Linda Crowder - Jake and Emma 01 - Too Cute to Kill (5 page)

9

Breakfast was served in the country kitchen.  While the lodging would be full in the spring and summer, few tourists ventured to northeastern Wyoming in the winter.  Jake and Emma shared the bed and breakfast with just one other couple and they were not early risers.

They started their inquiries about Sherry Thorne by speaking with Mark Stone, the realtor who had represented Rick and Judy.  Rick had called the man the day before and set up an appointment for Jake and Emma. 

They would meet Stone at his office, try to catch a few of Thorne’s co-realtors at the afternoon open houses then stop by her realty office to speak with her former assistant, who Judy assured them usually staffed the office on Sunday afternoons.

Mark Stone’s office was in downtown Gillette and Jake was glad they were meeting him on a Sunday when parking was plentiful.  His reception area was empty but Stone called out from his office when he heard the door chime, “C’mon back folks, I’m just finishing up a phone call.”

Jake and Emma followed the sound of his voice and found themselves in a pleasant, sunny office.  Stone waved at them to seat themselves in his two comfortable visitor chairs.  Emma read the real estate certificates on his wall and smiled at the picture of him with what she supposed was his son, both proudly holding up their catch of the day and grinning into the camera. 

Stone finished his call and stood to shake hands with Jake, who was watching the sparse traffic on the street.  “Rick told me you folks live in the house where Sherry Thorne died down in Casper.”

“We found her body,” clarified Jake.  “The police think she overdosed and someone panicked and dumped her body out of town.”

“Rick mentioned that,” said Stone, frowning.  “I had to make him say it again.  Just didn’t seem real.”

“Did you know Ms. Thorne well?” asked Emma.

“Not on a social basis,” replied Stone.  “I don’t remember hearing of her having much of a social life.  She didn’t belong to the club anyway.  I don’t think I ever saw her there except once or twice at an association of realtors event.”

“You seem surprised at how she died,” noted Emma.  “Did you ever suspect she was using drugs?”

“No.  That I did not.  I guess anybody might be using drugs these days and you wouldn’t necessarily know it, but it did seem out of character for Sherry Thorne.”

“In what way?” asked Jake.

Stone fidgeted in his chair for a moment.  He rearranged some papers on his desk then answered, “Sherry Thorne was a hustler.  She was a tiger in negotiations and she never stopped pushing for the best deal for her client.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”  asked Jake.

“Yes…..and no,” the realtor picked up a pen, clicked it open and shut a few times then looked up at Jake.  “She never did anything illegal but she danced mighty close to the line.  She just didn’t strike me as the type who would take stupid chances.  

“I suppose anyone might get into drugs but everything she did, she did with style.” He shuddered.  “This whole scenario strikes me as a little on the seedy side for Sherry Thorne.”

The first two realtors they met at local open houses were new to the firm and had only known Sherry Thorne in passing.  At the third house, they found the realty’s senior partner, Cap Westmont, who agreed to talk with them since traffic through the house was light.

“Sherry Thorne was a good broker,” he told them.  “Sure, she rubbed people the wrong way – but only if they were on the other side of the negotiating table.  She got good deals for her clients and closed a lot of sales.”

“Did she have a lot of clients,” Emma asked.  “Maybe there would be someone we could speak with.”

Westmont snorted, “Not on a Sunday.  Sherry specialized in bank-owned properties and estate sales.  She liked them because they didn’t have the kind of emotional investment in the house as an owner occupant does.”

“Sherry didn’t like drama, I take it.”

“No she didn’t,” laughed the realtor.  “God save me from owners who think their property is the Taj Mahal, she used to say.”  He smiled to himself over the memory then his smile faded.  “That was a horrible way for her to die.  She didn’t deserve that.”

“Does it surprise you to think of her being a drug addict?” asked Jake.

“Yes it does.  Sherry was sharp.  She was driven but she always knew when to draw the line.  You don’t think of an addict having that kind of self-control.”

“No,” agreed Emma, “you don’t.  Did Sherry have any business reason to be in Casper?”

“Sure,” answered Westmont.  “She had property listings all over this part of the state.  The banks loved working with Sherry because she always got top dollar for their foreclosures.”

“Did she always represent the sellers,” asked Jake, “or did she also represent buyers?”

“She mostly represented banks or estate attorneys,” replied Westmont.  He paused, mentally running through her client list.  “She was starting to work with private investors though.”

“Investors?” asked Emma.

Westmont nodded.  “The best thing about a bad economy is that an investor can pick up a property for under market value, do some repairs to it and sell it for a profit.”

“Sounds risky,” observed Emma.  “There’s so much that could be wrong with a property and you’d be taking a chance that you could sell it quickly for enough profit to make it worth your while.”

“It is risky,” agreed the realtor.  “That’s why an investor needs a realtor with a good eye and a head for the business end of flipping houses.”

“And that was Sherry Thorne?” asked Emma.

“Sherry was just getting into that line.  It was a natural progression for her since she already had her finger on the type of properties that tend to sell under market – foreclosures and estates.  She hadn’t made many deals yet, but like I said, she was just starting to work with investors.”

“Did she have any investors in Casper?” asked Emma.

“Her first investor was on a deal outside of Casper.  Started working with them this summer.”  He closed his eyes, trying to remember the details.  “Seems to me they approached her as a buyer for a ranch she was listing as an estate sale.  Sherry was thrilled to get them because there was some sort of story associated with the ranch that was scaring off local buyers.”

