“Photos from the Harvest Festival too?”
“You got it.”
“Jazmin was right. That woman really is crazy.”
When the traffic passed, Anna and Liz dashed across the street and backtracked to the Buffalo. Liz went inside for a coffee refill as Anna walked around the back of the café to pick up Jackson, who was laying contentedly in the sun with Suka. The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that both Maddy and Paul had planned their performances today. Paul had appealed to her sympathy in hopes she would keep his identity a secret. And Maddy? She didn’t just happen to be driving by the Buffalo as she and Liz were leaving. “Something else that’s not a coincidence, Jackson,” she said, hooking her dog’s leash to his collar. “Both of them pointed the finger at Zoey. Strange, huh? Come on, boy.”
On the sidewalk in front of the Buffalo, Liz sipped another latte while Anna called Clovis, letting the phone ring a dozen times before giving up. Anna searched for Esther’s number, and finding only a Henry Vance in the directory, she called him. Esther picked up.
Henry was her husband’s name, Esther said. Now that she lived alone, she felt safer using his name in the directory. Anna told her she understood, that she too was listed under her husband’s name, and then she told her about Maddy taking her to see the sigil. Then Anna listened as Esther explained that she’d been downtown with Zoey. They had gone to the bank, she said. Esther had signed her house over to Zoey, and Zoey, who had paid cash for the house, now owned it free and clear.
Not wanting to add to Esther’s troubles, Anna congratulated her. Her money worries were over, she could relax and enjoy her house. She hung up and walked Jackson to the Jimmy, on the way telling Liz about the house sale and trying to shrug off the gloomy feeling that threatened to overwhelm her. She had failed. Her purpose in taking on the genealogy job both Russell and Clovis had hired her for was so that Esther could keep her house. She was in her house, but the house was no longer hers, and Anna was afraid for her. She hoped Clovis would make good on her demand that Esther stay with her until the police solved the murders.
As Liz climbed into her seat, Anna gripped the steering wheel and made a silent pledge. Esther had lost her house, but she wasn’t going to lose her life. Not if she had anything to say about it. She put the key in the ignition and froze. “Emma Hollister.”
“What about her?”
“Esther knows now, doesn’t she? She knows Zoey is Emma. She signed the bank papers.”
“Sure, she’d have to know.”
“But when she told me about the signing, she didn’t say a word about Zoey being Emma.”
“She’s keeping Zoey’s secret and doesn’t realize you know?”
“Possibly. I wonder if she’ll tell Clovis. Those two are close.”
“I’m going to press my contacts this afternoon,” Liz said. “Let me see what I can find out about Zoey and the others by the time you and Gene come over tonight. You haven’t forgotten, have you?”
“No way. I’m looking forward to it. You think the guys would mind if we talk shop after dinner?”
“Dan’s used to it,” Liz said.
“Gene too.” Anna pulled behind a passenger truck and edged down Summit Avenue, slowed by a parade of zombies lumbering through a crosswalk, clambering over a car hood or two on their way.
“It’s a bit early for zombies, isn’t it?” Liz said.
“Halloween used to be one day,” Anna said. “Now it lasts the whole month.”
“What about Jackson tonight?” Liz asked, glancing over her shoulder at the back seat. “Are you bringing him?”
“Gene’s bringing Riley over when he picks me up, so we’ll leave them together at my house. I’ll light a fire in the wood stove before we leave.”
“Spoiled dogs.”
“And rightly so.”
“I’m so glad Jackson and Riley get along.”
“They adore each other.” Liz was at it again, Anna thought. Her next subject would be Gene.
“They watch the way you and Gene interact, that’s why.” Liz gave her nose a nervous scratch and took a sip of coffee. She had learned to tread gingerly on the subject of Gene, and for that, Anna felt responsible. It seemed to her that the argument they’d had last May was still fresh in Liz’s mind. But honestly, Liz had to be patient. Anyway, the decision was out of her hands. If she and Gene were to have a life together, he would have to be the one to signal its beginning.
Liz bent forward and looked intently out the windshield. “Is that Jazmin ahead? She looks miserable.”
