by Kieran York
“He’s busy all the time because he’s honest and good. I’m sure he gets in trouble with his wife for being so busy. I’m thinking since he has a grandchild now, maybe he’ll slow down. That’s what I like about being a prospector and miner. I’m on my own time.”
“Take it easy, and you and Gus take care.”
“Sure will. Hey, Sheriff, I’m going to be setting up my sluice outfit downtown near the creek outside behind the Timber Garage in a couple days. A promotion for interesting folks in mining. Bring your kids over and they can pan a little gold.”
Royce grinned. “I might just do that, Wyatt. And thanks again.”
After Royce had driven back into Timber, she vowed, “We’re going to find these people. We are.”
Gwen inquired impatiently, “And what did you mean, it wasn’t a waste of time?”
Royce explained, “It answered a question. An important question. Why we haven’t been able to get any information on her.”
“Why?”
“Gwen, we were looking for a woman in her twenties. Wyatt was convinced it was a younger girl.”
Gwen grimaced. “Hell’s bells, a lot of young girls dress themselves up. They look and act thirty. Look at the way models advance their age with paint. But maybe there’s something wrong with Wyatt’s eyes.”
Royce parked in front of the newspaper office and Gwen got out. “There’s nothing wrong with his eyesight Gwen. He searches out flecks of gold in the bottom of a miner’s pan.”
“And why does that answer a question?”
“Gwen, if this suspect is under eighteen, she may have committed dozens of crimes. When she turned eighteen, most of her files would have been expunged. Her rap sheet, her fingerprints, and her DNA. Hence, nothing at all that would help us. All juvenile files might have been removed. It depends on where she’s from. But I’m betting that she’s flying under the radar.”
Royce finished up the evening with office work. She’d arrived home, and spent time with her family. Her mind was still retracing the day’s events. Even when she and Hertha cuddled into bed for the night, Royce’s thoughts continued to spin.
Royce had ordered the undercover autos and deputies for their surveillance duty up on Wyatt’s mountain area. If the suspects were there, they would make a mistake.
So far, they’d made a few mistakes, but recovered from them.
Royce realized that the suspect duo had made one more recovery. A call from the Sheriff’s Department caught her still awake. There had been a car theft from the Crystal Lodge. A white, non-descript Honda was lifted. One exactly like every other vehicle in Crystal. And several missing license plates were reported in the area that evening. Then later in the night, the blue Dodge Challenger was lit on fire, and shoved from a remote cliff. No witnesses, nothing was left behind other than the clandestine checkmate sent by the suspects.
The suspects were teasing Royce. How better to locate prey than to make it a competition. And to enrage the enemy.
Angrily, Royce was talked out of going to the scene where the Dodge met its doom. Sam took the call and insisted Royce wait until morning to inspect the latest crime site. He wisely suggested that he and a number of deputies would go to the burning auto, and they would secure the area. The morning would be time enough to inventory it. For now, they knew who had taken the car there. And who had lit it up. There were no passengers, no victims. And in the morning, Sam argued, there would be light, and time to peruse the burnt-to-a-cinder Dodge Challenger.
Royce and Hertha retired to their bedroom. The sheriff glanced out the window. The deputy was stationed in his squad car, obviously with protective procedures in place. The sheriff clamped her jaw, and her eyes burned. She was being incarcerated by fear. She was being defended, by being jailed. Her imprisonment confined her spirit. And the sheriff was finding it difficult to conduct the investigation with a less than emboldened vivacity.
The problem with hunting someone, and being hunted, had one commonality. The world was filled with hiding places.
Chapter 16
In the early hours of the morning, the fire-fighting department had doused the smoldering auto. Royce arrived early, and watched as Forensics carefully inspected and investigated the crime. The car’s hull was a cinder. No traceable evidence.
Terry gave a whistle of discouragement. “The killer must think cliffs are some kind of Colorado disposal system. All evidence must be pitched off a cliff.”
