by Kathi Daley
Rosalie was sitting in the living room staring out the window when I arrived at the resort. She had a distant and contemplative look on her face, but she turned and smiled at me when I came into the room. “How was your night out with Jenna?”
“Good,” I answered as I sat down on the chair across from her. “I had a nice time in South Carolina, but it’s good to be home.”
“And I’m glad to have you home. Your dad and I really missed you all while you were away. Mike mentioned on several occasions that the house was so quiet with everyone gone. Too quiet. I know having me here is a big change for you, and while I love your dad very much and want to be part of his everyday life, the last thing I want to do is disrupt the wonderful multigenerational family you have.”
I paused. “I really don’t want to disrupt that either, but I thought as a newly engaged couple you would need some space to really settle in. Things, as you know, can be pretty hectic around here when everyone is home.”
Rosalie paused before she answered. It appeared as if she was considering her response. “I’ve been alone for a long time, and I can say without a doubt that quiet is very overrated. Honestly, I’m thrilled to finally be part of a big noisy family. I know your dad wants us all to live here at the resort. I want that as well and hope you’ll consider staying now that you are home.”
I stopped to look around the room. The resort had been my home for most of my life. I supposed one day I’d marry and move out, but until then it really was the best place for the girls and me. “I’ll admit I felt awkward when you first moved in. It isn’t that I don’t care about you—you know I’ve always enjoyed our friendship—but change can be hard for me. I do think my time away has given me some perspective, and I know Dad’s accident has caused me to look at things differently. So yes, I’d very much like to remain living here for the time being if it really is okay with you.”
Rosalie smiled. “It’s more than okay.”
After we spoke I went up to bed. I knew bringing someone new into what had been so very perfect was going to have difficult moments, but Dad loved Rosalie, and after almost losing him, I wanted nothing more than to ensure he had everything and everyone he needed in his life to make him happy once he woke up.
I was exhausted and should have been able to fall asleep instantly, but I found myself tossing and turning. After trying to force the issue, I finally sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. I grabbed my computer from the nearby table and logged on. If I couldn’t sleep I might as well research the suspects we had identified at this point. I knew these things took time, but I had to admit that I felt a certain urgency I couldn’t quite explain. Maybe the idea resided in the back of my mind that once the case was solved and Judge Harper’s killer had been found, my dad would wake up and things would once again feel safe and normal.
I began by Googling Striker Bristow. In my mind, a man in the pursuit of a payday made the best suspect. The fact that Bristow was a developer with some pretty major projects under his belt made him a public figure of sorts, so I figured there would be a decent amount of information readily accessible. My research turned up some interesting but irrelevant facts. He was born in Atlanta but grew up in Boston. He had degrees in both architecture and engineering and worked for an international developer after graduating college. He set out on his own when he was in his early thirties, and in the eleven years he’d owned his own company he had accumulated an impressive resume of projects. His last project prior to coming to Paradise Lake was a sixty-unit mall in Oklahoma, and before that he developed a ten-unit business complex in Chicago.
I had to wonder why a man with his background even wanted to mess with a strip mall in Serenity, Nevada. It seemed like a step down from his last project, although Bookman did say the man stood to make tens of millions of dollars.
I tried to find something on Bristow that would support the idea that he was willing to play dirty in order to get what he wanted, but in spite of my efforts I was coming up blank. I did find an article detailing his recent divorce from his second wife. It appeared she had hired a skilled attorney and managed to come away with a fairly significant amount of money. Maybe the strip mall was a way for Bristow to refill his bank account.
After fishing around for another thirty minutes, I decided I wasn’t going to be able to dig up any dirt on Bristow, at least not without Kyle’s help. I decided to abandon my research into Mr. Bristow at least for the time being and move onto Fred Deerborn. While my Google search for items related to Striker Bristow turned up pages and pages of articles, I only found one item relating to Fred Deerborn: an obituary for his wife dated ten years prior.
I felt a wave of sympathy for the man. I didn’t know Deerborn well, but nothing about him suggested to me that he had once been married. He was such a cranky sort of guy that I had a hard time picturing him in a committed relationship with another person. Of course, it could have been the death of his wife that made him an ornery cuss in the first place.
I read the article and discovered Deerborn’s wife had been shot and killed during a home invasion, which occurred on the farm the couple lived on prior to Deerborn moving to Serenity. The man who killed Deerborn’s wife managed to get away before the police arrived, and, as of the time of the article I was reading, he had never been brought to justice. No wonder Deerborn was so paranoid about the individuals who lived and worked near him.
While both men would remain on my list based on what I’d discovered, I didn’t have a strong reason to suspect either one in Judge Harper’s death. I made a few notes and then moved onto the names I had listed from the files Roy and I retrieved from Judge Harper’s safe.
There wasn’t a lot of public information on either Gloria White or Brad Turnball. If Gloria had been involved in Judge Harper’s death, it seemed our best bet might be to try to get ahold of police records or perhaps records filed by case workers from CPS. I supposed if we decided there was a link between the child abuse case and Judge Harper’s death Roy might be able to get the information we needed, but since my hacking skills were pretty much nonexistent, I doubted there was much more information I could gather that evening.
