by Ritter Ames
“Oh, yeah.” Keith shook his head. “Do you know where I left my hat last night, Kate?”
“You weren’t wearing a hat,” she said. “You might find it in the Jeep. Or it may still be at the cabin.”
Until Jane and George arrived to pick up the girls and drop off the cat—“We’ll bring the rest of his stuff by after church”—the McKenzie kitchen operated like a well-oiled machine. Well, except for Meg finally laying her head on her arms and napping at the table. Kate used up the rest of the bread on toast production. Keith pulled Kate’s van out of the garage, then the four guys unloaded the Jeep and left everything on the newly empty side of the garage, closing both doors again to hide the disarray. Sam and Suze were ready in record time, and flew out of the house, hurrying their grandparents so they wouldn’t miss being able to sit with their friends.
As Jefferson Meeks pulled up a few minutes past nine, the Jeep left the cul-de-sac with an empty back bay, four males ready to disassemble tents. They also carried with them the murder victim’s phone that Kate had found under the sofa, and which Meg would have probably thrown at Paul Gaines if someone hadn’t shot him first.
Kate roused Meg enough to get her walking toward the couch, then after settling her under a cotton throw, the cat and Kate walked out to talk to Jefferson.
“Hi, Jefferson,” Kate waved as they neared the Berman home. “Gil said he thought you were all squared on information with the phone call, but to feel free to call him if you have any questions or concerns.”
The big man’s huge white smile reassured Kate, like always, and his voice rumbled from way down and low in his chest. “We got everything squared up. No problems. I was about to knock and let Meg know I’m here.”
“Meg is dead to the world on my sofa at the moment,” Kate said. “She worried and stewed all night. Once she wakes again, she’ll be your number one fan for showing up to do this on a Sunday morning.”
“If I didn’t do it now, I wouldn’t have time otherwise,” he said. “And this didn’t sound like a job that should wait.”
“We can’t thank you enough,” Kate said. “I’ll leave you to your work, but feel free to drop by the house if you want coffee or anything. Gil left the back door unlocked.”
“Thanks. I’ll head on in there. Probably start in the attic,” he said. Then he pointed at the ground beside Kate. “Interesting looking cat you got there. Seems to follow you around like a dog. Most cats aren’t followers. They tend to lead, even if no one follows. You have a special cat.”
Kate stooped down and lifted Robin-Hero. “Yes, he’s one interesting fella all right. We’re still trying to figure him out.”
Suddenly the sound of nearly diesel loud purring filled the air.
“Well, you might be thinking you need to figure him out,” Jefferson said, grinning. “But that cat sounds like he has you all figured out. Never heard the like.”
CHAPTER TEN
NO CAMPING KIT IS COMPLETE Without—
Always carry sunscreen, and always wear a hat. Too much direct sunlight is of course dangerous to anyone’s skin, but too much heat on the top of a hiker’s head can make one weak, dizzy, and even suffer from hallucinations. Another inexpensive item to always carry on a hike is a small jar of Vaseline. Petroleum jelly can be used for protecting face, lips and hands from chapping, and is also a terrific salve if something causes irritation during your hike. Another great application for petroleum jelly is that it doubles as a fabulous firestarter—rub it on a few sticks of kindling, light a match, and see what happens.
KATE AND THE CAT HAD been back in the house about half an hour and were moving between the bedrooms while she worked to put away clothes they’d taken on the trip, when Meg yelled from downstairs.
“What is it?” Kate was almost out of breath she’d raced down so quickly. “What’s wrong.”
“I woke up with a brilliant idea,” Meg said.
“Okay, I’ll bite, what is it?”
“Gil’s computer.”
“What?”
“Paul worked on Gil’s computer the other night, writing his story and using his phone to pull up his research notes,” Meg explained. “Gil hasn’t touched it since. Which means we may be able to use the history to at least follow part of what Paul was working on. Want to go with me to check?”
