“Thanks, and I’m not so sure it was just the alcohol talking. From the looks I’ve been getting from some of the folks who are here today, he’s not the only one in town who thinks I may be the one who killed Aunt Agnes.”
“All the more reason to find the killer. We need to clear your name. Just for the record, Mike, I believe you.”
“I appreciate that. See you later.”
Kelly walked over to Mike and put her hand on his arm. “You okay, honey?”
“Yeah. Just didn’t need that right now. Our trip to see Aunt Agnes is becoming one big nightmare. It seems like it’s just one ugly thing after another.”
“We’ll get through it. I’m right here for you and so are Brad and Julia. You’re not going through this by yourself.”
“Thanks. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
“I know you’ll be fine, but I do worry about you, and from the way Rebel’s looking at you, he’s worried too.” They both turned to look down at the big boxer who was standing as close to Mike as he could get. It was as if he was trying to protect him from everything that was happening.
“Kelly, did you notice if Rebel was standing next to me when Daniel started yelling at me?”
“I was watching Daniel. People with guns scare me, particularly drunk people with guns. Knowing Rebel, I imagine he sensed danger and probably came up to you about that time. The last time I remember seeing him, he was in the yard with Sam and Lady and now here he is right next to you. I think he constantly watches out for you.”
Mike reached down and scratched Rebel’s ears. “Thanks, big guy. I’m fine, but it sure makes me feel good to know you’re here for me.”
Kelly walked into the kitchen to thank the ladies from the church. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done today. I don’t know what I would have done without you. People are leaving, and it looks like the fireworks are over, so why don’t you go ahead and take off. My daughter and I can clean up everything that’s left.”
“Kelly,” the large woman who had spoken to Kelly earlier said, “there’s not much to clean up other than a few pots and pans. It’s a good thing so many people brought food, because we’ve put out the last of it.”
“That’s amazing! I thought we’d be eating that food for days.”
“Nope. Since we used paper plates and cups, shouldn’t be too bad of a clean-up job. How’s your husband doing? Shame that cousin of his had to barge in here and say those awful things about him. Don’t think people will pay him much mind. He’s not too well-liked around these parts.”
“Thanks. My husband is fine. It’s just that a day like today is stressful enough without adding something to it like what just happened. I know Mike will be very glad when the killer is finally found.”
“He’s not the only one. A lot of us are locking our doors and looking over our shoulders when we walk down the street. We’re not used to a murderer being on the loose in Calico Gold. All of us hope he or she is found real soon. And Kelly, remember that I saved you a piece of my Big Smile cake. It’s in the refrigerator.”
“Thanks. Again, I really appreciate everything you’ve done.”
The ladies from the church were soon gone. There had been enough going on at Aunt Agnes’ funeral and reception to keep every gossip in town busy for a long time.
CHAPTER 25
The funeral service and reception that followed had made it an exhausting day, and everyone in the family was tired. After finishing dinner they sat on the porch, quietly letting the events of the day drift away. Mike was sitting on the porch swing with Ella and Olivia next to him, while he pointed to different stars in the sky and called out their names. If one could ignore the fact that there had been two recent deaths on the ranch, it easily could have been a scene taken from an old Norman Rockwell painting. Unfortunately the two deaths took away the serenity of the moment.
“Mike, someone’s coming up the lane. I can see the headlights,” Brad said.
“Swell, that’s just what I need. You’d think whoever it is would realize we’ve had a rough day and give us a little privacy. I’m not up to making nice one more time.” He stood and walked to the edge of the porch.
A dark blue pickup truck pulled up in front of the porch, and a man about forty years old got out. His black hair was beginning to grey at the temples, and he was dressed in blue jeans, a light blue chambray shirt, and wore cowboy boots. “You must be Mike Reynolds,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Huston Brooks. I want to apologize for not being able to attend your aunt’s funeral today, but I was in court all day.”
“My aunt talked to me about you, and how she was supporting you in your campaign to be elected judge. Let me introduce you to my family.”
Huston walked up the steps and shook hands with everyone as Mike made the introductions.
“Mike, I feel like I know you because your aunt spoke so highly of you. She told me she’d called and asked you to come to the ranch. Agnes told me about some letters she’d recently received, and I became concerned for her safety. I urged her to tell the police chief about them, but your aunt was not the easiest person to persuade if her mind was set against something. She was certain you could help, and she told me she’d wait until you got here before deciding what to do about the letters.”
“I wish she’d listened to you, Huston. If she had, maybe she wouldn’t have been murdered. I feel certain there must be a connection between the letters she received and her murder. The night before she was murdered she told me about several people she thought might have sent them.”
“I have some ideas on that subject. Let’s compare notes.”
“Please tell me. I want to get this behind me, plus there’s one other problem. I’m considered by some to be a suspect, because my aunt made me the sole beneficiary of her Will. I had no idea she was even thinking of something like that. I not only want to catch the killer, I want to clear my name.”
