by Curry, Edna
I made a face. “I was afraid of that.”
“Irene is getting smarter, though. She’d already called 9-1-1 when I got there. I don’t think she’s going to be the same doormat she was before.”
“That’s good. More tea?” He nodded and I refilled our cups.
“So how’d the safe problem go?”
I shrugged my shoulder. “I got it working again, for now. I don’t think Ted is ever going to break down and spend the money for a new safe until it won’t work at all anymore.”
“He’s a tightwad, all right.”
“What’s new with you?”
Chance grimaced. “I spent most of the day hunting up pawn shops, looking for John’s Rolex.”
“Any luck?”
“Cassie, you know I’m not supposed to tell you about an open case.”
I smiled at him seductively. “And you know I never repeat anything you tell me.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, I finally found John’s Rolex. But it may be a dead end. Whoever took it from John got a homeless man to sell it to the pawn shop with a plausible cover story. We’ll try to track him down to try to find out who gave it to him to sell, but I’m not very optimistic.”
“That’s too bad. But at least June will get the watch back?”
“Yes. After we hold it for evidence in case of a trial.”
“You have no doubt it’s John’s watch, though?”
“No. It’s engraved with his name.”
“Really? The thief hadn’t even tried to remove the engraving?”
“No. The homeless guy said that was his father’s name and he’d inherited the watch, but needed the money, so had to sell it.”
We cleared away the dishes and started the dishwasher.
I poured us each a glass of wine and we settled down on my sofa to watch the movie. Soon we spent more time kissing and making out than watching the screen and Chance picked me up and carried me off to my bed, where we could continue more comfortably, minus our clothes.
***
In the meantime, Lou Bales sat in the local bar, commiserating with some buddies. Life had gotten more complicated since the new owners took over their bank. He felt his life was slipping out of control. He had been a big shot before as one of the partners. Now he was only an employee and had to answer to a boss. That didn’t go over well for a middle aged man used to being in charge of others.
But what could he do? He should have kept a closer eye on what John was doing. Those bad loans were to blame for all of this.
“Bartender! Another double! And one for my friend, here,” he yelled and threw an arm around the buxom blonde who’d been trying to get his attention.
“Ready to play, big guy?” she purred in his ear. “Let’s go back to my place. It’s not very far from here.”
“Sure, honey. Whatever you say. Drink up, then.” He threw some bills on the counter for their drinks and downed his drink in a few swallows.
She grinned and drank hers, then took his hand and led him outside.
***
Melanie Bales was more than a little teed off. Lou hadn’t come home from work for the third night in a row. When she’d called, she’d gotten his voicemail. So, she’d called the bar where he usually stopped after work. The bartender said he’d been there, but had left a while ago.
“Alone?” she’d asked.
“I…I really didn’t notice, Ma’am,” he hedged and hung up.
She hung up the phone and muttered, “So, he picked up another hussy, did he? Well, what is sauce for the gander is sauce for the goose as well.”
Looking out her back window, she saw a light still on in the gardener’s cottage. She headed down the well-worn path to his place.
Carl grinned widely when he opened his door to find her there.
“Lou’s busy in town playing, so we might as well have a little fun, too,” she told him.
Carl closed and locked the door. She was already busy unbuttoning his shirt. “Hey, I just finished supper. I haven’t had time for a shower, yet. I’m all sweaty,” he objected.
“Then I’ll have to wash you first,” she purred, backing him toward his bedroom.
Soon they were both naked and under the hot spray in the shower. Then, he picked her up and impaled her on his huge erection, pressing himself into her against the wall of the shower. Biting her nipples and suckling them in turn, he pounded into her until both were screaming out their release.
Then they rinsed off, shut off the water and grabbed towels to dry themselves. In his bed they started over, teasing and tasting until both had come over and over.
***
When Lou came home, his wife’s car was there but Melanie wasn’t. He had a pretty good idea where she was. He marched down to Carl’s cottage, ready to pound the man silly.
Then he decided to cool it, and merely peeked into the bedroom window instead. He watched as Melanie gave Carl a blowjob, then Carl turned her around and licked her clit until she was screaming and coming as well.
Damn it, she hardly did that for him anymore, Lou thought angrily. He ought to fire the guy. But firing Carl was too good for him. And Melanie would probably slip him money to pay for an apartment nearby and they’d keep on having fun anyway. No, he had to think of a better solution.
He slipped back to the house and went to bed, pretending to be asleep when Melanie came in a while later and climbed in beside him.
Chapter 8
The next day, Chance and Ben attended John’s funeral. The church was full and quite a few people went to the cemetery as well.
“See anything unusual?” Ben asked as they blocked traffic for the funeral procession to enter the cemetery.
“No. The usual townspeople. And John’s relatives. More local people came for June, I think, than for John. Most of the women seem to really like her and Irene. I heard they work together at the church.”
“Yeah. By the way, I finally got that list of bad loans John had made from the new bank. They were sticklers about red tape.”
“Good. I’ll see if I can find a lead or two there.”
