Sitting on a ten foot high boulder next to, but out of the way of, the down pouring water, I sunned myself again, watched the children play, dried my feet, and listened to the echoing sound of the falls bouncing off the surrounding canyon.
I made up my mind to speak to Felix Jung. If I learned enough from Jung, I'd get the hell out of Fort Collins, Colorado, and let the police handle this. If I didn't, I’d try to meet Jack Hostel. Of course, once I got back to Philly, I'd fully brief Detective Morelli on this trip.
After a good rest I headed around the falls, over to the Wathen Trail and started my hike up to Horsetooth Rock. It was all up hill from here. This trail was through open, low shrub country and I soon peeled off my sweatshirt as I was sun drenched. I was very glad to be wearing only a t-shirt and shorts. A young couple was fifty yards ahead of me walking at a brisk pace. I kept up as they confidently walked toward the big rock formation.
After a pretty tough quarter-mile climb the switchback path leveled off. I continued on the path to the top and, gratefully, it entered into some tree cover. It was a peaceful grove of ponderosa pines. The hills and valleys were brightened by the yellows of goldenrod. As I continued on my counter-clockwise path upward, two large birds circled overhead. I spotted their yellow talons and quickly referred to the map. They were Golden Eagles, common to these mountains. I stopped worrying when they swooped over to the next ridge.
Maybe my luck had changed.
I looked around and down as this vantage revealed the entire valley below. I stopped and took in the view. I caught a glimpse of another hiker on his way up the trail, and three others all the way back at the start, near the falls. I could see all of Fort Collins and Loveland at my feet and miles of the prairie beyond to the east, south and north. The trail narrowed as it followed a dry creek bed upwards again, under the shade of more ponderosa pines. The path leveled off a second time and a sign indicated that I had come to the Horsetooth Rock Trail.
After another minute of rest, I walked onward and upward. Just as it seemed like I'd walked for a solid hour, I turned a final corner and the base of Horsetooth Rock was straight ahead. The rock looms up several hundred feet from the trees and shrubs and is craggy red rock. I wanted to go to the top.
I gathered from seeing the same young couple in the air above me that getting to the summit required the use of all fours. I learned later that this is called bouldering. I conquered my fear of falling because I didn’t look down at the cliffs around me. In ten minutes I was standing on the north end of Horsetooth Rock drinking in the incredible 360 degree panorama.
The views from the summit were breathtaking. Using my binoculars added to the seemingly endless vistas. Tops of the Rockies were visible in the distance west, and looking back down the trail, I felt like I climbed half the way from town. To the east, I could see on and on across Colorado. I found Long's Peak and the Mummy Mountains to the south, and the tops of the Front Range towards the northwest. All in all, it wasn't a bad way to spend a Tuesday afternoon.
I sat after ten minutes of sightseeing, took off my daypack and ate my apple and banana. I cooled down with long swallows from my water bottle. The guy in the twosome came over and said, “Some view, isn’t it?”
I agreed and we talked for a minute and then the young couple said goodbye and headed down off the rock. Being up in the mountains, I thought about my future. I said a prayer of thanks.
I suddenly felt very lonely and decided to call Edie as I needed to hear her voice and talk about the next steps in this adventure. I stood and walked close to the edge of the rock, about six feet from the cliff, soaking in the incredible view.
Amazingly, my cell phone got reception up here in the foothills. The phone rang three times and then Edie said hello.
“Hello, beautiful.”
“Oh, Stevie, I'm so glad you called. Where are you?”
“I'm in the hills above Fort Collins standing on top of a small mountain peak.”
“Oh my God, that sounds so romantic. I wish I was there too!”
“It would be so much fun if you were. This day trip is really taking my mind off the case. Actually, this has been a terrific past three hours. I took a hike down to a hidden waterfall in Horsetooth Mountain Park. Which is a funny name, isn't it? Now, I've hiked to the top of one of the horse's teeth on the big Rock. I agree with what another hiker said to me, 'It’s one of the best little mountains I’ve ever climbed.' I'm seeing for miles and miles on this sunny, summer day.”
“Wow. That's much more exciting than what I've been up to.”
As we talked, I moved closer to the edge, intending to sit down, when I slipped on the crushed rock. I fell on my butt, landing four feet from the sheer drop, but I wasn’t in danger of going over. Even still, I blurted out, “Holy cow!”
“Stevie, what happened?”
“Edie, I just scared myself. I slipped on some loose rocks and slid near the edge of the cliff. The gravel is in a little depression and the rock underneath is worn smooth. I bet water flows there and over the cliff in a little waterfall when it rains.”
“Please be careful!”
“I sure didn’t expect that to happen. The gravel was on top of the slick, polished rock here and was really slippery. Anyway, I’m safely sitting about four feet back now. I’m sorry to scare you. I wasn't in danger. I’m okay. What were we talking about?”
“I was saying I had a pretty boring day. I’m memorizing a script.”
