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Fire Mountain

Page 8

by Vickie McKeehan


  On the other side of the room, Luke had cornered Lando near the soda machine. “I wanted to tell you myself. Lianne and I are getting married next May. I want you to be best man.”

  “When did this happen? Never mind. Obviously, while we were gone. What prompted you to propose?”

  “That’s a weird reaction. Aren’t you happy for me?”

  “Course I am. If Lianne’s the one, then getting married is the next step. But I know you. A long engagement will drive you crazy.”

  “Eight months isn’t that long,” Luke said, angling so he might try and locate Lianne at the bar. When he spotted her, a smile broke out across his face. “She’s the one, Lando. I’ve met no one else like her anywhere. She’s kind and empathetic to others. She never complains when I’m called away to treat a patient in the middle of the night. Lianne Whitaker gets me like no one else ever has.”

  Lando recognized that besotted demeanor. He’d had it himself a time or two with Gemma. “Then it’s a match made in…wherever matches go to hook up and plan their futures. Anyway, I wish you all the best, brother. You deserve it.” Slapping his brother on the back, he guided him out into the crowded restaurant. “But be honest. I bet you asked Lianne thinking she’d say yes to a quick December wedding. Am I right?”

  “Oh, stuff it. You think you know everything about me.”

  “I sorta do. I remember you have a fondness for December weddings. I also remember the redhead who taught yoga down in LA during your residency?”

  Luke frowned at the memory. “Why on earth would you bring up Kristin when I’ve just told you I’m engaged?”

  “No reason. Just yanking your chain. It’s my favorite pastime. Besides, did Kristin ever give you back the ring?”

  “Yeah, but not for several months after we broke up. Lianne is nothing like Kristin.”

  “I didn’t say she was.”

  “Then why bring up…?” He started to argue the point and decided against causing a scene. “Why can’t you ever just be supportive? Is that so hard for you to do?”

  “Whoa. I am supportive. Very. Of all the women you’ve ever dated, I like Lianne the best. Like you said she’s perfect for you. And you’re perfect for her.”

  “Then why…?”

  Lando scrubbed a hand down his face. “I’m just being an ass. I have a case I’m working on that makes no sense and…obviously, I’m just an ass,” he repeated. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to needle you. Well, maybe a little, like always. But I didn’t think about how it sounded.”

  “What case? The plane crash this morning? Isn’t that pretty straightforward?”

  “You’d think, but no. You’re right, we should change the subject to something else.”

  “Well, with Leia getting married, imagine the three of us, the Bonner kids, finally finding a bit of happiness.”

  “Don’t leave out Mom. I’ve heard she’s over the moon about Paul Eddington,” Lando said before glancing across the room where he pointed to his mother and Paul whispering to each other. “I’m fine with the relationship as long as he doesn’t want me to call him ‘daddy.’”

  “That’s a deal-breaker and not happening,” Luke added quickly.

  “See how much we have in common? Come on, little brother. I’ll buy you a beer and promise I won’t embarrass you with the best man speech. How’s that sound?”

  “You really are an ass. You’re six minutes older than I am and keep bringing it up like we’re years apart. And the beer’s on Mom.”

  “I’m aware of both those things. But it always ticks you off that I came out first. Do I know all your buttons to push or what?”

  Luke found an open table and plopped down. “Just bring me a beer, then we’ll talk about what’s off limits in that speech you plan to make.”

  After Van had taken Paloma home, Gemma found herself sitting scrunched between the grumbling Ellen and her upbeat brother. Listening to them squabble about different methods of growing cauliflower made Gemma excuse herself to go find Leia, who’d been notably absent from the party.

  Gemma spotted the chef standing at the counter chopping more celery for the veggie tray. “How long have you been on your feet today? It’s time to take a break. Come over here and sit down. I brought you something.”

  “You aren’t supposed to be back here in the kitchen,” Leia snapped.