“Terry, I want all those endangered, my family and Nick’s family, to be guarded. Anyone in jeopardy or endangered. But from here on, I’m not going to be using a bodyguard when I work. This is my town.”
“Come on, Royce!” Terry’s expression was one that told Royce she expected this response, just not this soon. “This guy has signed your death warrant, Royce.”
“Contract killers have the advantage of hitting at any time. I know that he can execute that death warrant at any moment. If you, or another deputy is guarding me, he can shoot both of us as easily as just me.”
“None of your deputies are intimidated by that.”
“And I’m not intimidated by a crazed criminal that’s been in prisons more than he’s been free. We both know he’s being funded by Sumner.”
“The correctional institution will be eavesdropping. They’ll double-down on surveilling him. Sumner has a slight window to ever being released. Once the charges of hiring a murder, conspiracy to commit, and all the other unlawful offenses come out, his chances of freedom evaporate.”
“Sumner won’t quit until his money is gone. Or he’s killed me, or he dies.” Royce swallowed. “I’d expected retribution when he was originally sentenced and incarcerated.”
“What can I do to make it easier for you?”
“I’m going to Denver today. I’ll need to get one of our unmarked cars. I’ve got an appointment with the rehabilitation center that Nick will be entering in a couple days. If the doctors feel he’s ready. They do want to get his rehab started as quickly as possible. I need to see that the paperwork, and all the arrangements are made clandestinely. So, what you and Sam can do for me is cover the offices. Make certain everything is in place.”
“Will do. Sheriff, I heard about the sighting off Gold Dust Road. That’s built up as a pretty ritzy subdivision in the last couple years.”
“We’ve posted notices, Mimic Maiden, and all the information we have. Chris Wyatt is making it his mission to scout the area. My guess is that when we searched the area, the culprits sent a message back to us. They’ve dumped and flamed their car. Or someone’s car. Stolen vehicles are used in most high-end crime.” Royce pointed to the charred form of the Dodge. “I’m thinking they’ve already relocated.”
“We’re pretty much ghost chasing. With his identity concealed, he’s invisible.”
Royce agreed. “And if they’re still in the vicinity, I want to do some ghost busting. Terry, I agree that his disguise is illusionary. He’s in no one’s vision, and everyone wearing a badge is in his sight.” The sheriff was admittedly frustrated.
***
The trip to Denver was a drive that destressed Royce. Her mind was free to allow the loveliness of the land to assist her thoughts. She found that by the time she arrived at the rehabilitation center, she’d mentally planned the day. Royce checked everything out, and made the arrangements for Nick’s stay. Royce had plotted a ruse. When ready, Nick would be secreted away in the ambulance. The hospital would continue guarding vigilantly, as if Nick were still there in Crystal General Hospital. How long they could keep the transport to the rehab center a secret concerned luck. But Nick would have Denver Police guarding him. Bev would be with him, and also be protected.
As soon as the schedule at the rehab center was fully approved, Royce checked back in with her office. Sam agreed that the ghost duo was probably relocating, but not leaving. “Royce, the folks up here are doing their best. We’re getting tips. They just aren’t panning out.”
“Let’s just keep poun
ding away,” Royce instructed.
“Oh, by the way, Forensics said to tell you that the mystery couple could make good money as professional cleaners. They tidy up the scenes.”
“Mimic Maiden did leave dirty tracks when she went to the Drop-On Buy. Look, could you do me a favor and ask if Forensics can check her prints and DNA on whatever juvenile enforcement might provide them. State by state, some do and some don’t. According to Wyatt, the woman wasn’t in her twenties. He claimed she was a girl in her mid-teens.”
“I’ll let them know. And if I get a minute, I’ll check it out myself.”
Royce chuckled. “Sam, I know you’re a computer whiz kid, but it may be a very time- consuming job.”
“I’ve got my methods,” he replied with a snicker.
