A Snow Covered Nightmare: Refuge Series Book Two

by Debbie Zello

  Briah was using what she had learned in college about the law and its perplexities, to help the detectives she was working with. She was in the fraud division and as such, she was helping to correct the damage done by identity theft.

  She went home every day that first week, exhausted. She had worked for Dan for two years and knew her job well. It had become second nature, like taking a bath. You washed in the same order, every time. That is how she approached her job.

  The cases that bothered her the most were the predators that preyed on the elderly. She felt they should occupy a special place in prison as well as in hell.

  The case she was helping with today was one where a young man would call saying he was the grandson of the victim. He needed money for bail as he had been falsely arrested. Somehow, he had duped seven different people out of thousands of dollars. They simply gave him their banking information over the phone. Then he went to their bank and emptied their accounts.

  Briah read with disgust the interview of one ninety-year-old woman. Her grandson was wonderful to her. He would visit her and take her to a movie or out to lunch. She got a call from the dirt-bag and he took over nine-thousand dollars from her. Briah wanted him badly.

  “How does he get their phone numbers?” she said aloud. She liked thinking aloud. “How does he know who to call?” She flipped back through the reports. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but still she perused them.

  She focused on one report that said the man had recently given away a bedroom set. He was moving to a one-bedroom apartment from his two-bedroom house. He placed an ad in the paper for a free bedroom set. The detectives had cleared the couple who took the set.

  Something clicked and she went back to the first victim’s report. She stated that several months prior she had placed an ad to sell her car. Her family had pressured her to stop driving. She had several calls about the car but no one came to see it nor did she sell it. She finally donated it to a local charity. The detectives had cleared the men who had come to pick the car up.

  Briah picked up the phone and dialed the latest victim’s number. It rang a few times and then she heard, “Hello.”

  “Mrs. Potter? This is Briah Spencer. I work for the fraud division of the Denver police. How are you today?”

  “I’m fine dear. Have you found my money?” she asked.

  “Sorry, not yet, but that is why I’m calling. Did you place an ad with your name and number in the newspaper recently?”

  “No. I haven’t had anything to sell in years.” Briah felt her body deflate. She was so sure she was on to something. She guessed it was too easy to think he just looked in the paper for his victims. “I was on the news a few weeks ago,” she continued as an afterthought.

  “What?”

  “Yes, my cat Jimmy went up a tree in my neighbor’s yard. He was so far up and we couldn’t coax him to come down. They called the fire department.

  “Those nice men came with a big truck and a tall ladder. They just went up and got him. The local ABC news people came out and filmed the whole thing. It was on the TV for the next day and a half.

  “They interviewed me and everything. I was a celebrity at the senior center.”

  “Bingo! Thank you, Mrs. Potter. I think we’ll be calling you back. Have a nice day,” Briah said.

  “You too, dear.”

  Briah smacked the air with a high five. She was going to get this son-of-a-bitch. Beat him at his own game. She strode towards the lead detective’s office with the reports in her hand.

  Ernie March was sitting behind his desk when Briah knocked on his door casing. He looked up and smiled. He thought Briah was a find. He loved Dina and she was a great secretary, but Briah had something indescribable. Her light burned so brightly you were inescapably drawn to it. “Hey, Briah, what’s up?”

  “Am I disturbing you?”

  “Don’t worry about it, I could use the distraction,” he said smiling. Briah walked in and sat down. She placed the reports on his desk.

  “I was transcribing the notes on these reports. They’re the ones about the elderly people that are having their money taken.”

  “Yeah, I know what you’re saying.”

  “Well, I think I may have found something similar about them. I don’t know if it means anything, but I thought I would ask.”

  “Continue, I’m all ears!” he said sitting up in his chair. Briah went through the whole conversation with Mrs. Potter as well as the reports where the victims acknowledged placing the ads.

  “I don’t know if the other four placed ads. I just found this too analogous to not say anything,” she said bracing for him to dismiss her idea as ridiculous.

  “You just came up with this now? From transcribing the reports?”

  “Yes. Then I called Mrs. Potter to confirm.”

  “Holy shit! They say fresh eyes see clearer than tired ones. We’ve been working on this case for eight months. None of us thought of this angle,” he said staring at her with deep appreciation. “Clearly, Miss Spencer, you are not just another pretty face. I think we need to place an ad in the paper.”

  “I’ll get right on that, sir,” Briah said grinning from ear to ear. She stood, gathered her reports, and walked to the door.

  “Thank you, Briah. That was extremely well done,” he said. He was undoubtedly going to have to figure out a way to keep her.

  On Friday, of her third week in the office, Briah decided to join her co-workers for a drink at the bar down the street. When she worked for Dan, it was just the two of them, so being part of a large office was a new experience for her. Briah kept to herself, partly because she still feared Connor might find her, and partly because after him, she didn’t trust her judgment in choosing the right guy. She didn’t make friends easily, or have many of them in the first place.

  When Aiden looked up to see her walking in, he stilled. His fingers began to draw that same lazy circle on the tabletop. He could feel her skin and taste her essence. Torture…that was exactly what he was experiencing.

