More importantly, who was the man who had the map and was close to finding the lost mine?
“Doctor says I’m good to go.” Nickolai jumped off the bed, thankful to be back in his jeans and out of that hospital gown. “The nurse should be here any second with my discharge papers.”
“I overheard something interesting.” Landry shut his room door.
She wore concern as clearly as her shirt. “What?”
“You had a dream vision?”
He smiled. “Ah, you must have heard Ela.”
“The girl with the braid down her back?”
Nickolai nodded then proceeded to explain what she’d told him. “I’m not sure how much of all that I believe, but there you have it.”
“Apparently she believes it, because she was talking to someone about it.”
“Who?”
“Remember the old Indian at the motel?”
He nodded.
“The first night I saw him, he was talking to another man. It’s the same man I saw Ela talking to.”
“What did she tell him?”
“Said that because of your dream vision, that meant someone was close to finding the mine. She also said the map needed to be taken to the mountains and destroyed to appease their Thunder God.”
He shook his head. “That’s crazy, but either way, we’re still going to find that map. Before anyone destroys it.”
Landry didn’t have time to respond before Marvin barged into the room, pushing an empty wheelchair. “I hear you’re leaving us.” He waved a folder. “Do you need me to go over all these discharge instructions?”
“I think I can figure it out.” Nickolai took the folder.
“Well, you have a ride here, so we can wheel you out.”
“Is that really necessary?”
Marvin smiled. “I’m sorry. It’s hospital policy. But I promise not to crash you.”
Nickolai sighed and took a seat. Landry chuckled beside him. “Wanna race?”
Marvin laughed. “I like her.”
Nickolai did, too. A lot. A whole lot.
Once they were outside, Marvin said his good-bye and left them.
“Do you want me to drive?” he asked.
Landry cocked her head to the side. “Do you feel up to it?”
“Of course. I’ve been bored out of my mind having to stay in that bed.” He took the keys and opened the passenger door to the Jeep. “Hey, you got rid of your sling.”
“I realized I didn’t need it.” She climbed into the seat and waited until he’d gotten behind the wheel before she asked, “So, what’s the game plan?”
“I thought we’d run back to the hotel. Talk to Stan and find out why he has a key to our rooms. I’d like to change clothes. I thought we’d run back out to the Superstitions. See if we can find the man with the map. How’s that sound?”
She nodded. “It’s a plan.”
Funny how quickly he’d become adept at including her in his plans. He’d had a lot of time in the hospital to really think about his life. While he loved his job, he had to admit that he was lonely. Really lonely. Being around Landry Parker made him realize that about his life.
His cell rang. He recognized the special ring tone and answered. “Hey, Chris. You’re on speaker with me and Landry Parker.”
She smiled and shook her head.
“Oh. Hey. How’re you doing? Have you been released from the hospital yet?”
In his boredom last night, he’d called his partner and brought him up to speed on the case and everything, and he’d asked for a few more favors. “Just did. Driving back to the hotel. Did you find out anything?”
“Um, do you want me to call you back?” The questions in Chris’s voice were clear.
Landry shifted to look at him, her eyebrows raised in matching questions.
Nickolai chuckled. “Nah, you can talk in front of her.” He cut his eyes over to her. “We’re kind of working together.”
“Really?” The shock in his voice …
Landry burst out laughing. “What did you tell him about me?”
“Horns.” Nickolai snorted.
“Horns?” Chris asked.
“I’ll explain later. What’d you find out?”
“Okay, here you go. First off, Winslet Industries is doing fine financially. Better than fine, so there’s no issue there.”
“Good.” Well, that eliminated motive to kill Bartholomew so he wouldn’t find out money had been embezzled or anything.
“About Phillip Fontenot.”
“Yeah?” He glanced at Landry. She had leaned a little closer to his cell resting on the console.
“No record, aside from a couple of speeding tickets and parking violations. Nothing else. His financials aren’t anything in comparison to the Winslet fortune, but he’s able to make his mortgage.”
“Anything else?”
“Never married. No children. Nothing else on him.”
Then they’d have to take him at face value. “What about Stan Hauge?”
“Married, no children. Financially, he’s sound. Made good investments. Nothing too risky. Comfortable. No record, not even traffic violations. Everyone speaks highly of him. Has a really strong reputation.”
“Thanks, Chris. Anything else you can tell me about the investigation?”
“Very little. Some progress has been made. Ballistics report came back. Winslet was shot with a twenty-two caliber at point-blank range. Fleshing by the wounds show the gun was most likely pressed against his back, right at his heart. Two bullets penetrated him from the back and went through his heart and lungs. Both bullets were recovered from the body in autopsy. No fingerprints or DNA not belonging to the victim were detected.”
Nickolai stopped the Jeep at an intersection. A ball of tumbleweeds rolled alongside the road.
“You didn’t happen to run checks to see if Phillip Fontenot or Stan Hauge happened to have a .22 registered to them, did you?”
“We actually did.” Chris laughed. “Imagine that—the police department knowing how to handle an investigation without the great and powerful Nickolai Baptiste.”
