Fire Mountain

by Vickie McKeehan

  Gemma calmly glanced over at Lianne. “Why should either one of us ever think about having children when those two still act like ten-year-old boys?”

  Lianne poured them both another glass of wine. “How long do you think they’ll be out there?”

  “My guess is until one of them trips over the garden hose,” Gemma said, unmoved by the roughhousing. To prove it, she picked up her wineglass and went on with her conversation. “What if you turned that space next door into a pottery studio where people could make their own ceramics? They’d come in, work the clay, decorate their creations, then hang around to drink our coffee and eat our chocolate.”

  “How much do you think it would cost for the kiln?”

  Gemma raised a brow. “There’s already part of a pizza oven in there. It could probably be converted into what we need.”

  “I like the way you think.” Lianne clinked her glass with Gemma’s. “That idea might just be the one that sticks.”

  Gemma glanced out into the backyard where her husband was about to tackle his brother near the edge of the garden. She jumped up and darted to the door, shouting, “Watch where you’re going. Keep away from the gardenias. Stop that. Guys, you’re about to trounce Marissa’s prize roses. Stop it. You’re setting a bad example for the dogs.”

  Behind her, Lianne roared with laughter. “So much for keeping calm, cool, and collected. Should we put them to bed without dessert?”

  “Now they’re both muddy,” Gemma grumbled. “Now the dogs are getting into the act. Look at them roll around in the dirt.”

  “Luke’s not getting in the car with me like that. He’ll have to take a shower here.”

  “I have a better idea. The garden hose is right over there.”

  Lianne snickered with delight. “What are we waiting for? Let’s do it.”

  11

  “Her name is Bethany Taylor. She’s the CEO of her family’s Oregon technology company and sits on the board of a list of charities as long as your arm.”

  Lando sat in the mayor’s office updating her on what they’d discussed the night before over dinner.

  Gemma was elated at the news. “See? That’s all you have to do is drop her name to Zeb and wait for his reaction. If he looks like he might panic, then we know for sure Leia shouldn’t worry too much about Taylor.”

  “Yeah? It’s that easy, huh? Then you and Luke should do the dropping. After all, leaving this harebrained idea to me means I might blow it.”

  “I’ll ignore the sarcasm for now. We’re doing this to help two people in love, two people we care about, not to create problems.”

  “Best laid plans never mean to create problems, but often do,” Lando pointed out. “Are you absolutely certain you want me to do this?”

  “Not really. But we have to try to help.”

  “I thought we were helping by running off Tiffany.”

  “That’s Friday night. Today, we’ll test the waters with Zeb, see if his relationship with this Bethany remains a thorny problem, something he feels ashamed of, and needs to keep hidden from his wife-to-be. It’s the only way to know.”

  “I so like the use of ‘we.’ Not,” Lando stated as he stood up. “If this damages my working relationship with Zeb, I’m holding you personally responsible. Mayor.”

  “Remember, you love me.”

  “Right this minute…not so much. I’ll text you with the results of your little experiment.”

  “You’re making me nervous.”

  “You should be,” Lando said before walking out the door, dreading the encounter with Zeb. That feeling proved prophetic when the two men met up near the entrance to Long Shadow Stables.

  It was awkward for Lando to even get the conversation going. But Zeb, high on information, didn’t seem to suspect anything out of the ordinary as he updated his counterpart with the news.

  “I talked to several key security people at the casino. All of them agree that it’s damn near impossible to counterfeit chips and not get caught. People have tried and ended up in prison for their efforts.”

  “Maybe Woodson didn’t know that when he approached Painter.”

  “That’s another thing, Painter should know better than to even encourage anyone to try. The odds are high that they’d get caught.”

  “Did you show them the chips?”

  “Sure, I did. They agreed it was a good attempt, but the chips themselves would’ve been spotted as fakes. So, what does that do for our case?”

  Lando could only think of one other option. “Then maybe he was using the chips for something else.”

  “Like what?”

  “Paying off unsuspecting people with them? Selling them at a discount? I don’t know. But maybe it involved a third party.”

  “Sorry. I don’t follow. The chips would be no good to anyone outside the casino.”

  “Unless someone on the inside was swapping them out for the real deal.”

  “Management assures me that would never work, no matter how many movies they make saying it will. But…that’s not to say Woodson couldn’t have found a foreign buyer for them.”

  “Exactly. What if Woodson had found someone who used the very same equipment needed to produce the microchip inside, recreating the antifraud measures that went with the embedded security features? That would include getting them to look like the real thing in terms of weight and appearance. I mean the guy had four aliases. Ask yourself why.”

  “Then he would’ve had to have found a buyer outside the US.”

  “What if Woodson was using his plane to smuggle the chips to a larger port of entry, say Canada or the Port of Los Angeles?”

  “It sounds too complicated. I still don’t see the benefit. How would the operation work?”

  “Once Woodson got the chips to look right, he then sold them to a criminal organization, like say the Russian mob, the mob could send out twenty people to pass the chips in one night and be gone.”

  Zeb’s eyes flicked with genuine interest. “You really think this is what Woodson was doing?”

