Read [To Die For 01] - A View to Die For (2012) Online

Authors: Richard Houston

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Adventure - Missouri

[To Die For 01] - A View to Die For (2012) (23 page)

BOOK: [To Die For 01] - A View to Die For (2012)
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“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” Megan had joined me on the deck. “You should be here in the winter. We have dozens of them come down from the north because our lake hardly ever freezes over. That’s one of the locals. We have several pairs that never leave.”

Fred ran down the stairs after the eagle. He would stop every few steps and bark at it while it circled to gain more height. I looked over at Megan and saw her smile for the first time this morning. “Do you need a cashier’s check or will a personal check do? My bank has a branch in Sedalia if you need the cashier’s check.” I asked her.

Her smile faded to a frown. She must have realized what I was asking. “My bank will put a ten day hold on a personal check. A cashier’s check would be better.”

“I need to make a trip up there anyway. There’s a sale on tires at that tire shop across from my bank, so I’ll take the motor home. It’s going to need them for the trip home.”

“You can’t leave now, Jake. You’re so close to getting the proof we need to prove Mike didn’t kill himself.”

I looked to see if Taylor had overheard her. He and Kevin had gone to the far end of the deck to be downwind from us. “Better keep it down,” I said in a near whisper, nodding toward the boys. “I’m not leaving yet. I just wanted to get the old girl in shape to drive. I can’t keep borrowing everyone’s car forever.”

Megan ignored my pleas to lower her voice. “You ought to trade that gas-hog in on something more useful. Why do you even want that beast?”

This time Kevin must have heard her. “Are you selling your motor home, Uncle Martin?” he asked, flicking his cigarette off the side of the deck and joining us.

“Kevin!” Megan yelled. “Do you want to burn down the house?”

“Don’t have a cow, Mom. You know nuthin burns here. Mike tried every Spring to burn the ticks and could never get the weeds to burn.”

“That was Spring, Kevin. We haven’t had any rain for a week. Get your ass down there and find that cigarette.”

“Okay. Okay,” he answered. “Come on, Taylor. Let’s get out of here before I get grounded.” Taylor doused his butt in his now cold coffee and followed Kevin down the stairs.

“We’re gonna take the boat, Mom,” Kevin called out when they reached the bottom of the stairs. His cigarette had landed on the path and was still burning. He stomped on it and ground it into the dirt. “Maybe we’ll go on over to Taylor’s and get something to eat. At least his dad won’t give us no shit about smoking.”

“Don’t go too far,” she yelled back. “It must be just about out of gas.” Then she turned back to me. “So what’s next? Have you thought about how to get the other DVD?”

“Another reason I want to drive up to Sedalia. Remember that beat-up truck we saw in the lot where I rented my car - the one with the roofing company sign? I need to see if they rent it out.”

Megan’s expression turned blank. “What on earth do you want with a roofing truck?” So I told her how I was going to commit a felony breaking and entering.

Megan thought my idea of impersonating a roofer was insane. I had explained how the only door without an alarm was the glass door in the master bedroom that led to a private deck. A deck that was only accessible from the master bedroom or a ladder. All I needed was to wait for Hal to leave on another business trip and then pretend I was a roofer fixing the flat roof that was both a deck and shelter for their screened porch below. She had asked how I knew the door wasn’t secure with some remark about ‘what was I doing in Amy’s bedroom.’ I made a lame excuse about ‘casing the joint,’ which I could tell she didn’t believe. She still had her doubts about my plan when we both left the house. I gave her my debit card, so she could drop by the ATM and get some grocery money, and I left for Sedalia in my motor home.

Fred couldn’t go with me to Sedalia because of the heat. The cab-air in the motor home wasn’t working, so I left him at Megan’s with central air-conditioning to keep him cool. I had all the windows open and almost missed the telltale message beep of my cell phone because of the wind noise. There was a call from Amy and another one from Sergeant Bennet.

Amy didn’t answer when I called back, so I left a message, then reluctantly called Bennet. “Hi, Jake,” he answered.
This was a first
, I thought.
He always called me Mr. Martin before
. “We recovered your credit card. A couple in Kansas tried to buy gas with it, and it didn’t clear because you had been smart enough to cancel it. They left without paying and were picked up by the Kansas Highway patrol twenty minutes later.”

