Something Borrowed, Something Bleu (16 page)

_____

Meghan pulled me aside after the movie to ask me what the heck I’d said to Erin. When I related our conversation she was more relieved than anything. Mother and daughter went up to bed, perhaps to talk some more. Kelly pleaded exhaustion after what had been nearly a full day of bike riding, and we left him in the basement to an early night. Anna Belle and Dad went to bed, too, which left Barr and me to our own devices.
As soon as we were alone I told him about what Krista Madden had said about the Bines’ dairy.
“They come from money?” Barr asked, leaning back on the patio chair again.
He planned to leave the next day for a quick drive up to his parents’ Wyoming ranch before flying back to Cadyville. I’d been hoping to join him, especially as I hadn’t met his family face-to-face, but with only a few days to sort out Bobby Lee’s letter, I couldn’t spare the time.
“Tabby and Joe? Like, real money? Not that I know of. Joe’s dad worked construction, and Tabby’s folks didn’t live high on the hog, either. I mean, everyone got by okay, but … how much does a dairy cost?”
“More than it sounds like they had.”
“How do we find out more?”
“Public records, darlin’. Public records.”
“Great,” I grumped. “That’ll take forever.”
He grinned. “Naw, it won’t.” The laptop came open again. I snuggled onto the lounge chair with him and watched the screen light up.
As I marveled at his easy knowledge about how to gather information—though, granted, it
was
his job—he pulled up the address of the dairy, then the website of the county clerk’s office. A few more clicks, and he pointed to the screen.
It took me a moment to decipher the entry, before realization dawned. Eighteen years ago, the T&J Dairy property belonged to Ogden and Constance Dunner.
I remembered how bitter Ray Dunner had been when we asked where Rancho Sueńo had been located. How he’d said to ask Tabby.
The Cache la Poudre River that ran behind the dairy was the river that Gwen Miller had fallen into.
“Tabitha Bines’ name isn’t anywhere on this real estate transaction,” Barr said. “Do you know when they got married?”
“No, but it looks like Joe bought the land from Ogden Dunner and his wife when they closed up Rancho Sueńo. That was only a year or so after the Miller girl died. Dad told me Joe and Tabby started dating a few months after Bobby Lee died, but they didn’t get married for a while. Still, it seems kind of odd that he never put her name on the deed after they were married.”
“She doesn’t own any part of the dairy, then.”
“Well,” I said. “She might own the whole thing, now that Joe’s dead.”
A night bird squawked from a nearby tree, followed by the sound of an automatic sprinkler turning on in the neighbor’s yard.
“I wonder how Joe managed to afford that land,” I said. “He was barely twenty years old.”
“He didn’t,” Barr said.
“Didn’t what?”
He pointed to a notation on the website:
QC
. “He didn’t have to afford it. The land was quit claimed to him.”
“Quit claimed?”
From eight inches away, Barr’s eyes twinkled in the faint light of the laptop screen. “Essentially, that means the Dunners
gave
the land to Joe Bines.”
“Gave …?” Oh. Wow.
Krista Madden had been a gold mine of information after all. The only reason you’d give a parcel of land to Joe Bines would be if he had something really incriminating on you.
“We have to tell the sheriff,” I said.
Barr nodded, then rested his chin on top of my head. From above me he said, “I think I’d rather talk to your Inspector Schumaker, if you don’t mind. Get a better feel for this Jaikes fellow before talking to him directly.”
I craned my head back to look at him. “What about the trip to see your family?”
A slight shrug against my cheek. “I’ll leave a little later. We’ll track down Schumaker first thing in the morning.”
The tiny shudder of excitement that ran down my back was partly because of Barr’s proximity, and partly due to the feeling that we were finally making some real discoveries about what had happened eighteen years ago.
Turned out that my father and my fiancé weren’t the only ones who enjoyed the hunt.

