Buried (Twisted Cedars Mysteries Book 1) (18 page)

“Don’t do that, Wade. I was just leaving myself. Thanks for helping me sort my aunt’s books, Dougal.” She slipped shoes on her feet, grabbed one of several cardboard boxes stacked by the door and went out. Dougal picked up the remaining boxes and followed. It all happened so quickly Wade was left speechless.

Suddenly alone, he scanned the room with investigative thoroughness. The dish rack held enough plates for several meals...so she’d probably spent the night. A frying pan…still on the stove, the coffee pot…half full.

The bedroom seemed to be upstairs. But the cushions on the sofa were tousled, and a quilt and several pillows were strewn on the floor.

He kept tracking the evidence, couldn’t stop himself. An empty bottle of wine on the coffee table. He caught a glimpse of pink and ducked his head. Yup, just as he’d thought—a lacy thong mingled with a pair of men’s black cotton briefs under the couch.

“She’s gone. Sorry about that.” Dougal was back, sounding a little breathless.

Sorry about what, Wade wanted to ask. Screwing my girlfriend?

Some men might have slugged Dougal at that point. But Wade kept quiet as Dougal went to the fridge, pulled out a beer and tossed it to him.

“Want to go for a walk?”

Wade pulled the tab. Nodded. They fell into step easily once they’d left the cottage behind. The woods had a calming effect, as did the warmth of the afternoon.

“Look, I’m sorry if you’re upset about Charlotte—"

“Let’s not talk about that right now.” Wade kept his eyes on the trail. He’d been pretty taken aback. He needed time to process what he’d discovered before he discussed it with anyone. Let alone the guy who was sleeping with his ex-girlfriend.

Ex.

Funny to think of Charlotte that way. He felt a pang of sorrow. Knew there were things he was going to miss and that taking that relationship beyond friendship might have been a huge mistake.

“I checked into those records you were asking about.”

A jay squawked from somewhere in the towering treetops. Both men glanced up, then at each other.

For some reason Wade was reminded of the school-aged Dougal. He’d been quiet, dependable, a hell of a student and a pretty mean half-back. But no matter how many hours of the day they spent together, there’d always been something inscrutable in those dark brown eyes of his.

“You found the report that was filed when Shirley Hammond died?”

“Yeah, I did. And there were some peculiar things in there. Like for instance, she hung herself with two silk scarves that she’d knotted together.”

“Were the scarves red?”

Wade didn’t need to pull out his notebook. “Yeah. Pretty weird, huh? If I was going to hang myself, I’d use rope. It’s strong and available everywhere.”

“Was there anything to suggest that someone else might have done it?”

“Not at all. In fact, a reference book was open on the floor nearby. It had directions on how to hang yourself. Trust a librarian to even think of looking in a book for something like that.”

They came across a big tree that had fallen over the path. Rather than walk around it, they both sat on the broad trunk, and took pulls from their cans of beer. An odd congeniality settled over them. It was like they were kids, again, talking over an assignment at school, or a new football play.

“Did the report say who found the body in the library?”

“It was Amos Ward. He’d been installing some new shelving units on the main floor. Forgot his toolbox and came back to the library around closing time. The front door was unlocked, but no one was there. He finally checked the basement and that’s when he found her.”

“Did Amos cut her down?”

“No. He checked her pulse, and then called the Sheriff’s office. Like I told you before, my dad was first responder. I called him this morning, to see if he remembered anything that wasn’t in the report.”

“And did he?”

Wade nodded. “After her death, the Board discovered ten thousand dollars of library funds were missing—funds that Shirley had been responsible for.”

Wade swallowed the last of his beer. He glanced at Dougal, who was watching him thoughtfully.

“I suppose, back then, the missing money might have looked like a motive for the suicide?”

“No one could say for sure, since there was no note. But there was speculation. For the sake of Shirley and her family’s reputation, her brother replaced the money and it was kept quiet.”

“I appreciate your checking into this for me,” Dougal said.

“No problem. So, what do you make of it?”

“Something doesn’t smell right. Seems to be a regular problem in this town.”