  She was a material witness in one of his most important cases. She was a co-worker. She was a fucking goddess. Yup…that was what she was. He closed his eyes to adjust his thinking process. After a second or two, he opened them and Briah was standing right in front of him. “Hi, Aiden. How are you?” she asked.

  “Good, Briah. How are you? I was told you’re doing a great job for the fraud guys. Not that the news was surprising,” he said stammering slightly.

  “I love the job, thanks again. How is Dan’s case coming?”

  “Slow, but we have some leads we’re working on. We’re going to get him. It just might take a little time. Thankfully, there isn’t a statute of limitations on murder.”

  “Good. I’m ready to testify. I’m suddenly very interested in the justice thing,” she said with a giggle. The charming sound of her laugh traveled through him, settling in an embarrassing spot. It was a very good thing he was sitting down.

  “You’ll get your chance. Until then, do try and keep a low profile,” he said as his fingers made the slow slide over the table. If someone had noticed the movement, they might think he was suffering some nervous malady.

  Not knowing what else to say that might keep her near him, she just smiled, turned, and walked to the table where the other women from her office were sitting.

  Aiden wasn’t cold or abrupt with her but he certainly wasn’t interested in her either. At least that was what Briah believed. His short yet respectful questions and answers told her that much. She’d thought his eyes were saying something else, but she must have been mistaken. She drank her glass of wine looking out the corner of her eye for any indication he might be watching her, but he never glanced her way.

  Aiden’s leg was bouncing under the table from the pent-up energy he couldn’t exhibit from the waist up. Why she had shown up at the bar? This was his bastion of relaxation after a hard week at the office. His portal to the normalcy of the weekend. He finished his beer an
d stood to leave.

  Aiden pointedly didn’t look in the direction of the table where Briah had sat. He simply waved his hand as he passed the co-workers and strode purposely towards the door to exit. Once outside, he took a deep cleansing breath, and headed to the parking lot on the side of the building.

  He stopped dead when he looked at his car and saw Briah had parked right next to it. Not only parked but also was now standing there searching through her purse. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered.

  Seeing no way around it, he walked over. “Lose something?” he asked.

  “My keys,” she said without looking up. “I have this big purse and everything sinks to the bottom. Yet when I fumble through it to the bottom, they’re not there. It’s the story of my life.”

  “Want me to try?” he found himself saying before he could clamp his mouth shut. Shaking his head, he thought ‘please, please, say no.’

  “Would you please? I’m freezing, standing here. These shoes aren’t very warm.” Naturally, that statement caused his eyes to start a slow descent down her body past her skirt to pause on those shapely legs, then continue to the four inch heels on her precious feet. A fleeting vision passed through his mind of those feet and shoes in the air. He mentally castigated himself for the thought.

  He grabbed the purse perhaps more aggressively than he would have ordinarily. He always felt that woman’s purses were a vast pit of vipers. A man should never, and I repeat never, look in one, much less investigate one.

  They usually resembled the junk drawer in his kitchen. The drawer where you might find everything from a lone AAA battery, to a wrench, to that rubber thing you use to loosen a jar top.

  “Are you sure you put them in here?” he questioned as he felt a tampon. His mind going right to the gutter thinking about the particular place the offending object was going to occupy. Again, he was beating himself up in his mind for the way his thoughts were heading. ‘Please God, help me find her damn keys before something bad happens.’

  With a last-ditch effort, he plunged his hand into the far corner and eureka, the keys were there! He pulled them out with a “Ta Da!” as he laughed. Briah grabbed the keys from his hand and wrapped her arms around his middle.

  “Thank you. I’m getting a smaller purse tomorrow,” she said holding on, enjoying the moment of contact. He closed his eyes in an attempt to gather his strength. He opened them as she looked up at him. Her eyes had a mischievous glisten to them. Her lips looked so sweet like the cherry pie filling he loved so much. With his resolve evaporating like rain from a car in the afternoon heat of summer, he bent his head and kissed her.

  Chapter Six

  They spent the weekend skiing. Aiden was a great skier. He’d learned as a child, as most of the kids in Colorado did. It was part of physical education class. He owned his own skis and still went a few times a year. None of that prepared him for Briah. She was a dynamo on the slopes.

  Because she rarely fell, she didn’t wear the usual Stay Puft Marshmallow Man outfit the other skiers wore. She had on a suit similar to the kind the ski-racers wore. It looked as if a very lucky artist had painted it on.

  When Aiden first saw her in it, he realized the whole day would be an exercise in trying to keep his hands to himself. He had already gone too far, keeping her held against him in the parking lot until he felt her teeth chattering under his lips. Her legs were red when she finally sat in her car. He was surprised she hadn’t slapped him and clattered off in her tiny heels.

  Standing in front of him now, in her white suit and bright red quilted vest, he wanted to pull her against him and explore her butt with his hands. He really liked exploring. It usually led to the planting of his flag, staking his claim, you get the picture.

  Aiden didn’t love easily or quickly. When it did happen, he loved deeply. Instinctively, he knew this woman was his nemesis, his open wound, and his Achilles heel. She was going to unravel him and he was going to like it.