Kate shrugged. “Why not. Jefferson said he was going to be in your attic. We may as well head over there now while we don’t have to worry about being alone.”
She carried the cat back upstairs and tossed him on hers and Keith’s queen-size bed. “I’ll be back soon. I promise. Just take a nap.” She gave him an extra head rub before she closed the door and left.
Minutes later, the women were next door, in Gil Berman’s office, and firing up the computer that stayed on the desk.
“Do you know what you’re looking for?” Kate asked.
“Of course not. But that’s never stopped me before. Would you mind going to the attic opening upstairs and tell Jefferson we’re here? I don’t want him to be concerned if he hears voices.”
“Good idea.”
She climbed the stairs to the second level, maneuvering around the Berman’s loveable tuxedo cat who thought Kate had come to pet him—and didn’t want to give up the midlevel step he’d been napping across. The ceiling access to the attic was open, and the ladder extended into the hall.
“Hello, Jefferson?”
“Yeah, I’m up here. Is that you, Kate?”
“Yes,” she called back. “Meg and I are on the computer downstairs, and we wanted to let you know in case you heard voices and wondered where they were coming from in the house.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I don’t know how long we’ll be here, but if we’re not in this house, we’ll be at mine.”
“Okay. Great.”
Kate stepped away from the ladder. As she turned to head back down, she noticed a bunch of pictures spread out on Mark’s floor. Moving over to take a look, she got down on her knees to see better and realized they had been taken on their hike the previous afternoon. He’d even managed to get a decent shot of the Salleys. Kate picked up the photo to take with her, but stopped an extra minute to do another quick scan of each to see if there was anything else Mark took a picture of that may be important to the case.
“Nothing,” she mused, rising from the floor with the original picture in her hand. “He captured a lot of terrific images, but nothing else that seems to connect with Paul or anything about his murder.” Until the toe of her shoe knocked one of the prints closest to her, and she realized that photo was on top of another. She picked up the hidden picture and realized it was a shot of Ben after they returned to the cabin, and he was apparently removing a small object from the top of the porch step.
By the time she reentered the office with the two photos she found, Meg seemed ready to explode with excitement.
“Where have you been? I think I’ve found something already,” she cried.
“Mark had some photos from the trip spread out on his floor, and I found a couple that are interesting.”
“Well, it can’t be as interesting as this.” Meg pointed to the screen. “His notes point to a hit man named Gus Harrison, who Paul says he can connect to a string of contract killings through a source with the initials A.G. And he notes another source who gave him information through pillow talk that he noted as A.M. And he was going to cut A.M. loose when he got all the information he needed. Seriously, he talks here about her being such a bimbo, but her mob pedigree goes so deep he’s found out all kinds of connections without her even realizing she’s spilling everything to him.”
Kate moved closer and hit the scroll button on the mouse. “Do any of his files have pictures of either this hitman or the initialed source?”
“Even the picture files are labeled with initials,” Meg said, pinching her lower lip between her fingers as she studied the directory. “Let’s see if I can find a G.H.”
&nbs
p; There was a picture. But the heavyset hood in the mugshot Paul left didn’t look anything like the shopkeeper, Gus Griffin.
“Darn. It was such a promising lead,” Meg groaned.
“I’m not sure Gus is in the clear yet, even if he isn’t the infamous hitman in Paul’s notes.” Kate placed the two photos on the desktop.
“Oh good, he got a picture of the Salleys,” Meg said. “I heard him printing in his room this morning, but I hadn’t realized he was using the flash card.”
“Mark did a great job with that cheap little camera,” Kate said. “He’s obviously interested in the medium. Maybe if you get him started with a few photography classes he’ll be less likely to eavesdrop on everyone.”
“Or it will help him have clandestine pictures to go with every illegal wiretap.” Meg frowned. “But it’s definitely something for us to think about and explore.”
Kate pointed to the second photo. The one that featured Ben. “Explore this while you’re at it.”