I felt my energy begin to fade as I attempted to pull up information on Connie Blake. I tried to focus on the screen, but my eyes kept dipping closed. It really was late, and if I wanted to be of use to anyone tomorrow I knew I needed to get some sleep. After a quick look at Blake’s Facebook page and Twitter account, I turned off my computer and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 7
Saturday, July 1
The next morning, I decided to head to the hospital first thing. It was going to be a busy day, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus unless I was able to assure myself that Dad was continuing to improve. Hunter said it would take time for Dad to heal, and I knew I should be patient, but patience was something I really didn’t have.
Once I arrived on the third floor, I headed toward the reception desk. The nurse who usually manned the desk appeared to have stepped out and I didn’t see anyone else in the area, so I let myself into Dad’s room. As I had on my other visits I sat on the chair and took Dad’s hand in mine.
“How are you feeling this morning?” I asked conversationally. I really wasn’t expecting a response, but it seemed silly to sit there and not speak. “You look a little better today. Your color seems to be improving, and while I’m not a doctor so this isn’t an official observation, you seem to be resting easier.”
I paused as I looked around the room. It was another beautiful day and it hurt my heart that Dad wasn’t awake to enjoy it. I knew that the long days of summer, when the resort was booked to capacity and the campground smelled of smoke from the campfires, was his favorite time of the year.
“I’m not sure if you can hear me or if you are even thinking about things in there, but I wanted to let you know Grandpa and the girls are home. Grandpa was here yesterday and the girls want to
come by, but there are age limitations in the ICU. You know, if you would wake up, I could probably arrange for a visit.”
I glanced at the heart monitor as it beeped steadily. Nothing had changed since my previous visit, but things weren’t any worse. I supposed I should be grateful for that.
“Doc and Kyle will be home later today. I can’t believe how fast they managed to get things handled. It’ll be good to have everyone back in Paradise Lake. Now all we need is for you to come home and things can once again settle into a normal routine.”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was just so hard. I wanted to believe Dad would be okay, but what if he never woke up? I felt a single tear slide down my cheek. I let go of Dad’s hand to wipe it away and when I looked back I swore I saw a finger move.
“Dad? Are you in there?”
Hunter had warned me about involuntary twitches, but I wanted so badly to believe.
“Can you hear the sound of my voice?”
Nothing.
I stared at Dad’s hand and willed it to move.
“If you can hear me, Dad, move a finger.”
I jumped when his finger moved just a bit.
“Nurse!” I yelled as loud as I could.
The woman who must have returned to the front desk came running. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
“My dad moved his finger. Get Dr. Hanson. If he isn’t in the hospital call his cell.”
She walked over and took a closer look at the monitor. “Are you sure you saw him move? Sometimes our imaginations play tricks on us.”
“I’m sure. Just call Hunter.”
The nurse glanced back at the bed.
“Now!” I emphasized.
She turned and left the room. I’d call Hunter myself, but there wasn’t any cell reception in this part of the hospital, and I didn’t want to leave Dad to go downstairs. Apparently Hunter was in the hospital, because he showed up in the room in less than five minutes.
“You had me paged?” Hunter asked.
“Dad moved his finger.”
Hunter approached the bed and looked at the monitor readings.
“I told him to move his finger if he could hear me and he did. Does that mean he’s waking up?”
“Maybe,” Hunter answered. With one finger, he opened one of Dad’s eyelids. Then he shone a light into the eye. “I need to run some tests before I know for sure.”
“Did you hear that, Dad? Hunter’s going to run some tests. Show him that you can move your finger.”
I stared at Dad’s hand. It took five or so seconds, but Dad moved his finger once again.
Hunter smiled.
“So he is waking up?” I asked.
“Like I said, I need to run some tests, but yeah, moving a finger in response to a verbal cue is a very good sign.” Hunter looked at his watch. “Even if he is waking up, though, it won’t happen immediately. I’m going to order the tests. Why don’t you go home? I’ll call you when I know more.”
I hated to leave just in case Dad did wake up, but Hunter insisted I couldn’t stay with him during the tests, which would take several hours at least.
As soon as I returned to Grandpa’s truck, I called Rosalie. “Dad moved a finger.”
“He did? It wasn’t just a twitch?”
“No. It was intentional. I asked him to move a finger if he could hear me and he did. Hunter’s running some tests to be sure.”
“I should come down.”
“Hunter said we can’t be with him while the tests are being done. He promised to call us when he knows more.”
After I spoke to Rosalie I sat in the truck debating what to do. I wanted to be close by if Dad did wake up, but remaining at the hospital while Hunter performed his tests seemed like a waste of precious time. I considered heading back to the resort when Roy called.
“Hey, Roy, what’s up?”
“I hate to bother you so early in the morning, but I have a few updates.”
“I want to be bothered. What do you have?”
