Paloma took a sip of her tea. “Nice flavor. The new project is easy. You get the Wolf Creek Bridge widened to two lanes, and people all over town will sing your praises. They might even give you a raise.”
“Why didn’t Fleet ever do that?”
“My guess is Fleet knew some part about his father’s role in the heist all along, or he had some doubt about where his father came by that much wealth. He obviously didn’t want to involve the federal government on any level. There’s no excuse for not applying for Federal funds. He had years to do it and never did.”
“But Fleet claimed he knew nothing about his father’s crimes.”
“Not a bad way to sneak out of town, masking your culpability in all of it. Deny. Deny. Deny. If Fleet had applied for a Federal grant, requesting funds for the bridge would’ve meant scrutiny from Washington. I don’t think he wanted to take the chance.”
“If that’s true, then he lied straight to our faces. Do you think the justice department will look into what Fleet knew?”
“They probably already have. If not, the man’s definitely on their radar, along with his offshore accounts that he might’ve thought were safe.”
“Wow. It blows me away how deep corruption ran and how Fleet denied any involvement, how Sam Wells almost brought down the bank. I feel very naïve about it all.”
“The takeaway is don’t get caught up in that kind of corruption in the first place.”
“Got it. Any other advice for me? Anything you could pass on to your granddaughter, so she doesn’t make a fool out of herself or embarrass you or the Coyote lineage?”
Paloma leaned back and sipped her tea. “Watch your back. Politics anywhere these days is pretty much a blood sport. Now let’s open that tin of lavender cookies and forget about the undesirable side effects of politics.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gemma said as her phone dinged with a text. She picked it up, read the message, and grinned. “But before we leave it behind entirely, I hope you’re free this evening. I want you at my swearing-in ceremony. Tonight. City Hall. Annette Ferris presiding.”
Paloma’s lips curved in a toothy smile. “My dear, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Another Coyote at the helm. You make me proud.”
“That’s my motivation right there to do a good job. I don’t want to let you down.”
“Just remember, you’ll never be able to make everyone happy. That’s a given. But remember to do the right thing for the town, stay true to yourself, and you’ll be fine.”
After finally leaving the crash site, Lando swung into the parking lot at the restaurant his mother owned. The lunch crowd had Captain Jack’s swarming with a packed house. His mother, Lydia Bonner, stood behind the cash register swiping a credit card for Natalie Henwick. As soon as Lydia spotted him, she stopped what she was doing and held out her arms in greeting. “Welcome home! How was Maui?”
“A tropical paradise.”
“And the honeymoon?”
“The best two weeks of my life. How about you and Paul?”
“Paul and I are doing just fine,” Lydia said. Patting her son’s chest, she whispered in his ear, “Glad you’re back. Your sister is driving everyone nuts.”
Lando kissed his mother’s cheek and murmured back, “Tell me something I don’t already know.”
“She’s not her usual temperamental self. This is different. Wedding jitters plus doubts about the sanctity of marriage. Sorry. I’ll save it for later, fewer busybodies to overhear our personal business. What can I get you to eat?”
“Burger with everything on it and fries. I’m starving. Pop-Tarts only go so far.”
Lydia sent him a disapproving look. “You stay away from those sugary breakfasts. I’ll give this to Leia and be right back.”
Standing in the confined restaurant lobby, Lando checked his phone and found a message from Gemma.
Swearing-in ceremony tonight at seven. Invite everyone you know. ~smiley face~ I’ve already sent out a blast text message to all our friends. But in case I missed anyone, back me up and send out another one. Love you. See you at home.
Lando grinned, which brought a comment from Denise Coolidge, Dale’s girlfriend, who’d been standing by the cash register waiting for Lydia to get back. “Dale just told me about the big event. I’m so excited for Gemma. I voted for her, you know.”
“I didn’t know that, but thanks for the vote of confidence. Will you be there?”
“Female mayor from my generation? Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it. I’m bringing my daughter, too.”
