Dyer Consequences (20 page)

“Of course I’ll talk to her, Mimi,” Kelly said, reaching out to give her a reassuring pat on the arm. Just like Mimi would usually do for everyone else. “Why don’t you send her in here? It’s cozy and quiet in this corner.”

The worry lines on Mimi’s face relaxed away. “Thank you, Kelly. Thank you so much.” She turned and sped from the café. Connie followed, giving Kelly a thumbs-up.

Meanwhile, Kelly closed out of her accounting spreadsheet and cleared the piles of papers she’d spread on the table. Glancing up, she saw a tall, stylishly dressed blonde walking her way. The woman appeared to be in her thirties. Tracy’s older sister, obviously. Since Kelly couldn’t quickly spring to her feet, she waved the woman over. “I’m Kelly Flynn,” she said, offering her hand. “Please have a seat.”

“Thanks for taking the time,” the woman said as she sat. “I’m Tracy’s older sister, Claire Putnam, and I’ve been out of the country for six months. My job as a researcher takes me into some pretty remote areas abroad. I only learned about Tracy’s death two weeks ago. I didn’t know what to think. . . . I was devastated. I came back as soon as I could, but it took nearly a week to get home to Colorado.” Claire stared at the windows. “And when I did, I couldn’t believe what I heard. My baby sister drowned in a tub of dye? I mean, that’s horrible enough, but to learn that she was
murdered
? My God! Who would do such a thing? Tracy was a sweetheart, a total innocent, she was . . . she was . . . so trusting. . . .” Her voice trailed off.

Kelly’s heart squeezed, watching Claire’s raw grief flash across her face. “I understand your feelings, Claire. We couldn’t comprehend it, either. Tracy was such a sweet girl. Her death was totally senseless . . . as well as tragic.”

Claire peered at Kelly. “The police believe some vandals killed Tracy. Do you think that’s what happened, Kelly?”

Kelly hesitated, not knowing exactly how to respond. Maybe she should keep her suspicions to herself. “I don’t know, Claire. It doesn’t make sense to me, either. Apparently Tracy was downstairs dyeing fibers at the tub when some guys came into the shop and started trashing the place. Maybe they found her downstairs and panicked. I don’t know.” Kelly stared into her coffee, uncomfortable with the version she’d recounted.

“Hitting her on the head, I can understand,” Claire said, looking out the window again. “But the police say she was held under the water until she drowned. That’s... that’s horrible! Why would anyone do that?”

Kelly held back the words that wanted to escape. “Maybe those guys were high on drugs or something. Who knows? Some criminals have no conscience. They’re sociopaths.”

Claire glanced back to Kelly. “I asked the detective if they had been able to question this man Tracy was dating. And the detective acted surprised, like he didn’t know about him. Tracy only mentioned him once, and unfortunately she didn’t tell me his last name. She called him ‘Jimmy.’ Did she ever talk to anyone here about a boyfriend?”

Kelly stared back into Claire’s eyes.
At last.
The mysterious boyfriend had a name. Or part of a name. Finally there was a lead. Her pulse speeded up. “Tracy told one of my friends that she was seeing a guy but didn’t mention his name.”

“Damn,” Claire swore softly. “I’ve wracked my brain and cannot bring out a last name. Didn’t anyone at the university—her classmates or her friends—ever hear Tracy talk about him?”

Kelly shook her head. “Apparently not, according to the police. They’ve interviewed her friends twice. She must have kept him a secret for some reason.”

“But, why, for God’s sake?” Claire’s hand jerked out in obvious frustration. “If we could find that guy, maybe we could learn something.”

“Did Tracy say where she met him?”

Claire closed her eyes. “Uhhhh, yeah . . . I think she said she met him at her office.”

Whoa.
Kelly wasn’t expecting that. “You mean the real estate office?”

Claire nodded. “I believe so. That’s the only place she worked.”

Kelly’s heart skipped a beat. If Tracy met this Jimmy at the real estate office, surely someone would have seen them together. Was he a client? Another agent? “Think, Claire. Did Tracy say anything else about this guy?” Kelly coaxed.

Claire closed her eyes again, clearly trying to remember. “Just little things. How crazy she was about him . . . and he was crazy about her, I guess. . . . He was real passionate . . . but moody. I remember she said he would drift away, kind of . . . and they would argue, but they’d always make up. . . . You know, stuff like that.”

