House at Road's End

by Peggy Staggs

  I knew the three things you need to solve any crime. Motive, means and opportunity. If you have a witness, so much the better.

  I figured I could combine the two vocations and make them work for me.

  The question was easy. I wrote down, who killed my dad?

  Background research was going to be a lot harder. I’d have to go back six months to when he closed the B&B. What had happened then to change everything?

  Then there was the problem, who do I trust?

  Dad had said to trust Jack. On the plus side, he was ex-Delta Force. Those guys were definitely trust-worthy. On the minus side, was his big house. You can’t afford that on a military salary or a Sheriff’s. Even a combination of both wouldn’t come close.

  Jane? He’d wouldn’t have her around, or living so close unless he felt he could trust her. And he sure wouldn’t have given her full run of the place if he thought she was anything less than honest. But, he hadn’t confided in her.

  Wait...he hadn’t confided in me either and I knew he trusted me.

  Construct a hypothesis. I figured this would be the motive. Again, I’d have to go back six months.

  Test my hypothesis by doing an experiment. I’d have to gather a list of suspects. Okay, that didn’t exactly fit, it was close though.

  Analyze the data. Compare all the stories. I hoped it would show who was telling the truth.

  Draw a conclusion. Zero in on the most likely person.

  Communicate my results.

  I still hadn’t accounted for means or opportunity. I’d sift them in before, “Analyze the data.”

  I had a lot to think about as I drove back to the B&B. Where had Dad been the past week? Why had he come back last night? And most important, who were those two guys?

  I wanted their heads.

  Chapter Six

  I parked beside the backdoor to the B&B. The enclosed back porch looked like an add-on. The white boarded section broke up the plain of red brick softening the look of the building. I wasn’t going around front. I gather my purse from the floor. I stretched over the console as my phone rang. I grabbed it from the chaos. “Hello.”

  “Leave if you don’t want to end up like Ralph.”

  “Who is this?” Like they were going to tell me after they threatened me. The line went dead. I don’t scare easily—the last twenty-four hours accepted. This frightened me. I’d never had anyone threaten to kill me before.

  I checked the recent call list. They’d blocked the number. I pressed Jack’s number. No, he was asleep. I dialed the police department instead.

  “Spirit Springs Police, this is Phyllis.”

  “This is Ensley Markus. I just got a threatening phone call.”

  “What did they say?”

  I told her. “The number was blocked.”

  “I’ll leave the Sheriff a message or do you want me to call him at home.”

  “No, don’t do that. Just leave him a note.” After all, with no number I wasn’t sure there was anything he could do.

  The cats watched me enter. Cats are great watchers.

  The smell of fresh bread filled the room. “Good morning, Jane.” I put all the cheer I could in my voice. It wasn’t much.

  “There’s nothing good about this morning.” Her eyes were as puffy as mine felt. “I don’t like any of this. Those men made a mess of everything. It’s going to take all day to clean it up. And then Ral...” Her voice cracked. “They left yellow tape all over the front porch and out into the yard. Just like we needed to be reminded of what happened last night. And we’ve got arrangements to make. Nope.” She snapped the counter with her towel. “Not a good day.”

  In the background, the professional dishwasher hummed. The pans inside clanked softly as the water jetted around them. I had no idea what to say. So I did the only thing my numb brain would allow. I stood there.

  She’d gone on without me. “Got to call Doc Grant. See when he’s going to send Ralph over to the funeral parlor. We only have one, no choice there. We’ve got to call his friends.” She stopped. “Do you know them from before?”

  I’d left Uncle Bill a message to call me. Either he hadn’t gotten it or he was busy. “I should call Uncle Bill.” Of course, he might know what Dad was up to. I hit Uncle Bill’s number in my phone.

  “I talked to him. He’s doing what he can.”

  Of course she’d know him. He was Dad’s best friend and had probably been here a lot. “Still, I should call him.”