***
Then, I hear crushed rock under a boot. I turn and a tall, muscular, strawberry-blonde-haired man in his early thirties is twenty feet behind me, moving steadily towards me, focused on me. It's the same guy from the pickup truck that almost hit my SUV, earlier, on the streets of Fort Collins. He looks like a linebacker and strong enough to be a Denver Bronco. I pick up the limp in his right leg. He’s wearing jeans, a t-shirt and lightweight hiking boots. He's dripping wet from sweat due to the hard climb. There's a flash of reflected sunlight from his right hand. He has a Bowie knife with a six-inch blade sticking up between his thumb and fingers. The knife is aimed at my head. I drop my cellphone. It bounces on the rocky surface, side-ways, about two feet to my right and only inches from the cliff edge. The phone rests face up.
“Garrett, you think you’re smart, don’t you?”
Instinctively, I know this is Jack Hostel but I'm too scared to stop myself from saying, “Who are you?”
“I think you know.”
Within seconds, I make the connection. It all makes sense. That's how he knew about everything.
I need to stall for time. It will be a few minutes only, on this perfect summer day, before someone will come up the trail and start bouldering up to us. He won’t want to kill a third person.
“When did you get back, Jack, this morning?”
“Yeah, that’s right, Garrett.”
I say, “A second murder is going to be hard to fight in court.”
Hostel smiles. “This isn’t a murder. This is an unfortunate accident.”
I figure out his intent here. He doesn’t want to stab me or cut me. He wants me to go over the cliff, unhurt, so it looks like I fell. It would be the perfect crime. I’d be a stupid out-of-towner who didn’t know this hill.
“But, the first one wasn’t an accident.”
“No, that was a mistake,” he says calmly.
“I agree; it was a mistake to kill Andi?”
“No, Garrett, that lesbian slut made the mistake. She stuck her pretty little nose in other people’s business.”
While still seated, I turn my body around completely so I'm fully facing him. I want to be able to stand quickly.
I ask, “So, why did Red tell you about that Kimmel Center night?”
“The lesbian slut stole your client from Red.”
“That’s not what I heard. All three of them were special friends,” I add.
“Sure they were, and if you believe that, then you must think I'll turn myself into the cops.”
I'm still shocked by it all and ask, “Why did Red blackmail her friends? It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Red didn’t have anything to do with it. In fact, she didn’t know. She only wanted the blonde bitch to get screwed by her sugar-daddy hubbie.”
“Then why did you kill Andi?”
“The blonde bitch figured out the blackmailing, somehow. Red was scared and cracked under the pressure when the bitch confronted her in Florida. Red told Andi that Jill and I were in Colorado. Red isn’t strong like my Jill. She’s almost as weak as your client.”
Stalling for more time, I said, “Do you really think you can get away with this?”
Hostel laughed. “I already have. I’m tired of talking Garrett. You know the whole story and I can’t let you tell anyone else. Now, get up and step backward. Two small steps should do it. Just make this easy for both of us. I don't want to cut your pretty neck.”
“Up yours Hostel, do it the hard way.”
In a split second I'm on my feet. I jump over the gravel channel. I'm to Jack’s right. He turns and starts towards me, closing the gap between us. My escape is blocked by a large boulder to my left.
Jack is about four feet from me and moving quickly, when I look to my left, over Jack’s right shoulder, and scream out, “Jill, what are you doing here?”
It's enough of a distraction. Jack turns his head to the right. His right foot slips in the gravel on the slick granite. He tries to regain his balance as he swings his head back towards me.
I give Jack my best pass-receiver fake to my right, but, instead, I dive forward and down to my left. I go for his Achilles' heel; I pull his right leg upwards. As Jack falls backwards, he makes his last mistake. He doesn’t drop the knife to break his fall; instead, he wildly swings his right hand back at me.
I’m sprawled on the rock on my left side and the knife slices my upper right arm. But, his head hits the red rock hard and he loses control. He’s stunned. I'm able to kick his right side toward the cliff. The knife pops out of his hand as his legs go over the sheer drop. I reach for his right arm, but miss. The little channel is too slick from water rushing over it for thousands of years. Jack has nothing to grab. In an instant he disappears over the edge.
The echoing sounds of “Fuck youuuuuuuu, Garrettttttt!” end with a soft thud hundreds of feet below.
***
It was nearly midnight by the time I left the Fort Collins Police Station on LaPorte Avenue. Earlier, the emergency room put seventeen stitches in my right bicep, and covered it with a white bandage. I also carried two bottles of pills in my pants pocket; a painkiller and an antibiotic. The wound stung and ached, but I was okay.
Three things helped me walk free that night. First, Edie heard the whole attack by Jack as my cellphone stayed connected to her. She was able to corroborate my story.
Second, the couple is married that I trailed up to the Rock. They are also cops, off-duty at the time, and they saw Jack climb the Rock after they returned to the trail. From a distance down the trail, they saw Jack lunge toward me on the edge of the cliff. They heard his last scream and were first on the scene. To them I explained what happened and why I was in Fort Collins. I also identified Jack’s body.
Finally, I didn’t touch the knife and the police were able to take and match Jack’s fingerprints.
I also put the police in contact with John Morelli in Philly. Detective Morelli's timing couldn't have been better. He called me back while I sat in the interrogation room, and he explained Andi’s death to the Fort Collins Police.