Kelly mulled over Claire’s description. Passionate but moody. That could be a volatile combination.

“It’s so discouraging,” Claire said sadly. “My baby sister has been killed for no reason. My parents are heartbroken. And I want to do something to help, but . . . but it seems like there’s nothing I can do.”

Kelly instinctively reached out and placed her hand on Claire’s. “You’ve done more than you know, Claire. You’ve provided information on this boyfriend. Did you tell the police where Tracy met Jimmy?”

“Yes, I did. They said they’d check it out.” She gazed out into the café. “I need to know that I’ve done something to help the police catch my sister’s killer. Otherwise I won’t be able to sleep at night. I have to return to my parents’ tomorrow, and I want to be able to tell them something that will bring them comfort.”

Kelly held Claire’s gaze for a moment. “Why don’t you tell them that the police promised us they won’t rest until they’ve found Tracy’s killer.”

Kelly swung her crutches forward, hurrying to return to the café table. Her cell phone was ringing away. Damn crutches, she fumed as she tried to move faster than usual. Two weeks down. Four more weeks to go.
Arrrrgh!

Reaching the table at last, she snatched her phone and flipped it open. Burt was still there.

“Hey, Kelly, I’m glad I caught you. Got some more updates you’ll like to hear.”

“Thanks, Burt. Did you get my message about Tracy’s sister? Have the detectives found out anything about this Jimmy? Have they interviewed the people in the real estate office again? Did anyone see Tracy with this guy?”

“Kelly, Kelly... slow down,” Burt said. “According to Dan, they’re still interviewing the agents. Some agents don’t spend much time in the office, so it’s taking a while to reach them all.”

“Anything so far?”

“Not yet, Kelly. Some agents barely remember Tracy, let alone whom she talked to.”

“Damn, Burt,” Kelly swore softly. “I was hoping for a breakthrough.”

“Give them time, Kelly. The police will find a lead somewhere. Now, back to your case. They did confirm that Carolyn Becker is Geri Norbert’s sister. Her name was listed in the family records.”

“I figured as much. So, now it’s confirmed. Geri Norbert’s family wants to buy my ranch. Did they learn anything from Geri Norbert about the car? You said they were going to interview her.”

“Yeah, they did. Geri told them she sold the car to some guy in Colorado Springs last year and was surprised to learn it was still registered in her name. She said she drove down from Fort Connor to the Springs and signed over the title to him for five hundred dollars. ”

Kelly pondered what Burt said. She had personal experience with Geri Norbert’s devious nature. Geri was a skilled liar. Kelly could attest to that. “Do you believe her, Burt?”

“I wasn’t there to hear her, Kelly. Dan says she appeared to be telling the truth, but you can never tell with some people.”

“Geri’s a master liar, Burt. She comes across as genuine and totally honest and sincere. But then that other side of hers surfaces, and look out. Would there be any record of the sale other than the title? Did she advertise in the newspaper or something?”

“Nope, she said she put a sign with her phone number in the front window, then parked the car alongside the road. Risky way to find buyers, but people do it. Apparently the guy called her, and she went down to meet him. That’s it. No record.”

“No record, how convenient,” Kelly mused out loud. “Boy, we’re getting nowhere.”

“Not necessarily, Kelly. Most investigative work is slow going. There are lots of little pieces of information that don’t seem to mean anything at first, but finally you find enough to start piecing together the puzzle.”

Kelly mulled over that comment, as pieces of information started forming into questions in her mind. “You know, Burt, Jayleen told me the other night she’d never seen Geri drive that black Toyota, so Geri must have kept it down in Colorado Springs until she sold it. Why, then, would that car, sold to some no-name buyer, suddenly show up in Bellevue Canyon, parked on the edge of my ranch? The same ranch that used to belong to Geri Norbert. That’s a helluva coincidence, don’tcha think?”

Burt took a moment to answer. “I told you before, Kelly. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Neither do I, Burt. Both Jayleen and I suspect that Geri Norbert’s family may be behind all these attacks on me and the other people who tried owning the ranch.”

“We have no proof, Kelly, simply suspicions. But if there is a connection, you can bet we’ll find it.”

Kelly released a frustrated sigh. “I hope so, Burt.”

