by Dale Mayer
By the time they’d finished eating, and Wendy was ready to go, Wendy reached out her arms and said, “One last hug.”
“It doesn’t need to be a last hug,” Gabby said.
“Yes,” she said, “if I stay here in Colorado with Meghan, it does.”
“I’m sorry for that then too,” she said. “I didn’t realize I was such a threat to her.”
“Because of the way I feel, you are,” she said. They hugged briefly, and Wendy turned and headed back out the door. As she left the door downstairs, she looked up the stairway where Gabby stood and said, “You’ve got a good deal here, so, if you can make it work, why wouldn’t you?” She continued, “You’ve always wanted to live here. It’s where you seem to thrive. Me? I just want to go home where it’s warm again.”
“And Meghan?”
She hesitated. “I think that’s done too.”
“So let her down gently,” she said.
“I will.”
And, with that, Wendy closed the garage door and walked away. Gabby walked over to the window and stared at her friend as she walked down the street. Now she was more worried about Wendy than ever. Meghan had already attacked Wendy once. What would happen when Wendy tried to break up now? It didn’t bear thinking about. Gabby sent Wendy a message. Hey, just because of Meghan’s tendency toward violence, maybe you should leave and then let her know.
I’ll work it out, she replied, clearly with a hint of mind your own business.
Gabby wished she could do something for her friend, but it seemed like every time Gabby turned around and tried to help something or someone, it blew up in her face.
She sagged into the desk chair with her second cup of coffee, and, as she turned back to look at her résumé, a weird shadow came around the corner of her laptop. It was similar to the one she had seen around Wendy. She frowned, thinking about what she and Damon had seen earlier and waved her hand over and above it. There wasn’t any weird feeling, no sensation here, so she didn’t know what to make of this exactly.
As she moved her hand around it, the shadow slowly dissipated. “What the heck was that?” she murmured. But there was no answer because nobody had seen it but her. Like so much else going on in her world right now, she could make no sense of any of this. She sipped her coffee and decided maybe a nap would help.
As she finished her coffee and laid down, she thought maybe the world would forgive her a few hot tears. She’d not only lost so much about her way of life and her job but she was also now losing her best friend. Nothing would ever be the same between Gabby and Wendy again. At that thought, the tears just poured.
*
As Damon walked from his vehicle toward the house, as had become his habit, he looked up and could see her sitting there, staring out the window, but she didn’t seem to notice him. He lifted a hand, but Gabby gave no sign of any acknowledgment. He frowned at that and pulled out his phone and called her. She jerked and looked behind her. She got up and walked away, then moved back in front of the window.
“Hey,” he said, “I just saw you sitting there, but you didn’t seem to see me.”
“No,” she said quietly. “I just got up from a nap.”
“Good,” he said, “that’s the best thing for you.”
“Maybe.” She hesitated and then asked, “Do you have any news on my boss?”
“Well, I was home, working for a few hours this morning, going over old case files. Then I went back into the office for a bit. I do have Jerry’s lawyer’s name, and I’m about to give him a call.”
“Okay, could you let me know afterward, please?”
“I guess you really need that paycheck, don’t you?”
“I need it in a bad way,” she said.
“Okay, give me ten minutes or so.”
Then he turned and walked inside the house. He dropped the extra files that he had picked up this afternoon and laid them out on the dining room table. Everything appeared to be completely normal in the house, just the way he left it, but he noticed an odd feel to the room, as if somebody had been inside when he wasn’t here. Frowning at that, he went over, put on the teakettle, and checked out the contents of his fridge and freezer, thinking toward dinner. He took out some sausages, hoping they would thaw in time for dinner, then walked back over to the dining room table full of files. He picked up his phone and contacted the lawyer.
“Hello,” he said, identifying himself. “A client of yours was found dead outside his home and bookstore last night,” he said.
“Jerry is an old friend as well as a client.”
“Yes, Jerry, that’s right. At this moment, we do think the cause of death is natural causes, though we don’t have a full report from the coroner yet. We also need to look into his will and determine who is handling his estate. Would that be you?”
“Yes,” the lawyer said. “Actually he made a few changes just a couple days ago.”
“Interesting. Also his employee is wondering if she’ll get paid as usual,” he said. “She’s got a couple weeks pay owed her, I understand. Are you designated to take care of the store bills as well?”
“Yes,” he said, “and Jerry did mention Gabby by name.”
“Oh, good,” Damon said. “Her circumstances have put her in a bit of a bind, so she’ll be glad to hear that, I’m sure.”
“Actually she’s now in his will as well. In a big way too.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“She inherits his entire estate.”
“What?” He sat down hard in the closest chair.
“Yes, he felt like she needed to feel grounded and to put down roots, and she was the only one who had ever truly been concerned about the store, among all the people who he’d hired over the years. So he wanted to leave it to her, since he had no family.”
“Wow,” he said, “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.”