The cacophony of trills,
cheeps, and whistles outside my open window jolted me awake just before six on Friday morning. Fifteen minutes later it became evident that further sleep would be impossible, and I swung my feet to the floor. Padding across the room, I opened the blinds and peered through the screen, expecting to find the entire avian cast from
The Birds
had taken up residence in the big old cottonwood tree next door. Instead, less than a dozen feathery creatures contributed to the racket. Below, Barr stood by my mother’s kitchen garden and examined the bean vines climbing to the top of the trellis. He was already fully dressed.
The birds hadn’t been kind to his slumber, either.
A shower later, I donned a floral sundress and strappy sandals and left my hair to air dry. For most of the summer my tan was my makeup, so it only took fifteen minutes to put myself together and tiptoe downstairs to make coffee.
As it brewed, I jotted notes on the pad by the telephone. I still didn’t know if we’d found out anything substantial about Rancho Sueńo or the Bineses. Correction: I was pretty sure we’d discovered some nicely orchestrated blackmail, but I wasn’t sure that it had anything to do with Bobby Lee’s death. Despite my assorted juicy and sordid discoveries, no one had placed Bobby Lee anywhere near Rancho Sueńo the night Gwen Miller died, or had said anything about him spending time there in the weeks preceding the incident.
There was still a lot we didn’t know. I’d felt like this before— completely bewildered, yet on the cusp of something. First came the ferreting out of information, the gathering of facts, discovery of secrets. But much of that turned out to be irrelevant or tangential to the bigger puzzle. Next I had to eliminate from consideration the bits that weren’t important in order to piece together the bits that were significant into a cohesive, meaningful solution.
Sighing, I crinkled my notes into a ball and threw it in the garbage under the sink. That wonderful, left-brained idea of narrowing in only on the correct information and then extrapolating the truth was all fine and dandy in theory. Too bad real life wasn’t so black and white, but rather so many shades of gray there weren’t names for them all.
I poured coffee and took a cup out to Barr.
The sky was high and bright, and the early morning air still felt cool. Soon temperatures would shift, signaling the onset of a Rocky Mountain fall—swift and often surprising. It was not unheard of for snow to fall in September, followed by a month of glorious Indian summer.
He took the steaming mug with a smile. “Morning, you.”
“Morning back,” I said.
We spent the next forty-five minutes sitting on the garden bench, sipping our coffee and occasionally talking, but for the most part content to be together in silence. The ease with which we could do that was one of the many things I loved about Barr. He was the guy for me, forever.
Then Anna Belle stepped out of the house, followed by Meghan and Erin. Our quiet time was over, but as we joined them, I realized how much I loved all of them. My family, both original and made. The contentment that settled across my psyche at the thought lessened my frustration at not knowing why my brother had died.
Kelly joined the group, and we gathered on the patio for another signature Cal Watson breakfast: cheese blintzes covered with gooey cinnamon-blueberry sauce, savory sausage made in Boulder and freshly squeezed grapefruit juice. I gave the delectable menu short shrift, though, anxious to call Cyan and catch up on my business e-mail. If I didn’t stay on top of my inbox, it would rapidly get out of control, and I’d start losing business.
Then I called Inspector Schumaker, reaching him at the sheriff’s office.
“I need to talk to you,” I said. “When would be a good time?”
“The sooner, the better.”
“Excuse me?”
“I was just about to call you. We found something at the crime scene that I want you to see.”
Well, that piqued my curiosity all right.
“Can you come right now?” he asked.
I assured him I’d leave immediately, not mentioning that I was bringing Barr with me. He’d find out soon enough.
“Barr, we need to get going,” I said from the doorway, tote bag already hanging from my shoulder.
Anna Belle looked up in surprise. “Where are you going?”
“I wanted Barr to meet the inspector who interviewed me at the dairy when Joe was killed.”
“Why?” Blunt, but reasonable.
“When I spoke with Krista Madden, née Jaikes, she said something about how Joe had managed to buy the land the dairy is on.”
“And?” Patience was not my mother’s strong suit.
“And Barr and I looked up the real estate records at the county clerk’s office on the computer last night.”
My father looked delighted, Meghan and Kelly listened with interest, and even Erin seemed intrigued. Anna Belle tapped her foot.
“The dairy used to be Rancho Sueńo.”
Dad leaned forward. “Really? I went out there once, when Bobby Lee was first interested in the place, but I’ve never been to the dairy.”
My mother sat back. “Could it be a coincidence?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Especially since Joe didn’t buy the land. The Dunners essentially
gave
it to him through a quit claim deed.”
Kelly whistled. “Wonder what your Mr. Bines had on the Dunner family.”
“Exactly,” I said. “We thought perhaps Inspector Schumaker could help us with that. Unfortunately, he’s going to be leaving the office in less than an hour.”
Barr stood. “We’d better get over there, then.” He turned to my father. “Thanks for another amazing meal, Cal. I can see Sophie Mae inherited her kitchen smarts from both sides.”
Dad and Anna Belle both smiled, and we went out to Barr’s rented car.
“Silver-tongued devil,” I said.
He waggled his eyebrows and gave me a kiss. “You better believe it.”