“Great. We’ll probably end up back here for a big celebration. You’re welcome to join us.”
“The more, the merrier,” Lydia interjected as she rang up Denise’s bill. “We’ll serve sandwiches with potato salad and throw us a party. Beer on the house from the tap.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Denise stated as she handed Lydia a twenty to pay for lunch. “I’m hoping Gemma can be a role model for my little girl. My Shiloh plans to write a report about it at school.” She glanced at her watch. “I gotta get back to the Food Mart or my mom will have a fit. Working for family isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. I’ll see you tonight.”
Lando cut his eyes over to his mother. “You’re really doing all that for Gemma?”
“You bet. I wish I could make it to City Hall for the ceremony, but with the dinner rush, no way. Monday is one of our busiest nights of the week for takeout. No one wants to cook. That’s why I’m hoping everyone will come back here.”
He leaned in to give his mother a peck on the cheek again. “You’re the best.”
“Tell that to Leia. She’s in a mood. She wants me to ask if you’ve made any headway on the Talia Lewis thing. Zeb told her you were up to speed on what had happened.”
Lando blew out a breath. “Not in the last fifteen minutes, but I have my crew making the necessary follow up calls and inquiries. We’re checking her credit card usage and tracking her cell. If that leads to nothing, then we’ll change tactics.”
Leia had overheard the exchange. She handed her brother the bag with his burger order. “A little late for all that, isn’t it?”
“It’s never too late to check her digital footprint. And you should really ease up on Zeb. He was right. This isn’t his case. If you want to crawl up someone’s ass, you should direct your anger in the right jurisdiction. If you don’t feel you’re being served, you can file a complaint with the Coyote Wells PD. Make it official.”
“You’re such a hardass, aren’t you?” Leia snapped.
“Right back atcha, sister.”
“Just tell me what you’re doing to find Talia,” Leia demanded.
“I just did. When I know more, you’ll know more.” He turned back to his mom and planted a kiss on her forehead. “As you can tell, things are really hopping my first day back from vacation. I gotta get to the station. See ya tonight.”
Jimmy had stored all the evidence they’d found at the crash site in the conference room. Woodson’s charred belongings were now laid out neatly from end to end on the long table. What there was left.
Lando sorted through the mess. Some of the man’s possessions were tattered and in pieces. Some had been torched and melded together, stuck onto each other from the blast. But everything had been tagged and bagged, cataloged as to where it had been found and labeled. That included a set of keys attached to a round locket with a map of Colorado Springs under an acrylic overlay. A small silver charm in the shape of a jet plane dangled from the key ring.
He picked up the keys and studied each one—house key, truck key, and what looked like a storage locker key.
Lando had already done a background check on Peter Woodson. He ran the guy’s address and knew he wasn’t married. But he needed to know if Woodson lived alone.
When Jimmy appeared in the doorway, Lando shifted around the table, picking up several other items, including the ATF badge. “Do me a favor. Take Payce over to Oyster Landing. See if anyone answers Woodson�
��s door. If not, use the key to get in and go through everything.”
“What are we looking for exactly?”
“See if there’s anything there that belongs to a Robert Sykes. Things aren’t adding up. I want pictures of what’s in his house. Woodson had packed several suitcases. Most of them burned. One didn’t. Unfortunately for us, the one intact was the one with all his clothes. Not much help there. The personal items did tell us he’s carrying around another man’s ID.”
“Could Woodson have been undercover, using the name Sykes?”
“If he used the name Sykes and walked around as Woodson, I don’t see it. Although anything is possible. But did you ever see Woodson acting like a cop? I never did.”
“No. He seemed like a typical fifty-year-old guy who’s flush in retirement.”
“Which makes me curious. If he wasn’t asking questions, then he might not have been here in an official capacity. Could be he was hiding out from something or someone. I want to know if Mr. Woodson was leaving us for good or just going on a long vacation.”
