Текст книги "A Treasure to Die For"

Автор книги: Richard Houston

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

“Maybe we better go sit on the deck,” I answered. “It’s a long story.”

He glanced at his Rolex then looked over at Fred the same moment Bonnie let go of his collar. I thought Wilson was either going to spoil his pants or make a run for his car when Fred went over to sniff his boots.

“Maybe it’s your boots he doesn’t like,” Bonnie said. “That’s snake skin isn’t it?”

“Crocodile. They’re Ferrinis,” he answered, sounding relieved when Fred lost interest and went to check out his SUV instead of attacking. “I’m supposed to meet the bookstore owner at eleven, so if it doesn’t take too long, I’d love to hear what you were doing at Appleton’s.”

***

“This is a fantastic view you have. Is that Mount Evans?” Wilson asked, pointing toward the west once we were on my back deck. For a guy who was in a hurry a minute ago, he surprised me with his small talk. I had expected him to come straight to the point and ask why we were at Appleton’s again.

I didn’t have a chance to answer. Bonnie was in the kitchen with Fred and yelled through the open door, “Would you like coffee, Paul? Jake doesn’t have anything cold to drink.”

Old habits are hard to break. She was going through my refrigerator looking for the beer I used to stock by the case. I could have told her it was empty, but didn’t think Wilson needed to know.

“No thanks. I’ve had my two cups for the day,” he answered, unconsciously tapping his index finger on the deck table.

“So what brings you up here, Paul?” The annoying rat-a-tat-tat stopped.

Wilson stroked his goatee the way one would pet a cat, exposing a yellow nicotine stain between his index and middle finger. “Well, I remember at the signing, Ms. Jones mentioned you had a copy of Tom Sawyer, and I was wondering if I could look at it. You see, I’m a collector of rare books. Well actually, a dealer; I buy low and sell high. I would starve to death as an author if that was my only income.”

“Isn’t your book a best seller? I would think you made enough to retire.”

“You wouldn’t believe how many people think that. My publisher only pays twice a year, and the first payment won’t be enough for a single car payment after they deduct their expenses and my advance.”

“Wow, that’s terrible.”

“Live and learn. Next time I’ll skip the whole agent publisher route and do it myself. A lot of traditional authors are doing that now and making a fortune.”

He was no longer looking at me. His eyes had drifted upward as though he were seeking confirmation from someone in heaven “Oh, well. I still have my day job. Speaking of which, could I take a peek at your copy of Tom Sawyer?”

“I had a copy. Appleton stole it from me nearly two weeks ago.”

Wilson reached inside his sport coat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, then looked up at me. “I’m sorry to hear that. I would have paid dearly for a first edition. Do you mind?”

“Yes, he does.” Bonnie had joined us on the deck, holding a makeshift tray with three cups of coffee. “Jake doesn’t smoke and doesn’t like it when I do, so why don’t you have a cup of coffee instead.”

I don’t have a serving tray and was surprised to see she had improvised with an old cookie sheet I didn’t know I owned.

“Thank you,” he said, putting the cigarettes back into his jacket while keeping one eye on Fred. “I suppose another cup won’t hurt.” His fingers went back to beating my table when he must have realized Fred was more interested in the cookie sheet than taking a bite of him. Wilson’s tapping started with his little finger then quickly tapped each one in succession until he got to his index finger. It was really getting to me.

The tapping stopped abruptly. “How did you know it was Appleton who broke into your house and stole your book?”

“I didn’t at first. It wasn’t until I saw his face on TV after he’d been found dead in his truck.” It was a complete lie, of course. I wasn’t about to confess to breaking into Appleton’s before he was found dead.

“Is that why you were there, the day I drove by? To get your book back?”

“And some other stuff he took.” He didn’t need to know it was our second trip, and we were there to remove evidence of our first visit.

“What about you, Paul?” Bonnie asked. “What were you doing there?”

Wilson had begun to tap again, but stopped long enough to answer Bonnie. “I wanted to make another offer for his book. He turned me down the first time I called, so I was hoping he had a wife or girlfriend who might sell it to me.”

Bonnie’s eyes grew large, “You called him? How did you… Oh, the guest list.”

Wilson smiled, and went back to stroking his goatee. “Yes, he put his number, but not his address on the list. I had a heck of a time putting a name to the face at the book signing.”

I jumped in before she could ask another question. “Then why did you leave? I mean, if you drove all the way up there from Parker, why didn’t you knock on his door instead of letting Fred chase you away?”

Fred raised his head at the mention of his name, but laid back down when Bonnie spoke. “How do you know that, Jake? How do you know he lives in Parker?”