Landry grinned ear to ear, and he smiled as he shook his head. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Yuck it up, buddy. Payback will come, my friend.”
“You don’t scare me. Anyway, to answer your question, neither has any guns registered to them.”
“A dead end.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Do tell.” Nickolai turned onto Apache Trail.
“Bartholomew Winslet had a .22 registered. When we went to inspect it, Mrs. Winslet couldn’t find any of his four registered handguns. Seems they just disappeared. She has no idea where they are.”
“Interesting.”
“No pawn shops have any record of any of them. We’ve run the serials and nothing’s come up. If Winslet moved them, we have no idea where.”
“Have you spoken with Monica Courtland about them?” Landry interrupted.
“No. Is there a reason we should?”
Landry nodded. “She seems to know a lot about Bartholomew and his movements. If he took them to the office for any reason, she’d know.”
“Good to know. We’ll check it out. Thanks.” Chris sounded surprised, which made Nickolai grin at Landry.
Nickolai stopped the Jeep at the red light just before the motel. “Anything else you can tell me?”
“There are some leads….”
Nickolai recognized Chris’s tone. “But you can’t share with me.”
“Right.”
“Okay. Well, if you find anything out you can clue me in to, please call.”
“Will do. And, Nick, give me a call later and let’s catch up.” Translate to mean: call later and give the scoop about Landry.
“I will. Thanks.” Nickolai disconnected the call and pulled into the motel’s parking lot. “Guess that’s that.”
Landry nodded. “Why don’t you go ahead and get changed and cleaned up, then we can try Stan? Just knoc
k on my door when you’re ready.”
Nickolai nodded, anxious to see if anything was missing from his room before he confronted Stan. Had the man been sneaking into their rooms and going through things to find out where they were with the case? Could he be violent?
Could Stan be a murderer?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The rapping on her door was faint. She’d expected Nickolai to bang his arrival, larger than life like the man himself. Landry grinned and opened the door then froze.
Stan Hauge stood on the other side. “Hi.”
“Hey there.” She struggled to not let her shock show on her face. At least she hoped her surprise wouldn’t alarm him.
“May I talk to you for a moment, please?” His face was red, and a thin sheen of sweat coated his upper lip.
This was Stan. Nervous and unsure of himself. Not a threat.
“Sure.” She opened the door wider. “Come on in.” There was no way she could get Nickolai without alarming Stan. Hopefully, Nickolai would show up soon on his own and join in on the conversation.
He stepped inside and sat in the chair by the table.
She glanced outside. No sign of Nickolai. She shut the door, but not quite all the way. If Nickolai came by, he’d be able to overhear their conversation if he didn’t want to come in. Landry sat on the edge of the bed facing the table. “What’s up?”
“I haven’t been completely honest with you, and I probably should.”
“Oh?” She clasped her hands in her lap. Was she about to get a confession? Where was Nickolai?
“It’s about Winifred. And me.” He stared at the floor.
Landry remained silent. She’d learned during her MP training that silence encouraged people to speak more freely and openly than if they were questioned.
“Years ago, Winifred worked in the office with Bartholomew. There were a lot of late nights and long days. We were working to build the business into the empire it is today. It took a lot from all of us—Bartholomew, Winifred, me, even Phillip. We all put in so much time and effort.”
She nodded.
“There were times, many times, when Bartholomew had to go out of town for business. Phillip went with him a lot, mainly to party. When necessary, Winifred had to stay there and work. It was, again, long hours and tedious work. I tried to help as much as I could. This was my job, and no matter what, I’ve always been well compensated for my labor.” He took a deep breath.
Landry remained still, not wanting to distract him from his story. He still looked at the floor as he spoke.
“That’s no excuse, of course. It was just one night, it was late … Winifred and I were alone. We’d been working since seven that morning, not even leaving for lunch, having pizza brought in. We had just finished a big project, one that Bartholomew had been struggling with for weeks. We were exhausted, but pumped because we’d completed it for him. We knew he’d be so happy. We were on a rush of sorts. All the emotions bursting while we were exhausted.”
Landry knew what was coming … had known it since he started talking, but also knew not to rush him. This was Stan’s story to tell, and he needed to tell it in his way, in his time.
“One thing led to another, and before either of us realized what we were doing, we were in each other’s arms on the couch.” Stan lifted his gaze to Landry’s. “It’s the one moment of my life I regret the most. It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made, and I knew it almost immediately. That doesn’t excuse me, or her. We were wrong in what we did. Wrong to my wife and children. Wrong to Bartholomew. Wrong to ourselves.”
Stan’s face had gone totally red, but the sadness in his eyes gripped Landry’s heart.
“We were both so ashamed of ourselves. We agreed it was a huge mistake. Agreed it would never happen again. Agreed we would never tell my wife or Bartholomew.” He shook his head. “For months after, we did the best we could to work together without incident, but it was strained. Many felt it.”
“Bartholomew?” Landry couldn’t stop herself from asking.
“Oh, no. He never knew. He came back from his business trip recharged and rededicated to the business. He dove in headfirst, not really taking stock of anything around him, least of all Winifred.”