“For one,” Huston said, “I never trusted the guy, Gary Sanders, who was living in the shack next to the stream on the ranch. I understand he committed suicide this morning, and I told your aunt repeatedly that something was really wrong with him. He certainly would be a suspect in my eyes.”
“Yes, he was in my mind too. I realize he could have done it, but in a suicide note he left he said that’s why he was committing suicide, so he wouldn’t hurt anyone. It’s a bit of a paradox, and if he was the killer, I don’t know how we could prove it now that he’s dead.”
“I know you’ll think what I’m about to say is self-serving, but I have strong doubts about Judge Lane and a developer by the name of Richard Martin. I know she’s gotten over $60,000 in campaign contributions from him, and they both wanted to see this property developed. What stood in the way was your aunt.”
“Yes, I’m very aware of their relationship. They were at the funeral, and as a matter of fact, I have a meeting with Richard Martin tomorrow morning here at the ranch.”
“I got a call from my campaign consultant on the way over here. He’s been investigating Martin, and evidently his company has been involved in several things which were illegal, but the company has always managed to skate. According to him, the judge and Martin are involved in more than a platonic relationship. She’s been able to help him gain approval for a number of his projects, some of which probably never should have been approved. In her capacity as judge, she’s overridden certain county requirements such as building setbacks, water rights, parking requirements, and evidently quite a few others. Whether the two of them would go as far as murder? Who knows? But what is known is that they have a history of turning their backs on the law in order to get what they want. In my opinion both of them are arrogant and ambitious.”
“Thanks for sharing your thoughts with me. On a similar subject, do you know if John Wilson, the rancher who owns the ranch adjacent to the Robertson Ranch, and Richard Martin have any type of a relationship?”
“I asked my consultant to look into tha
t as well, because I know your aunt always wondered if that was one of the reasons John wanted to buy her ranch. He couldn’t find anything that linked the two of them together other than Martin, the developer, had offered to buy Wilson’s land. It looks like Martin wants the Robertson Ranch for the golf course and John’s property for the resort. Since they’re adjoining properties, it would make sense. John’s always been a straight shooter in my book. I’ve never known him to do anything illegal. I truly think he wants the Robertson Ranch for the water, and nothing else.”
“That was my impression. He told me he didn’t want it to be his legacy that he had to sell his ranch, which had been in his family for over a hundred years, because he couldn’t find a way to get water onto the property. I would do the same if I was him, but then again, he’s desperate, and desperate men are often pushed to do things they would never normally do.”
“Sounds like you’ve been able to come up with several suspects. Any more?”
“Yes. My aunt told me the night I arrived about a cousin I have by the name of Daniel Noonan. I previously knew nothing about him, but apparently she told him recently he would not be inheriting the property, and that I was the sole beneficiary of her Will. She told me he was very angry, and he made a scene here today during the reception which followed the funeral. He didn’t actually threaten me, but he was drunk and waving a gun around. The chief arrested him. He’s in jail at the moment.”
“Your aunt told me about him, and how she’d been supporting him for years. She said she knew she should stop, but she still felt guilty about what her parents had done to your aunt’s sister. I’ve met him a couple of times, and I didn’t like him. As a matter of fact, I told your aunt I thought she should cut him off. She listened to me, but I don’t think she heard me.”
“The police chief believes in my innocence. He and I have managed to get handwriting samples from all of the people I’ve mentioned with the exception of Richard Martin, the developer. I’ll try to think of something I can have him sign when he’s here tomorrow. The chief has a friend in Sacramento who’s with the Department of Justice, and his specialty is handwriting analysis. According to the chief, he’s been used as an expert witness in a lot in court cases. We’re hoping there’s a match between one of the suspect’s handwriting and the letters. That’s a place to start. It won’t prove who murdered Aunt Agnes, but it would show who sent her the letters. At least we’d be one step closer to finding out who did it.”
“I think that’s an excellent plan. What can I do to help?”
“Nothing that I can think of. By the way, I’d like to make a contribution to your campaign, and I believe Kelly, Brad, and Julia would like to as well.” He turned to them. “Is that all right with all of you?”
There was a unanimous response of yes. “Why don’t you give me a few campaign contribution envelopes? I think we can all write a maximum amount check to you.”
“Thank you, all of you. That’s an extremely generous thing for you to do. I certainly didn’t come here tonight to solicit campaign funds. I came here because your aunt was my role model, and I want to do anything I can to help you find the person who killed her. If you need anything, please call me. Here’s my business card, and my cell phone number is on the reverse side.”
“My aunt believed in you, and as we all know, she didn’t suffer fools lightly. I wish you the best of luck in your campaign. Thanks for coming out here. I know you must be tired. Spending a day in court, driving home, and then taking the time to come out here tells me a lot about you. Thanks again,” Mike said.
“Nice meeting all of you. I’ll be seeing you,” Huston said as he walked down the steps and got in his truck. He waved one final time and then drove down the lane.
“Nice man,” Kelly said. “That was a class act to come out here after his long day. No wonder your aunt was helping him. I hope he wins the election. Certainly seems like his character is a lot better than the judge’s.”