Wilson looked like he was about to ask the same question, so I spoke first. “His bio on the book jacket. It said he lives in Parker, Colorado with his two cats. Maybe that’s why Fred doesn’t like him. He must smell the cats.”

I took a sip of my coffee before getting back to my little interrogation. I felt like I must have been a cop in a past life. “So why did you drive off, Paul?”

“Your dog spooked me.”

Everyone turned to look at Fred who had gone back to sleep at my feet. He looked as vicious as a wooly caterpillar. I tried my best to keep a straight face. What kind of sissy was this guy?

“Of course, I didn’t know it was your dog at the time. Nor did I know he was a Golden. All I could think of was being attacked by a pit-bull. I didn’t need another copy of Tom Sawyer that bad.” He looked down at his coffee then added, “Would you happen to have any cream and sugar, Miss Jones?”

Bonnie smiled and got up to go back inside. “I saw some milk in there, but I know Jake doesn’t use sugar. His wife made him give up anything that could aggravate his diabetes.”

“I don’t have diabetes, Bon.”

“No, and she wanted to make sure you didn’t catch it either. Isn’t that why you quit drinking?” There was no sense telling her diabetes isn’t a communicable disease. My interrogation was falling apart.

Wilson looked like he was enjoying our little discourse on my lack of sugar in the house. “I know what you mean; it runs in my family too. I think the milk will be just fine.”

“She really looks out for you, doesn’t she,” he said after Bonnie went to fetch the milk.

“I guess so. Ever since my wife died, she’s been watching out for me and Fred. Sometimes I don’t know how I would have managed without her.” I caught myself before getting too melancholy. Wilson was obviously making small-talk again for his tapping began again the moment Bonnie left us.

Once more, the tapping stopped abruptly. “Just between you and me, Jake, were you planning on stealing your book back?”

“Like I said, it’s a long story. I had a run in with the creep after he stole my stuff. Fred and I spotted him at the hardware store when I was buying a door to replace the one he broke. That’s how I knew for sure it was he who’d broke into my place. So, yes, I was prepared to do the same to him if it came to that, but we didn’t have to. His door was wide open when we got there.”

“Unless you want cottage cheese in your coffee, you’re going to have to go without that milk,” Bonnie said, returning empty handed.

Wilson had been about to say something before Bonnie interrupted. He looked up at her blankly with his mouth still open. Luckily for him we rarely had seagulls this far from open water.

“I think she’s telling us my milk is sour. Sorry, Paul, the power was off for a few days after that last storm.” Another lie, but again, he didn’t need to know Excel had shut me down last month until I paid their ransom and had the power restored.

“Oh. Well, thank you, Miss Jones, but I do need to get going. I wasted too much of your time already,” he said, rising from his chair. “There is one thing I do need to ask before I leave, the reason I came here in the first place.”

This, I thought to myself, is where the salesman does the bait and switch. “Sure, Paul. Shoot.”

He paused long enough to choose his next words carefully while stroking his goatee. “Evidently, those kids who fell to their death thought they’d solved the riddle.”

“Then there is a treasure?” Bonnie cut in. She was pretty sharp for being sixty-nine. I hadn’t caught the contradiction, but Wilson did.

“In the original news article. All I did was copy it to make my book more interesting. I really didn’t believe it.”

He cleared his throat before continuing. “Have you heard if the Park County Sheriff found anything in their backpack that might indicate the kids were searching for the treasure? I heard from a friend of mine who works for the county that you guys are some kind of key witnesses.”

Wilson caught me off guard. I wondered if he suspected we were up there because of the code we found in Appleton’s cabin. “No, they haven’t told us anything,” I said, hoping he didn’t perceive my fear.

If he did, he didn’t let on while looking at his watch. “Well, Jake, I guess I’m wasting your time and mine. I’m sorry about your copy of Tom Sawyer. I didn’t know about your burglary.”

He turned to Bonnie, and offered his hand. “Thank you for your hospitality, Miss Jones. I do need to get to my appointment at the bookstore, then back to Parker before the traffic on C470 gets too bad.”

“You better let me walk you out,” I said, looking at his boots. “My guard dog might think those crocodiles are out to get him.”

Fred was waiting by the door. He started to growl until I told him to hush. He let Wilson pass then followed us to the car.

Wilson handed me a business card before getting into his SUV. “I’d appreciate any information you get on those kids. It might help if the parents do decide to sue me.” He quickly powered up his window when Fred gave one last bark.

“You don’t like him much, do you, fella?” I asked, still holding his collar as Wilson drove away.