“I’ll get on it. By the way, Dale is still working the phone on the Talia Lewis case. But so far, he’s found no credit card activity or ATM withdrawals anywhere. No women brought into the ER, no hospital admissions, no registering at any hotel or motel within a three-hundred-mile radius. No trace of her, Chief. None.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. You and Payce handle the search of Woodson’s house. I’ll go talk to Brandt Lewis.”
“He’s lawyered up.”
“So I hear. But I want to see this guy’s face for myself. Won’t hurt to go knock on his door and see who we’re dealing with before we accuse him of doing away with his wife. Have you seen Suzanne? She wasn’t at the front desk when I came in earlier.”
“Sorry. No. We’ve had our heads buried since getting back from Fire Mountain. Maybe she was in the restroom. She’s usually good about letting one of us know. She might’ve said something to the other guys.”
“That’s okay. I’ll find her. You go start on Woodson’s place. If you find anything that verifies he ever worked at ATF or anything else with the name Sykes on it, let me know.”
Lando went over the cataloged items, making sure his guys had accounted for location and detailed descriptions until he heard Suzanne answering calls out front again. He went out to stand at the reception area until she got off the phone.
But as soon as Suzanne ended the call, she went into what Gemma had found in her office. “Who would do something like that? She took photos of the mess and then tried to get the smell out of there. I’m not sure that’ll work. I still can see it and smell it. I’ve gotten sick to my stomach a couple of times since it happened, unable to eat lunch. That’s why I was in the bathroom while Dale covered for me.”
Without saying a word, Lando took off down the hallway to check it out for himself. The door had been left open; the windows raised so the breeze might provide a waft of fresh air. But the stench lingered even under the layer of green apple air freshener.
Gemma had left the closet door open. He could still see the ring on the floor where the trash can had oozed out whatever liquid had formed over two weeks. With the wastebasket gone, it looked as though Gemma had tried to mop up the retched discharge. But it had left its stain on the hardwood.
Lando wanted it out of there for good. He took out his cell phone to notify maintenance. “Hey, Henry, this is Chief Bonner. I need a floor replaced. I know it’s short notice, but it’s gotta be done this afternoon if possible. Overtime pay’s involved.”
4
Jimmy pulled his patrol cruiser into a small tract of homes lining Oyster Landing, a development overlooking Moonlight Ridge that never quite got off the ground. Many empty lots had been left unsold and recently repossessed by a bank in San Francisco, which meant no one planned to build on the land anytime soon.
A smattering of cabins dotted the subdivision in a random, irregular pattern. Like a patchwork quilt, each homeowner had contributed a different architectural design to the landscape. Some had chosen a one-story ranch, while others had gone for more square footage and a fancier concept. Woodson’s two-story A-frame sat on the corner lot away from the others. Built out of rustic pine, the house looked more like a ski lodge.
“My dad wanted to buy some land out here,” Payce began as he stood looking over the terrain. “That’s when Montalvo owned the company before he went to prison.”
Jimmy went to try the lock on the front door and asked, “Why didn’t he buy it?”
“Because when it first opened Montalvo jacked up the price. As you can see, only a few people were able to buy the land and build on it.”
“Maybe your dad could still pick out a spot. It looks like there’s plenty of lots to choose from these days,” Jimmy pointed out as he stepped onto a rough planked floor and got his first look at Woodson’s taste in furniture—lots of brown leather, wood, and built-ins. “Guy looks like a neat freak. There isn’t a thing out of place in here.”
“Either that or he was in the process of cleaning it out,” Payce said, admiring the Native American-patterned rugs on the floor and the mason-cut stone fireplace. “My dad would love a set up like this.”
“Hey, like I said before, the guy’s dead. Maybe your dad could pick it up from Woodson’s estate, probably get the furniture and everything left in here. Let’s start going through everything down here. You take the study, and I’ll start upstairs in the loft bedrooms.”
