Death Changes Everything (2 page)

"Where is Matthew?" asked Grace.

"Outside, talking to Jake and Jeb. Do you know where that man took me for our date? Fishing! Can you believe it?"

Emma laughed, remembering her own fly-fishing adventures with Jake. "That's a Wyoming man's way of saying he likes you." Kristy turned a withering look on her. "I'll get you a glass of iced tea. You look like you could use it."

"What I could use is a glass of wine, but I'll settle for tea."

"Wine it is! I’ll even join you."

"If you don't mind my saying so," said Grace as she laid out two more plates, "I think you're a little over dressed for fishing."

"Ya think? Thank you, Emma," said Kristy, accepting a glass of Chianti.

"Did you catch anything?" asked Emma, still giggling. Kristy stuck her tongue out at her.

"I think you should run," Matt said as the men came inside. Matt was senior detective for the Casper Police Department and had been dating Kristy for just over three months since he had arrested her abusive ex-husband for murder.

"Run for what?" asked Kristy.

"County Attorney," Matt answered, walking over to stand behind her and putting his hands on her shoulders.

"If I were to run," mused Jake, "and if I were to get the nomination, and if I were to be elected. That’s a lot of
ifs
."

"You'd win the primary," Matt assured him. "There's nobody better qualified than you. After that, the election is just a formality. Everyone knows the only contest is for the nomination."

"I don't know about that," countered Jake. "I hear Amanda Knoll is thinking about running and as US Attorney, she'd be a formidable opponent."

"They'll vote for you because of party affiliation," said Jeb. "No offense, Jake. I think you'd make a fine County Attorney, but Matt's right. Amanda Knoll could be an ideal candidate, but with the wrong letter behind her name on the ballot, she won't win."

Jake scowled at him. "I hate that. I want to win because people think I'm the best person for the job, not because of partisan politics."

“I knew you wanted to win!” said Matt.

"What makes you think you wouldn't be the best person for the job, Jacob?" asked Grace, bringing lasagna from the kitchen. She placed the pan on a trivet in the center of the table. "You're a fine man and an honest one."

"Thank you, Grace. I appreciate you saying that."

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. Please, everyone, let’s eat while the food's hot."

"Grace asked a valid question, Jake,” asked Jeb once everyone had filled a plate. “What’s your hesitation?"

"Just between us, I'm not sure I’m up to the job. I've spent my career in private practice. What do I know about being a prosecutor?"

"Do you think it would feel funny being on the other side?" asked Kristy. "Don’t defense attorneys enjoy getting guilty people off?"

"Being a criminal attorney isn't about getting guilty people off or innocent people convicted. It's about doing what's right. A County Attorney should ask of every case, how would justice be best served? It might be by pressing hard for a conviction, but it might also be by negotiating a fair plea deal or dropping charges. Every case is different and should be decided on its own merits."

"That needs to be in every campaign speech you give," said Matt. "No, hear me out, Jake. Even before we knew the truth about the CA's office, we cops were ready to mutiny. We’d bust somebody, only to see him get a slap on the wrist or the charges dropped with no explanation. How long can you expect us to keep arresting people when there's a revolving door on the jail?"

"Is it really that bad?"

"I could tell you things that would make your head spin. The new Sheriff has been good for morale, but if you could get the CA's office dealing fairly with people, we could turn this county around."

Jake looked around the table at his friends. "I hear what you're saying, and part of me agrees with you. Maybe it’s selfish, but I’m happy with my life just the way it is." He reached for Emma's hand. "Have you thought of all that would change for us if I throw my hat in the ring?"

"Jake, bless your heart, but you’re not running for President. Nothing’s going to change."

"Taylor's not going to bow out of the race because I decide to get in. It could get ugly."

"He has a point, Emma," agreed Jeb. "Local politics can be downright vicious. Whatever skeletons you've got in your closet, get ready for them to see the light of day."

"Well, we don't have any skeletons. Dust bunnies, maybe. Clint Taylor is welcome to them, right Jake?"

Jake didn't answer. His eyes had become unreadable. "Whatever you decide, we're behind you.” Matt put his fork down on his empty plate. "That was the best lasagna I've ever tasted, Grace. I hope you’ll give me your recipe."

“Of course, Matthew. I’d be delighted.”

"You cook?" asked Jake, raising an eyebrow to his friend.

"He's really good," offered Kristy. "Makes the best enchiladas. I'll see if I can get him to make a batch when you and Jeb get back. Of course, it’ll have to be at my place. He has nothing at his. We’d be sitting on the floor!"

"Don't be giving away my secrets, woman!"

2

Jake tossed and turned in bed that night, eventually giving up trying to sleep. He tucked his feet into the slippers lying beside the bed and pulled on the bathrobe Emma had bought for him when Grace came to stay with them.
You can’t go running around the house in your underwear,
she’d told him. Jake had diligently tried to get into the habit of putting on the robe when he ventured out of the bedroom late at night or early in the morning.