CHAPTER TEN

I wanted time to think after Wilson left, so I took Fred for a late walk around the lake. To be polite, I asked Bonnie to join us, hoping she would refuse. Hope is for the hopeless.

We were halfway through our walk when I made the impetuous decision to hike the Dedissee Trail to Three Sisters Park. The hike was over a mile long, and I began having second thoughts when Bonnie needed to catch her breath by taking a cigarette break.

“We can turn back, Bon, but we passed the halfway point, so you might be better off if I go back for my Jeep by myself after we get to the park.”

“You can’t drive a Jeep on this trail, silly. You’ll get arrested.”

“Now who’s being silly? I’ll take the highway to Buffalo Park Road. It’s a paved highway all the way.”

She seemed to consider it for a minute before crushing her cigarette in the dirt. “No, I’ll be fine. But I fail to see why you want to go there in the first place. Appleton’s truck and body are long gone by now.”

A mountain bike came whizzing by before I could answer. “Hey, watch it you creep!” Bonnie yelled after the reckless rider.

I’d forgotten how dangerous our hiking trails could be with all the spandex clad mountain bikers from Denver. Luckily, Fred had left the trail when we’d stopped to rest, or he might take off after the idiot.

Two cigarette breaks later, and a half dozen near collisions with jerks who had no regard for hikers, we made it to the parking lot where I found the oil leak I had hoped for. The problem was, I found several oil spots. Any one of them could have been left by the Datsun, but more likely, they were from any of a thousand vehicles that visited the park on a daily basis. Unless I knew exactly where Appleton’s truck had been parked, I might as well be looking for the shortest straw in a haystack. I was explaining this to Bonnie as we sat on a bench watching all the people go by.

Several of them gave her a nasty look when they walked past us. There must have been a no smoking sign at the entrance that we never saw. I think I had read something about the ban because of a high fire danger. Not that it would have made a difference with her, anyway.

“I don’t know what I thought, Bon. I had one of my epiphanies that made me sure the kids were somehow involved. Not in Appleton’s murder, but working with him to find the treasure.”

She stomped on her cigarette butt after another hiker gave her a dirty look. “We don’t know he was murdered, Jake. The news said it was a suicide. I wish you could accept that.”

Then I realized the hiker’s dirty look wasn’t intended for Bonnie. “Oh, he was murdered all right,” I said, walking over to a doggie poop-bag dispenser on the post next to our bench. “And once the medical examiner says so, the cops will be all over his cabin looking for prints.”

I decided to attach Fred’s leash after cleaning up his mess. I didn’t need any more trouble with the law at the moment, but I may have been too late. No sooner had I put the poop-bag in the trash next to the post, than a park ranger pulled up in her truck. I couldn’t help but stare. She had the same red pony-tail sticking out the back of her ranger cap that Julie had the first time I saw her. But that’s where the similarity ended. This gal was a good six inches shorter, and twenty pounds heavier.

She looked at me and Fred then went over to Bonnie. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but there is a no smoking ban in effect for all the county and state parks. I’ll have to ask you not to light up again.”

Bonnie slowly moved her foot to hide her last cigarette butt. “Where did you ever get that idea, Honey? I gave up smoking years ago.”

The cute ranger smiled showing perfect, pearl-white teeth that only came from years at the orthodontist. “Then that’s not your cigarette you’re hiding under your foot?”

Bonnie turned red from being caught in a lie, but continued with the charade anyway and moved her foot. “My goodness! Where did that come from?”

The ranger turned to me, no longer smiling. “Please have your mother go to your car if she wants to smoke, sir. I’d hate to have to arrest a grandmother for starting a forest fire.”

I didn’t bother to correct her on my lineage. “Yes, ma’am. I wonder if I could ask you a question before you leave.”

“Sure. That’s what I do best. I really hate playing cop.” Her attitude seemed to change immediately.

“There was a suicide here a couple days ago. Do you know where the guy’s truck was parked?”

She studied me with the prettiest light-blue eyes I’d seen in a long time. I began to feel embarrassed. I could feel myself being attracted to this ranger who reminded me so much of my dead wife. “Did you know the deceased?”

“It was his cousin.” Bonnie had read my hesitation and jumped in. I was relieved, for I could never think of white lies so quickly.

The ranger’s face softened. “I’m sorry, sir. I’d be happy to show you.”

The three of us followed her to a parking place at the end of the lot. It was the perfect place to commit a murder. The spot was nowhere near a hiking trail, nor was it close to any of the picnic areas. No one else was parked anywhere near it, much like it must have been when Appleton supposedly killed himself.

“This is where I found your cousin last week. I really am sorry, mister…?” she let the mister hang as a question, like she expected an answer.

