Death Changes Everything

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Death Changes Everything Page 12

by Linda Crowder


  Both men rolled their eyes at Kristy. “Not bloody likely,” said Brugnick.

  Matt leaned against the windows and stared at Kristy. “I think Steven would have fired him.”

  “But he was doing something good for the employees,” argued Kristy. “Wouldn’t it look bad to fire him for it?”

  “The Hills have always laid off people, then re-hired when prices go up again. It’s the way the industry works. I think you’ve got something there, Morty. Steven would have demanded to know why the layoffs hadn’t started yet.”

  “Lewiston could have stalled him, hoping oil prices would come back up.”

  “Except they haven’t come up. Prices are still dropping. I don’t think we’ve seen a bust this bad since the seventies.”

  “How do we find out if Steven knew about the fund and threatened to fire Lewiston?” asked Brugnick. “Lewiston isn’t gonna tell us.”

  “No he isn’t,” agreed Matt. “That’s the million dollar question right now. Got any ideas?”

  “Check their appointment calendars,” suggested Kristy. “Steven was killed on a Saturday. Did they see each other on Friday? That would make the most sense. Steven had been out of town all week and if you’re going to fire someone, wouldn’t you do it on a Friday?”

  “Except someone broke into his parents’ house on Friday morning. Maybe he re-scheduled.”

  “Or told him to come to the house on Saturday.”

  Matt grinned at Kristy, who blushed. “Perfect! Lewiston goes over to argue his case. Steven confronts him and Lewiston shoots Steven with his own gun.”

  “Except why would Steven’s gun be laying around where Lewiston could grab it?”

  “Maybe Steven was afraid of Lewiston,” Kristy suggested. “Maybe that’s why he bought a gun while he was in Cheyenne.”

  “Because he was planning to confront Lewiston when he got back? Possible, but if he was afraid of him, why put the gun down and turn his back on him?”

  “What if they fought for the gun?” suggested Brugnick. “Remember the shot that went into the wall? Lewiston gets the gun from him and Steven runs for the gun safe that’s in the closet. Lewiston shoots him before he can get there.”

  Matt nodded. “I like it. Let’s see if we can find some evidence to back that up.”

  “Where do we look first?”

  “Let’s start with the secretaries. Ask to see both appointment calendars, let’s say, for the week before and after the murder. Find out when the last time was that they did meet and whether they seemed on good terms.”

  “I’ll see if I can catch the secretaries at home today.”

  “Check with Steven’s secretary first,” suggested Kristy. “From what she told Jake, I’d say Lewiston’s secretary knew about the fund and helped him hide it. At the very least, she turned a blind eye to it. If she thinks the police suspect him, she could make a lot of stuff disappear.”

  “She may have done that already. I agree though, start with Steven’s secretary and go to Lewiston’s if she doesn’t have anything.”

  “The police took the computers, didn’t they?” asked Kristy. “Wouldn’t the appointment calendars have been on them?”

  “Seems they like to do things the old-fashioned way at Hill Energy,” explained Matt. “Tech reports no appointment calendars online or on the hard drives. They didn’t confiscate any paper calendars so I’m assuming those are still at the office.”

  “Sooner I get moving, the sooner we’ll know.” Brugnick carried his empty cup into the kitchen. “Sorry to bust in on you. Thank you for the coffee, Miss Kristy.”

  Kristy laughed, “That’ll do.” When Brugnick had shown himself out, she turned to Matt. “Should you ask Jake to speak to Roger about it?”

  “I want to wait for the final report from the auditor. I want to know how Lewiston managed to set up that fund without the family knowing about it.”

  Kristy started the dishwasher. “I’m ready. Let’s go get you some clothes.”

  ***

  Emma and Grace were enjoying a quiet day at home, a welcome respite from the events of the past two weeks. Jake had taken advantage of the lull to join Jeb for the last day of the elk-hunting season. He didn’t expect to get one, but it was also deer season so the men planned to camp overnight and go first for elk, then for deer.

