The tech team took pictures of the footprints and determined they were from work boots, men’s size 13. That meant the killer was likely at least six feet tall. From the depth of the prints in the snow they estimated he was of average weight for his height.
The autopsy showed no drugs in Carver’s system. The knife wound was deep, possibly caused by a hunting knife, driven in with much force and some apparent knowledge of anatomy but not necessarily expert knowledge. From the wound the killer would have been taller than Carver and that meshed with the footprints.
That was the full extent of their knowledge. There had been no whispers on the street that any of his informants had heard. No one had seen Carver for months until he turned up at a crash house with a kid he told people was his son.
No one knew where the son was but since he’d disappeared the on same night as his father’s murder, they considered him a person of interest. When Jake Rand called to say the kid was waiting as his home and wanted to speak to the police, Detective Joyner had readily agreed to drive up the mountain to see him. The invitation to stay for dinner was a bonus.
Shaking hands with the young man, Detective Joyner noted Nick was a few inches too short and probably 30 pounds lighter than they believed the killer to be. He took notes as Nick told his story for the third time that day. He asked a few pertinent questions then put away his notebook and turned his attention to his food.
“What do you think, Matt?” asked Jake. “Do you think you’ll be needing Nick anymore tonight?”
“No, no,” answered the Detective. He’d seen the youth was fighting to stay awake. Despite the early hour, Nick had spent too many sleepless nights over the last few weeks. Emma showed Nick to the guest room and the teen went thankfully to bed.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s asleep already,” said Emma, returning to the dining room. “Detective, can I get you some coffee?”
“Call me Matt,” answered the detective. “Yes, I’d appreciate that.”
Emma went to the kitchen as the men discussed the case. “He’ll need to talk to the Sheriff too,” said Matt. “That argument the realtor had with his father had to have been on the same day she was killed.”
“That’s what I thought too,” said Emma, returning from the kitchen. “But what would Sherry Thorne have been doing at the ranch more than a month after the sale closed?”
“I don’t know,” said Matt. “It’s a link between the two though. For now at least, I think we’d better consider their murders related too.”
Jake started to get up. “I’d better call Reggie then.”
Matt stopped him. “Nah, there’s no emergency. Let him have a night off for a change. I’ll call him myself in the morning. He’ll probably want you to bring the kid in so he can hear the story for himself.”
Jake sat down again and the three sat talking for the next hour. Matt rose to leave and thanked Jake and Emma for their hospitality. Jake walked the detective to his car. “About this idea Nick has that somebody is trying to kill him. How much of that is his imagination?”
Detective Joyner opened the door to his unmarked car. He looked up at the clouds that were starting to block out the stars. “Storm’s coming in,” he observed. He looked at the house then looked at Jake. “I doubt you’d have anything to worry about. There’s no indication that the killer saw Nick. His footprints go from the body and straight out around the building. No stops, no turning around to see if he’d been observed.”
“Sometimes a bad driver is just a bad driver,” concluded Jake.
“Something like that.” The detective got into his car and shut the door. He turned on the ignition then rolled down the window. “Never hurts to keep an eye out though,” he said.
Jake waved his agreement and stepped back to let the detective swing out and around the driveway. He stood thinking, watching the tail lights get smaller. Snow started drifting down around him and he remembered the storm the night of Sherry Thorne’s death.
Emma had a point. Why was the realtor at the ranch after the sale had closed? If neighbors had seen Nate and Nick searching the property, they would have recognized them. They would have assumed the father and son had permission to be there since the new owner had not taken occupancy yet.
If she had an appointment in Casper that day, she might have decided to take the opportunity to drive out to the ranch. Jake liked that idea. She had wanted to develop a long-term relationship with The Gerecht Group so they would buy other properties.
She might have decided to check on the ranch since she must have known the investors would not be living on site. If she had driven out to the ranch and found Nate there searching the grounds with his metal detector Jake could well understand what she and Nick’s father had been arguing about.
Nate had packed up and left the very next morning, treasure still undiscovered. Perhaps Thorne had threatened to have him cited for trespassing. If that was the case, Jake thought Sheriff Newsome would be disappointed by Nick’s story. The connection between the two cases seemed to be no connection after all.
13
Sheriff Newsome sat in his squad car and stared at the City of Casper, spread out below him. Whenever he had cause to drive up Casper Mountain, no matter what time of year, he always made a point to stop at the scenic overlook.
It was a spectacular view. On a clear day it took his breath away. Summer, spring and fall the overlook was crowded with locals and tourists alike. This was on everyone’s list of “must see” destinations when friends or family visited.
On this January day, the sheriff had the overlook to himself. Last night’s snow had left the twisting mountain road just slick enough to discourage idle day-trippers. That suited him. Today he wasn’t here for the view. Today he needed time to think.
Detective Joyner had dropped in on Sheriff Newsome as he was pouring his first cup of coffee that morning. After he left, Reggie had called Jake Rand and arranged for him to bring Nick into the office for questioning.
Reggie had asked Nick several questions about the argument he had witnessed between his father and Sherry Thorne. The teen had no more to offer than what he had already said.