  “You’ll make allowances for the mayor. Now get over here and take a break. The mayor commands it.”

  For the first time in hours, Leia broke out in laughter. “That’s just like you, let the power go to your head already.”

  Gemma shoved the gift bag into Leia’s hands. “Open it. Souvenirs from Maui.”

  Remembering she had a gift to open, Leia’s face softened as she sat down across from Gemma to dig into the sack. Pulling out the hand-carved koa wood bowl on top, her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

  “There’s also a cutting board in there made from the same kind of wood. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m tired. Any word on Talia?”

  Gemma caught her up to date but added the caveat she knew Leia might not like. “I don’t think Brandt did anything to her.”

  “What? Of course, he did. Who else would have? Those two were all wrong for each.”

  “That’s why I think Talia was seeing someone else. Any idea who it might’ve been?”

  Leia’s eyes glazed over with anger. “If anyone was cheating it was that no-good Brandt.”

  “Maybe he was but…”

  “Why are you defending that fake, making himself out to be something he wasn’t? If your psychic ability is that weak that it doesn’t show you what a rat-bastard he is, then you need to stop touting it as fact. You’re wrong about this, Gemma, just plain wrong.”

  “I can see you believe that. That’s okay. I’ll leave you to your work and go mingle with the other guests.”

  Gemma left her best friend like that, stewing and mad. If she couldn’t make Leia understand the situation, then she was wasting her time. Disappointed, she lingered at the bar making small talk with anyone who wanted to chat until Lando put his arms around her waist. “What are you up to? It doesn’t look as though you’re enjoying the limelight very much.”

  “I just saw Leia. I’ve never seen anyone so entrenched in believing Talia would never do anything wrong like cheat on her husband. Your sister is absolutely certain Brandt Lewis is guilty of something.”

  “And you’re just as convinced he’s not, right?”

  “Lewis isn’t a good guy, but he didn’t kill Talia. I’m not sure how many ways I can explain that to her or you.”

  “Hey, I’m semi-convinced. Maybe I’d be full on except for the fact you seem so distracted, lot going on in your head. So, is it possible you’re thoughts are so scattered right now that you’re wrong about this?”

  “I am trying to juggle a lot—this mayor business is hard.”

  “The thing is…you’re willing to argue with my sister about it, which is a sure sign you believe what you saw…or see…concerning Lewis is accurate.”

  “I didn’t argue with her. We did that earlier. Leia’s acting very strange, Lando. I’m not so sure it’s all about wedding jitters, either.”

  They heard a loud commotion coming from the kitchen, pans rattling, dishes being thrown and breaking. Two people were shouting at each other. Zeb emerged from the fray and stood outside the door, a cut above his right eye, bleeding. He picked up a napkin from the stack and swiped at the blood. Embarrassed by the argument, Zeb simply held up his hand when Lando tried to speak. “Forget about it, I’m heading home.”

  Gemma shook her head. “See what I mean? She’s off the rails and heading over the cliff. Someone needs to find out what’s eating her.”

  “Don’t look at me. She hates my guts.”

  “Luke then. I’ll go ask him.”

  But behind Gemma, Lando spotted Luke heading into the kitchen. “There’s Leia’s sounding board, her knight in
shining armor. Let him deal with it.” Shifting gears, he took hold of Gemma’s hand, then nuzzled her cheek. Gazing into her tawny eyes, he tilted her chin up. “You might as well get used to the idea that you can’t fix everyone’s problems.”

  “I know that.”

  “Besides, I’ve only to look at you right now to know you’re the most beautiful woman in the room, probably the world. How’d I get so lucky?”

  The compliment did the trick. She chortled with laughter. “I remember a time you didn’t think so.”

  “Good thing I gave you a second chance then, isn’t it?”

  She sent a playful jab to his ribs. “You should be so lucky. So why were you cutting it close getting to the ceremony tonight? What did you find at Woodson’s that took so long?”