  Before he left, Jake had filled the pellet stove and the ladies had decided it was time for the first fire of the season. Emma usually preferred to keep the house fairly cool, but Grace’s cancer had robbed her body of the ability to regulate temperature so she felt the cold more than Emma did.

  They were sitting in the cozy living room, Emma with her feet on the sofa, reading a book. Grace was on the easy chair, petting Peachy, who purred on her lap. Sparky slept on the back of the chair, snuggled against the back of Grace’s head.

  Emma came to the end of a chapter and slid a bookmark in to mark her place. She put the book down and yawned. Grace looked up at her thoughtfully. “I don’t think that I’ve seen you just do nothing the whole time I’ve been here.”

  “I’m not very good at it. I set out to relax, but there are so many things I could be doing that I feel guilty. Now that I have the bulbs in, I should be out there putting the covers on my rose bushes before they freeze.”

  “I’m sure it’s beautiful here in the spring.”

  “Spring’s the best time, maybe it feels that way anyplace that gets a hard winter. Winter’s pretty too, but by February, I’m over it. When spring comes, I feel like something inside of me explodes.”

  “Easter, you know, the official observance of it, was placed in spring to take advantage of pagan festivals that celebrated the rebirth of spring. Church leaders felt the people would more readily accept the message of rebirth in Christ if they equated it with spring.”

  “I’d read that somewhere. I don’t suppose the date matters as much as the message.”

  “Hmm.” Grace sat quietly, her hand absently stroking Peachy’s back. “I’ve been thinking more often about death and rebirth. Wondering what comes next.”

  Emma’s eyes burned and she felt a tightness in her chest. She bit back the impulse to tell Grace not to talk this way. The cancer was terminal. No matter how much Emma might wish it would just go away, she knew it wouldn’t. Grace needed to talk and she didn’t want to let her down.

  “I’d never really thought about dying until I couldn’t think about anything else. When I was diagnosed, the thought of dying was terrifying. It drove me to fight when the treatment made me so ill I didn’t want to do it anymore. Then, when the doctor told me this summer that there wasn’t anything else we could do, strangely enough, all I felt was peace.

  “When I’m feeling well, I find my days very precious to me. When the pain is bad, I see what a blessing it will be to be released from it, but it’s a blessing to wake up in the morning and experience another day.”

  “I’m sure anyone would feel the same.”

  “I don’t know, Emma. Each one of us faces death in our own way. Sometimes, when I’m feeling particularly unwell, I find myself wondering whether this is the time that I won’t get better.”

  Emma didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing at all. As a therapist, people always expected her to have just the right words for every situation. At times like this, Emma was reminded just how wrong they were.

  “With all the thinking I’ve been doing,” Grace continued, “I’ve stumbled on a simple truth that I hadn’t seen before. Death changes everything, Emma. The fact that we die makes our lives worth living.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you’re young, life stretches out in front of you endlessly. What will you do with all of that time? How will you make your mark? Every single day of our lives, whether we are five or one hundred and five, is equally precious, Emma. But when you feel you have all the time in the world, you don’t realize that. Think how many of those precious days we simply waste because we don’t realize how few of the
m we have.”

  “Erikson,” said Emma, alluding to psychologist Erik Erikson, whose theory of personality development rested in how each person approached certain challenges at each stage of life. The final stage, Erikson postulated, was the challenge of integrity vs. despair. Some will look back on their lives with satisfaction and others will fall into despair, regretting opportunities lost.

  Grace nodded. “I met him, you know. Brilliant man. Lovely wife. I don’t entirely agree with him, but it made for a lively dinner party conversation.”

  “It blows my mind that you went to a dinner party with someone I only read about in grad school.”

  “It’s a blessing, really, to know that I’m dying. I don’t know the exact day or time, of course, but I know that it will come in weeks or months, not years. Death sharpens my focus. It drives me to resolve things I have left unresolved far too long.”