“Well, she’ll also end up getting her outstanding paychecks, so that should make her feel better too. This will go through probate and all, before everything can be finalized and transferred, and there are debts to be paid as well,” he said, “but she should do just fine.”
“Did he lease the space for the business?”
“Oh, no,” he said, “he owned the building. He could have leased out the space to another business if he’d wanted to, but he kept the bookstore open, honoring the memory of his wife.”
“And it has an apartment above it, correct?”
“Yes,” he said, “absolutely.”
“Well, that’ll be more good news for her. Do you want to tell her?”
“Yes, I was just waiting to make sure there was no foul play or anything suspicious about Jerry’s death.”
“Waiting for the coroner on that. The neighbor did see him go to the garbage bin, making a couple trips, and, at one point, she heard a noise and looked out to see him lying in the snow.”
“He did feel like his time was coming,” he said, “which is why he made the changes to the will.”
“And it’s all legal?”
“Yes, of course.”
“So, if Gabby wasn’t supposed to get his estate before, who did he have down to get the building and the business?”
“It was all to be sold and the proceeds to go to charity because he didn’t have any family.”
“That’s kind of sad, isn’t it?”
“Very sad. Once his wife died, not a whole lot was left for him.”
“No, I hear that. That’s good news though for Gabby. If you don’t have her number, I can give it to you right now,” he said.
“That would be great, though I’ll still wait a little bit about the contents of the will,” the lawyer warned.
“That’s fine, but maybe you could set her mind at ease regarding the paycheck.”
“Right, and she’s in tough straits, as I understand from Jerry.”
“Yes, that was her only source of income.”
“He could have done a lot to bring in additional business, but
he just wasn’t interested anymore.”
“I suspect she’ll add some life to the place,” Damon said drily.
“Good. That’s what the business needs.” And, with that, they hung up, and Damon sat here for a long moment, thinking about the implications. It was a hell of a good turn for her, as long as no suspicions were raised about Jerry’s death. The last thing she needed was for somebody to think she’d killed the man in order to get the bookstore, but then supposedly she didn’t know anything about it, at least according to what the attorney had said.
Not Damon’s problem unless it became his problem. And he hoped it wouldn’t. Hoping it could be wrapped up quickly, he phoned the coroner. “Any update on the bookseller?”
“It’s not like I don’t have anybody else to deal with,” he said in a testy voice.
“I hear you. I just heard the contents of the will were changed a couple days ago,” he said, “and I was hoping that there was no conflict of interest or suspicion about to be tossed onto the young woman who’s about to inherit.”
“As far as I can tell at the moment,” he said, “nothing sparks any controversy, but I haven’t finished the autopsy yet, so you’ll have to wait and see.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll give you another day or two.”
“Thank you,” the man said in an overly sarcastic tone and abruptly hung up.
Damon wasn’t sure what to think, but it just had to be waited out. He checked the assessment on the property. His eyebrows shot up. As a commercial property with an apartment above, all of significant size and in a good location, it was worth several million dollars. He shook his head. If Gabby had any idea of all this, he didn’t know what she’d be doing with herself right now.
Damon wanted to ensure that everything was free and clear before she found out. It would just make life way too difficult for her if the town turned on her and suspected she’d murdered her boss. Especially after the other two murders. Not that she’d gained anything from their deaths at all. Or had she? He thought about that for a long moment, then quickly checked into both cases.
He made several phone calls, but, at the end of the day, absolutely nothing pointed to any monetary benefit to Gabby upon the death of those two women. And, with that, he sat back with a sigh of relief and dug into the cold case files.
He could only imagine what Captain Meyer went through some thirty years ago when the same thing happened. Damon didn’t want a repeat of that. And, for his captain’s sake, Damon would love to close the old cases as well. But absolutely nothing in these files revealed anything. Other than the victims’ blood, no forensic evidence was found. All the blood collected had been retested, once DNA testing became more prevalent and accurate, and confirmed it was only the blood of the victims. So somebody had either been extremely careful or had somehow managed to kill these poor women and never got caught. And went silent for thirty years before resuming this cycle, which made no sense to Damon.
Now they had two murders. What would it take to stop this killer before there were three?
Chapter Eighteen
The next day passed in a blur of confusion, sending résumés and waiting. Hour after hour after hour passed, but nothing came of it. Damon was holed up with the cold cases but called throughout the day, if not dropping in at random times too, usually to share a cup of coffee with her.
The following morning Gabby woke up and decided she had to get out of the apartment. It was Friday, and she’d really hoped to go up the mountain this weekend, but who knew if that would even be a possibility. She had no job, no money, and nobody had contacted her about her boss’s death. She got up and had the last of the eggs and the bread. She knew she would need more food soon as well.
After her second cup of coffee, she bundled up and headed outside, happy to see a beautiful sunny day with a bright blue sky. She headed toward the bookstore, her feet automatically taking her in the direction she was accustomed to going. But, as she got there, a big sign in the window read Closed. Nobody was around. She peered in through the window, but it was all dark inside. She groaned. “What am I supposed to do now?” she whispered to herself.
