Cold Case Colorado

by Cassie Miles

  She noted the meeting at one o’clock, then she added groceries with a few basics, like bread and eggs. “What else?”

  “Lumberyard,” he said. “I want to pick up a couple of shelving units.”

  Her pen paused above the notebook. The lumberyard was the natural habitat of nesting creatures. And the shelving units were destined to end up in this room. He was building a nest for her inside the home he’d built for himself. She liked Ty, liked him a lot. But this plan was unacceptable.

  She pushed back her chair and stood. “I should get ready.”

  “Stay. We have other items for the list. You said that you wanted to pick up some of your clothes from the Castle.”

  She had mentioned that. Also, she wanted the recording equipment for Simon’s memoir. But she couldn’t let herself be seduced into complacency by her need for organization. “You have to stop this, Ty.”

  “Stop what?”

  He looked so innocent, but she had him figured out. “You’re building me a nest.”

  “I want to keep you protected.”

  “Of course, I want that. I’m not a risk-taker. As much as I want to be like Dad, I’m not him, not spontaneous.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “You think you’re building a nest, but it feels like a birdcage to me.”

  The expression on his face told her that she’d hurt him, which was the opposite of what she wanted. “Believe me,” he said. “I’m not trying to force you into a situation you don’t want. And I’m sure as hell not locking you up in a cage.”

  She stalked out the door and dashed upstairs. This morning, she’d realized that they had a relationship. Already, it had blown up in her face. Was it her responsibility to apologize? That didn’t seem fair.

  She got dressed and practiced deep breathing until she was nearly calm. When she returned to the kitchen, she had every intention of making things right. Stay cool. Stay steady. She confronted him directly, determined not to be distracted by his firm jaw, handsome eyes and dimples. “Here’s the thing, Ty. I’m not going to tell you that I’m sorry.”

  “Neither am I.”

  This wasn’t turning out the way she wanted. They needed to have a rational conversation, maybe make a list of pros and cons. How could she be angry about his effort to help her out with a new office? And how could he assume he knew what was best for her?

  She took her coffee mug to the sink and rinsed it out. Then she gathered up her backpack. “I don’t think we should ride to the Castle together.”

  “Fine with me. I’ll call a deputy to give you a ride.”

  Shoving open the front door, she went onto the porch and sat in a rocking chair. She called over her shoulder to him. “I’ll wait out here.”

  No doubt, she made a pathetic picture in her wilted blouse from yesterday and her backpack holding the last third of Dad’s ashes. But she wasn’t going to give in. No apologies.

  * * *

  AT THE CASTLE, Vanessa went to her room and changed into a denim shirt. Not wanting to waste time avoiding Ty, she fixed her hair, put on makeup and called Dr. Waters, who still didn’t have any news. Keeping herself busy, she stayed out of sight until right before one o’clock.

  In the Grand Hall, she gathered with the others, including Ty, who was dressed in his uniform shirt and utility belt. He wasn’t wearing his cowboy hat. Morris told them that they had five minutes to get to their initial starting place. “I can’t expect you to follow the same precise timing but try to make it close. Any questions?”

  “What’s the point?” Macy demanded.

  “You’re all witnesses,” he said. “At the time the murder occurred, you didn’t know what might be significant. Reenacting the event might jog your memory.”

  “Sounds lame to me. We’ve been cooperative so far, but I think it might be time to call our attorneys and put a stop to this nonsense.”

  Her husband, Yuri, chided her. “A lovely young woman is dead. We will assist the police in any way we can.”

  Not speaking to each other, she and Ty went to the staircase and ascended to the balcony outside the crime scene on the second floor. Agent Hurtado had been chosen to play the role of Bethany. She charged past them, entered Simon’s bedroom and locked the door.

  Instead of following the same path they’d walked before, Vanessa looked to see whom “Bethany” had been arguing with before she locked herself in. Lowell Burke, her husband, stood in the hallway.

  “That’s how it started,” she said to Ty. “They argued about money. She said something about millions of dollars.”

  “We don’t know the details, but Burke was investigating property rights and entanglements on Simplicity and with the Simple Simon’s franchises.”

  She remembered the timing. Six months ago, Burke’s investigation started and that was about the time she was aware of being stalked in Denver. “Do we think Burke is the stalker?”

  “Could be. He’s got a sneaky side.”

  She looked down from the balcony. It felt good to be talking to Ty again. She leaned against the second floor railing, trying to remember whom she’d seen in the Grand Hall. Chloe Markham? Mona? Keith must have been down there because she saw him heading toward the bakery kitchen on the first floor.

  “Keith Gable,” Ty said. “He’s also involved in the sale of the property. He’s a partner with Simon.”

  “Sounds like everybody has their fingers in that pie.”

  Together, she and Ty crossed the Grand Hall to the other side. They went past the office with the French doors. At the staircase, she’d mentioned the movie room on the lower level but they never went there. On the second floor, they ran into Martha Ingram who was trying to act like she was upset.

  “If you don’t mind having me ask,” Ty said, “what was bothering you the first time we saw you?”

