I could feel flames creeping into my cheeks. I dropped my eyes and nodded, wanting to fall into a large hole. That seemed to be a running theme in my relationship with Dean. While I didn’t necessarily mind Dean knowing what sort of underthings I wore, I did not want him to find out in such a cold and clinical way. I had something much more romantic in mind. Like a soft blanket in front of a cheery fire, while snow fell gently outside. Or maybe on a soft blanket in the middle of a forest clearing at night, while stars wheeled above our heads and a soft breeze caressed our bodies. An obnoxious, beeping machine did not figure into any of my romantic Dean-involved fantasies.
“Figured. Come on through,” he said, handing the wand back to the deputy. He picked up my bag and the small container of my keys and change and held them out to me. Then he grabbed my jacket and carried it with him back to his office. I followed in his tracks, trying to ignore my lingering embarrassment. And the feelings that my fantasies had engendered.
Dean’s office was small but pristine. His desk was empty except for a silver-framed photo of his mother and father, three brothers, and him wearing fishing gear and standing knee-deep in a stream. Dean and his brothers were carbon copies of their father, though Dean’s features were softened a bit by his mom’s full lips and thick, coal-black lashes. On the wall behind Dean’s desk were a few framed articles from the Chronicle about various crimes Dean had solved during his years as with the police department in Denver, then as a deputy and finally as sheriff for Clear Creek County. His diploma from Colorado State hung among the articles, and there were even some awards from various civic clubs around the state. Across from the desk, on a small set of shelves, were football and baseball trophies from Clear Creek High School, as well as more family photos taken in pursuit of conquering black diamond ski slopes, as well as from the backs of trail horses, and one of the entire family clustered around the body of a seven-point buck.
“Have a seat,” Dean said, patting the back of a comfortable-looking leather chair that sat across the desk from his own seat. Before he sat down behind the desk, he laid my coat across the back of a loveseat beneath the windows. Once settled, he removed a single folder from a drawer and smiled at me.
I sat down with my purse at my feet. “Okay,” I said, sitting back in the chair and crossing my legs. “Why am I here?”
“Last night, Deputies McGill and Nichols and I executed a search warrant for Gordon Oakes’s house. We found files identical to the ones Viki kept of the victims of her blackmail scheme. Names, addresses, photos, and payment amounts. We also found bank statements for an account opened nine months ago and held jointly by Gordon and Viki. The balance was more than $275,000. Weekly deposits of about $5,000 were made over the same nine months.”
“Gordon and Viki started seeing each other almost a year ago. He moved here then, right? Where from?”
Dean withdrew another slim folder from the same desk drawer. He opened it and slid a photocopy of a newspaper article across to me. I noted that the article was from the Chronicle, dated twenty years prior. The headline read: LOCAL MAN CONVICTED IN RAPE AND MURDER OF TOURIST
“I remember this,” I said. “It happened while I was in Seattle, working on my master’s degree. But what does this have to do with our cases?”
The corner of Dean’s mouth was tugged up in a subtle smile. “Our cases, huh?” I nodded but couldn’t quite keep an answering smile from surfacing or subvert the wink I dropped either. “Read the first column,” he said, reaching across the desk to tap the article. “All your questions will shortly be answered.”
I lowered my eyes and skimmed the first column of the article. A familiar name leapt off the page at me. “Barry Shubitz was the defendant’s lawyer?” I glanced up at Dean with wide eyes.
“Yes. The defendant’s name, by the way, was George Jardins. Remember Jen mentioning him at the SummerFest?” I nodded. “After his conviction, Jardins fired Barry and hired a new lawyer to handle his appeal. He told the judge that Barry had mishandled his case, but before the court could hear the appeal, Jardins killed himself in his cell.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, lining up the pieces in what I hoped was the correct shape. “Is this what Gordon and Viki were blackmailing Barry for?”
“I think so. Gordon is Jardins’s son. He and his mother moved to Denver after Jardins was convicted. She and Gordon began using her maiden name, probably to distance themselves from Jardins’s crime and conviction.”
“So Gordon knows why his father fired Barry?”