  If I lost my phone, my whole world would fold in on itself. I don’t keep any credit card or banking information on it, but I do have all my contacts. People from my former work whom I wanted to keeping track of, my Christmas card list, a few of my college friends, lots of Dad’s friends. He was always losing his phone. More often than not, in a river. I went to the office to make the call. “Uncle Bill, it’s Ensley.” I picked up the framed picture I’d sent Dad—three plus years ago. Sophie and I had gone to a spa. I smiled. They’d had a models special. You got a make-over and your picture taken at the end of the day.

  “Pumpkin, I’m so sorry.” We both listened to silence for a long, long minute.

  “Didn’t you get my message last night?” I’d merely asked him to call me. I took a deep breath.

  “I did. I was about to call you when Janie called this morning. Pumpkin. What can I do?”

  “Did he tell you about any trouble he was having?”

  “I knew he was up to something. When I pressed him he wouldn’t talk about it. Last I heard from him was a week and a half ago. Said he was going to check on some things and promised we’d go fishing when he got back.” I heard a sniff. “Damn fool.”

  “Uncle Bill, that’s about the time he went missing. He didn’t say where he was going or what he was after?”

  “No. We talked fishing. He had a new fly rod coming in the mail.”

  We talked for a few more minutes. He promised me he’d be here for the funeral and said he’d call a few of my Dad’s closest friends. Uncle Bill is the best.

  I called Cindy to see if she’d been able to get a hold of Cole. “I talked to Don March.” I could hear the apprehension in her voice.

  “Please tell me he isn’t coming out here.” Please!

  “No. I told him it wouldn’t be a good idea. He feels bad about what happened.”

  I gripped the phone. “What happened?”

  “The breakup. What else?” She sounded confused.

  I skipped past the question. “Yeah, well, don’t we all?”

  “Yes. He said there’s no way to contact Cole and get him back here without jeopardizing an eighteen-month mission. I’ll be there. My flight leaves tomorrow afternoon. I’ll rent a car and be there the next morning. I’m sorry I couldn’t get a flight out any sooner.”

  We hung up. I wished Cole was going to be here, but that’s the way things go when you serve your country for a living. I’d gotten used to it growing up. If anything big happened in the world, oh say like Russian leaders invading neighboring countries, or others tearing down walls dividing people, he was gone. We learned early to face crises on our own.

  I glanced at my phone. If I could make it through growing up during the cold war and terrorist attacks, I could make it through this. The only difference now was—loss cut through my heart like a surgeon’s scalpel—Dad wouldn’t be coming home.

  I walked back into the kitchen.

  “How are you holding up?” Jane asked.

  “I don’t know. I told Uncle Bill the funeral would be Friday. Is it going to be at the funeral home? Are we supposed to have people over afterwards?” I shivered. I needed to make another list. I reached for my notebook.

  “I already took care of part of it. We’re going to talk to Pastor Evan down to the Church today.”

  “What time?” I flipped open the cover.

  “Right after lunch.”

  I wrote it down. “We should have a reception after the service. Where?”

  “Church.”<
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  When we were done with the arrangements, I gazed out through the serving window into the dining room. “Those guys really did make a terrible mess.” Smudges of black fingerprint powder marred nearly every surface.

  Through the window—the one not boarded-up—I saw a tall man with blond hair climb the front steps. He knocked, then opened the front door. “Hello?”

  I stood there, unsure what to do. I mean it was a bed and breakfast, so were people supposed to walk in? Still, after last night...

  Jane hurried over to him. “Sorry, we aren’t open for guests.”

  “Wait a minute.” I’d been thinking about this and from what I could see, there was no reason we couldn’t be taking guests. Besides, a fully functioning B&B would be an easier sell than a closed one. I pulled Jane aside. “How much trouble could it be? One guy. It’ll bring in some income we could use.”

  “Now, that’s a fact. The only thing to do is breakfast and make a bed. No problem there.”