  “It’s George. He’s drinking too much. Hasn’t been feeling well.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” Ty said.

  “He’s been having nightmares. He wakes up in a cold sweat and mumbles about being sorry, so very sorry.” Her gaze darted nervously toward him. “Once, I heard him apologize to you in his sleep.”

  After she left them, Ty and Vanessa meandered up and down the staircase. “I’m glad we’re friends again,” she said.

  “More than friends.” He caught hold of her hand and squeezed gently. “So what do you think about all these suspects.”

  “Don’t you mean witnesses? Someone in the Castle killed Bethany.”

  And they weren’t picking up any new clues. They didn’t see anyone else until they crossed the Grand Hall again and entered the second floor game room with the secret passage.

  Burke was waiting for them. “Macy is right. This is a waste of time.”

  “Maybe not,” Ty said. “Did you discover anything unusual when you were looking into property issues from twelve years ago?”

  “When Aunt Dorothy disappeared?” He scoffed. “I can’t betray my client’s confidential information, but I didn’t uncover any deep dark secrets. Nothing but innuendo. For some reason, Bethany was convinced that Dorothy wanted to give her a fortune. I think she might have met the woman once or twice but that was all.”

  Vanessa’s phone rang. When she saw the call was coming from Dr. Waters, she answered. The pathologist gave a short, sweet and horrifying explanation of what she’d discovered in the tiny coffin box: Aunt Dorothy was murdered.

  Forensics showed that she was shot in the back of the head at an angle that would have been impossible for her to pull the trigger. Vanessa rushed to rejoin Ty and Burke.

  “Excuse us,” she said to Bethany’s husband. “We need to confer.”

  “Not a problem,” he said. “I’m supposed to find Keith, anyway.”

  As soon as he was out of earshot, she told Ty about the report. “It was murder, and
that explains the motivation. Why fake a suicide? To cover up a murder.”

  “But Doc Ingram said suicide was the cause of death. Why did he lie?”

  The door to the game room slammed shut. They were trapped.

  Keith Gable stalked into the center of the room, shoving Doc in front of him. “Poor old Doc Ingram,” he said with a sneer. “He’s been falling apart for years.”

  When Ty reached for his gun, Keith raised his weapon. “Drop it, Sheriff. Do it. Or I’ll shoot Vanessa first. Then the Doc.”

  When Ty was disarmed, Keith pushed the old man to the floor. Vanessa went to help him. “You won’t get away with this, Keith.”

  “The hell I won’t. Here’s a neat little story for Morris. Doc killed Dorothy and filled in the phony cause of death. Maybe I can weave in a side issue about Doc’s grandson and the drugs he’s been taking. There’s plenty of crimes floating around to keep any jury amused. Doc will be blamed for the whole thing.”

  “I would never hurt Dorothy,” Doc said. “When Dorothy disappeared, I was confused and scared and I couldn’t see worth a damn. Finally, when her body showed up and I examined her, all I saw was the gunshot to the head. Keith convinced me that it was suicide.”

  Vanessa glared at Keith. “You’re good at playing tricks on people. You’re the one who stalked me, aren’t you?”

  “I thought I could scare you off.”

  “But I don’t scare so easily. Tell me, Keith, when did you figure out that you’d made a mistake by killing Dorothy?”

  “Not for years,” he said. “You didn’t seem to know anything about the insurance. Then Lowell Burke started poking around. That was when I struck up an affair with Bethany. She handed me all the information.”

  Keith’s smarmy grin disgusted Ty. “Proud of yourself?”

  “A little bit.” He shrugged. “Dorothy had to die. She was standing in the way of progress. Simon and I needed free rein in leveraging the properties and starting our franchise stores. We were brilliant. The only person who didn’t applaud was Dorothy. She didn’t believe in me...or her husband.”

  “When Bethany figured out your plot,” Ty said, “you couldn’t have her running around with that much leverage in her back pocket.”

  “I seduced her, tried to show her she was wrong, but she loved money more. Now, all that’s left for me to do is clean up you three witnesses. As soon as Morris figures out that Dorothy’s death was murder and Doc lied on the death certificate, he’ll jump to the obvious conclusion.”

  “One more question,” Vanessa asked, “How did you get into and out of Simon’s bedroom?”

  “Simple Simon.” He chuckled at his own cleverness. “I went to the library and climbed down the wall. And I disposed of my bloodstained chef jacket in the laundry.”

  “Killing us won’t be easy,” Vanessa warned. “There are cops and agents swarming all over the place. They’ll hear a gunshot.”

  “Give me some credit. I’m smarter than that.” He gestured toward the pinball machines in the corner. “I want all three of you in the secret passage.”

  As soon as she ducked inside, Vanessa smelled gasoline. Keith intended to light the passage on fire and let it spread to the wine cellar.

  Ty followed behind her. “Run. Get out of here as fast as you can.”

  “What about you? And Doc?”

  “I’ll take care of this,” Doc said. “Tell Simon I’m sorry.”

  The old man lunged at Keith. Doc wasn’t strong and wasn’t in good health but he always carried a lucky scalpel in his pocket. He unsheathed the surgical blade and stabbed Keith’s leg.