On his end, I could hear Roy shuffling around. He might have been changing his location or perhaps reaching for notes or paperwork. “After we spoke yesterday I started looking into the whereabouts of the five suspects we identified for the night Judge Harper’s brake lines were cut.”
“And did they have alibis?”
“I’ve only managed to track down three of the five so far, and all three have alibis I’ve been able to verify.” Roy cleared his throat. “The car was tampered with while he was parked at the community center for the town council meeting. We know this because Judge Harper was able to drive to the meeting without incident. We also suspect he arrived at the meeting at around five thirty. Two different people have confirmed that he always arrived a half hour early to set up before the six o’clock meeting. The meeting was over at nine thirty and the judge left with your father by ten.”
Okay. So far I was following. “So the lines were cut between five thirty and ten.”
Roy responded, “We believe whoever cut the line did so closer to ten, probably after it got dark at around nine, but we’re using the five thirty to ten window for the time being.”
“Okay, so who can we eliminate?”
“Connie Blake was brought in for questioning. She seemed nervous, a lot more nervous than would be expected if she were truly innocent. For a minute I thought we had our killer. It turned out, however, that she was working that night.”
I thought for a moment. “I remembered from the file that she works for the electric company. Wouldn’t she be off at that time of night?”
“She got a second job working at the café on Fourth Street and didn’t get off until eleven. She arrived there at five and her coworkers have verified she never left, so I’m fairly certain she isn’t the person we’re looking for. I do think she might be behind the bank robberies, though, as Judge Harper suspected.”
I crossed the room and sat down on the chair beside the now dormant fireplace. “Why do you say that?”
“For one thing, she seemed super nervous when she was first brought in, but when I told her we were talking to people regarding Judge Harper’s car accident, she relaxed visibly.”
I supposed that did make it seem like she might have something to hide. “So she’s probably guilty of something, just not tampering with Judge Harper’s car. I don’t know her well, but I do know who she is. She doesn’t seem the type to rob a bank.”
“Actually, she does.” Roy paused for a moment, then said something to someone before continuing. “Ms. Blake was accused of robbing three banks around the lake five years ago. She was acquitted by a jury, partially, I believe, because the prosecution failed to provide any physical evidence of her guilt and partially because Ms. Blake was a sympathetic character.”
“Sympathetic how?”
“Shortly before the first robbery her six-year-old son was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer, and her medical insurance wouldn’t cover treatment that was considered experimental at the time. After reading trial transcripts, it seems to me some of the jury believed she was guilty, but, given the reason she seemed to need the money, were sympathetic to her circumstances. Additionally, the bank robber back then, like the one now, took only small amounts of cash from each bank and never showed a gun or was violent in any way.”
“So she robbed the banks to pay her medical bills.”
“If she’s guilty—and that has never been proven, nor has she admitted as much—then yes, that’s what it looks like she did. I did some digging and found out that the boy responded to treatment and is doing well to this day.”
I couldn’t condone Connie Blake robbing banks as a source of income, but in her circumstances, I might have done the same thing. The more I thought about it, the more certain I was that if Ashley or Gracie needed medical treatment I could
n’t afford, I would do anything to get them the help they needed. “If Connie was guilty of robbing the banks back then, why would she start doing it again five years later?”
“Her daughter, who’s ten, has diabetes. She needs a kidney transplant and is on the list for a donor. I spoke to some of Ms. Blake’s friends who informed me the girl isn’t doing well. Ms. Blake is afraid she’ll die before her number comes up, so she’s looking into private options, all of which are very expensive. It seems to me she got tired of waiting and took matters into her own hands.”
I frowned. “What are you going to do? You’re not going to arrest her?”
“I can’t arrest her; all I have at this point is a theory and absolutely no proof. I do intend to go back to look at the physical evidence we’ve gathered from the more current bank robberies to see if I can find my proof.”
“Roy, she needed the money for her children. Who can blame her?”
“Personally, I wouldn’t blame her a bit if she turned out to be guilty, but finding the guilty party after a crime has been committed is my job, regardless of the reason behind it.”
I felt terrible for the woman and secretly hoped Roy wouldn’t find what he was looking for. “So we can eliminate Connie Blake as a suspect in Judge Harper’s death. You said you had three people to eliminate. Who else?”
“Fred Deerborn. It turns out he was at the town council meeting the night the car was tampered with. Initially I considered that he could have snuck out, cut the brake lines, and snuck back in, but the meeting’s recorded and Fred Deerborn is visible in the background the whole time. He never left his seat and walked out with a group shortly after it was over.”
“And the third person you said could be eliminated?”
“Brad Turnbull is in the county lockup, which we already knew, and couldn’t have done it, and based on Judge Harper’s file it appears he believed it was the mother and not the boyfriend doling out the abuse. To my mind that gave her motive to want the judge out of the way, but I checked and she was locked up in the drunk tank the evening of the council meeting. She couldn’t have killed him, though she might still be the one abusing her son, so I turned the judge’s notes over to the prosecutor in the case. He seems to think Harper might have been on to something.”