She related the late night conversation she and Sam had upon their return, and how Ben had given her daughter a fake fingernail decorated with polish similar to Tina’s. “Makes me wonder if Tina might have been at least one of Paul’s local girls.”
“And Gus found out and killed Paul?” Meg asked. “Of course, Gus said at the store Tina hated Paul. But what better way to fool your spouse when you’re having an affair?”
“It’s a theory. And as good a one as any other,” Kate said.
Meg turned back to the keyboard. “Let me get all of this emailed to Lieutenant Johnson. I’ll scan the Salleys’ picture and send it too. Then when Ben gets back with the guys, I’ll do a little interrogating of my own and find out what he was picking up in this picture. And if it wasn’t the sparkly fingernail, I’ll ask where he actually did find the fake nail.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HIKING HACKS FOR WHEN Those “Just in Case” Surprises Occur
One of the easiest ways to stay prepared for anything is to wrap duct tape around your water bottles before setting off on a hike. If you carry a lighter along, wrap several rounds of duct tape around it too. If an emergency comes up where you need a few strips of the silver wonder tape, you can pull it off the water bottle or lighter base just the same as if you’re taking it off the roll. This can be important if a shoe falls apart and you need to hold it together to get back to camp, or you need to pull off a tick or five—duct tape is fabulous for that, as well. Also, add a couple of binder clips to the straps of your backpack or rucksack. They add virtually no extra weight to your pack, but can come in handy when something breaks or falls apart on your route.
JEFFERSON MEEKS ENTERED the room as Meg sent emails. In one of his dark hands was a roll of duct tape. In the other he held several diminutive cameras, their size appearing even smaller due to the size of his hand.
“Do you use duct tape to affix cameras to the walls?” Kate asked, pointing at the silver roll.
“Sometimes,” he said. “Though I prefer to use removable 3M sticky pads for temporary attachments.” He raised the tape. “I used this today to get all the wires to stay in place in the attic.”
“It’s better than electrical tape?”
“For my purposes it is.” He looked over at Meg who waved hello but didn’t quit typing. “She looks busy.”
“She is. Do you need some help?”
“I just wanted to see if she had particular places she wanted cameras,” he said.
Meg stopped and turned his way. “Put them everywhere you think they need to be, Jefferson. I’m all for ultimate safety. Even bathrooms aren’t off-limits as far as I’m concerned.”
His bass laugh was quiet but striking. “I don’t think we need to go to that extreme, but I’ll make sure the bathroom doors and windows are covered to help thwart any intruders.” He was still chuckling as he left the room.
The emails took Meg another twenty minutes to complete. But when she notified Johnson the last one had been sent, she got a response back right away from the lieutenant that he’d received all the photos and files. She’d added that Gil had taken Paul’s phone earlier in the morning to turn over to the local constables, and Johnson responded he’d follow up on it as well.
“Want to go back over to my house now, so Jefferson doesn’t feel like he has to babysit us?” Kate asked.
“Yes, I agree,” Meg said, her expression still looking like she was preoccupied with the information she’d just been working on. “I need to go and talk to before I leave, though. I’ve been issuing orders and ignoring him. Not the best way to treat a man who’s doing your family a huge favor, no matter how little sleep I’ve had and how preoccupied I was at the time.”
“I’m sure he understands,” Kate said, smiling. “I’ll go on over and get some cookies in the oven so that we can have those with coffee.”
“You mean the oatmeal, peanut butter, choco chunk wonders?”
“Right.”
Meg frowned. “I thought the guys didn’t bring back any of the food last night from the cabin.”
“They didn’t,” Kate said. “But I kept my extra secret stash of a hidden dozen in the freezer. That’s what I’m baking up this morning.”
“So sneaky, Kate McKenzie. I’m impressed.”
“Feel free to mention to Jefferson that there will be coffee and fresh cookies served in thirty minutes, but he’s welcome anytime.”
“Will do.”