He padded into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. Going through the sunroom and out onto the back porch, he stared unseeingly at the stars. Nights had been growing colder and Jake pulled the bathrobe tighter around him. There were few neighbors, so few lights disturbed the darkness.

Jake was torn about the opportunity to run for County Attorney. With the Kenworthys backing him, he would have a real chance of winning the nomination and Matt was right. Win the nomination and the election was virtually his.

As County Attorney, he could be an advocate for victims and a champion of justice. Those ideals might sound corny and old fashioned to a man like Clint Taylor, but they meant something to him.

Your skeletons will see the light of day,
Jeb had warned. Jake took a long drink of his water, suddenly wishing he’d grabbed something stronger. Surely, Jeb was wrong. Why would anyone bother to dig up dirt in a local race?

He heard the door open and a soft voice as Emma’s arms went around him, her face resting on his back. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry, Em. I was trying not to wake you.”

“Sparky did. You must have left the bedroom door open.”

Jake chuckled, picturing the cat leaping onto the bed and licking Emma’s nose, as she did when she thought they’d slept long enough. “Sorry.”

“Satellite.” Emma pointed at a pinprick of light moving across the sky. She turned Jake toward her, his face still cloaked in shadow. “I’m not sure why this is such a hard decision for you.”

He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “I guess I just need time to adjust to the idea.”

He couldn’t read her expression in the darkness but she relaxed against his chest, signaling her acceptance of his answer. If he was going to run, he was going to have to make a phone call tomorrow.

***

Kristy glared at the stack of paperwork she was working on. She'd been diligently attacking the pile all morning, but it didn't seem appreciably smaller. Few therapists in Casper accepted insurance because of the mountain of paperwork required and the fact that insurance companies often rejected the initial bill thus increasing the cost to the provider.

Kristy had developed a knack for getting Emma's bills approved and paid the first time she submitted and the payments supported them both. Being able to access their insurance benefits also gave Emma's clients added ability to afford to get the help they needed. Like most therapists, Emma adjusted her fees when someone who wanted help could not afford to pay her regular rate. She also reserved a number of slots in her caseload for domestic violence victims, an issue close to Kristy’s heart.

Her cell phone rang and Kristy frowned when she saw Matt's number on the caller ID. Glancing at the clock, she had a sinking feeling he was calling to cancel their lunch date. It was a frustration of dating a detective on a small police force.

"I'm sorry, honey. I got called out on a burglary and I'm just not going to make it."

Kristy struggled to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "I understand. What about dinner?"

"Wish I could. I have self-defense tonight." The Casper Police Department offered a variety of self-defense classes through the city’s Recreation Department. Responsibility for teaching the classes rotated among the senior officers and tonight it was Matt's turn.

"That's right. I forgot."

"We could do lunch tomorrow.”

"I have that Greeter's booth." Kristy was an active member of the Casper Greeter's club, which welcomed businesses that opened or moved into Natrona County. She’d agreed to work at a booth they were sponsoring at a festival along the river over the weekend. "What about tomorrow night?"

"I start my week on swing." Every six weeks, Matt worked a week of swing shift, another responsibility he shared with the other senior officers.

Before she could make another suggestion, Kristy heard a voice in the background of the call and Matt told her he had to go. He promised to call as soon as he was free. Kristy hung up the phone and put her head in her hands.

"Come on, girl. Snap out of it!" she said aloud.

Emma had gone home an hour ago, finding herself with an empty appointment calendar, a rarity for a Friday afternoon. She’d encouraged Kristy to go home as well, but the stack of bills wouldn’t get any smaller before Monday so Kristy had decided to whittle away at it while she waited for Matt. Now that he wasn’t coming, she gathered up the paperwork, locked the file drawer in her desk, and called it a day.

"Take some time off and spoil yourself,” Emma had told her, but Kristy wasn’t very good at doing nothing. Grabbing her purse, she locked the office door and walked the few blocks home. Living downtown, Kristy enjoyed walking to work in all but the worst weather. She ambled slowly, looking at store displays full of Christmas, though it wouldn’t even be Halloween for another two weeks.

She passed a small bookstore, just two doors down from the entrance to her building. She cringed at the holiday titles on display, then one caught her eye. She stood thinking about it for a few minutes, ignoring the busy lunch crowd hurrying by her on the sidewalk. On impulse, she went into the store and bought a copy. Embarrassed, she nodded when the clerk asked if she would like a bag for her purchase.

She hurried out of the store and into the lobby of her building. She pulled a handful of what looked like junk mail from her box, then punched the call button for the elevator. Five floors later, she tossed the book and her purse on the table by the door, and pulled out the makings for a turkey sandwich.

While she ate, she thought about her relationship with Matt. They met after the May Day Blizzard, when Matt investigated the murder of a man who had lived downstairs from Kristy. Once the case was resolved, Matt had lost no time in asking her for a date. They had been seeing each other ever since.

She'd had a horrible experience with her first husband, who had been violent almost since she'd said "I do." A hard shell had formed around her heart and, for years, she'd shut everyone out. Before coming to Casper, she'd lived a nomadic existence, moving every time she thought her ex-husband might have discovered where she was. She'd had acquaintances, but never friends, until she met Emma.