“I would assume so, yes. I can’t say for certain until we find him and question him. But after talking with the state bar association to find out why Barry switched from criminal law to estate law, I discovered that Jardins had filed a grievance against Barry. Jardins alleged that Barry was stealing money from Jardins’s escrow account.” When I frowned in confusion, Dean explained. “See, whenever you hire a defense lawyer, your payments go into an escrow account. The lawyer can only use those funds to hire expert witnesses, pay for independent testing of evidence, stuff like that. Barry was stealing from Jardins’s accounts, and because of that, he couldn’t hire some witness or get some evidence tested that might have exonerated Jardins.”
“Oh, my goodness.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Barry was such a nice guy! How could he have done something like this?”
“He was in the middle of a nasty divorce. He needed the money to hire his own lawyer.” Dean shrugged. “It happens. People make stupid mistakes and then end up paying for them later.”
“But what a payment!” I fell silent, thinking about Barry and his awful death. Shaking off those thoughts, I asked, “How long ago did Gordon come back to Saxon Lake?”
“Two years ago. Gordon’s mother had died, and I guess he never got over what happened to his father. He must have come back to settle the score.”
“Gordon came back to hurt Barry? That’s awful.” I was quiet for a moment, then said, “For everyone involved. Barry, Gordon, Gordon’s parents...” I shook my head sadly. “The other blackmail schemes—the one with Paul Holmes and Tiffany Bright, Ed McMurray, and the others—he must have seen how easy it would be to take all that money from Barry—”
“Especially after Viki got him involved. I suspect the blackmail against Paul, Tiffany, and Ed were all Viki’s doing. She must have shown Gordon how easy and lucrative it was, and he must have figured it was the perfect way to get back at Barry.”
“Right. And his job, too, would make it easy.”
“His job?” Dean asked with a frown.
“Yeah. He’s a cable installer. People don’t pay much attention to them or plumbers or anyone like that. Gordon would have had plenty of opportunities to snoop through people’s homes, even their trash. It’s not like we lock our doors around here.”
“That’s a good point. So, in light of all this, Judge Bartlett issued an arrest warrant for Gordon Oakes this morning. There is an APB out for him in all jurisdictions in a seven-state area, and we’ve issued BOLOs to all train and bus terminals as well as all airports in Colorado. We’ll find him.”
“Wow,” I said. “Thanks for letting me help out. I’ve learned a lot, and I’m happy that you think I’ve helped you, too.” I stood to get into my jacket.
Dean stood, too, and said, “I’ll walk you out to your car.” He headed toward his office door, and I followed, enjoying the view for a long moment as we walked through the station.
Once we were out at my Ghia, Dean laid his hand on my forearm before I could climb in behind the wheel. “Wait a second before you go,” he said. “There’s a question I’ve wanted to ask since Saturday. You know, before all of this began.”
“Oh? Well, what is it?”
“There’s the big town dance on Saturday. And I was wondering... I mean, if you don’t already have a date, that is... What I mean is, would you like to go with me?”
I stared in dumbfounded amazement at him. Then I started laughing and shook my head.
“Well, you don’t have to be so rude about it,” Dean said through clenched teeth. “We had a nice dinner date the other night at the barbecue, and we work well together, and I thought—”
“Oh, no! No, that’s not why I’m laughing at all. I promise.” Dean gave me a narrow-eyed glare. I smiled at his expression. “I promise. The truth is, I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to ask you since Saturday. Remember when Jen said I had a question I wanted to ask you?”
A slow smile bloomed across Dean’s face. “You were going to ask me then?”
“I lost my nerve. I also lost my nerve during dinner at the bonfire, during lunch at the Red Dragon, a few times when we were on the phone... I lost my nerve a lot.”
“So,” he said with a grin, “what do you say? Gonna chicken out again?”
“Chicken out? Really?” He smirked. “I should say no. But... Yes. I’d love to go with you.”
“Awesome. I guess there’s a theme? The 1940s? We’re supposed to dress up.”
“Yeah. I’ve got a dress all picked out. I was going to go stag,” I explained when Dean gave me a questioning look. “Do you have a suit?”