“Martin. Jake Martin. And this is Bonnie, my good friend and neighbor.”

The ranger looked horrified. “Oh, please excuse me, Bonnie. I just assumed…”

Bonnie chuckled and offered her hand. “We get that a lot. If I had a son, I’d want him to be just like Jake. You couldn’t find a sweeter guy.”

“My name’s Christine, but everyone calls me Chris. And who is this handsome fella?” she asked, bending down to pet Fred.

“That’s Fred,” I answered. “Show her how you shake hands, Freddie.”

Fred sat and extended his left paw while wagging his tail.

Chris squatted down to his level and returned the handshake, using her left hand to match Fred’s. “Aren’t you a smart doggie? I’ll bet you’ve got your handsome owner well-trained, don’t you?”

Was she flirting with me? I saw a ring on her wedding finger when she’d grasped Fred’s paw, so I assumed she used that particular adjective to describe all men. Still, it made me uncomfortable, so I started to change the subject, but Bonnie cut me off. She must have picked up on it too.

“He sure does. Jake would make someone a good husband, he’s even house trained.”

Chris laughed. I couldn’t help notice two small dimples holding the smile in place. “I better get back to my patrol, but if you need anything, you can call the Open Space number posted at the entrance and leave me a message.”

Watching her walk back to her truck reminded me of Julie again. My melancholy quickly faded when Bonnie broke the spell. “Is this what we came for?” She was examining an oil slick in the space next to where Appleton’s truck had been parked.

“Stay, Fred,” I said, letting go of his leash and walking over to Bonnie.

She stuck her index finger in the oil then rubbed it between her finger and thumb. “It’s not engine oil, that’s for sure, and it is red. I wonder if there is any test they can do to match it to the Datsun?”

“How do you know that, Bon?”

“Greg never let anyone change his oil. I remember it was a lot thicker than this. I had a devil of a time getting his clothes clean.”

I bent down and did the same test, only I had to grab Fred with my free hand before he did it too. I’d have to work on that ‘stay’ command later. “Yep, no doubt about it. Only I don’t need a lab test to confirm it. I’m sure it was the Datsun.”

She stood up slowly, making me realize she was in no shape to walk back to my Jeep. “And how did you come to that conclusion, Sherlock?”

“A couple clues, Miss Watson. First, the oil spot is close to the parking curb. That tells me the oil leak isn’t from a transmission, which would be further back, it’s coming from a power-steering pump. Second, it’s fresh. Notice Fred’s paw prints. He didn’t leave any prints when he walked on the other spots. Those oil stains look like they’ve been cleaned by a street sweeper, so they must be much older.”

Bonnie took Fred’s head between her hands, giving him his favorite treat, an ear rub. “Good boy, Freddie. You just cracked another case.”

Fred ate it up. I doubt he knew why he was getting the attention, but he loved it anyway. I didn’t have the heart to tell him the case wasn’t cracked. All he had done was confirm, at least to me, that the Datsun had been here.

Bonnie didn’t argue when I insisted she wait on the bench while Fred and I went back to get the Jeep. I turned around to wave at the first bend in the trail before we would be out of sight. She was too busy lighting a cigarette to notice us.

“You going to call him and tell him about the Datsun, Jake?” Bonnie asked after I picked her up from the park.

“Not yet. Maybe when we give our statements, but then I doubt if Deputy White will be there.”

She gave me her blank look then must have realized I misunderstood. “Not White, silly. Paul Wilson. You said he asked you to call him if you got any new information on the kids.”

“I forgot all about him, Bon. No. I suppose I’ll help him out if the parents sue him, but I don’t see how keeping him in the loop is to anyone’s benefit. We need to concentrate on finding more evidence to keep White off our backs.”

“And Margot. Don’t forget that lawyer of hers,” she added.

“Who can forget Margot?” I said, in a sarcastic tone as I pulled into Bonnie’s drive. “I’ve got to go into town on some personal business. Why don’t you give that sister of yours a call in the meantime and tell her you don’t need the lawyer? He’s going to be nothing but trouble for us.”

Bonnie looked over at Fred who had stuck his big head between us. “I think Fred would have a better chance of telling Margot to back off. Wouldn’t you, Freddie?” she said before giving his head one last rub before heading for her house.

***

I felt bad for bringing up Margot and the statement again. It obviously ruined Bonnie’s mood, but at least she didn’t ask why I had to go into town. An idea came to me on the way back from the park that I didn’t want to share with her, for I knew she would want to tag along. It was bad enough Fred would be in danger; I didn’t need to take a chance on getting Bonnie hurt too.