“Hey, I do have something new to report. Deputy Don up in the canyon is still on the job. He paid a visit to the auto repair shop owner whose property is next to the vacant land where the Toyota was parked. The owner told Don that the Toyota is parked there most of the time, but every now and then, it’s replaced with a gray pickup truck. Claims he never sees the driver. Apparently the vehicles are switched at night when he’s not there. He only notices it when he comes into the shop in the morning. He says it’s been happening for several weeks, ever since the snows started. That would make it December.”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Kelly pondered out loud this time. “I swear, Burt, I feel like we’ve fallen down the rabbit hole with Alice on this one. Does that make any sense to you?”

“None whatsoever, Kelly,” he said with a chuckle. “But at least we’ve got a new lead on the Toyota owner. Deputy Don told the auto shop guy to keep a watch out for that gray pickup and write down the license number the next time it shows up. So the information is still trickling in, Kelly. Bit by bit, like I said.”

Kelly was quiet for a moment, sorting through what Burt was saying. “There’s only one reason I can think of that someone would take the trouble to switch vehicles in the middle of the night, Burt. And that would be if they have something to hide.”

Burt paused. “I’m inclined to agree with you.”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Kelly said.

Kelly reached over her laptop for the jangling cell phone.

“Kelly, it’s me.” Jennifer’s voice was breathless. “You’ll never guess what I found out.”

“Tell me.”

“Our resident diva, Maya, just returned from Hawaii, and we went for coffee so I could update her on everything that’s happened in the office. She’s been away a month. Naturally, I told her about Tracy, and she was horrified.” Jennifer paused to suck in wind.

Kelly settled into her café chair and sipped her coffee. “I imagine she was,” she prodded, hoping this story had a point. She was right in the middle of her client accounts.

“When I told her that police were asking questions about this mysterious boyfriend Tracy met at the office, Maya said she remembered seeing Gothboy—I mean, Franklin— talking to Tracy one afternoon. According to Maya, he was real intense, too. Like hitting on her.”

Kelly sat bolt upright. “You’re kidding! When was this? Does Maya remember?”

“Oh, yeah. It was last November. Maya had just closed a sale with one of his clients. That’s why she remembers him hanging around the office.”

“Jennifer, you’ve gotta tell Burt right away. Maya’s the only one who saw Tracy with someone. No one else in the office remembers anything.”

“That’s my next call. Can you believe that? Gothboy Franklin may be Tracy’s secret boyfriend.” Jennifer’s voice rose with excitement.

“What’s Franklin’s first name?”

“Uhhh, let me check. I think I told you, everyone calls him J.D. to his face and Gothboy behind his back. Wait a minute, here’s the Colorado book. Every licensed agent should be here.”

Kelly heard the sound of pages being turned. “Isn’t that online?”

“Trust me, it’s faster this way. See, here it is. ‘Franklin, J. D.’ ” Jennifer went quiet.

“Well, what’s ‘J.D.’ stand for? Does it say?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jennifer said softly. “James David Franklin.”

This time, Kelly went quiet. “Oh, my God...” she breathed at last. “We’ve found Jimmy.”

Kelly took a deep drink of coffee as she looked out into the empty café. Pete had already closed for the day but had thoughtfully left a carafe of his rich brew beside Kelly’s elbow. She looked across the café table to Burt. His reaction to Jennifer’s information on J. D. Franklin was more subdued than Kelly expected. Was that just a professional cop’s cool?

“Why aren’t you more excited, Burt? Jennifer and I are really psyched. We found Jimmy!
Tracy’s
Jimmy. Passionate, moody, maybe volatile Jimmy. This is the first real lead we’ve had in the case.”

Burt smiled at her enthusiasm. “I am pleased, Kelly, and Dan will be, too. But let’s not jump to conclusions. All we’ve got for sure is that Franklin’s first name is James, and he was seen talking to Tracy at the office.”

“Burt, that’s
huge
! We had nothing on the boyfriend before. He was simply someone named ‘Jimmy.’ Now, we’ve
got
something!” she exulted, allowing excitement into her voice again.

“Believe me, Kelly, if there’s a connection, the guys will find it. After what Jennifer said about Franklin’s background, Dan’s bound to turn up lots of people who’re willing to talk about him. Let’s see what turns up.”