_____

As we were going into the squat, square building that housed the sheriff’s department, the man himself was coming out.
“Good morning, Sheriff,” I said.
He held the door open for us. “Morning.” Barr received a hard look as we walked by. I was surprised when Jaikes turned around and followed us inside. “Investigator Schumaker’s right back here. I think I’ll join you.”
Alarmed, I glanced up at Barr. What was going on?
Jaikes led us to the same conference room where I’d signed my statement. Schumaker looked up when we walked in. Dark sweat circles had already formed under his arms despite the air conditioning set to “frigid.” He sat bent over the paperwork and files that covered the table, his legs folded awkwardly beneath the molded plastic chair.
“Sir?” he said when Jaikes ushered us into the room and shut the door.
“Sit down,” the sheriff … invited? Sounded more like a command.
Slowly, I slid onto a chair. Barr sat beside me. Jaikes leaned against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him. One finger tapped against his elbow.
“You the lawyer?” the sheriff asked him. Tap. Tap.
Barr raised one eyebrow. “No.”
“Then who are you?”
“I’m the fiancé.”
Recognition flashed across Schumaker’s face, and I remembered that he’d talked to Barr’s superior when he’d been checking up on me. He probably knew Barr was a detective on the Cadyville force. Did that mean he’d be on my side or not? After all, he’d expressly told me to stay out of his way after Sergeant Zahn told him about my investigative adventures back home.
When he heard Barr wasn’t a lawyer, pleased surprise settled into Jaikes little blue eyes. “Well, then. I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave.”
“No,” I said. “He stays, or we both go.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Sure it is,” Barr said in an easy tone. “Unless she’s under arrest. Is she under arrest?”
No one looked happy. My heart skipped a beat. “Not yet,” Jaikes finally responded.
What on earth? I caught Schumaker’s eye and looked the question at him. He sighed and reached for a plastic bag in front of him. A neatly sealed evidence bag. He held it up so I could see the contents.
“Recognize this?”
“Sure,” I said. “It’s lip balm.”
“Made by a company called Winding Road,” he said. “Your company.”
“Well, of course it is. That one’s cinnamon flavored, if you read the label. Where did you find it?”
“At the dairy.”
“Well, I sort of figured that, or else you wouldn’t have it in that little bag. But where at the dairy?”
Jaikes stepped in. “Funny you should ask that. We found it under Joe Bines.”
I blinked.
“You have any idea how it got there?” he asked.
“My lip balm? Under a dead body?” Yuck. I shook my head. “No idea.”
“Well, it turns out I do have an idea, Ms. Reynolds. I do indeed.” Jaikes seemed to savor the words.
“Oh, now, c’mon,” I protested. “You know I didn’t kill him. Why would I? I hardly knew the guy.”
“So you say. Funny how you were there when he died, though.”
Beside me, Barr sighed.
Instantly I felt guilty. And angry. “I wasn’t
there
when he was murdered. I was up at the house with Tabby.”
“Again: so you say.”
“Listen, I know how I lost the lip balm in the first place.” I tried to keep the desperation out of my voice. Did these people really think I could have killed Joe? “When the billy goat butted me, my tote bag and everything in it went flying. I must have missed that little tube when I was picking it all up. Maybe Joe found it and then dropped it when, well, you know, someone dropped him.”
Jaikes went still. “Goat? What goat?”
Schumaker said, “She says a goat hit her from behind and knocked her down when she was on her way up to the house that day. I asked her about the dirt and scratches at the time. Show us your hands.”
I held them out for inspection like a little kid. The minor scrapes on my palms were healing quickly, but still looked recent. “I hope you don’t expect me to show you the bruise on my behind.”
Schumaker smiled. His boss pointedly did not.
“Anything else?” Barr said. “Because she’s cooperated so far. If we’re going to dance around like this some more, though, it’s lawyer time. Your choice.”
The sheriff glared at him. My sweetie’s return gaze was implacable.
“You’re free to go.” Jaikes opened the door and stalked out of the room. Instantly, the charge in the air dissipated, and I let out a whoosh of air. A moment later we saw Jaikes walk out to the parking lot, climb into a Suburban with the county logo on the side, and drive away.
“Thanks for remembering about the goat,” I said to Schumaker.
He snorted. “Like I could forget a thing like that. Besides, it’s in your statement.” He turned to Barr. “You’re Detective Ambrose?”
“Sure am.” Barr held out his hand, and the inspector shook it.
Rather than leaving, we settled back into our chairs. Schumaker watched us. Irritation vied with curiosity on his face.
“How well do you know the sheriff?” I asked.
He cocked his head to one side. “Now why would you ask a question like that?”
“Because we found out a couple of things about Gwen Miller’s death that weren’t advertised. One of those things involves a quit claim deed. The other one is the identity of the mystery girl at Ran—.”
His eyes flicked up, and he gave an infinitesimal shake of his head.
Barr touched my arm, cutting me off, and stood. “Good to meet you. I’d love to grab a coffee sometime, exchange war stories.” He pulled me to my feet, though I resisted.
Schumaker stood as well. “That’d be good.”
“Any suggestions for a good place to get a cup?”
What the heck?
Schumaker hesitated. Looked at his watch. “Zillah’s Café is good. I go there most days for lunch.”
“Sounds good. Let’s go, Sophie Mae.”
“What? Wait a minute …”
He took my arm and gently steered me to the half-open door. “We’re going to be late.”
Late for what?
Out in the parking lot, I started to demand why we had to leave before quizzing Schumaker about Krista Jaikes and the quit claim deed, but he shushed me.
“Camera,” he said once we were in the car. “There’ll be one in this parking lot, too.”
Oh.
I felt like an idiot. Jaikes might have left the building, but it still was a lousy place to talk about him.
“We’ll have to wait until lunch time,” Barr said.
Ah. The coffee discussion made sense now. Mr. Ambrose was a rather clever bear.