  “I’ll tell you later. I need to leave in a few minutes anyway. Is it too much to hope that I get to spend a few minutes with my lovely wife instead of answering to my superior?”

  “Very cagey. So why are you leaving?”

  “Gemma, I have to make a stop at the morgue.”

  “Okay. When you leave, I’m coming with you. It won’t be the first time I’ve seen Tuttle in his macabre surroundings. I can handle it. What’s got you going back there this time of night anyway? What can’t wait until the morning?”

  “Gold and lots of it.”

  Gemma stared at the gold coins Lando had spread out on the counter. She watched as he counted them out, stacking them into neat columns.

  “If they’re counterfeit, they’re certainly convincing,” Lando began as he inspected one of the coins. “And if these are real, they’re probably worth millions.”

  “Which means if Woodson left them behind, they’re probably fake,” Gemma pointed out.

  “Exactly. But we need an expert to tell us that for certain.”

  “Numismatists,” Tuttle murmured from across the room. “That’s what they call a coin expert. Tell me, what was in the rest of the cardboard boxes?”

  “Equipment used in counterfeiting—coin molds, grinders, copper for filler—along with various gold coins dating from 1836 to 1908. Not the huge amount like in the trunk, though. Just a few scattered around in tin containers. Still, if they were to check out as genuine, they’d be worth a small fortune. But I doubt they’re real.”

  Gemma rocked back on her heels. “What the heck was an ATF agent doing with that kind of collection?”

  Lando twisted his mouth. “My guess is he was into big-time counterfeiting. The forgery was lucrative. That’s why he decided to retire so early in his career. I don’t believe he could have done it alone, either.”

  “So the forger retires to Coyote Wells? Why here? Specifically? Think about it. The town hit the news a few months back when the heist was revealed. It sounds like Woodson started to panic that someone might find him here, so he got his affairs in order and prepared to leave. But why leave behind the trunk with the body in it? Maybe his trip wasn’t as permanent as we think. Maybe he planned on coming back.”

  “Yeah. But something or someone spooked him enough that he made plans to get out of town, at least for the time being.”

  “No one the wiser until his plane blew up. What does any of this have to do with Talia?”

  “No proof yet that it does.”

  “What does the ATF say about all this?”

  “Their West Coast office came out and took photos of the plane crash, bagged up the pieces of the plane, and then transported it all to their own forensic crime lab.”

  “Something bothers me about the rumor that Talia was leaving town with someone. In a town this small, how did she sneak around, and no one knows what she was up to? It isn’t like we have three thousand people living here. You can’t sneeze in this place without somebody knowing about it.”

  “Don’t kid yourself, if you want to have an affair, you can figure out a way to be damn sneaky about it,” Lando pointed out. “Plus, I’m not sure Talia cared if her husband found out. They didn’t seem to be that close. And he seems in no rush to find her.”

  “All the more reason to figure out why Leia didn’t know about her friend’s extracurricular activities. Leia doesn’t even want to consider the possibility.”

  Lando met her eyes. “I’m relying on that second sight you have, hoping you’re right about this because—”

  “I know what a risk it is,” Gemma added. “The husband didn’t care for his wife. The two weren’t getting along. But he didn’t get rid of her.”

  “It’d be so much easier if he had,” Lando stated, which got him a beady-eyed look from Tuttle. “You stay out of this.”

  The medical examiner held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m trying to figure out if you’ve already declared her dead without any help from me.”

  Gemma let out a throaty laugh. “No, of course not. Lando here hasn’t even found her car.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Tuttle added. “I’ll just stay over here on the other side of the room and practice science while you two discuss the more hackneyed theories that don’t include any facts.”

  Lando traded looks with Gemma. “Doesn’t that kind of talk get to you?”

  She tugged on his sleeve to get him moving. “Not really. Not anymore. I don’t blame people for making fun of something they don’t understand. Psychics are often misunderstood. They’ve faced ridicule the world over at one time or another. Coyote Wells isn’t that much different than anywhere else. So, grab your fake gold and let’s get out of here. It’s been a long day. And I’m ready to crawl into a hot bath and go to bed.”