“Where?” Anna let her foot off the gas pedal and searched the sidewalk.
“A block up on your right, coming this way.”
Her arms wrapped tightly about her chest, Jazmin hurried down Summit in the direction of Buckhorn’s. She looked straight ahead, her eyes fixed like lasers on the sidewalk just in front of her feet.
“She’s freezing,” Anna said. “Where’s her jacket?”
“Something’s wrong,” Liz said.
Anna stopped the Jimmy and rolled down her window, calling to Jazmin until the girl paused and looked up. She was miserable. She wasn’t just cold—she’d been crying. Liz undid her seat belt and reached around to open the back door. Jazmin only moved when Anna made it clear she meant to ignore the car horns and calls of “Hey, lady” coming from a Jeep behind hers.
Jazmin pulled herself to the back seat and slammed the door shut, angrily rubbing her cheeks to remove any evidence of tears. For Jazmin, anger was better than pain, and she preferred to be thought of as sullen rather than vulnerable.
“Were you heading to Buckhorn’s?” Anna asked.
“It’s my half day,” Jazmin said.
Anna checked the Jimmy’s clock. Twelve thirty. Where had the day gone? “Where’s your jacket?”
“I don’t know,” Jazmin replied.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” There were days that Jazmin threatened to frustrate Anna beyond the limits of her patience, and this was one of those days. “You just bought a beautiful canvas jacket for fall and you don’t know where it is? Tell me where you left it and I’ll drive you there.”
“Stop the car!” Jazmin shouted, yanking at her door handle.
“Not in the middle of the road, for goodness’ sake!” Anna locked Jazmin’s door from her seat, found a parking space, and drove into it front end first.
“Now I have to walk all the way back there,” Jazmin said, throwing her thumb toward the west end of the avenue. She yanked on the handle again. “Open this!”
Anna threw an arm over the back of her seat and caught sight of Jackson cowering against the car door, trying to put space between himself and Jazmin. “It’s OK, boy,” she said. “Jazmin, I’ll drive you back there. I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”
Jazmin inhaled deeply and lightly brushed Jackson’s fur with her fingertips. “I’m sorry, Jackson, it’s OK.”
Anna hit the lock button and all four locks released with a snap. “I was afraid you’d jump out while I was driving.”
Jazmin looked up, her blue eyes glazed with tears. “Can you ever once talk to me without asking me questions or lecturing me?”
13
“Fantastic dinner, Liz,” Gene said, settling back in his chair and laying a hand on his stomach.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Liz said, her eyes lighting up when Dan concurred. She was unsure of her skills as a cook, though Anna could never understand why. Liz could take everyday, nothing-special ingredients—canned, frozen, dried—slap them into shape, and whip up a gourmet meal. It was a talent Anna lacked.
“You have to give me the recipe for whatever sauce you drizzled on the vegetables,” Anna said as she began to clear her place.
“The secret is mustard—and don’t do that.” Liz shooed Anna from the table and instructed them all to grab their wine glasses and follow her into the living room.
“I think my wife is eager to talk about her news,”
Dan said, taking a seat on the couch next to Liz.
“I have no intention of hogging the conversation,” Liz replied. “I can wait a while. Anyone else have any news?”
Liz had discovered something and was dying to tell everyone—and Anna was dying to hear it. But polite give-and-take talk first. It was only fair, considering that she and Liz were about to monopolize the conversation for who knew how long.
“I have something,” Gene said, sinking into a loveseat alongside Anna. “Alex Root came by the store today.”
Anna stopped swirling the wine in her glass. “Has he ever been in Buckhorn’s before?”
“Could be. I didn’t know who he was until he introduced himself. He tried to give me Jazmin’s jacket, said she left it at his house.”
“Tried to give it to you?” Anna said.
“Jazmin was at the register—he saw her when he entered the store. I told him where he could find her then went back to unpacking stock.”
“He wanted you to know she was at his house.”
“More likely he wanted you to know.”
“That explains what happened to her jacket,” Liz said. She glanced sideways at Dan. “We saw her walking down Summit without her jacket, upset about something.”