  “Do you have regrets, Grace?”

  “Oh my, yes. No one gets through life without doors they wish they hadn’t closed or paths they wonder if they should have explored. Thankfully, I’ve been able to re-open one of those doors.” She smiled warmly at Emma. “What about you? Is there anything you’ve been longing to do?”

  “I think much about things I can’t do. I focus on being satisfied with what I have in front of me.”

  “And I know, you think you’re being very wise. I wonder, is it serenity you achieve or are you settling? Cast your eyes to the horizon, Emma. Don’t be afraid to dream.”

  “Well, since we’re dreaming, I guess I’d like to travel. I’d love to see with my own eyes some of the places I’ve only read about. Touch the Great Wall of China or hear the bells of Notre Dame. I could spend a month in New York City or London alone.”

  “What stops you?”

  “A million things. Money, for one. Everybody thinks lawyers are rich, but we’re sure not. Even if I could scrimp and save to be able to afford the expenses of the trip, every day we’re not seeing clients, we’re not making any money. Missing more than a week of appointments is a real financial hardship, and it’s not just me who’d be hurting. I have Kristy to think of, too. I don’t know, maybe someday.”

  “And that’s exactly what I’ve been saying about time being precious. How many of us never realize our dreams because we’re waiting for a someday that never comes? Look at me. I’ve traveled the world, yet what have I seen of it? Airports. Hotels. Conference Centers. Treatment facilities. I don’t know why I didn’t build in time on these trips to stop and look around, but I was always rushing from one thing to the next. What an opportunity squandered.”

  “You’ve hardly wasted your life. Think of all the people you’ve been able to help, directly and indirectly through the people who’ve been influenced by your work.”

  “I do think about that and I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished. My point is, that because our time on earth is limited, we should make the most of every minute. I’ve been blessed to have been given more than seventy years, but even that seems like no time at all.

  “Don’t put off your dreams waiting for someday, Emma. Do something every day to try to make your dreams come true.”

  “And trust the rest to God.” Emma said softly.

  ***

  Kristy pulled into Matt’s space in front of his apartment. She put her arm around his waist to steady him and walked the short distance to his door. As Matt unlocked it, a slip of paper fluttered to the ground. He bent to pick it up, but grimaced.

  Kristy scooped it up and read it aloud, “Mr. Joyner, the car you reported was in your spot again so I’ve had it towed. Hopefully this will not be an issue in the future.” It was signed by the building manager. Kristy looked up at Matt. “Someone’s been parking in your spot?”

  “Yeah, three times. Once after I’d left a note on his windshield.”

  “That’s annoying. I’m lucky you have to know the code to the gate under my building or I’d never get to use my space. You know what parking is like downtown.”

  “Nobody ever seems to park in the police lot.”

  “Gosh, I wonder why,” Kristy said sarcastically.

  Matt gave her a kiss on the cheek and went into the bedroom to change into fresh clothes and pack a bag. Kristy wandered into the kitchen and idly opened the refrigerator door, shaking her head at its bachelor contents. Closing the door, she smiled to see the magnet with her work phone number that she’d given Matt when he first asked her for a date. She traced the edges, smiling to herself, then she noticed the piece of paper beneath it.

  “Matt? Is this the car that was in your space?” she called.

  Matt came out of the bedroom and tossed an overstuffed gym bag onto the chair in the dining area before joining Kristy in the kitchen. “That’s the one.” His arms circled her waist and he rested his chin on the top of her head, following her gaze.

  “It’s a white Camaro. Did it have black stripes, do you remember?”

  “I don’t.”

  Kristy made a face at him. “And you the trained observer.”

  “It was late and I was tired. At least I wrote down the plate number.”

  “Let’s go talk to the building manager.”

  “C’mon, there are a million white Camaros, you heard Morty.”

  “Then we’ll knock another one off the list.”