“No. Mark and Jen are going. I’ll ask him where he got his suit.” He took a step back and nodded to my car. “I’ll come pick you up at your house at eight on Saturday, okay?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Bye, Bryony.”
I waved and slid behind the wheel. I didn’t even remember how I got back to the office. Everything after Dean saying goodbye was lost in a soft, fluffy, pink cloud of extreme happiness. I somehow navigated the crowded streets, parked my car, and walked into my shop without conscious thought. The next thing I knew I was sitting at my desk, transcribing a conversation I’d had that morning with a new patient.
Finally, after almost thirty years of friendship, pining for him, watching him date other girls, and nursing him through break-ups with all those girls, Dean Jensen had asked me out on a date. I was so giddy I couldn’t contain myself. I called Jennifer and my mom and broke the good news. Their reactions were almost identical.
“Well, it’s about time!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Saturday morning was Viki’s funeral. Her mother held it in Fort Collins, where Viki had grown up and gone to college. Mom, Jennifer, Mark, Dean, and I attended the service, and Viki’s mother, Susan, made certain to thank us for being there. She said that Viki had mentioned us frequently, and she was glad that Viki had friends like us. I gave her some healing teas, a milk bath, and some candles meant to soothe an anxious mind. I couldn’t bring her daughter back, but I hoped that somehow I could help brighten her spirits.
“I feel awful,” I said as Mom and I drove back to Saxon Lake after the service. “I never really liked Viki. I always thought she was—”
“Mean,” Mom said. “Rude. Short-tempered.”
“Mom!”
“Well, it’s true. She was all those things. But apparently, she thought nicely of us.” She sighed unhappily. “And you’re right. I feel awful, too.”
“Well, there’s not much we can do about it now.”
“Except bring Gordon to justice.”
I nodded. “Yes. Absolutely. Dean’s got BOLOs and an APB out. They’ve even set up a tip line at the paper. Jakob is offering a $10,000 reward for any tips that help Dean find him.”
“It’s in capable hands now,” Mom said. “I suppose all we can do is wait.” She fell silent as she navigated around a slow-moving RV. Once she was safely back in the right-hand lane, she said, “There’s never enough time, Bryony. The people we love... They’re never around for long enough to say all the things you want to say to them. So you have to say it every day.” She glanced away from the road briefly and smiled. “I do love you, daughter of mine. Very much.”
I blinked away tears and reached to pat her arm. “I love you, too, Mom.”
Her smile grew before she turned her attention back to the road. “Are you excited for tonight?”
“Yeah. I am. Jen’s coming over, and we’re doing our hair and makeup. Dean’s supposed to pick me up at eight.”
“I’ll see you there.”
“Oh? Are you and Adele going together?” Mom shook her head, an expression like the cat who’s swallowed a canary on her face. “Mom. What secret are you hiding?”
“Gus Vernon asked me. We’re going together.”
“Gus Vernon! As in the owner of August’s Foods? Mom! Are you dating him?”
“One date. Tonight. The first one.” Mom shook her head at my expression. “Pierce has been gone for five years now, Bryony. I still miss your father terribly, but I’m lonely. And Gus is sweet. And quite handsome.”
I smiled at the thought of the dapper widower who owned Saxon Lake’s only grocery store dating my mother. She was right, though. Gus was a very sweet man, and it had to be lonely for her without Dad around. “All right,” I said. “I suppose I can allow it.”
“Thank you,” she said dryly.
We arrived a few minutes later in the employee parking lot behind the Jørgensen Building. Since Mom still had not found someone to replace Viki, Stephen had been helping out as much as he could, and I’d agreed to fill in again today since Sage Wisdom was closed. I’d tried to convince Mom to keep the bookshop closed as well, but she’d insisted that Stephen could handle things. When we entered Taylor & Sons’ sales floor through the break room, there was a short line of people waiting at the register, and Stephen had a panicked look on his face.
“I’ll help Stephen,” I said, handing my coat and purse to Mom.
“Thank you, dear. I’ll be in the office.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Stephen and I worked on the sales floor, helping customers, ringing up sales, and straightening shelves. Then at five, Mom turned the sign on the front door from Open to Closed. She sent Stephen home, then she and I counted out the registers and prepared the deposits so she could drop them off at the bank early Monday morning.