He’d asked several questions about the night on the bridge. He asked where Nick had been standing and whether he had caught even a glimpse of the killer’s face. Nick insisted he had not been paying attention to the man whose face had been cloaked in shadow, but to his father.
He asked Nick what his plans were for the future. The young man had answered that he hoped to return to Sheridan Community College for the spring semester that would be starting next week. He’d agreed to make sure that Jake had his contact information if the Sheriff needed to reach him for any reason.
When the attorney and his once-again client left his office, Reggie had stared blankly at his computer for a time. Then, throwing on his jacket, he told his secretary he was going out and she could reach him in his car or on his cell.
He’d driven to the overlook more out of habit than any desire to see the view. Now that he was here, he found the familiar scenery calming. Sherry Thorne’s killer was as elusive as ever.
He considered Jake’s supposition that she had been in Casper for an appointment and had driven out to check on the ranch, only to discover Nate there and throw him off the property. He nodded to himself. That sounded reasonable.
That there had been a witness to Nate Carver’s murder had thrown him at first, but Carver’s son hadn’t seen anything that could identify the killer. Detective Joyner had told him the case was cold and all the evidence they’d collected to date amounted to nothing. Joyner had wondered if there were a connection between Thorne and Carver but Reggie felt sure he would accept Rand’s theory.
Reggie fished in the patrol car’s storage compartment for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He gave up smoking at least once a year but it never seemed to last for long. His job was stressful – hell, his life was stressful. If the “Big C” got him in the end, well there were wors
e ways to go.
He climbed out of his patrol car and lit up a cigarette. He sat on the rock wall that served as a safety rail and inhaled deeply. He was going to have to call them, but it could wait.
A car drove by headed down the mountain and Reggie raised a friendly arm as the owner waved at him. Damn, he liked Casper. He’d come here fresh out of the police academy in Douglas and he’d never wanted to live anywhere else.
Life had been good here. He fished the river in the spring and had an ice fishing hut on the lake in the winter. The den in his house was filled with pictures and mounted antlers of antelope, deer and elk. He’d even thought about putting in for one of those new wolf licenses, but he’d been too busy during the season, which had ended December 31.
His personal cell phone chirped in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the number, though he knew who it would be. He didn’t understand how they always knew things before he could tell them but they always did.
Reggie thought about letting it go to voice mail but that would just be delaying the inevitable. They would call again. They always did.
He thought about the first time they called. He didn’t know how they found out about him but they had him dead to rights. At first, the things they’d asked him to do seemed a fair trade to keep their information from reaching the state Attorney General.
Every phone call asked for something more, something that pushed him one step further out of his comfort zone. He’d tried to break away from them. He’d stopped answering their calls, stopped doing what they asked of him. He dared them to go public – he told them he would rather face the public humiliation and jail time.
They upped the ante. They sent him a picture of his three year-old niece. Reggie recognized the room in his brother’s house, the child asleep in her own bed. The threat was clear and Reggie had started taking their calls again.
He flipped open the phone. “Yeah,” he said, then just listened. He flipped the phone closed a few seconds later. Absently, he put the phone back in his pocket and stared out over the town, not seeing it. He wondered again how they were getting their information.
He threw his cigarette into the snow at the base of the rock wall and stood up, stretching. Damn, he liked Casper. It was going to be hard to leave.
14
After meeting with the Sheriff, Jake dropped Nick off at the Department of Family Services office of his former probation officer. The young man hoped with her help to pick up his studies in Sheridan. If it were too late for this semester, he’d told Jake, he would get a job and work until he could go back in the fall.
Jake told Nick to walk over to his office, which was nearby, as soon as he was done. “If nothing else,” he told the teen, “you’ll be giving me a good excuse to go home early.”
Jake found an overflowing in-box waiting for him when he got back to his office. He’d been so preoccupied with this case he’d been neglecting some of his other work.
He sorted through the contents, putting items that could wait in one pile and items that needed immediate attention in another. The inevitable junk mail he dropped straight into the trash. Once sorted, the piles didn’t look quite as intimidating. Jake picked up the first item on his “do now” pile and was soon lost in his work.
Emma had a full schedule of clients. Kristy had scheduled 50-minute appointments at the top of the hour, every hour, with only a break for lunch. She knew Emma didn’t usually see so many clients back-to-back, preferring to have time to complete her case notes for one client before reviewing her notes for the next, but it couldn’t be helped. Clients who’d been rescheduled could not be put off twice, that too was Emma’s rule.
After Emma’s last client in the morning stopped at Kristy’s desk to schedule her next appointment, she’d locked the door for lunch and knocked on Emma’s door. Emma looked up warily as Kristy came in, fearing a client had arrived with a crisis that needed immediate attention.
Kristy held up a white bag and Emma leaned back in her chair and smiled. “Chinese food! Kristy, you are a mind reader.”
Her assistant laughed and put the bag down in the space Emma had quickly cleared on her desk. She had a second white bag with her own lunch and two diet sodas. She gave one to Emma and sat down in the chair across from her to enjoy her lunch.