  6

  What seemed like a short night turned into a rushed morning as Gemma and Lando downed cold cereal in a dash to get out the door.

  Gemma brought the dogs with her to work so she wouldn’t feel so out of place. But she still found it awkward to walk into City Hall and watch Lando turn left down the hallway to his office while she headed to the right and to hers.

  The maintenance workers had left the door open. She noticed right away the horrible smell had been eradicated. The new flooring made all the difference. While the dogs sprawled at her feet, she got comfortable at her desk and spent her first official hours on the job catching up on the town’s business.

  After returning a few calls and writing emails, she followed through on her promise and began to research the steps about how to apply for Federal funds. The grants existed, especially if the structures were deemed dangerous or in need of critical repairs.

  She thought of the old Wolf Creek Bridge, the rickety wooden structure barely functioning out on the coast road. In bad weather, a driver might risk his life just getting across from the southern end to the northern tip. With a length of almost a half a mile across it was a one-lane wonder built during the Great Depression. Construction began in 1934 and finished up in 1936 at a cost of two million dollars. Gemma realized it would likely take five times that to widen the bridge now.

  She also learned that she’d need to get a state engineer on board as soon as possible. The project couldn’t proceed without one. After emailing a dozen or so engineers from neighboring towns, she finally connected with one who could come out at the end of the week and assess what work needed to be done and how much it would cost.

  By midmorning, her calendar started to fill up.

  Lucien Thorne made good on his promise, coming in to get his license renewed. He stood just outside her door with his money in hand.

  “Come on in,” Gemma called out, measuring the man who made his living on the water. A scraggly stubble hid a pretty face. Pushing forty and wearing his bib overalls and rain gear, Lucien looked like any other fisherman getting ready to head out on the water for the day.

  “Did I keep you waiting?” she asked.

  “Late start,” Lucien grumbled, handing over his money. “I’m used to it. Don’t want to be out of compliance if I get pulled over by the Coast Guard.”

  Joe Don Bowden stood next to him, there for the same reason. The forty-
something hot dog vendor had been at his post for as long as Gemma could remember. He’d operated that hot dog stand since he was a teenager. And when his dad had died, the business had been passed down to him.

  With the two men there to pay their license fees, she quickly scanned the town’s collection processes and realized something was off. “Why are all these business licenses coming up for renewal at the same time?”

  “That’s the way Fleet wanted it,” Lucien explained. “Every September 30th is the deadline for paying our fees, doesn’t matter what kind of business it is. They’re all due at the same time like April 15 is Tax Day.”

  “That seems an odd practice. Shouldn’t the town’s revenue come in, not all at once, but stretched out over the fiscal year?”

  “You’d think,” Joe Don grumbled. “We suggested that to the town council about two years ago, but Fleet made sure it was voted down.”

  Another thing to fix, Gemma noted with a sigh. “Look, guys, this is my first day on the job. Going forward, I’m willing to hear your complaints and correct anything that seems fishy. If there are other issues, then send them to me in writing so I can do something about them at the council meetings.”

  “Sounds fair enough,” Joe Don stated after counting out the cash to pay his fee. “There is one more thing. The parking meters on Water Street should be free on the weekends.”

  “You mean they aren’t?”

  Joe Don sent her a sympathetic look. “You obviously don’t park there during the farmer’s market on Saturdays.”

  “No, I don’t. When I go, I usually walk the few blocks it takes to get downtown and to the pier. That’s where the vendors I like set up. Well, most of the time.”

  “See, you need to put in an appearance at the farmer’s market every single Saturday, stop by every vendor. Let people know you’re shopping local. It’s flat-out wrong to charge people to park during an event downtown, especially any event held on the weekend. Those meters limit the traffic to the beach. Limiting the traffic impacts my hot dog business.”

 

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