***
Chance spent hours at his computer, finding most of the bad loans had been made to various corporations rather than to individuals. It would take time to track down the people behind each corporate name.
He drove out to the edge of town where most of the failed loans seemed to have originated. It was a new development. A dozen half-built abandoned homes sat in the middle of black dirt yards, with planks strewn about for workers to use. The new roads had street signs on the corners, and curb and gutters were in place. Still the whole area seemed sad. There were no cars or people around to give it a lived in feeling.
A FOR SALE sign with a phone number stood in one front yard. Chance rang the number, and got a woman at the bank.
After he identified himself, he asked, “I was wondering what’s up with that new development?”
“I’ll connect you with the loan officer,” she said.
“Jim Banley here,” a man’s deep voice said.
“This is Detective Chance Martin with the County Sheriff’s office,” he said. “I’m wondering what’s happening with the new development on the east edge of Canton?”
“Nothing, really. Are you interested in buying a house?”
“No, just investigating John Wattmore’s murder. I understand he made the loans to the developer?”
“Yeah. That was a bad deal. The builder had big ideas and they might have worked out, too, if the housing boom hadn’t ended right when he was getting started. People panicked and stopped buying, practically overnight. Left the bank holding the bag.”
“So you guys ended up with the properties?”
“Sure. People will buy houses again and we’ll get our money back, maybe even make a few dollars. Why are you so interested in all this?”
Chance said, “Since John was the loan officer, I’m wondering if the properties had anything to do with his being killed.”
&
nbsp; Jim laughed. “I know people kill for stupid reasons, detective, but I doubt anyone would murder John for making a loan. It’s not his fault the housing market tanked. How would killing him benefit anybody?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Chance said, once more discouraged. “If you think of anything that would help, give me a call, okay?”
“Sure thing,” Jim said. “Give me your number.”
***
Back in his office, spending more hours on his computer made Chance grouchy and tired. He tried every angle he could think of to find out if Melanie had really inherited any money.
He’d tried asking Lou and Melanie directly for her relatives’ name, but they’d refused to answer, saying their finances had nothing to do with John’s murder, so were off limits. And his gut hunch was not enough evidence to get a judge to issue him permission to investigate further.
Finally, he thought of asking June and Irene if they knew who Melanie’s parents were and called them. She said she didn’t know, had never been close enough to hear that kind of detail about Melanie. Though June was quite sure Melanie had been married before.
Irene thought she’d heard once the money had come from a bachelor uncle in Las Vegas, but didn’t know his name.
Chance went through marriage license information until he had a headache.
But he found their license and her former name. And hit pay-dirt. Her middle name, Benson, was unusual for a woman’s name. Had she used her maiden name as her middle name? He searched that and found her original driver’s license, which led him to her birth certificate and her parents’ names, Paul and Martha Benson.
Then he searched recent obituaries of anyone with that last name in Nevada. And found none. Which didn’t prove anything, of course. Melanie’s uncle could also have been her mother’s brother and thus have a different name. Or the man might not have had any relatives or anyone who bothered to publish an obituary. Some people were like that. Or he could have lived elsewhere through most of his life and been returned to that former home for burial. It was too common a name for him to search the whole country. He needed more information to narrow down his search.
***
Ben stuck his head in Chance’s office and said, “Hey, it’s past quitting time. Didn’t you tell me it was Cassie’s birthday and you had a date tonight?”
Chance glanced at his watch and said, “Yeah. Thanks, Ben. Guess I got too wrapped up in the computer to notice the time.”
“Finding anything?”
“Not much. I’m still trying to track down the suspicion that Melanie didn’t really inherit money like she claims.” He shut down his computer and grabbed his jacket.
As they walked to their cars, Ben said, “But Lou claims the money was hers, not his. Could he be covering up something?”
“Maybe he siphoned off the money from the bank, you mean?”
“Stranger things have happened.”
“Yeah, but those investigators should have found it if that was the case. I’d think they’d be onto most banking tricks.”
Ben scratched his head. “You’d think so. Well, I’m heading home. Tom’s got night dispatch duty. See you tomorrow.”
“’Night, Ben.”
***
Cassie dressed with care for her date with Chance. She’d even bought a new rose-colored dress with a flared skirt, hoping they’d get a chance to do a little dancing. She hadn’t been dancing for a while.
An hour later Chance and Cassie sat in their favorite restaurant, eating shrimp dinners.
“This is great, Chance. I haven’t had deep fried jumbo shrimp for ages.”
“Me, either. But your birthday’s a good time to splurge, isn’t it? Happy birthday.” He pulled a small silver wrapped package from his pocket and handed it to her. A nervous tick jumped in his cheek and he put up a hand to cover it as she opened the little box. Would she like it?
“Oh, it’s gorgeous, Chance. I love it.” She ran the gold chain of the lovely sapphire necklace over her fingers, then looked up and smiled, her hazel eyes bright with delight.
“Lean over here and I’ll put it on you.” Relieved at seeing her pleasure, he took the necklace from her hands and fastened it behind her neck. She turned to show him how it fell perfectly below the hollow in her throat. He swallowed at the sight and his groin tightened. He couldn’t wait to get her alone and taste that spot.