“If you find anything of interest, have Wyatt take a gander at any of our mugshots. If you’re busy, just ask if he would mind dropping by the office. He’s eager to help, and tell him I appreciate his assistance.”
“Will do. What time are you coming back?” Sam asked.
“I have something more things to do, then I’ll be returning. Possibly early evening.”
“Sheriff, we want you returning to Timber safely, so watch your back. Remember, Timber is in the Colorado Guide books as the best one-day trip out of Denver.”
Royce turned off the arterial avenue taking her to Lakewood. She stopped in a shopping center. After careful examination of the cars and people, she sat back and opened the file.
Gregory Corby. She began to reread everything that she’d printed off about the life of this man. She went back over the questions she needed to ask him. She determined that in ten minutes she would be meeting Hertha’s procreator. Her father.
***
Out of uniform, Royce had removed her ID card that was on a chain around her neck. She stuck it into her pocket. She didn’t intend on intimidating Greg Corby. He would probably claim he didn’t remember that night. Any sign of the authority of the law would probably exacerbate his memory loss.
When the door opened, she looked into his face. That recognized feature on his face was both a greeting, and a question. The same look Hertha had when she greeted her patients. He was tall, and Hertha had his height. Her mother was short. At fifty-eight, Corby was trim, yet not exercised. His face of youth had become weathered. Hair, graying at the sides of his temples, was neatly combed and clipped. His eyes were light blue, and didn’t in any way seem threatening, or angry. The daughter he didn’t know about had inherited his eyes. Hertha’s golden colored eyes were the mixture of her mother’s bronze eyes, and her father’s light blue eyes. And the expression startled Royce.
“I’m Royce Madison,” she introduced herself. “I’d like a few minutes to talk with you, Mr. Corby.”
“Have we met?” He seemed bewildered.
“I’m here representing someone else. And it’s important that I talk with you about something in the past.”
Then he stepped back, opening the door. “Forgive my manners. Come in and have a seat.” As he moved, Royce noticed the man change his cane from one hand to the other. He was indeed lame, and he was the rapist that Hertha’s mother had said treated her less harshly. Royce felt unhappiness.
Royce sat opposite Corby. “Mr. Corby, Hertha White asked me to talk with you.”
“I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“I’m sorry for delivering shocking news. She’s your daughter. Nearly forty years ago, her mother was raped by three men. It was on the outer limits of the Ute Reservation.” Royce observed his face flushing. She also examined the change in his appearance. His lips bobbed, and his eyes expressed humiliation. It appeared that his body was collapsing in on itself. “Do you remember that night?”
Stunned, he dug his long, thin fingers into his face. A low, moaning sob came from his throat. “I have thought of that night every day of my life since it happened.” Drizzling tears escaped as if they’d been building up for years. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know about a…a child.”
“She’s now a successful woman. She’s just slightly over forty. She has two children – they were her brother’s children. When he died, Hertha adopted them. She recently was on a DNA heritage site, and found you. She found that your daughter was her half-sister. She is angry that you and the other men have gotten away with this crime for all these years.”
“She wants money?”
“She wants you three men incarcerated.”
Shock blanched his face. “She wants justice,” he whispered. He watched as Royce opened her pocket notebook and took out her pen. “Miss Madison, I understand that your friend wants retribution.”
Royce gazed up. “First of all, it’s Sheriff Madison. Secondly, we are friends, but we are also in a nearly twenty-year relationship. I’m very heavily invested in this crime.”
“I see.”
“You probably don’t see it in its entirety. Hertha is a small-town veterinarian. She is respected for being a loving, giving part of our community. She is the kindest person I’ve ever known. She’s beloved.”
“And she wants me to be jailed, and I understand that. Are you arresting me now?”
“No. I’m fact-gathering for an investigation. I’d like the names of your accomplices?”