“And now we know what,” Anna said. Instantly she knew what was going on. Jazmin was interested in astral projection and Alex was more than happy to tempt her. And like Maddy, Alex took special delight in making sure Anna knew what he was up to. But what exactly had happened at Alex’s house? It wasn’t like Jazmin to cry in public. The girl was expert at maintaining an icy facade.
“Isn’t Alex’s house where you gave your talk?” Gene asked.
“Yeah, he lives south of Summit, about half a mile from Buckhorn’s.” She sipped her wine and thought for a moment. “But he gives his seminars on astral projection at a place called the Boulder Institute for Metaphysical Education.”
“Jazmin’s taking a course on astral projection?” Dan asked in disbelief. “Isn’t that child abuse?”
“She’s nineteen,” Gene said, well aware that Jazmin was still a child in so many ways. He’d often said that to Anna. Jazmin was that rare combination of streetwise and childlike.
“Maybe he gives private lessons at his house,” Liz said with a grimace.
Anna’s stomach churned. The next time she saw him, she’d give it to him with both barrels: Keep your evil to yourself, Alex. She would not mince words, she would not play nice. “He recruited her. He did it deliberately.”
“We don’t know that,” Gene said.
Anna wished that just this once Gene would take a break from his cool, commonsense examination of the facts and trust her instincts. She had known people like Alex. He never had. “Gene, he’s trying to drag her into his world. And it’s not just astral projection—he’s having an affair with Maddy, and she’s into demonology.”
“Whoa.” Dan upended his glass and polished off the rest of his wine. “Demonology?”
“I haven’t had a chance to update you,” Liz said. “Maddy Gilmartin teaches demonology at some faux institute in Boulder, that’s all. She’s a fraud.”
Anna decided that unless Liz brought it up, she wouldn’t mention the sigil at Esther’s house. No need to throw more disconcerting information Dan’s way. And the less they both said about astral projection, the better. She was sure Dan had no idea she had once entered that dangerous world. And now Jazmin had—or was planning to. Anna’s fingers curled tightly around her glass. She couldn’t talk to Jazmin about her plans. She was always questioning her, always lecturing and finding fault—everything Jazmin had said to her in the Jimmy was true. But she could talk to Alex. And that she would.
“So what’s your news, Liz?” Gene said.
Liz didn’t waste a moment. “The police think they have two murderers on their hands. Whoever killed Russell Thurman didn’t kill Ruby Padilla.”
“Two murderers in Elk Park?” Gene said.
“They were both stabbed, weren’t they?” Dan said.
“But that’s where the similarity ends.” Liz sat forward, eager to dispel the assumptions she and Anna had made about Ruby’s murder. “Russell was stabbed eleven times with a five-inch blade, twice in the back and nine times in his chest and shoulders, and each wound was to the hilt, as deep as the blade would allow.”
Dan made a face of disgust.
“Sorry,” Liz said, touching his arm. “You hate this stuff.”
“Well, you can’t ignore a murder in Elk Park. It’s your job to find out about it,” he said, getting up from the couch. “More wine, anyone?”
“I’m set,” Gene said.
“No thanks,” Anna said, gesturing for Liz to continue as Dan retreated to the kitchen.
“Ruby was stabbed five times with a four-inch blade—a different knife,” Liz said. “Twice in the back, three times in the chest and stomach. But only the first wound, one of the two in her back, was serious enough to be fatal. The other four wounds were shallow and were made postmortem. The killer turned her over”—Liz made a flipping motion with her hands—“to stab her again after she died.”
Whoever killed Ruby wanted her murder to echo Russell’s, Anna thought, but he or she had balked at doing what was necessary. The four postmortem wounds were the work of a squeamish killer. “How did Ruby’s killer know that Russell had been stabbed twice in the back?”
“My thoughts exactly,” Liz said excitedly. She stretched sideways, reaching out until she could set her glass on the end table. “I know about that through a contact, so the information can be obtained by people with connections, but all the news outlets were told only that Russell died of multiple stab wounds.”
“So someone with access to Thurman’s autopsy killed Ruby?” Gene said.