  “I don’t see it any other way. Because I don’t think he would take the risk himself. But finding a willing, end buyer is more his style. Who better to be the best end buyer but a foreign agent or organization?”

  “Then this could be huge if we could track down the evidence, a gamechanger for both of us. We’d need to find the equipment and the place where it’s all going down.”

  “Don’t forget the person in charge.”

  “I thought that was Woodson.”

  “I don’t think so. Woodson might’ve been the one who cooked this all up, but he had to have a supplier, someone who knew the business in the first place, a reliable contact, then connect with the point person from the foreign entity.”

  “Like a lackey from the Russian mob. Ah, I get it now. So you’re saying there’s someone in Coyote Wells and possibly on the Rez with Russian, albeit foreign ties?”

  “Yep. That’s what I’m saying.”

  “It’s like we’re drowning in an overload of information.”

  “That’s why we need it all sorted out.” Lando glanced at his watch, still more nervous about bringing up Bethany Taylor than talking about a criminal enterprise. “Look, could we grab lunch and finish this conversation over food. I’m starving.”

  “Good idea. Let’s head over to Windhorn’s Grill on the Rez. I’ll buy you a burger.”

  Windhorn’s Wood-Fired Grill was a stylish restaurant that served a full menu. From pizza to tacos to burgers, the owner offered up good food at reasonable prices.

  They found a booth and settled in, ordering a cheeseburger basket that included a soft drink and free refills.

  Lando squirmed in his seat until finally getting up the nerve to pitch Gemma’s plan. “Whatever happened to that woman you had a crush on in college in your freshman year?”

  Zeb stopped in mid-bite, almost choking on his hamburger. “What? Why would you ask me that now?”

  “Because I heard
through the grapevine that she’s been asking about you.”

  “No way. Last I heard Bethany was happily married with two kids. She would never bother to look me up.”

  “I don’t know, things change. Who knows? Maybe you were the best she ever had.”

  Zeb chuckled. “I doubt that. She always held the upper hand and knew it. Me? I was just a young, stupid kid right off the Rez, who followed her around like a lovesick puppy. I was just her flavor of the month, slumming it with an Indian kid for a few weeks, probably to upset her uptight parents. It’s embarrassing to think back to that time.”

  “Did Leia know about this diversion?” For the first time since knowing the man, Lando could tell Zeb looked sheepish and uncomfortable. It took a long time for him to answer.

  “No. That’s why if it’s possible, even though you’re her brother, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to her. What happened in the past should stay there?”

  “You do realize that cuts both ways, right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were pretty hard on Gemma when she came back to town. Remember?”

  “I just didn’t want her messing with your head. That’s what friends are for, watching each other’s backs.”

  “I appreciate that. But I do believe in that thing you just said. What happened in the past should remain there. The past could mess people up in a bad way. High school and college were a long time ago. I don’t see any need to mention this to Leia.”

  Zeb grinned. “I’m glad it worked out with Gemma.”

  “Yeah? I’m glad it’s working out with Leia.”

  “Really?”

  “You bet. I finally get her off my hands and give the problem to someone else. In a little over two weeks, she’ll be all yours.”

  “That’s kind of scary,” Zeb admitted. “Sometimes she’s scary. Lately anyway. I didn’t think relationships were supposed to be this hard.”

  “They aren’t. But what have I said all along? Maybe she’s going through something else entirely.”

  “Like what? She does seem preoccupied and unusually irritable.”

  Lando realized he should backtrack out of this conversation. “How should I know? She doesn’t even like me.”

  “Why is that?”

  “She told me once she didn’t like the way I teased her when we were kids. And she’s never forgiven me for it. Let that be a lesson to you right there. The woman you love holds a grudge.”

  “I can see that.”

  Thankfully, they finished their meal, leaving that touchy subject alone and moved back to Woodson theories, which covered a Russian or maybe Chinese connection.

  “I’m wondering if Woodson thought we were smalltime here and decided it was a good place to carry out his criminal enterprise right under our noses.”

  “He lived here for five years unfettered, so maybe it was,” Lando realized. “But that ended when his plane blew up.”

  “If you consider there’s someone out there who’s infiltrated our little hamlet, throw in the fact they’ve killed to cover their tracks, then we have a serious problem that needs fixing.”

  “And fix it fast before he or she kills again.”

  Later that afternoon, Lando rapped on Gemma’s office door. He stepped in but had to wait until she was off the phone. “Chief Lando Bonner here to give you an update on Operation Zeb.” He gave her a mock salute to top it off.

  “Very funny. How’d it go?”

  “Zeb squirmed a little when I mentioned the name, said the past should be left in the past.”

  “See? Was that so hard?”

  Lando dropped down in the chair across from her. “You have no idea. Difficult and awkward.”

  “But you did it. You went undercover and pulled out the information we needed. Any reason to think you jeopardized your working relationship?”

  “Not yet. But it’s still early.”

  She got up and skirted the desk, shoving the door closed. She plopped down in his lap. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Only because you got me to do what you wanted.”

  “Let me make it up to you.”