“My cousin, he was two years older than I was. I’d just turned eighteen. His name was Eddy, Edgar Corby. Eddy died of cancer when he was thirty. And he had an older friend named Milton Odell. Milt Odell is in prison for life. Murder.” Corby looked away. “I guess I’m the only available criminal. And you have my confession. And Hertha has my apology. I’m sorry that I’ve hurt her, and harmed her mother. No woman deserves that.”
“And no man deserves to elude justice from having committed a crime against a woman.”
***
The event had seemed awkward. Corby, in his bungalow style home, was a man whose face told that he had been waiting his entire adult life for his crimes to be exposed. For his humiliation. His life was now being hammered.
His home was well-kept, with gardens tended. His living room was tidy, and included photos, awards for his work, and an assortment of figurines, mostly of animals. Royce found it interesting that she’d heard dogs in the backyard, and there were water bowls and two dog beds. Hertha had obviously had an infusion of loving animals from both of her parents.
Before Royce had even driven out of the area, she’d stopped at a pancake house. She wanted to make notes to put in her file. And she hadn’t eaten since morning, nor had she taken her morning quota of coffee. She had just arrived at the restaurant when her phone rang.
“Sheriff Madison,” she answered.
“Sheriff, I’m Diane McGill. You’ve just been to see my father. I’ve got to talk with you. He didn’t seem to be making any sense.”
“Diane, I know it must be a shock…”
“Let’s meet for coffee or tea. I don’t want to go home yet, until I’ve got the story.”
“I’ve just been seated at the pancake house on Sheridan. Can you come here?”
“Yes. Yes. I’m a teacher, and I checked out of school for the day. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
As Royce waited, she attempted to decipher the tone of Diane McGill’s voice. Certainly shock, and some defiance surfaced. When Diane arrived, Royce was taken aback. There were facial similarities to Hertha. But Diane’s complexion and coloring were lighter, and her hair blonde. She was pretty, and slightly plump. She waved, making certain she was going to the correct booth.
Coffee was set down in front of Royce. She asked, “And would you bring another cup, please.” She said to Diane, “Would you like coffee or tea? I’ve also ordered some breakfast.”
“I had an early lunch hour, so I’ve eaten. But coffee would be fine.” She sat across from Royce. “When Dad called, I knew it was an emergency,” she rushed her words. “He never calls me. There must be a mistake,” she defended. “My father has never harmed anyone in his life. Is this some kind of scam?”
“I’m sure this is a shock to you, Diane. There’s no good time to find this out. I assure you Hertha has thought it through. As soon as she found the DNA match, she began searching.”
“Maybe it got mixed up.”
“Earlier your father confessed to being one of the rapists.”
“He only told me that he can’t talk about it now. He said later. I need to know.”
“Diane, it was forty years ago. Hertha’s mother was walking home at night, and three men in a car attacked her and sexually assaulted her. Raped her. She lived on the reservation, so nothing was done. She was fourteen, and very quiet, so I’m not sure she told authorities. But we believe that it had been reported. However, the DNA tie, and your father’s confession confirm that it happened.”
“Does this woman want payment? My father’s not wealthy. His money went to our educations. Mom had a lot of hospital bills when she died last year. He has the house, and that’s it. But if you want money, we’ll get it somehow.”
“Hertha’s mother died two years ago. And Hertha is financial well-off. She wants nothing as far as financial reparation. She just wants justice for her mother.” Royce paused, then asked, “You mentioned ‘our’ education. I thought you were an only child.”
“No. My older brother was in the military. Dad had wanted to be in the military, but he’d had the foot and leg injury when he was a child. My brother was in the military because he always said Dad had wanted to be.”
“Your brother?”
“Yes, he was killed overseas when an explosion detonated. It was over ten years ago, when he was twenty-five.”
“I’m sorry, Diane.”
“I just remembered, Dad always said that God took his son for Dad’s sins.” Her eyes shut tightly. “I never knew my dad had ever done anything that could be a sin. He’s always been so honorable.”
“Hertha’s mother said that the three men had been drinking.”