  I walked over to the man. “I’m sorry for the confusion. We’d be happy to have you stay with us. Things are in a bit of a turmoil, but we’ll get them cleaned up for you.” I put out my hand. “I’m Ensley Markus, my dad, er, I’m the owner.” Part owner. I figured Cole had a half interest.

  “Ross Tyson.” He had a strong handshake. “And I appreciate it. I’ve got a lot of work to do in this area and I don’t want to spend my time driving all over. I’ve got four men coming the first of the week. Can you can make room for them, too?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Thanks, I’ll go get my bags.” He went out to his car.

  Jane pursed her lips. “Don’t know how well Jack is going to take this. It being a crime scene and all.”

  “Odd.” Mr. Tyson had to walk around the yellow crime scene tape. I watched it flutter in the wind. Why hadn’t he asked about it? “Which room should we put him in?”

  “There’s three rooms in the basement, Doc.” She hesitated. Shook her head and went on. “Room for his men down there, too. If we’re going to take guests, we’d better get things straightened up. Luke, he’s a local boy, left a card last night. Said he had a girl who cleans. He’s starting a business. Good kid.”

  »§«

  The town meeting was in two hours. And I still had to go to the Sheriff’s office.

  I hurried upstairs, and changed. I had no idea what to expect, either at the Sheriff’s office or the Town Meeting. Oh, goodie, more stress.

  With a shower and my clothes changed, I felt as good as I was going to.

  I referred to the Mayor’s note. As promised, he’d drawn a map showing me the Sheriff’s office, and town hall. As small as the town was, I’d gotten a pretty good idea of the layout driving to Jack’s and the Gas and Gulp.

  Having spent the last four days sitting in a car, I decided to walk. A decision I regretted at the end of the driveway. Instead of the nice even sidewalks of Langley, I found the roots of the Idaho trees more aggressive. They pushed slabs of concrete up at odd angles. In spots, whole sections had turned to gravel. This terrain was not friendly to my Christian Louboutin heels. I refuse to go through life short. I guess five, five isn’t short, but I’d planned on being somewhere in the range of five, eight. With my heels, I was a little above my goal.

  As I picked my way down the sidewalk, I again wondered about the Sheriff. Yes, I’d talked to him, I’d met his dog, and I’d stayed at his house. No mistake, there was a lot more to this man than a badge and a gun.

  People have a phone persona, an e-mail persona, and then there’s how they are in person. I’d pictured him more like the mayor, a good ol’ farm boy, from Spirit Springs. He wasn’t. No, he sure wasn’t. And his house? There were a lot of questions that needed to be answered.

  He said we were going to work together to solve this. No. That wasn’t exactly what he’d said. It had been more of a you-have-my-permission-to-stay while I solve the case arrangement. I had no intention of standing by while someone else took their time solving this case.

  A dark blue crew-cab pickup with a police graphic on the door sat in front of a square stone building. Inside, I found a woman sorting files. “Hello, is the Sheriff in?”

  Without taking her eyes off her filing she said, “Sure, in his office?” And pointed to a room with three large windows for walls.

  I found Jack and Lois in his office. Lois was excited to see me. I had a feeling she was happy to see everyone. I knelt down to give her a pet and got a lot of excited dog in my face. As a result I ended up on the floor.

  “Lois, we’ve talked about this,” Jack scolded as he reached out to me. His grip was firm but gentle as took my hand. And warm. A tickling sensation flooded up my arm. “Are you okay?” Effortlessly, he pulled me to my feet.

  “Thank you.” He’d been nothing but kind, except for the gun thing last night. Dad trusted him. So would I. For now.

  Chapter Seven

  Before I sat down, my phone rang. I pulled it out. What was he calling me for? I pushed the ignore button and slipped it back in my purse.

  Lois settled back on the floor.

  “First, I want to tell you how sorry I am about your father.” His eyes held a deep sadness mixed with fortitude. “The General was a good guy.”

  Had he and my dad been close? “Thank you. Were you friends?”

  “Military finds military. Like I said, we served at the same time.”