  “How?”

  She whispered a suggestion in his ear, then moved to his mouth.

  “You’re on the right track,” Lando acknowledged. They were just about to dip their toe into a bout of office sex when someone pounded on the door.

  “I’m beginning to hate this job,” Gemma grumbled as she got to her feet. Looking down at her husband, she whispered in his ear, “You might want to throw something over your lap to hide that bulge.”

  Grabbing a file folder off the desk, she handed it off to him to use as cover. Snickering her way to the door, she flung it open only to see an out of breath Ansel Conover standing there wringing his hands.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You wanted Elnora and me to keep an eye on Brandt Lewis. We were doing fine until this woman showed up. Apparently, she wanted to know what we were doing sitting across from his house in the car.”

  “I’d like to know that myself,” Lando stated, eyeing his wife. “Was that an official edict from the mayor?” he asked Ansel.

  Ansel shifted his feet and looked from one to the other. “I thought it was.”

  “I can explain,” Gemma began. “I had a good reason. I did. I mentioned it to Lianne, thought it might be a good idea to keep an eye on Brandt, especially if I was wrong. I immediately thought of the book club. The Happy Bookers are always up for an adventure.”

  “We didn’t mind doing it,” Ansel explained. “We rather enjoyed the intrigue until the woman showed up, out of control.”

  “And what if this out of control woman had taken out a revolver and shot both of you dead on the spot?” Lando asked. “From now on, leave police work to the people who get paid to do it. Okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good man. Now go on home and fix yourself and Elnora a stiff drink. Forget about the scary woman.”

  After Ansel had gone, Lando lost it. “How could you do that to an elderly couple, send them out to spy on what might be a dangerous suspect?”

  “I didn’t know about his past or Tiffany at the time.”

  “That’s no excuse.”

  “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’m not sure what I was thinking. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “That’s what you always say and then you do whatever the hell you want.”

  “I get carried away and take the initiative. You did say you wanted my help.”

  “Your help, that doesn’t include putting an elderly couple in the line of fire.”

  “I admit it was a lapse in judgment. But I meant well.”

  “I’m sure you did. But you should check with me first before you do stuff like that.”

  “I will. I’ll stop in and see Ansel and Elnora right now, even bring them chocolate to say I’m sorry.”

  He yanked her down on his lap. “I’m not trying to curb your curiosity, just think before you leap. If you’re unsure, let’s talk about it, discuss it. At least let me in on what’s going on. Look, I need to get my team together tonight and recap both of these cases, bring them up to speed with what I know so far. Because they’re beginning to slowly blur together.”

  “I’d like to help, to make up for that blunder.”

  “Okay, let’s plan to order in and eat with the team.”

  The break allowed Lando to lay out what he knew about Talia’s murder and the Woodson explosion along with the counterfeiting operations. He spent the rest of the afternoon writing it all down on a large whiteboard and rolled it into the conference room to show his officers.

  Gemma had made her amends to the old couple and volunteered to pick up food on the way back to the station.

  While she was gone, he managed to sit back and study what he had. He realized he was still in the theory stage and didn’t much like admitting that. But he’d have to make it clear tonight just how complicated this case ha
d become.

  By the time Gemma got back with supper, his team wandered in and gathered around the table. While the others dug into the takeout cartons spread out like a buffet, he decided it was as good a time as any to come clean.

  “This is all speculation and not exactly quality at that. Let’s review what we know since Monday. We start off with a plane falling out of the sky. We learn the explosion blows up a fake ATF agent. We go to his house and find the body of a mummified female between twenty-five and thirty, hidden away in a trunk that also contains fake coins. According to Tuttle, the woman’s probably been dead for the same amount of time that Woodson arrives in town. Coincidence? I think not. So far, we’ve found a handful of missing women who are around the same age of our Jane Doe. But that’s within a hundred-mile radius of here. If we’re going back five years, it would seem our fake ATF agent brought the woman with him. Maybe she was already dead before getting here, hence the reason she was transported in a trunk.”

  “Transported from an unknown location,” Gemma added. “Could be from anywhere?”

  “That’s the tricky part. Until we nail down more about Woodson’s past, we’re bumping up against a brick wall. So let’s cover what we know. Our dead pilot had the same fingerprints as a man who supposedly died some years back by the name of Peter Olson. At some point, a live Olson becomes Woodson. If that’s not crazy enough, we have to figure out why, why did the man named Olson fake his own death.”

  Lando paused to take a drink from a bottle of water. “Now we move to Talia Lewis, a local resident who marries a man she met online. By all accounts, the marriage is a mistake right from the start because Lewis is a fake and a fraud who’s only after Talia’s money. Talia might’ve caught on to his real motives for marrying her and found someone else. But that’s still a question mark. Because who was Talia’s lover? Did he exist or did she make up an affair? So far, no one’s come forward with corroborating evidence that she was having an affair. But here’s the thing. When the bride ends up dead, enter the husband’s mistress, a woman we all knew back in high school, Tiffany Ringgold. And that is corroborated by Natalie Henwick because she saw Lewis hanging around Tiffany.”