“What kind of story?” asked Jake, though he was beginning to think he already knew.

“Murder maybe, some kid went after his grandmother with an axe I think.  Anyway, Sherry got a great deal on it for them and she’s been trying to develop relationships with investors ever since.”

“Do you know the investor’s name?” asked Jake.

“Some corporation,” answered Westmont, moving away from them to greet a couple that had just come into the house.  “Stop by the office, maybe Mary could find the name for you.”

Mary Hendricks had been Sherry Thorne’s assistant.  She confirmed that Thorne had handled the sale of the Carver ranch after the death of the owners.  The file listed the name of the buyers as The Gerecht Group, a Wyoming Corporation.  No individuals were listed as contacts or officers of the corporation.

“Isn’t that a bit odd?” asked Emma.  “My assistant manages my contact list for me.”

Hendricks looked blankly at Emma.  “Ms. Thorne kept all her own contact files.  I just made coffee, typed up her paperwork and filled in for her at open houses if she had somewhere else she had to be.”

“The police said there was an appointment on her calendar the day she disappeared,” noted Jake.  “Do you know who the appointment was with?”

Hendricks shook her head.  “I told you, I didn’t make her appointments.”

“Did you handle the paperwork with her investors?” asked Jake.

“No, not usually.  She would call them if she found a property she thought they might be interested in.  I never met any of her investors.”

Emma briefed the assistant of the circumstances of Thorne’s death.  “Does that surprise you?” she asked.

Hendricks sat silently, her face turned to the window, watching the start of a winter snowstorm.  “Not exactly,” she said at last.  Emma and Jake exchanged surprised looks as the assistant continued.  “Ms. Thorne wasn’t like the other brokers.”

“In what way?” asked Emma.

“She had secrets,” Hendricks said after some thought.  “Not always.  Not when she first came here, but for a while now there’s been something going on.  She stopped having me maintain her appointment book and she started closing her door when she was on the phone.  Not always, only sometimes, like there were some calls she didn’t want anyone to hear.”

“Do you know who she was talking to?” asked Emma.

Hendricks shrugged.  “She didn’t say and I didn’t ask.  She was the boss.”

10

“So what do we know?”  Jake asked the question once they were out of Gillette on their way back to Casper.  Emma watched the barren, snowy landscape slide by outside her window.  This part of Wyoming had its beauties but right now, it seemed to Emma that the scenery was bleak.

“She handled the sale of the Carver ranch two years ago,” answered Emma.  “So that’s a connection – a weak one – between her and Nate Carver.”

“Yes.  I’ll check on Monday to see who the registered agent is for The Gerecht Group.  The attorney who handled the estate said he had to sell it way below market value because of the bad economy.”

“Which would agree with what Mr. Westmont told us,” observed Emma.  “But I don’t see how that puts us any closer to figuring out what happened to her.”

“Which leads us to the other interesting thing we learned on this trip,” said Jake.

“And that was?” asked Emma.

“No one we talked to thought Sherry Thorne was the type of person to use drugs.”

Emma shook her head.  “That’s not news.  Sheriff Newsome told you that the Gillette police had asked the people who knew Sherry Thorne and they hadn’t ever known her to use drugs.”

“That’s true,” answered Jake, his eyes never leaving the road.  Antelope could run out on the highway with little notice so drivers were wise not to become distracted at dusk.  “But everyone we spoke with said that Thorne would push legal and ethical boundaries but she wasn’t the type to cross them.”

“Except Mary Hendricks, who thought Sherry was hiding something,” noted Emma.

“That’s right,” agreed Jake.  “Something recent.”

“Drug use?” asked Emma.

“Maybe, but I don’t think Mary thought so.  I think Mary thought there was something fishy about Sherry’s clients.  Remember, Sherry stopped having Mary keep her appointments and didn’t have her do paperwork for her investment clients.”

“And closed the door – sometimes – when she was on the phone,” mused Emma.  They spent a few miles in silence as the sun slipped behind the horizon.  Jake flipped his headlights to bright and kept a wary eye out for wildlife.

Finally, Emma spoke.  “So what makes an aggressive, just barely ethical real estate broker step over the line?”

“Maybe she didn’t,” speculated Jake.  Emma turned to look at him.  By the dash lights his face looked dark and mysterious. 

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“The police know she drove her car to Casper and parked it at the east side Wal-Mart.  She never went inside, not according to the store surveillance cameras, so she must have met someone in that parking lot, right?”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” admitted Emma.  “Yes, I suppose she must have met someone and gone off in their car.”

“You’re a woman…”

“Thanks for noticing!”

Jake spared her a momentary glance before returning his attention to the road.  “What I meant is, you’re a woman, would you get into a car with a strange man after dark, 100 miles from home?”

“If I were a drug addict and he was my connection,” replied Emma.

“But let’s say you’re not a drug addict, because I’m beginning to think the Sheriff is wrong about that.”

“In that case, there’s no way I’d get into a car with a stranger,” she paused.  “I would get into a car with a friend, but why would I meet a friend at the Wal-Mart parking lot?”

“You wouldn’t,” agreed Jake.  “But you would meet a lover there.”

“Someone who didn’t want the two of you to be seen together.  That would explain what she had been secretive about and what kind of phone call she wouldn’t have wanted to have overheard.”  Emma fell silent again. 

After a few more miles, Emma ventured, “If that is true, then it would have to be her lover who fed her the drugs without her knowing it.  That would make it…”

“Murder,” agreed Jake.