“Maybe this town doesn’t have a problem. Could be it’s you. Too much imagination.”

“That’s possible, too,” Dougal agreed.

sitting at the computer
in the kitchen, Jamie checked her email and found a message from Wade. “Can’t find any trace of your dad. He doesn’t have a current Oregon driver’s license. Sorry, Jamie. But maybe it’s for the best.”

Not surprised, but saddened, she turned to Cory and Chester. “Time to hit the shower, kids. We have to meet your dad for lunch in about one hour.”

“Me, first,” Cory said. Chester didn’t argue. He asked Jamie if he could play his video game while he waited for his turn.

“Sure.” When she was alone, she responded to Wade, thanking him for making an effort.

After that, she changed into a blue sundress, noticing as she glanced at the mirror that she was getting a good tan. As she smoothed lotion over the rough spots on her elbows and knees, she thought about the man who had supplied her with her olive complexion, last name, half her DNA, and not much else.

In the letter he’d sent to her mother, he’d sounded keen to talk to his son. Would he be as happy to meet up with a daughter? One he presumably hadn’t known existed?

He hadn’t been spoken of much when she was growing up. Her mother seemed to shrink a little any time the subject of Edward Lachlan was raised. She knew Dougal had been embarrassed for their mom, that she never found a man who seemed to want a long term relationship.

But Jamie thought it was the other way around. It was their mother who wasn’t interested in falling in love again. She went to the Linger Longer to relax and have fun. But she’d given her heart to Edward Lachlan. And that had never changed.

Despite the fact that he’d gone to jail, her dad couldn’t have been all bad. Or why would her mom have continued to love him? The fact that she’d saved his letter proved that she had.

And the fact that she hadn’t thrown it away, even though she knew she was dying, meant she’d wanted Jamie to find it. She hadn’t had the strength to tell her daughter about her father when she was alive. But she’d kept the door open to the possibility that Jamie would find him after she was gone.

“We’re ready.” Chester was at her bedroom door.

She forced a smile. “Let’s get going, then.”

The Rogue River Golf and Country Club had been built on a bluff overlooking the ocean. The drive was only fifteen miles, but they were all uphill on narrow, winding roads. Jamie gave the road her full attention. It had taken more than a few lives over the years, not just Patricia and Jonathan Hammond’s.

When they arrived she was able to park her Miata next to Kyle’s SUV. As they walked toward the clubhouse, she spotted Kyle on the green for the eighteenth hole. His hair seemed even more golden than usual in the afternoon sun, and he looked tall and lean in his powder blue golf shirt and tan slacks.

When he’d sunk his ball, she called out to him. He glanced their way, then smiled and headed toward them, calling something back to his buddies.

“Hey guys. Good timing.” He put a hand on his son’s head, then his daughter’s, before giving Jamie a warm kiss. He smelled like sunshine and grass and she wished they were alone because right now she wanted to be with him in the worst way.

But then his father approached. “Hey kids. Got a hug for your grandpa?”

The kids practically tackled him, but Jim didn’t seem to mind.

Soon they were seated on an outdoor terrace. A server appeared within seconds to take their drink orders. Jamie glanced around the table, feeling a little bemused. These people were all her family now. It felt nice, but also surreal. She couldn’t help but miss her Mom and wish that Dougal were here, too.

They were on dessert, when a group of men in their fifties headed for a table nearby. One of them was Ben Mason, founding partner at the accounting firm where Jamie worked. When he spotted Jamie, he smiled and headed her way.

“Nice to see you here. Have you finally taken my advice and started playing golf?”

According to Ben, it was a necessary skill if she wanted to get ahead in her profession. The business community in Twisted was small and inter-connected. Almost all of them were members here. “Not yet, Ben. I’m having lunch with my family.”

It was so lovely saying that.
Family
. Ben said hello to Jim and Kyle, then Jamie introduced the children. They were amazingly well behaved, not even squirming in their chairs as most children would in such an adult setting.

When the niceties were over, Ben said, “Let me know if you change your mind, Jamie. I’d be glad to teach you.”

“Jamie is too busy for golf right now.” Kyle placed his hand over hers. “When the kids are older I’ll make sure she learns the basics.”