The cookies wouldn’t take that long to bake, but Kate decided she needed a shower to wake up. Keith could make plans to nap all Sunday afternoon if he liked, but she had too much to do in the coming week, with the start of school looming. No way she wanted her sleeping schedule disrupted. She had a hard enough time keeping it working for her without messing everything up with a mid-afternoon snooze.
In her cheery cherry kitchen, she set the oven to preheat, and grabbed the small frozen flat of cookies from the freezer. “I can taste you already,” she said, grinning. She went ahead and started fresh coffee too, and made a full pot since there would be three of them.
Upstairs, the cat followed her into the master bath, but she was getting used to the furball waiting for her in the bathroom while she showered. He was probably still trying to figure out why he spent the night with Jane and George. Another reason Kate didn’t bother throwing him out.
She turned on the shower to build up steam and wrapped her hair in a thick towel so she wouldn’t have to dry it after. Likely, it would frizz, but a shower would still be worth it. After luxuriating under the water and letting the massage jets pound her back for a good ten minutes, she stepped out and dried off. She’d already pulled on a pair of beige chinos and was reaching for the hanger holding one of her favorite pink t-shirts when she thought she heard a car door slam.
“Surely the guys can’t be back already,” she said to the cat, who was currently winding himself around her ankles. When she looked out, she didn’t recognize the small car. It was a snazzy blue sports car, but she didn’t know anyone who owned a model like that. The owner of the car was already ringing the doorbell, so couldn’t be seen from the bedroom window. “Well, Robin-Hero. It’s time to see who our mysterious visitor is.”
When she headed downstairs, however, she found Meg at the door talking to Tina Griffin.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Kate said. “Come in you two.”
“I noticed Tina’s car drive up when I was cutting through the backyards,” Meg explained. “So I circled around the side of the house to go through the front instead.”
“Let’s go into the kitchen. I left the oven preheating, and it should be ready for me to add the cookies.”
“What kind?” Tina asked.
“The most glorious oatmeal recipe you’ve ever tasted,” Meg said.
Tina curled her lip. “Oatmeal and raisin?”
“Nothing that pedestrian,” Meg assured. “Trust me when I say you’re going to want this recipe after you take the first bite.”
> As the others followed her into the kitchen, Kate pulled out a small, but nicely weighted baking sheet she used for micro batches of cookies. While she wasn’t cooking a lot, she’d learned using the heavier sheet, with a thickness more than three times that of other baking sheets, kept her cookies from overcooking on the bottoms. There was nothing that disappointed her more than having what looked like the perfect cookie on top and finding nothing but charcoal underneath. Then Kate slid the pan of cookie dough into the hot oven.
“Coffee, Tina?” she asked.
“Yes, that would be great.”
“Cream? Sugar?”
“Just black, thanks.”
Kate wondered if Meg had any ideas about how to bring up their suspicions about Gus to Tina. She’d never found the best way to ask another woman, ‘were you having an affair with a jerk of a journalist, and did your husband find out and shoot him?’
No, she thought, that definitely wasn’t the preferred method to gain the trust of a cheating wife of a man who might be a murderer.
But Meg had been keeping the conversation ball in play, and Kate had plenty of time to sit and drink her coffee and watch the interplay between the women. A few minutes later, Meg asked, “So how did you and Gus get together? Kate noticed your husband’s Chicago accent, but you’re from the Northeast, right?”
“Yeah, I’m a Jersey girl,” Tina replied.
“You miss New Jersey?”
“Only all the time,” she said. “Gus moved me out into the boonies saying we’d have a good life and be able to raise our kids happy. That sounded good when we got married, but there’ve been no kids, and the happiness factor is getting lower every day.”
“Gus doesn’t want to move back?” Kate asked.
“Nah, he doesn’t get along with my family, and they have a pretty good hold on the area,” Tina took a sip of coffee. “Ooh, this is good, Kate. You know your beans.”