The two men worked separately in different parts of the house, Payce pawing through drawers and behind bookshelves while Jimmy scoured the upper bedrooms, turning over mattresses and checking for hidden nooks and crannies.
After an hour, Payce announced he’d finished up with the lower level. “I’ll take a look outside. There’s a carport on the side of the house. And a shed in the back. I’ll check those out.”
“I’m done, too. The only interesting thing I found up here is a lot of porn magazines under the bed, a few videos in the nightstand, and a computer. I bagged the laptop.”
Payce went out through the slider and circled the house to the paved driveway. The carport seemed a waste of time since there was really no room for anything other than Woodson’s vehicle. A tiny storage closet at the front held a push lawnmower, a brand-new snowblower, a toolbox, and various rakes and shovels.
He moved on to the shed, a ten by ten building located almost thirty yards from the house. It looked like something Woodson had thrown together himself using odd pieces of left-over timber he’d found elsewhere. Part pallet and roughhewn wood, this little add-on didn’t go with the ski lodge décor or the carport addition but fell somewhere in between chicken coop and a boy’s handmade fort.
When he spotted the padlock on the door Payce’s cop radar went off. The closet hadn’t been locked, but it contained items of value. Wouldn’t thieves be interested in stealing a lawnmower or snowblower? To him, that meant something important and valuable must be inside this rundown man-cave.
Payce went back to the carport to retrieve one of the shovels and used it to bash the lock. He swung the door open, but caution had him pulling out his revolver and flashlight. Before setting foot inside, he shined the beam against the walls trying to locate the light switch. But there was no electricity. He noticed a thick, musty smell hung in the air.
Around the room, moving boxes had been stacked three feet high, like a wall around the perimeter. Payce took out his pocketknife and sliced through the tape. “Just a bunch of old newspapers,” he muttered to himself. “Fire hazard if you ask me.”
Dragging a stack of the yellowed paper out of the way, he proceeded toward the back. An antique steamer trunk caught his eye. It had been placed in the center of the wall with several bunches of dried daisies left on top.
Swiping the flowers out of the way, he flipped the latches up to raise the lid. In all his forty years on earth, Payce had never seen such a sight. He sucked in a breath as he stared at the mummified co
rpse folded into a fetal position to make it fit inside the trunk.
On his way back out of the shed, he tripped over one of the boxes and yelled for Jimmy. “Get out here, now! Better call the boss. There’s a body in the shed.”
Four blocks from Water Street, Baffin Bay, was a quiet area of town where Talia had lived comfortably for the past three years. She’d inherited the house from an aunt who’d also left her a sizeable chunk of money in the bank.
The shy introvert with the ginger hair had been overweight for most of her life. But that changed when Talia lost fifty pounds and decided to enter the online world to find a soulmate.
What she found was a software tech who had started his own company, who had ambition and money of his own to burn. Talia thought she’d found her Prince Charming in Brandt Lewis. Two months after their first date, they decided to marry. Brandt, it seemed, couldn’t wait to spend eternity with the woman of his dreams. Six weeks later, they wed in a candlelight ceremony and headed for a honeymoon at a five-star resort in Bora Bora. They’d known each other exactly one-hundred-and five days.
Through a string of texts, Gemma had quizzed Leia about all of this before deciding to see Talia’s house for herself.
She drove up Baffin Bay at a slow pace, reading addresses. At one house, she spotted Lando’s cruiser pulled up in the driveway and knew this was it. She stared at him standing on the porch of a Craftsman, talking to Brandt through the screen door.
Even parked across the street, she could tell that while Lando asked the guy questions, Talia’s husband got red in the face. To Gemma, his body language seemed more defensive than necessary.
She opened the driver’s side door and stepped outside into the street. But as she zeroed in on Mr. Lewis, standing behind his screen door, Gemma was hit by a wave of confusion. She saw black dots and stars, gray smoke and mist. An ashen face with dead eyes. The images twined together like vines growing around a tree, then smothering that growth before snuffing out the life forever.
Fire Mountain Page 5