Landry tried to imagine how blind you had to be not to see the guilt Stan had to show, especially if he still showed it so clearly all these years later. Her parents had always had such a close marriage. Their love had been so evident … it was what Landry herself wanted. She couldn’t see Nickolai ever being so wrapped up in anything that he wouldn’t pay attention to a woman.
Wait! How’d Nickolai jump into her thoughts in such a context?
Stan coughed awkwardly. “Winifred started working from home more and more, coming into the office less and less. Bartholomew didn’t notice. Phillip did. I never told him what had happened between us, but I’m pretty certain he figured it out.” He rubbed his hands together. “Or maybe Winifred told him.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because Phillip’s been in love with her since before she married Bartholomew. She and Phillip actually went out a few times before she went out with Bartholomew. Don’t get me wrong—once Winifred dated Bartholomew, she fell madly in love with him and that was it for her.”
“And Phillip?”
“He never got over her, I don’t think. Back before our mistake, I’d often catch him staring at her when he didn’t know anyone was paying attention. You could see the love still in his eyes.” He shrugged. “We never had a problem between us, me and Phillip, until he learned about our one indiscretion. After that … well, let’s just say that Phillip has gone out of his way to push me out of the company and away from Winifred.”
Landry tried to absorb it all. “What about Winifred’s feelings toward Phillip now?”
“I think she only had eyes for Bartholomew. She loved him. I know that. But she was friends with Phillip. Still is. I don’t think she could see he was in love with her. But now that Bartholomew’s gone, I don’t know what to think. Phillip showing up here … I’m not sure what that means. I believe he’s still in love with her.”
She nodded slowly, thinking about how Phillip had acted very entitled to information on their investigation. On behalf of Winifred. What did that mean?
“For the last several months, I’ve seen the sadness in Winifred. She loved traveling and was always asking Bartholomew to take time off and travel with her. I’d begun pressing Bartholomew to go. The business is fine. I could oversee the day-to-day operations and bring any problems that needed his attention to him immediately. I wanted her to be happy again. I wanted them to be happy.”
So that was why he’d been pushing Bartholomew, not because he wanted to take over the business, but because he wanted the Winslets’ marriage to be strengthened. Landry could respect that about Stan. He might have made mistakes, but she had no doubt he’d repented and never repeated his sin. She believed he wanted Bartholomew and Winifred to have a good, strong marriage.
“I’m really sorry for not telling you before. I probably should have, because I’m sure you picked up on something off, at least between me and Phillip. I just wish it had never happened. It almost cost me my wife. The guilt nearly did me in, so I had to tell her.” He picked invisible lint off his slacks. “Thank the good Lord she forgave me and took me back, but I still wish I hadn’t had that one moment of weakness. It very well could have made me lose everything.”
“I’m so sorry.” Landry didn’t know what else to say. The pain he’d lived with was evident in both his expression and his words. She felt odd apologizing to an adulterer for the pain he’d endured because of his own infidelity, but she did feel sorry for him. It was clear he made a mistake and regretted it.
“I don’t deserve your empathy, Miss Parker. I know that. I didn’t deserve my wife’s forgiveness, or Winifred’s. I’m very blessed.”
True.
He stood. “Anyway, I wante
d you to hear the truth from me. No matter what might be said, I wanted you to have the facts.”
She stood as well. Now or never, she couldn’t wait for Nickolai. “Speaking of facts, why didn’t you tell us you had copies of our motel room keys?”
His face turned redder than she’d imagined possible. “I’m sorry. It’s actually habit.”
Landry crossed her arms over her chest and raised her brows.
“Whenever I traveled with Bartholomew, I always got a master key for all the rooms in our party. He was the worst about losing his key, and he hated having to notify the front desk. Years ago, he began having Monica request me or Phillip, depending upon who was traveling with him, have a master. It became customary to request copies of the whole party’s room keys when we made reservations. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it until just now.”
“But you know my room was broken into. Why didn’t you mention it then?”
“I did. I told the police when they came by to ask if I’d heard anything.” He glanced around the room. “They said your room was trashed. I’m glad the hotel sent someone to clean it up for you.”
“I cleaned it up myself. My gun was taken, Stan.”
“I’m so sorry. I assure you, I know nothing and heard nothing.”
Landry studied him. The sad thing was, despite his responses sounding so lame, she truly did believe him. She let out a sigh.
“Have you heard from Mr. Baptiste?”
She nodded. “I brought him back from the hospital just before you knocked on my door.”
“Has he heard when his truck will be repaired? I think it’s safe to say we’ll all be relieved when we can leave.”
No, she wouldn’t. Not if it was without the map. “I don’t think they’ve told him yet. He and I have a lead to follow this afternoon.” She watched his face for the slightest reaction.
“You and Mr. Baptiste are working together?”
“You might say that.”
He pressed his lips together. “Interesting.”
“I’d say.” She couldn’t tell if the news was a problem for him or not. At this point, she really didn’t care. What mattered was she and Nickolai were … What, exactly, were they? Friends? Friendly competitors?
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