  Matt tossed his bag into the back seat of Kristy’s car before walking with her to the office. Saturday was a busy day, with people making appointments to view apartments or people just stopping by to see if there were any vacancies.

  They were happy to catch the manager unlocking her office, having just returned from showing an apartment. She ushered them in and when Matt told her why they were there, she pulled a folder from a metal filing cabinet. “I keep a record of every car I have to tow.”

  “I imagine people come here looking for their car when it’s not where they left it,” said Kristy.

  “Sometimes. Believe me, in my line of work, I’ve been called every name in the book and all because I have the nerve to expect people to pay their rent on time and obey a few simple rules.”

  “That’s insane.”

  She shrugged. “All in a day’s work. This used to be a really nice complex when I started working here. Then the owners sold it to some big out-of-state investment group that hasn’t put a dime into it in years. You should know,” she said, looking at Matt. “You’ve been here even longer than I have. Here’s the car.”

  Kristy leaned over and read the form as Matt held it. The Camaro was white with black stripes and had been towed on Wednesday morning. The last time anyone had seen the car they were looking for was the previous Saturday at Steven Hill’s funeral. Her heart started to beat a little faster. She looked at Matt, whose expression was blank.

  “Could I get a copy of this?” he asked, handing it back to the manager.

  “Sure.” She went into a room in the back and returned with a copy, which she handed to Matt. The original, she returned to the file folder.

  “Did anyone come in asking about this car?” asked Matt.

  She shook her head. “There’s a sign in the lot with the tow company’s phone number. Most people just deal with them directly.”

  Once they were on their way to the tow company, Kristy asked Matt how he could be so calm. “I wanted to jump up and shout when I saw that form and you just sat there looking like it was no big deal. Remind me not to play poker with you.”

  “I’m excited, can’t you tell?” He smiled at her frustration. “Look, it might be our mystery woman’s car, but it probably isn’t. There are just too many cars like that on the road for me to get excited about this one until we see it.”

  “If it’s still in impound, that would explain why the police haven’t spotted it yet.”

  “Agreed, but if it is her, why would she be at my complex?”

  “Maybe she knows someone there.”

  “Someone who should have told her not to park in my spot.” Matt showed his badge
to the clerk at the impound lot, who told him the car was still there. Pulling out a grimy binder, he flipped through the pages until he found the one he was looking for, then turned it around for Matt to see. “Woman came in asking about it, but she didn’t have the money.”

  “Did she leave her name? Phone number?”

  “Yep. Had to. I gave her one of these.” He pulled down a clipboard that was hanging on the wall and put it on the counter in front of Matt. It was a blank legal notice with the towing and daily storage fees and informed owners that if they did not claim their vehicle and pay all accrued fees within thirty days, their car would be sold. Owners were required to give their name and contact information as acknowledgement.

  “When did she say she’d be back?”

  “Didn’t. Just took her copy and left. Didn’t even clean out her stuff.”

  “Can I see the form?” asked Matt.

  “Nope. Boss had somebody break in and steal them all once. Idiot stole his car too, so it didn’t take a rocket scientist to find him. We keep them in the safe now. I put them in the slot just like I do the cash. He’s the only one who can open it.”

  “Well, then, where’s your boss?” Matt was rapidly losing patience with the clerk. His temper was not helped by the fact that he was starting to get dizzy from being too long on his feet. The fact that he was still so weak was frustrating.

  “In Kansas City for some NASCAR race. Won’t be back ‘til next week.”

  “Can you at least make me a copy of this intake form?” There was a stain on the page that Matt attributed to the stack of empty Red Bull cans arranged artfully on a shelf against the wall. He wondered how much of the office’s disarray was because of the absence of the boss.

  “Copier’s broke.”

  Matt took out his phone and called dispatch. “Hazel, can you run me plates and a VIN number?”

  “Matthew Joyner! What are you doing working? You know what the Captain said.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t know he said it to the whole world.”

  The woman chuckled. “Maybe not the world, but certainly the whole department.”

 

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