“You’re a sweetheart, Chance,” she said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“There’s a live band at the Dalles House tonight,” Cassie said. “We haven’t danced much lately.”
“Sounds good,” Chance agreed. The thought of holding her in his arms and swaying to music was suddenly very appealing.
They spent a couple hours dancing, then headed to her house. He parked behind her van and frowned. “It’s really dark tonight. Didn’t you leave your outside light on?”
“It’s supposed to come on at dusk automatically. The bulb must be burned out,” Cassie replied. “I’ll buy a new one tomorrow.”
They walked arm in arm to her door. The night had turned cool and the wind had picked up a bit, too. He felt her shiver as she dug in her purse for her keys.
Crrrraaaaack! Wood splintered on the doorway beside them.
“Get down!” Chance yelled, shoving her down and dropping over her. He swung around, trying to see where the shooter was. “Damn, my gun’s in my car.”
A dark car roared away from a parking place across the street. “He’s gone. Get inside, lock the door, don’t turn on the lights and stay away from the windows, out of sight. I’m going after him.”
“Oh, God. Please be careful, Chance, and call for back-up,” she shouted after him.
“Of course,” he yelled as he raced for his car and got in. He looked back to make sure Cassie was inside, then sped after the car.
As he drove, he called Ben and told the sheriff what had happened. Ben promised to be there in a few minutes.
But the car had disappeared. Chance drove around a while, looking for anywhere he might have hidden, then gave up and went back to check on Cassie.
Ben’s car was there and he and Cassie were standing on the stoop, examining the bullet hole in her doorway.
“Find anything?” Ben asked.
“Nope. It was too dark to get a good look to identify the car.”
“That’s what Cassie said, too,” Ben agreed.
“I’ll check with the neighbors.” Using a powerful flashlight, Chance checked out the parking area where he’d seen the dark car pull out. He could see Cassie’s house plainly from that vantage point. Cars were parked in front of houses all along there, so it was no wonder they hadn’t noticed the shooter’s car.
Something glinted in the glow of his flashlight. Looking closer, he saw a casing. He pulled an evidence bag from his pocket and used a stick to push it inside. Looked like it might be from a .45 caliber pistol.
He knocked on doors nearby, hoping to find someone who’d heard the shots fired, or saw anything unusual, but no one had.
He went back to Cassie’s house. Remembering her outside light had been out, he checked it. Sure enough, the bulb had been broken. Slipping on his gloves, he carefully unscrewed the remainder of the bulb and took it inside with him, showing Ben who was sitting with Cassie at her kitchen table, drinking coffee.
“Anyone see or hear anything?” Ben asked.
“Nobody claims to have heard anything,” Chance said, “but I found a casing where the car was parked across the street.” He pulled out the bag and laid it and the broken bulb in front of Ben.
“Hm, looks like a .45, just like the bullet.”
Chance poured himself some coffee and dropped into a chair opposite Cassie, glancing at her. “That broken bulb is why your outside light wasn’t on. It looks like someone has it in for you again.”
Ben turned to him, his brows dipping. “What makes you say that?”
“Isn’t it obvious? It’
s her house and she was standing there by the door.”
“And you were beside her. He could just as easily have been aiming at you.”
“I suppose,” Chance said, rubbing his chin. But he wasn’t taking any chances. He’d check out what Cassie had been up to lately. She was always getting in hot water, it seemed to him.
“I’ve got some pictures and I’ll send the casing and this bullet in to the lab,” Ben said. “But I’m afraid the bullet’s pretty smashed. May not be much they can learn from it.”
***
Ben said goodnight and left. Chance stayed with Cassie. He wasn’t leaving her alone in case that nut returned.
“Want some more coffee?” she asked. “It’s decaf.”
“Sure.” Was she going to pretend getting shot at was no big deal? His stomach clenched with the effort not to yell at her to be more careful. But he knew that would only make her stubborn streak pop out. Swallowing hard and telling himself to play this cool, he sat on the sofa and surfed the channels while she went back to the kitchen. She brought it and set the tray on the coffee table, then poured them each a cup.
Chance picked up the cup and sipped, eyeing Cassie over the rim. “Tell me what you’ve been up to?”
“Huh?” Cassie drank more coffee and stared at him curiously. “What do you mean, what I’ve been up to? Just various jobs, same as always.”
“Nothing unusual? Weird, maybe?” He swallowed more coffee.
“No. Nothing out of the ordinary. Well, except Irene’s nutty husband. Why?”
“Why is the question, Cassie. Why did someone shoot at you tonight?” He frowned.
“How do you know they were shooting at me? Maybe you were the target, like Ben said.”
He shook his head. “They were waiting for you to come home. Who would know I would be with you?”
Cassie laughed. “The small town grapevine knows you and I have been seen together lately. Anyone could have heard that and assumed if I wasn’t home and my van was, I was probably out with you.”
“I suppose. But give me a list of everyone you’ve worked for lately anyway. I want to check them out.”