  Vanessa hit the cement floor of the wine cellar in seconds. Ty followed. When he burst out the door behind her, Keith fired his weapon. The spark from his gun ignited the gas.

  There wasn’t time to rescue Doc from the explosion.

  His nightmares were over.

  Epilogue

  Three weeks later, Vanessa stood on Crescent City Beach in California and watched as the tide ebbed. A rocky path emerged from the waters and provided a way to walk from the sandy beach to the small lighthouse island, about fifty feet offshore.

  Every day for the past week, she’d come here at low tide to wait for Ty. They hadn’t resolved their issues about nesting and living a more exotic life. There would always be conflicts, but she truly enjoyed the makeup sex. She was willing to try a relationship. If he wanted to try, he’d come here by the end of the day.

  Her life had changed drastically since the day of the fire at the Castle. For one thing, Nussbaum had secured her insurance payout with interest, making her a wealthy woman. She’d decided to continue on the project with Simon if he promised to give a full chapter to Aunt Dorothy. And she’d bought a cat and named it Fluff the Second.

  Simon was coping pretty well with the news that his friend and partner, Keith, had murdered his beloved Dorothy. This would have been a good time to retire from the restaurant business. Instead, he doubled down, bringing in his current wife, Chloe, to run the Simple Simon franchise.

  Vanessa reached up and touched the necklace that Bethany held when she was murdered. The design had turned out to be a useful clue. Even in death, Bethany had aimed focus at Aunt Dorothy. Ty never should have hidden that piece of evidence from Morris, but she was glad he did. The CBI agent might have dismissed the necklace. Bethany’s dream of a huge inheritance wasn’t exactly true. She’d get something. Her husband—Lowell the lawyer—would make sure of that. But Bethany hadn’t been first generation, and her claim was further down the list.

  From the top of the lighthouse, Vanessa stared toward the south. In the distance, she saw him approaching. A man on horseback, riding at the edge of the sparkling surf.

  She climbed down the stairs from the lighthouse and dashed across the sand. When he was close enough for her to see the shimmer in his eyes, he leaned down and scooped her off her feet. She sat on his lap in the saddle. They kissed for a very long time.

  “Marry me, Vanessa.”

  “I can’t say yes to that. Not yet.” She kissed him again. “But I can say I love you.”

  “That’ll do.”

  * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Hunting a Killer by Nicole Helm.

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  Hunting a Killer

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  Prologue

  The tears leaked out of Kay Duvall’s eyes, even as she tried to focus on what she had to do. Had to do to bring Ben home safe.

  She fumbled with her ID and punched in the code that would open the side door, usually only used by a guard taking a smoke break. It would be easy for the men behind her to escape from this side of the prison.

  It went against everything she was supposed to do. Everything she considered right and good.

  A quiet sob escaped her lips. They had her son. How could she not help them escape? Nothing mattered beyond her son’s life.

  “Would you stop already?” one of the prisoners muttered. He’d made her give him her gun, which he now jabbed into her back. “Crying isn’t going to change anything. So just shut up.”

  She didn’t care so much about her own life, or if she’d be fired. She didn’t care what happened to her as long as they let her son go. So she swallowed down the sobs and blinked out as many tears as she could, hoping to stem the tide of them.

  She got the door open and slid out first—because the man holding the gun pushed it into her back until she moved forward.

  They moved out the door behind her, dressed in the clothes she’d stolen from the locker room and Lost and Found. Anything wa
rm she could get her hands on to help them escape into the frigid February night.

  Help them escape. Help three dangerous men escape prison. When she was supposed to keep them inside.

  It didn’t matter anymore. She just wanted them gone. If they were gone, they’d let her baby go. They had to let her baby go.

  Kay forced her legs to move, one foot in front of the other, toward the gate she could unlock without setting off any alarms. She unlocked it, steadier this time if only because she kept thinking once they were gone she could get in contact with Ben.

  She flung open the gate and gestured them out into the parking lot. “Stay out of the safety lights and no one should bug you.”

  “You better hope not,” one of the men growled.

  “The minute you sound that alarm, your kid is dead. You got it?” This one was the ringleader. The one who’d been in for murder. Who else would he kill out there in the world?

  Guilt pooled in Kay’s belly, but she had to ignore it. She had to live with it. Whatever guilt she’d felt would be survivable. Living without her son wouldn’t be. Besides, she had to believe they’d be caught. They’d do something else terrible and be caught.

  As long as her son was alive, she didn’t care.

  The three men disappeared into the night, wearing the clothes she’d stolen for them. She hoped they froze to death. She hoped every bad thing befell them. As soon as her baby was safe, she’d help the authorities in whatever way she could.

  She slammed the gate closed and locked it. She was sick with anger and terror, and her hands shook as she fumbled for her phone. She dialed her mother. Just because she couldn’t sound the alarm didn’t mean she couldn’t make sure Mom was all right. Had they hurt her when they’d kidnapped Ben? Was she terrified too?

  Or worse, dead? Mom definitely would have fought off anyone trying to take Ben, even if it ended her life.