  Briah, on the other hand, was ready for a committed relationship. She wanted what she had in the early years with Connor. She was older and wiser now. She knew the pitfalls and would avoid them, this time. She also felt she could trust Aiden with her heart.

  Briah taught Aiden a few things on the slopes. By the end of the first day, he was staying up with her and not falling as much. At the end of the second day, he had fallen into something far more dangerous than the snow.

  In an effort to keep work professional, and their budding relationship between them, they agreed not to see each other at work. No texts or phone calls. No meeting outside the bathrooms or conference rooms for a quick kiss. If they went to the bar on Fridays, it would be for one glass of beer or wine and leave. No protracted glances, no blowing air kisses, no nothing.

  A defense attorney could make something out of them dating. How would it look that the lead detective on a huge case just happens to be the boyfriend of the only eyewitness? The district attorney would kill the two of them. That and months of Aiden’s work would be down the tubes.

  They went to dinner in Golden, which just so happened to be the home of Coors Beer company, Aiden’s favorite, and the Unsinkable Molly Brown, Briah’s favorite story of the Titanic. They watched movies at each other’s apartments and they skied.

  A month after their parking-lot kiss, the pin that Aiden had given Jeanette Slater suddenly activated. His phone vibrated in its holder. He took it out expecting that a text was coming in. Instead, it read ‘911’ the code he had programmed into the device. Jumping out of his seat he yelled in Pete’s direction,” It’s Mrs. S’s smoke signal! Get the troops and meet me there.”

  He drove like a mad man, running lights and speeding. He got to the Safeway and ran in through the back door just as he had done every Thursday for weeks.

  Aiden almost ran right into her as she stood in front of the door to the ladies’ room. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?” he spit out, trying to slow his heart that threatened to jump through his shirt.

  “I’m fine. Actually, more than fine. I was dusting one of the bookcases in the family room this morning. I moved some books to dust the sides and this came out with them,” she said handing him a small digital voice recorder. “I checked it and it still has the whole thing on it plus an extra feature at the end.

  “I stuffed it in my bra and thought I would dust some more and see if he had hidden anything else in there. Sure enough, two shelves, down I found this,” she said taking a handgun out of her purse. Aiden stilled. He took a pair of gloves out of his pocket and hastily put them on, and then he reached for the gun.

  In his hands, he held a beautiful Colt 1911 .45. He checked the chamber and then looked to see if it was loaded. It was and seemed to be missing two bullets. This was the same type of gun that the medical examiner felt killed Dan. If the bullets matched, they had the murder weapon.

  “Did anyone see you take this?”

  “No one.”

  “Were you followed here?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t care anymore. I refuse to play the role of the victim here. I’m going to testify to everything I know. If I die, it will be with no regrets. I’m doing the right thing. So keep me alive so I can testify,” she said placing her hand in Aiden’s.

  “What about your kids?”

  “My two sons are being groomed to take over the family business. He’s been turning them against me little by little for several years. David Jr. is seventeen and already exhibiting his father’s mentality. Casey is fifteen, but he too, yells and throws things. Maybe with their father out of the picture they can change. If not, what will be, will be,” she said sadly.

  “Okay, if you’re ready, come with me,” he said extending his hand to her. She looked from his hand to his face and then placed her hand in his and smiled.

  “I feel better right now than I have felt in a very long time.”

  “I sincerely hope that never changes,” Aiden murmured.

  Briah was having a good day as well.
She watched as her detectives brought one Kyle Washington into the office in handcuffs. It seems that Mr. Washington had responded to a newspaper ad about a car for sale. After feigning interest in the car he had asked for banking information to do a direct deposit to pay for the car. He was going to send someone to pick it up in a day or two but didn’t trust them with his cash.

  The information given to him was for a dummy account the police had set up for just this occasion. It only had fifteen dollars in it but the pond scum even took that.

  After receiving a wink from Ernie as he took Kyle into the interrogation room, Briah sat back in her chair with a self-satisfied grin on her face. Right now, there was no better feeling in the world than how she felt. She didn’t know if the victims would get all or even some of their money back, but at least now Kyle wasn’t going to hurt anyone else.

  It took two days for the ballistics report to come back. When it did, Aiden called the assistant district attorney Blain Kurtz. Two hours later Aiden and Pete walked into Blain’s office and took a confident seat in the chairs opposite him. “By the looks on the two of your faces, I think I’m going to have a good day,” he said smiling.

  “I could be wrong, but I think you might call this a good week,” Pete said, nodding.

  “Give me a break man, this is going to make his month,” Aiden teased.

  “Cut the chit-chat and tell me!” Blain yelled.

  “Mrs. S. came through with everything we asked her to,” Aiden said handing Blain a folder and the digital recorder. “The report on top is ballistics on the gun she found. It matches the bullets the ME took out of him. The recorder has the entire scene on it. Everything, Blain.”

  “Where is she?”

  “I stashed her in Aspen at Aaron’s house with a team of Feds. They want to work on racketeering, prostitution, money laundering, and the usual. My job is done, we got the guy. Just tell me I can go and pick him up.”

  “Go and pick him up. Do not so much as scratch him with your finger nail when you cuff him, hear me?”