“Couldn’t agree more, sweetheart. I’ve got to get some sleep. A major case of fatigue is visiting me, and it looks like it’s settled in for the night.”
Julia stood up. “I think we’re all ready for a good night of sleep. Come on girls. Mom, see you in the morning,” she said as she kissed Kelly on the cheek and took the girls’ hands.
“You all go on up. I’ll let the dogs out and lock up. Sleep well,” Brad said as the rest of them walked up the stairs, hoping for a better night’s sleep than the one they’d had the night before.
CHAPTER 26
Kelly woke up with a start in the middle of the night, trying to capture what she’d been dreaming about. She remembered she and Mike were talking about how the police chief had four samples of handwriting and was going to send them to his friend in Sacramento. She’d reminded Mike that the developer, Richard Martin, was coming to the Robertson House at ten the next morning. Mike had said something about trying to get a sample of his handwriting, but he couldn’t think of any reason the developer would give it to him.
Like a spark plug firing off in her brain, Kelly thought if the judge and the developer had gone to Aunt Agnes’ funeral, which they surely must have given the fact they showed up at the reception, maybe they signed the guest book that was usually kept in the area outside the church sanctuary. Kelly hadn’t been in the front entrance area of the church during the funeral service, so she wasn’t sure if there had even been a guest book, but it was the traditional thing to do. She decided to go to the church first thing in the morning to see if Richard Martin had signed the guest book.
If he signed the guest book, and I can get a copy of it, we’ll have the handwriting of all five of the suspects. It doesn’t put a smoking gun in any of their hands, but if there’s a match, it’s a start. With that thought in mind, she drifted off to sleep.
Early the next morning Kelly said, “Mike, I’m going into town and get a couple of things. I should be back before Richard Martin gets here. I’ve run out of milk, and you know how much the girls drink. See you in a little while.”
She drove into Calico Gold, once again charmed by the quaint beauty of the small town. She felt sorry for the townspeople knowing that the murder of Aunt Agnes had them spooked. The town they’d always looked upon as the safest place in the world didn’t seem quite so safe now.
Kelly pulled into the church parking lot, surprised to see a number of cars already parked there. They’d parked behind the church yesterday, and she’d missed the big nursery school sign prominently displayed on the building next to the church.
Ah, that’s why there are so many cars here this early in the morning. They have a nursery school, and that means there will probably be someone in the church business office.
She knocked on the door with the word “Office” on it and opened it. An older woman sat at a desk in front of a computer. “May I help you?” the woman asked, turning towards Kelly.
“Yes. A funeral for my husband’s aunt was held here yesterday. I was wondering if a guest book had been signed by people attending the funeral.”
“Of course, but first of all, let me express my condolences. I was at the funeral and also at the ranch house. I’m so sorry about Agnes. She was a wonderful woman, and I’m also sorry for what your husband must be going through. What happened with his cousin was horrible. To be grieving and then have his cousin publicly accuse him of being responsible for Agnes’ murder was unforgiveable. He certainly didn’t seem to be grieving. I’m just glad Agnes didn’t see that. What can I help you with?”
“My husband would like to see the guest book. There were so many people at the funeral he can’t even begin to remember who was there. I don’t know what your church’s policy is regarding releasing the guest book to the family. Would it be possible for me to take it to him? If you need it returned to the church, I’d be happy to bring it back later today.”
“Oh, that’s not a problem. We usually give it to the family. I don’t know why it wasn’t given to you yesterday. I’
m not sure where it is. Let me go look for it.”
A few minutes later she returned, the book in her hand. “I’m sorry, but evidently we had a woman overseeing the signing of the book who had never done it before, and she put it on the shelf under the podium that was used for signing. Here, it’s yours to keep. I’m glad you thought to ask about it. I don’t know how long it would have stayed there.”
“Thank you so much. You’ve been very helpful. I really appreciate it,” Kelly said as she took the offered book and smiled at the lady.
“Please tell your husband we’re so sorry for his loss.”
“I will, and thank you again.”
Kelly walked out the door and headed towards her car. It took every bit of willpower she possessed to make it to the car without opening the book to see if Richard Martin had signed it. She left the church parking lot, drove two blocks, and pulled over to the curb. There, on the fourth page of the book written with a flourish of self-importance was the signature of Richard Martin.
Finally, we’re getting a break. About time. Better head over to the police chief’s office. Maybe I can get the book to him before he sends those other signatures to Sacramento.
A few minutes later she asked the person working at the front desk in the police station if Chief Robbins would have time to see Kelly Reynolds for just a moment. The young man called the chief and directed her to an office down the hall. On the door were the words “Police Chief.” She walked into an office where two police officers were sitting at a desk piled high with folders. She assumed they were criminal cases, although to Kelly it seemed like a lot of cases for such a small town.
“I’m here to see Chief Robbins,” she said to the young woman who looked up from the desk.
“He’s in that room. Just knock and walk in. He told me he was expecting you.”
Murder in Calico Gold: A Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Page 10