I had nearly forgotten how Bennet didn’t buy my story of being robbed.
So now you believe me?
I thought. “That’s great, Sergeant. I don’t suppose they still had my cash?”

“No. No cash in the report. Of course Kansas is keeping the card for now. It’s evidence. I just thought I’d give you a head’s up in case you get subpoenaed as a witness.”

After hanging up with Bennet, I tried Amy’s cell again. “Hi, handsome,” she answered. “I was beginning to think you forgot me already.”

“Forget the girl of my dreams? No way. I’ve been trying to call all morning, but my service doesn’t work at Meg’s.” I didn’t let on that I heard about her argument with Hal.

“I suppose Taylor told you Hal came back.”

“Yeah. Are you okay?”

There was a slight pause before she answered. “I get a break in an hour. Can you stop by the hospital, and we can get something to eat? I really need someone to talk to.”

“I was going to my bank in Sedalia, but there’s a branch in Clinton. So I’ll stop by after the bank. Sure you’re okay?”

This time, the pause was longer. She must not have covered the mouthpiece completely; I could hear a man’s voice. “I’ve got to go, Jake. See you in an hour.”

The minute she hung up, I began to have doubts. It was the same feeling of insecurity I’d had before I’d found Natalie with someone else.
This will never work
, I told myself.
It’s probably some old coot asking for his medicine. And I’m jealous of that?
I tried to let it go and took a left at Highway C in Lincoln when I saw a sign pointing to Clinton.

Getting Megan’s check for five thousand from the bank turned out to take a lot longer than I had expected. Although I had the three different forms of ID they needed, they still acted like I was trying to scam them. It wasn’t until they called my branch manager, at my insistance, that they issued the cashier’s check. By then I was late for my date. When Amy didn’t pick up my call, I went straight to the hospital.

Sitting in the parking lot was Hal’s Mercedes. My blood pressure went up ten points. I sat in my motor home, trying to think. I knew Amy drove the SUV just as much as Hal, so I was probably jumping to conclusions.
But what if it was him?

My question was answered before I could get out of the motor home. Amy and Hal came out the Emergency entrance and headed for the Mercedes. They were holding hands.

* * *

Fred was waiting for me on the front entry, guarding a package from UPS when I returned. “How did you get out here, Freddie?” I asked when I went over to pet him. Then I noticed that Taylor’s truck was gone, and realized the boys must have come back after Megan and I had left. Fred wasn’t used to Missouri’s heat and humidity, and he was panting like a rabid hound. He even had foam dripping from his jaw. I needed to get him cooled off before he had a stroke. I picked up the package and opened the door.

He headed straight for his water bowl in the kitchen. I yelled out to see if anyone was home. There would have been hell to pay if the boys had still been there, but unless someone was dumb enough to steal Taylor’s truck, I knew I was calling out to an empty house. Then I dropped the package on the table and went over to the refrigerator to grab a beer. The fridge was still empty except for a couple of beers, which meant Megan had not been the one to leave Fred out in the heat.

Fred came over by me and laid his head at my feet. The package was for me. I knew it had to be the floppy drive I ordered off eBay, so I made a mental note to check out the floppy from the recycle yard later. There was no rush. I needed to take care of my dog more than I needed to play with a computer at the moment. “Want to go for a swim, Old Boy?” He was up in an instant, wagging his tail and barking at me. Whoever said dogs didn’t have the intelligence to speak never owned a Golden Retriever.

Before I was halfway down the stairs, Fred beat me to the dock and jumped in the lake. Megan’s pontoon boat was parked in its slip, and the lift was at the bottom. That seemed strange. It wasn’t like Kevin to walk up the stairs when there was an easier way up the hill. I was still thinking about who could have taken it down without going back up when I caught up with Fred. He was back on the shore with a rock he must have found at the bottom of the water. “Give me the rock, Freddie,” I said, reaching toward his slimy muzzle.

After a little tug-of-war, he gave me the rock then raced toward the end of the dock. He should have played football. He knew where to catch my forward pass and was right on his spot waiting for it. I decided to play a trick on him and threw it in the other direction, closer to the shore. He was on it in a heartbeat.