“Access to the autopsy or to someone in the medical examiner’s office or police department,” Liz said, spreading her hands. “The second killer tried to mimic Russell’s murder.”
“Not just that,” Anna said, her mind racing, making connections, “but whoever killed Ruby stabbed her once from behind and waited until she was dead before even looking at her.”
“Livor mortis indicated she died face down,” Liz said.
“Then this killer shallowly, almost gently, jabbed her with the knife four more times.”
Having missed out on the more gruesome details, his wine glass full, Dan returned to his seat on the couch.
“It sounds like Ruby knew her killer,” Gene said.
“She did?” Dan said.
“Her autopsy suggests it,” Liz replied. “She was taken by surprise in her own house, which means she let the killer in, and the killer couldn’t bear to stab her seriously more than once—or to look at her as she died.”
Anna hesitated to say out loud what she was thinking. The thought was too awful to contemplate. But it undeniably fit the facts.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Liz asked her.
“Raena Starke,” Anna said. “Ruby Padilla’s sister,” she added in answer to Gene’s and Dan’s questioning looks. She explained Raena’s vote to fast-track the Gilmartins’ wind farm and her plan to run for Congress.
“That’s the first name that came to my mind too,” Liz said.
“But Liz, her own sister?” Anna said.
“If Raena was involved in a scheme to get that wind farm approved—”
“And someone used that information to get Ruby to vote for the involuntary historical designation, and then—”
“Raena runs for Congress, making it imperative that she look squeaky clean.”
The two were tripping over each other’s words, tumbling toward the same interpretation of the facts.
“What if Ruby wanted to put an end to it?” Anna asked. “Esther came to her, begging her to help. It must have been painful to tell her no, especially knowing Esther would lose her house.”
“You said it was unlike Ruby to vote for that law,” Gene added.
“It
was completely out of character.”
“Yes, it makes sense,” Liz said. “Ruby had second thoughts about her vote. And if Raena was involved in a shady wind-farm deal and that came out, her political career would be over.” She shifted, rose and tucked a leg beneath her, sat again. She was in full newswoman mode, and though it was clear that Dan was hopelessly adrift in a sea of unfamiliar names and facts, he remained silent, smiling at the sight of Liz in action.
“It’s still hard to believe,” Anna said.
“Siblings have killed before,” Liz said. “Especially siblings with ambition. Family is the first place the police look after a murder. Maybe the two weren’t close to begin with, and then Ruby threatened Raena’s run for Congress.”
Anna pictured Raena Starke in Ruby Padilla’s house. Invited in. Smiling, probably. Then pulling a knife on her sister, stabbing her in the back, and watching her die before turning her over and piercing her four more times. All for a political career. Or to avoid prison, if she’d stepped far beyond the line of the law in her position as county commissioner. Liz was right that such things happened, but Anna’s mind protested the leap from scheming politician to sister killer.
“Something’s not right here,” Anna said. “Let’s say Raena takes money for her commissioner vote to allow the wind farm. She gets money, the Gilmartins get their wind farm. Why doesn’t it end there?”
“You mean why would Raena involve Ruby?” Gene said.
“She’d have no reason to,” Anna said. It was possible there were two murderers in Elk Park, Anna thought, but something connected them, and she couldn’t believe one of them was Raena Starke. If nothing else, Ruby’s killer wanted to imitate Russell’s killer, and there had to be a reason for that. “Maybe someone else involved Ruby. Someone who knew about the wind-farm deal.”
Liz sighed and kneaded the bridge of her nose. “What a jumble this is. I don’t know what to think.”
Land and house deals, beehives, Alex and Maddy’s plans for Halloween, the murders of Russell, Ruby, and even Jennifer Toller. As separate as those puzzle pieces might appear, Anna thought, they fit together. She needed to start fresh, organize her facts like a genealogist, fill in the missing pieces, and see the larger picture. Walking in the midst of a straw maze, it was easy to become lost in the twists and turns, but if you could somehow hover above the maze and see it whole, the way out would be clear. “I need to start at square one,” she said. “Go back to Zoey’s and Paul’s genealogies and work my way from there. I know their real names, but not their family trees.”
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