Jill was taken into custody shortly after she learned of Jack’s death. The last time I saw Jill the police were escorting her into a different room for questioning. Her composure was remarkable, icy and with a hard stare. When we made eye contact she aimed her up-turned left middle finger at me.
The police tell me Jill blames Jack for everything. She even provides the dates and details of Jack’s trip to Philadelphia in late May.
I say Jill is involved too. They ask me for proof, for evidence to back my claim. I instantly realize I have none. I can’t mention the phone conversation I overheard with the listening device or I’d confess my own crime. All these thoughts rush through my head in the fifteen seconds I pause. Reluctantly, I admit, I have nothing solid to link Jill to Andi’s murder or the blackmail. Even Jack said nothing to implicate Jill. It’s my word against hers.
However, as the long hours pass slowly in interrogation, another idea develops in my mind; my own plan to resolve everything.
red's story
I spent most of Wednesday in my hotel room. The police asked me to stay in Fort Collins for a day or two as they sorted things out. I was shaken by Jack's death. I should have been. I could have been killed. It was only the second time my actions led to the death of someone, even if I've acted in self-defense both times.
Jesus! The whole event took less than five minutes, but I'll remember Jack's attack and our conversation for years. It was the one and only time I met him.
Talking to Edie helped. I soon realized she was even more affected than I was by the death on Horsetooth Mountain. She hadn't slept very much Tuesday night and we talked for a long time that next morning.
Edie was floored about everything. She asked me too many times about my arm. I think I finally convinced her I wasn't seriously hurt. She wanted to come to Denver. I convinced her to wait a few days as I was sure this investigation was about to end. I explained how. She would make plans to fly east, all the way to Philadelphia.
***
I also talked to Walter Hines. I briefed him about the sudden death in Fort Collins and the whole interstate crime story. Hines told me that he spoke to Eve yesterday and informed her that he was going to ask the court for Robert's financial records, including details of the blackmail payoff. Eve reacted calmly, but said that wouldn't prove anything and had nothing to do with Andi's estate or probate court.
Walter and I agreed that we would meet as soon as I returned home to discuss our next steps, including contacting Eve again about Robert's affair and his involvement in the blackmail.
***
I phoned Cyndie. She was in working in my living room. She was very glad to hear from me and amazed at all the news from Horsetooth Mountain. Cyndie offered her opinion of this mystery's missing link before I ventured my guess. We both agreed - we found the answer. She concurred with my idea to call and reach out to learn the whole story.
***
Late in the day I met again with the Fort Collins police and learned that they are considering charging Jill Grayson with conspiracy for my attempted murder, even though they admitted that would be hard to prove. They would also work with the Philadelphia Police Department to make Jill available for Andi’s murder. But, for now, after providing all my contact information, I was free to go.
I left knowing I hadn't shared my suspicions about one other person in this mystery. I would find the truth about that next.
***
I left two messages Wednesday on her work phone and didn’t get a call back until 9:30 p.m. No, she wasn’t coming to Colorado. No, she didn’t plan to speak to authorities.
I explained my offer and she agreed to meet with me, alone, on the beach. I agreed to wear only a swimsuit so she can see nothing is concealed. Plus, I would take a five-minute swim in the surf prior to our conversation.
Yes, Red Sable would see me the next day in Fort Lauderdale.
***
I bodysurfed one last wave and waded to shore. The water felt great and helped to refresh me after the long flights east, southeast, that Thursday from Denver and Atlanta. My arm stung and I was glad I had popped a pain killer while I changed in my Fort Lauderdale beach hotel room.
I didn’t wait long on the dry sand above the high-tide line before I heard, “Stevie.”
I turned and there was Red Sable. Once again my eyes took in this healthy, fit woman with her vibrant red hair and her bright aquamarine eyes. The whites of those eyes were
red from crying and her face was blotchy red too. She wore a green two piece swimsuit; a boys pants and a sleeveless camisole-like top.
I was surprised that she came right up and hugged me. I held her tight and said, “Red, I’m so sorry about Jack and everything that happened. I don't know what to say. Thanks again for meeting me.”
She sighed. “Where do we start?”
“At the beginning.”
“Let’s take a walk, north,” she said.
I tried to break the ice. It wasn't easy. How do you avoid falling into a person's pit of despair? Jack Hostel was a murderer and a blackmailer, and, now, was dead. There's no point in delaying the inevitable too much. I tried some small talk.
Then, two minutes later, she stopped for a moment, turned to me, and said, “Stevie, tell me what happened in Colorado.”
I told it all.
Red frowned, breathed deep, then said in a soft voice, “Stevie, look, I've lived this nightmare for four months. I hated it from the beginning and it kept getting worse.”
Since she was talking, I simply nodded.
Red was suddenly agitated, flipped her hair over her right shoulder and started walking again. I hurried to catch up.
Red began talking. “Okay, listen! I learned the whole story after the night at the Kimmel Center. Jack and Jill Grayson couldn't keep their big mouths shut. I started asking questions when it became apparent that he loved Jill and they were moving home to Colorado. Where did they get the money? How did they know so much about that night and the filming?
Sexy Girls Page 22