  That had an interesting ring to it. Served at the same time? “Together?”

  “Ralph was proud of you. Always telling anyone who’d listen about what a big shot you were at CBK Corp.”

  “I was a researcher.”

  “Not to hear Ralph tell it. The Mayor told me you’re going to be the new town doctor.”

  Slam on this runaway train’s brakes. “I’m not—” I smiled. “I’m not licensed to practice in Idaho.”

  “Howard.” He shook his head. “Hears only part of the conversation and distorts the rest to benefit himself.” He picked up a file, got to his feet, came around, and sat on the edge of his desk. “I will find the men who did this.” There was a steely glint of determination in his hazel eyes that matched his self-confidence.

  He’d set his goal, and so had I.

  Now was as good a time as any to put my plan into action. “Do you know why he closed the B&B six months ago?”

  “First tell me about this threatening phone call you received this morning.”

  “It was just that. They said if I didn’t leave town I’d end up like my dad. What scared me was that they had my cell number. As far as I know only you, Jane and Nate.... How did Nate get it? He called me when I was driving out here. Would someone in your office have given it to him?”

  “No. I’m the only one who has it. May I see your phone?”

  “I already checked for the number.” I pulled it out and gave it to him.

  “Mind if I take a look at your phone records?”

  “If it will help.”

  He handed it back to me.

  “Why did he close the B&B?” I wanted an answer.

  “I asked him the same thing a dozen times. I got as many answers. Whatever it was I wish he’d confided in me. I could have helped. Your dad was a very stubborn man.”

  That wasn’t news to anyone who knew him. “Nothing happened before that?”

  “I remember it was a couple of days after our monthly poker game.”

  “Who was there?” Maybe there was a connection.

  “Same guys who play every month.”

  “Did you ask Jane?” Maybe she’d tell him something she wouldn’t tell me.

  “She said he wouldn’t talk about it. Then, last week, he got a call and left without a word.”

  “Do you think it was a threatening call like mine?”

  “The General.” He smiled. “It would have made him mad. It wouldn’t send him into hiding.” He raised the file in his hand as he spoke. “He vanished, truck and all. When a man as smart as your father disap
pears, it’s not easy to find them.”

  “I didn’t see his truck. How did he get back to the B&B without it?”

  “Good question. I’ve got Kenny out looking for it, now.”

  I wasn’t getting the answers I needed. “Did anything unusual happen six months ago?”

  “Besides the resort leaving?” Again, he studied the file in his hand. “No.”

  “What could the resort have to do with all this?”

  “Nothing I know of. No one around here had any money invested. Other than Max Jessen and Dave Purdy. Max sold them a bunch of land on a contract. When they went belly up, so did the contract. Max has a lot of ground torn-up and nothing to show for it. He didn’t get a dime. Dave sold them beef he didn’t get paid for.”

  “Were they friends of Dad’s?”

  “Nothing more than a casual hello in passing.”

  “What is that?” I pointed to the file.

  “Ralph’s file. I can’t let the original out of the office. Technically, you’re not allowed to see it at all.” He let the file fall against his knee. “Someone called in a favor.” I couldn’t tell if it was the favor he didn’t like or the person. It was definitely one or the other. “This is an officially requested copy. The person who asked for it isn’t here.” I could hear the thank God in his voice. “He insisted you get a copy.” He held out the folder. “I wouldn’t do this for anyone else, so I’d appreciate it if we could keep it between us.” He let go.

  “Do you usually give out police files?”

  “No.”

  That was it? “Just no?”

  “Against regulations.” He appeared as if he wanted to take the file back. “This is a copy. I’m not sure if it counts.”

  He knew as well as I did. It counted. Which brought up the question, who would request a copy specifically for me? Who knew I was even in town or that my dad had been murdered? I shivered as the words passed through my brain. It wasn’t a secret I was coming here. Still— The Sheriff’s expression wasn’t a happy one. “Who requested it?” I thought it was worth a try.