As we were headed out to the parking lot, I stopped, patted my pockets, and said, “Oh, drat. I’ve left my cell phone by the register.”
“Want me to wait?” Mom asked.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll just run in and get it. You go on home and get ready for your date.” I grinned and hugged Mom before turning and going back inside.
The shop was dark and slightly creepy as I entered it and crossed the sales floor to the registers. I thought I heard the back door close with a thump but put it out of my mind. Apparently, Mom had decided to wait for me after all. I just hoped that she wouldn’t be late for her date that night.
As I left the register area, I dialed Dean’s number, wanting to make sure that he was still going to pick me up at home at eight. The door to the employee break room opened, and Gordon Oakes stepped onto the sales floor. He was brandishing a revolver in his hand. He looked terrible. His face was unshaven, his hair a greasy, lank mess, and his clothing was stained and wrinkled. I could smell his body odor from where I stood—rank and sour, as though he hadn’t showered in days.
I froze, my attention focused like a laser on the gun in Gordon’s hand. “Gordon?” I squeaked out. My cell phone fell to the floor with a soft thud, and I took a step back. “What are you doing here?”
“Stop,” Gordon said. “Just stop moving.” He held up the gun and shook it in my face. “Why are you interfering in my life?”
“What?” I was too numb to understand what Gordon was asking. I couldn’t take my eyes away from the revolver.
“Why did Viki call you? What did she tell you? Why did you go to the sheriff’s station yesterday?” Gordon moved closer, and I took another step back. “Stop! Don’t move any further.” He shook the gun once more. “This is loaded. And I will shoot you if you don’t stop moving and answer my questions.”
I swallowed and felt hot tears pricking at my eyes. I dragged my gaze away from the gun and forced myself to look at Gordon. “I don’t... I never spoke to Viki. She... She was dead be
fore I could.” I swallowed hard. “I know why you came back to Saxon Lake. You wanted to avenge your father. Viki helped you blackmail him.”
“I didn’t come back to Saxon Lake to blackmail Barry. I didn’t even know who he was at first! I came back because this is where my family was happy. My dad and mom really loved living here. There were some good memories before the trial.” He swallowed and sniffed. I was shocked to see that he was crying. “I wanted to relive those days. Mom always told me that I should come back.”
“So... How did... I mean, why did you blackmail Barry?”
“It wasn’t my idea,” Gordon said, his tone switching from forlorn little boy to angry, dangerous man in a blink. “Viki was already blackmailing people, that gay antique dealer and that couple having the affair. She was real good with computers. She could look up anyone and find out anything about them. That’s how she knew who my dad was. She told me what Barry did, how he stole from my dad’s defense fund, how it was his fault that my dad got put in jail and... k-k-killed himself.” Fresh tears sprang onto Gordon’s face.
“I’m so sorry about that, Gordon,” I said, hoping to soothe him and maybe get him to drop the gun. “Why don’t you tell me the truth? I’ll call Dean and tell him exactly what you tell me, and that way, everyone will know what really happened.”
“I just told you the truth!” Gordon shouted, waving the gun at me again and taking a couple of steps closer. “All of this is Viki’s fault! She was the one who started blackmailing all those people. She was the one who told me that Barry was the reason my dad got put in jail. I was tired of waiting for Barry to suffer. He had to die! Just taking his money wasn’t enough anymore. It wasn’t helping. My dad was still dead, and Barry was still alive and free. I had to kill him. You understand that, right?”
“I understand, Gordon,” I said. “Barry hurt you, hurt your family. But what about Viki? Why did you kill her, too?”
“I heard her talking to you on the phone. I heard her tell you to have the sheriff call her. Viki told me she was going to tell the sheriff everything. She had to die, Miss Taylor. I couldn’t let her... Couldn’t let her ruin everything.” He raised the gun again and cocked it. His hand was steady as he aimed directly at my head. My blood ran cold, and I could barely breathe. “And I can’t let you ruin everything either. I’m sorry, Miss Taylor. I like you. You’ve always been kind to me. But I can’t go to jail. I’ll end up just like my dad.”
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