Jamie flushed at his overbearing comment, but said nothing.

Later that night when they were alone in their bedroom, she raised the subject.

“I wish you wouldn’t have spoken to Ben that way. Isn’t it up to me to decide whether or not I play golf?” She sat on the side of the bed, still in her dress, needing help with the zipper but too annoyed to ask.

Kyle pulled his shirt over his head. “You told me you found the game boring.” He took off his watch next and set it on the bureau beside his wallet.

“I do! That’s not the point.”

“Sorry, honey. I don’t get it.” He was just in his briefs now. And though she was still angry, a part of her had to admire how hot he looked.

Maybe he hadn’t realized how his comment to Ben had come across.

“When you speak on my behalf, you make me feel like a child instead of your wife.”

“Are you sorry you married me? Are the children more work than you bargained for?”

“Of course not,” she said, though in actual fact their life together was a lot different than she’d imagined. “I just wish we had more time together.”

He pulled her up from the bed, put his arms around her. “We will. When the kids are older. And at least we have our nights...”

Slowly he worked the zipper down to the small of her back. He slid his hands under the fabric and cupped her ass, pulling her into him…kissing her until her concerns were forgotten.

* * *

Dougal took a few hours to digest the news Wade had provided, sitting at the kitchen table, making notes and integrating the facts with those he already knew. Charlotte’s perfume still lingered in the air of the cabin, but he did his best to ignore it.

She’d obviously been upset that Wade had seen them together. Best let her work out for herself what that meant.

After dinner, Dougal called Stella. “Is Amos home?”

She hesitated. “He’s at the workshop.”

“Is there a phone in there?”

Again there was a pause. Dougal realized she wasn’t happy about this call. Was it because she didn’t want him to speak to her husband? But finally she responded by giving him Amos’s cell phone number.

“Thanks, Stella.” He disconnected then redialed.

“Hello?” Amos sounded wary.

“Hey, Amos. It’s Dougal.”

“I know. Your name came up on the display.”

“I was wondering if I could buy you a beer at the Linger Longer tonight.”

“That depends. If you want to shoot the breeze—sure. If you’re looking to hire me for a project, I’m booked up until November. But if it’s Shirley Hammond you want to ask about, I’m not interested.”

Dougal had to laugh. “How’d you know I had some questions about Shirley?”

Amos cleared his throat. “I’ve heard you’re hanging out at the library these days, working on a new book, asking lots of questions about the past. You ought to leave all that alone, boy.”

Dougal was no longer amused. “You found her body, didn’t you, Amos? The day she committed suicide.”

“I did and it’s nothing I ever want to talk about again. Pretty much the most awful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m sure it was. But did you—"

“Forget it, Dougal. I’m fond of you, and I’d gladly meet for a drink and maybe a game of pool sometime. But as far as I’m concerned, questions about Shirley Hammond are just plain off limits.”

* * *

For most of that night Dougal pondered his conversation with Amos. Why was the subject of Shirley Hammond off limits? He could understand that finding her body must have been upsetting. But after all these years the shock should have worn off.

He wished he could talk the situation over with Charlotte. But she’d taken off pretty quickly after Wade arrived. He wasn’t sure calling her tonight was a good idea.

The next morning, Dougal still wanted to talk to Charlotte. What was he—obsessed? He tried to focus on his writing, but it was difficult when he didn’t even know if this book would ever get finished. He was pretty much dependent on Librarianmomma to feed him more information about the other women who’d been killed. And he hadn’t had a message from her in a long while.

He could always try contacting her. But for some reason he felt reluctant to do that.

He wished he had Charlotte here to distract him. It was kind of puzzling how it seemed the more he saw her, the more he wanted her.

It was almost like he was mooning over the librarian.

He didn’t do mooning, for God’s sake. Wasn’t his style.

Still, she was a puzzle, and puzzles
were
his style. According to Charlotte, she hadn’t said yes to Wade’s proposal because he was in love with Jamie.

That didn’t rule out the possibility that she had loved Wade.

But why should he care? She was sleeping with him. Wasn’t that enough?