“I noticed you forgot to bring anything when you got here this morning and I knew you’d never have time to go out,” Kristy explained, “so I called and had lunch delivered.”
“Remind me to give you a raise,” said Emma, opening her white bag to find beef with broccoli and hot & sour soup, her two favorites.
“You already did, didn’t you notice when I gave you the financial reports?”
Emma giggled. It was a long-standing joke between them. “Hope it was a good one.”
“Not too bad,” admitted Kristy, “but I could make it a really good one if you’re that happy.”
“Hmmmmm,” mused Emma, “maybe next time.” Kristy laughed and the two chatted amiably as they ate their meal.
After lunch the flow of clients began again and Emma had no time even to return Jake’s call when she noticed in between appointments that he had tried to reach her. He hadn’t left a voice mail or called her office. That was a little odd, thought Emma.
She called Jake as her last client walked out the door but there was no answer at his office or on his cell. She called home in case he’d left his office early so Nick wouldn’t have to sit in the reception area reading old “Field and Stream” magazines, but the voice mail picked up there too.
She locked her office and hurried to the car. As busy as she’d been today, she hadn’t noticed it was snowing until one of her clients mentioned it. The wind made the snow feel colder and Emma was thankful when her car’s heater kicked in and she could no longer see her breath.
Jake listened to Emma’s voice mail message but hung up without leaving a message. He knew she had a heavy caseload today and he hadn’t really expected her to pick up. Maybe he’d surprise her by fixing dinner, he thought.
Nick returned after a couple of hours, reporting that he and his former PO had managed to get him back into school. She would drive him up to Sheridan tomorrow and help him find an apartment because his spot in the dorm had already been taken.
“Congratulations!” said Jake. “I’m proud of you taking action to get your life back on track.”
They stopped at the grocery store on the way home, buying food for a celebratory dinner. Jake stopped in the bakery and let Nick pick out a ready-baked cake. He sent the young men off to stock up on sodas and asked the baker to write a special message on the cake and put it in a windowless box.
Leaving the store, the two men were forced to hold tight to their bags. Casper’s notorious winter winds clutched at their purchases and threatened to steal the bags from their hands.
As Jake navigated the road up the mountain, the snow started. Not the pretty, snow globe snow Emma was so fond of but a hard snow driven by that relentless wind. He hoped she was able to get home before the roads turned icy, Jake thought, as he pulled off the highway and stopped at the mailboxes.
Turning into the drive he was surprised to see the sheriff’s department cruiser parked next to the fence. “What are the cops doing here?” asked Nick. Jake had been wondering that himself.
They parked in front of the house and Jake gave Nick his key so he could open the door. Jake waited for the officer, who was getting out of the cruiser now that they were home. Nick grabbed the key and the bags, leaving the cake box in the back of the car at Jake’s instructions, and headed quickly out of the wind and cold.
“Well hello Reggie!” Jake greeted the sheriff as the man got close enough for him to recognize his face. The sheriff was hunched over in the wind, trying to stay warm as he walked. “Surprised to see you so soon, did we forget something?”
“Let’s go inside out of this damned cold,” responded the sheriff. Jake agreed and ushered the sheriff into the mudroom. The sudden
quiet when Jake shut the door on the storm was a relief and both men stamped snow off their shoes and hung their coats on metal hooks before stepping inside the house.
Nick had turned up the pellet stove and a small fire was leaping to life, promising warmth would follow shortly. The teen was in the kitchen, when the men entered, emptying the grocery bags and putting things away as best he could. He looked up as the sheriff greeted him and tried to return his hearty handshake. Like many former delinquents, Nick was still a bit uncomfortable around lawmen.
Jake thanked Nick for his help and put on a pot of coffee. “What can I do for you, Reggie?” he asked. “Hope you haven’t been waiting out there too long.”
“A while,” said the sheriff. Jake looked closely at the man. He was rarely so taciturn.
“Something wrong, Sheriff?” asked Jake.
Reggie sighed. “Just gotta do something I don’t really feel like doing, that’s all,” he answered at last.
Nick shuffled nervously behind Jake. In his experience, police officers usually said that kind of thing before they arrested him. Jake heard the boy moving uncomfortably. “What would that be?” he asked.
Reggie said nothing. Instead, he walked to the wall where Emma had hung frame after frame of pictures. Friends, family, vacations, beautiful scenery and smiling faces looked back at him. “Emma still at work?” he asked.
“Yes, she had a packed schedule today,” answered Jake. “Nick and I took off a little early so we could get home and make dinner to surprise her.”
Jake poured coffee for himself and Reggie, wondering what it was that was bothering the sheriff. He didn’t know Reggie well, but he’d seen enough of him since finding the body of Sherry Thorne to sense that there was something eating at the man.
Jake took Reggie his coffee and stood next to him, looking up at the wall of pictures. “Did some new evidence come up?” he asked. “If you needed to ask Nick some more questions you didn’t have to come all the way out here. We would have come to you.”
Linda Crowder - Jake and Emma 01 - Too Cute to Kill Page 7