Determinedly, she turned and walked on and then came back and checked that the front door was locked. It was. Relieved and yet also disappointed because she’d love to go inside, even though she probably wasn’t allowed, so she turned and headed to the corner of the block.
As she got to the far side, she turned and came back again, noting she was basically pacing outside the property. And that made no sense either. She had no right to be here; it was closed. Jerry was gone. She had no job and just needed to deal with it and to move on. But why hadn’t she received any requests for work? She knew the ski season was shutting down soon, but surely somebody needed help somewhere.
As it was, she hadn’t heard anything from Wendy in the meantime either. On a whim Gabby called and heard her sleepy friend’s voice answering. She said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think that maybe you were sleeping.”
“Yeah,” she said, stifling a yawn, “I was. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if I could borrow your snowboard so I could go up this weekend. I’m going stir-crazy right now,” she said, “and that at least is free and would get me out of here.”
“Is it safe?” her friend asked, coming awake. “Look what happened to you the last time.”
“Ouch,” she said, “I was trying to forget that.”
“I may never forget it,” Wendy said. “You didn’t see yourself go across that mountain like a crazy woman.”
“No,” she said, “but I experienced it, and I’m trying to forget it,” she said, trying to interject some humor.
“Well, you can have my board,” she said, “but I don’t want to go out and look after you.”
At that, Gabby felt her own back bristling. “I don’t need looking after, thank you,” she said, striving for a neutral tone.
“Well, I didn’t mean to insult you, but I’m kind of scared about a repeat of what happened.”
“I hope not,” she said. “Do you want me to come by your place to pick up your board?” When Wendy hesitated, Gabby said, “Or do you want to meet me somewhere midway between us?”
“Where are you now?” Wendy asked.
Gabby heard rustling in the background, as if Wendy were throwing back bedcovers, and also a murmured voice beside her. Of course that would be Meghan. “I’m pacing outside the bookstore, thinking about going to a coffee shop,” she said.
“Well, you probably need to do something because, unless you expect to get into the bookstore, I don’t think that’ll change immediately.”
“No, probably not,” she said. “It’s just so frustrating. I need my paycheck, and so far nobody’s giving it to me.”
“Did you contact the lawyer?”
“I talked to the detective about it, and he said the lawyer would be contacting me.”
“Well, I wouldn’t give him a chance to wait,” she said. “You’re owed that money, and, as long as there’s any money to pay you, then you should be paid out first.”
“Well, that’s the theory,” she said hopefully. “That’s one of the reasons for going up the mountain for another ski, another day to just kind of blitz. The weather is turning warmer, so I don’t know how much longer the season’ll last.”
“Any luck with the job search?”
“None,” she said, “not even a phone call for part-time or something temporary. Nothing.”
“Because everybody’s winding down probably,” she said.
“Yeah, I just don’t know what to do.”
“Well, I’m likely to be leaving soon,” she said, but her voice had dropped to a whisper, as if to say that she hadn’t told Meghan.
“Well, why don’t you come? Bring your snowboard, and we’ll have coffee,” she said. She felt the hesitation in Wendy’s response, and then Gabby said, “Maybe pick another time. I wanted to go up on the weekend and all, but it doesn’t really matte
r.”
“Well, let me get back to you,” she said, “and I’ll meet you somewhere with the board.” And, with that, she hung up.
Gabby stared down at the phone, as she wondered at a friendship that had to be done on the sly because her partner didn’t approve. But then Gabby didn’t approve of the partner either. Raising her hands in frustration, she said, “What difference does it make?”
Just then a vehicle pulled up and parked in front of the bookstore. A man got out and headed toward the front door.
She raced up to him. “Hey.”
The guy looked at her with surprise.
“I’m not sure who you are,” she said, “but are you related to the bookstore owner?”
“I’m the lawyer,” he said. “Why?”
“Because I was the employee who hasn’t been paid yet,” she said in a rush. “Any chance of getting my money?”
He nodded. “I was coming to do a cash-out and to see what was left here,” he said. “You want to come in? You can show me some of the stuff that I need to know.”
“Sure, I’d love to. I was just out here, feeling wistful about the old place. And Jerry.”
He held out his hand and said, “I’m Nathan Rutledge.”
“Hi,” she said, “I’m Gabby.”
“He talked about you a lot,” he said, and something almost searching was in his gaze.
“He was a sweetheart,” she said. “A little scattered and quite depressed, but I’m really sorry he’s gone,” she said sincerely.
“Yeah, we don’t always get to choose our time, do we?”
“I think if he got to choose, he would have gone a long time ago,” she said. “I don’t think he ever quite recovered from his wife’s death.”
“It happens that way sometimes,” he said.
The door was now open, and she walked in, feeling that wonderful sense of homecoming. “I know the store didn’t have a ton of business,” she said, “but it was very much a place I appreciated being. Jerry could have done so much more with it.”
“Well, as soon as we can get his death cleared,” he said, “I need to talk to you about that.”