The rock landed in the same place we had found the intruder’s footprint several days ago. But now, the lake was nearly two feet higher, and the print had to be washed away. “What do you have there, Boy,” I said when Fred came up with something other than a rock. Fred made me go through his keep-away game before he finally relinquished his prize. It was a waterlogged cell phone.

It didn’t take two seconds to realize what we had. “Good Boy. This must be what our trespasser was looking for,” I said. “Let’s go back to the house and dry this thing out. If we can get it working, you may have just solved the case.”

It stood to reason that the killer dropped his phone when he was feeding Bill Atkins to the fishes. I finally had some tangible evidence to prove or disprove my theory that Bennet was Hal’s stooge. Even if I was wrong about Bennet, I will have a pretty good idea who the killer is. Of course, there wasn’t much hope of the phone working again. But I knew the data on its SIM card was another story. Worst case, I would get another phone exactly like it and switch SIM cards.

Fred ran up the path to the lift and waited while I played catch-up. I got in the lift, and he took the seat next to me, acting like a kid on a carnival ride. I swear he was grinning in anticipation of the ride to the top. I too was enjoying the slow ride up the hill. It reminded me of the cog-wheel tram up the side of Pike’s Peak back home. Allison was a curious ten-year old the last time I made that trip. She was still at an age where her father was the smartest man alive. My melancholy day-trip vanished half way up the hill. I could see the sliding door to my room was off its tracks and lying on the ground.

I stopped the lift at the lower-level deck and ran over to my room. “Is this how you got out, Freddie?” His excitement on the tram had been replaced by fear. His tail was down, and the hair on his back was standing straight up.

Chapter 17

I seriously doubted that whoever broke-in was still here. He must have come and gone by boat, or the lift wouldn’t have been at the dock. But I wasn’t taking any chances, and I stood outside the open door frame to check out the room before I entered. Fred stayed back several feet acting like a whipped puppy. “The coast is clear, Fred, let’s see what they took.” He didn’t follow me when I stepped into the room.

I was expecting to see the type of damage my mother had from her break-in, but I didn’t see anything out of place. The sheets on the bed were pulled out at the corners, and the blanket half on the floor, exactly the way I had left it. Then I looked under the bed and saw my computer was still where I hid it. Hiding something under a bed was not the safest place – I knew that. I just wanted to keep it out of Kevin’s sight. The kid had a tendency to think any piece of electronics was made just for him.

Fred finally joined me, but he still had his tail between his legs. “Don’t worry, Old Buddy, the jerk is gone,” I said as I knelt on one knee and took his head in my hands. “Did he hurt you?”

Fred leaned his head sideways. It was his way of asking me to rub a particular ear. I obliged and kissed him on the top of his head, then began checking him over for injuries. He must have scared the burglar away before the intruder had a chance to ransack the house. My fear now was that he had kicked or hit Fred to make him so terrified.

Fred smiled at the attention he was getting and started to wag his tail. Only a dog owner could tell it was a smile. Most people would think I was bonkers to describe his expression that way, but it was a smile nonetheless. When I was satisfied that the only thing wrong with Fred was his ego, I put the door back on its tracks, took my computer, and headed for the kitchen. Something told me there was a connection between this break-in and my mother’s. I figured I could check out the floppy from the recycle yard while the phone was drying out.

The damage to the sliding door had been superficial. The burglar had simply lifted the door up and off its track. I had made a mental note to get a security bracket for the door, so it wouldn’t happen again. It was a simple fix but not something most door manufactures seem to care about or they would supply one with the door.

Fred and I were back in the kitchen, working on installing the floppy drive, when he heard someone at the front door. His tail was wagging, so it had to be someone he knew. “Is that you, Jake?” Megan called out. “Want to help me with these?”

“Give me a minute,” I answered. “I’m in the middle of something.”

She came into the kitchen carrying a couple of paper bags full of groceries. Evidently, she must have bought them at the only store in town that still did things the old fashioned way and still gave a choice between paper and plastic. “What’s that mess you have on the table?” she asked, placing the bags on the kitchen counter.

I clicked the ‘Finish’ icon on the installation screen for the floppy driver and turned to answer. There was something different about her. “The floppy drive came today. Maybe now we can find the guy who stole Mom’s air conditioner,” I answered. “What did you do to your hair? It looks good.”

BOOK: [To Die For 01] - A View to Die For (2012)
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