Matt was nothing like her ex-husband. He was kind to her and treated her with gentleness and respect. He was an intelligent man, quick-witted and funny. She enjoyed his company and slowly she was beginning to relax the guard that she had maintained for so many years. She felt safe with him.

But was that enough? He was an attractive man and there was no shortage of chemistry between them, but they were very different people. At this point in their relationship, they were still exploring. The differences she discovered were still part of Matt's charm, but how long would it take before the charm wore off? Would those differences make them stronger or pull them apart?

And Matt's job! Kristy finished her sandwich and put the few dishes in the sink. His job never ended. She was learning that a police detective was always on call, even when he wasn't on duty. Matt was forever canceling dates and, when they did go out, they were at the mercy of his cell phone.

She walked to the wall of windows that looked out over Main Street and beyond it, to Casper Mountain. The aspen were starting to turn, giving the mountain islands of yellow in the sea of evergreen. It was a beautiful view. The last time Matt had come to her apartment for dinner they'd stood in front of these windows watching the sunset cast shadows over the mountain. Matt had wrapped his arms around her and they had watched the mountain in comfortable silence.

For the first time in years, she found herself wondering what it might be like to have a future with a man she could love and trust. It was both terrifying and exhilarating, rolled into a physically frustrating package. Whenever he kissed her, Kristy’s body ached to respond but she had never been the type to take a physical relationship lightly. Matt never pushed her, but she wondered how long he’d be willing to wait. She leaned against the window, her overheated thoughts making her appreciate the cool of the glass.

She slid the book she’d bought out of the brown paper bag and propped herself up on the sofa. Her face flushed just looking at the title and she was grateful the store’s owner, a woman she knew from Greeters, hadn’t been the one to ring up the sale. Small-town booksellers are protective of their customers’ privacy, but Kristy was glad she wouldn’t have to find out if this might be one title too good not to pass along.

***

Emma watched Jake’s truck disappear down their road on his way to pick up Jeb for their trip to the cabin. He’d spent the time she’d been at work packing his truck and regaling Grace with stories of hunting trips he’d taken with his dad over the years. He’d meant to leave at the break of dawn, but when Grace woke pale and listless, Emma hadn’t felt comfortable leaving her alone so Jake had agreed to wait.

At first, he’d chafed with the delay. He hadn’t spent very much time alone with Grace and, though she seemed to be warming up to him, he was still pretty sure she would rather have the place to herself. Still, she’d sat in her favorite easy chair, listening to his stories and laughing in all the right places. When Emma came home, he was almost sorry to leave. Almost.

As much as he loved his wife, Jake was looking forward to the long weekend of hunting, fishing, and batching it in the cabin. He had a hunch Jeb could channel his inner caveman when given the chance, and this was the perfect opportunity.

He hadn't been to the cabin all summer, except for the night they'd taken Cheri Jackson there for safety when her life had been threatened by an unknown attacker. Passing the city limits heading south, he felt his body begin to relax. He headed up the back side of Muddy Mountain to pick up Jeb, who was leaning against his toy hauler trailer, waiting.

“Thought we might want to bring this baby,” said Jeb, patting the toy hauler.

Jake whistled as he looked over the two-man ATV that was strapped to the trailer. “Man, I’ve always wanted one of these.”

“Does make it easier to haul an elk than having to quarter it and pack it out.”

“Heck yeah. Let’s get this baby hooked up and get going. We’re burning daylight.”

Jake had to force himself to keep to the speed limit as they headed down the freeway. It had been one long year since he and Emma had found Sherry Thorn's frozen body. So much death and deception had been uncovered since then, each revelation bringing a new shock to his system. With the source of the corruption finally uprooted, Jake was looking forward to having things return to normal.

It's not gonna stay normal if I run for County Attorney,
he reminded himself.

“So what’s your thinking on the CA race, Jake?” said Jeb, cutting into his thoughts.

“Not much different than it was yesterday. The challenge of getting my hands on that office and making it work for the victims but for justice, too, that’s exciting.”

“A steady paycheck would be nice, too, I’ll bet.”

“With paid holidays, paid vacations, and health insurance. Yeah, believe me, I’ve thought of that.”

“I held onto my day job a long time after I started writing. If it weren’t for my uncle buying out my share of the family ranch, I don’t know that I might not still be working that day job.”

“But you’ve got, what, six best sellers?”

“Eight, but who’s counting? Nah, Jake. I made more on the first movie deal than I have with all my book sales combined.”

“Seriously?”

“Thank God my agent negotiated a cut of the profits.”

“And thank God they got Rod Hammer to star in it.”

Jeb chuckled. “Was that Hammer? I only had eyes for Olga Norbella.”

“As did every red-blooded man who saw that movie. Only I don’t remember her character wearing a bikini for half the book like she did in the movie.”

“Director’s gotta have some creative license, or so they kept telling me. Ah well, his creative license has made me a wealthy man.”

“Not to mention the three sequels.”

“Which I participated in only to the extent of cashing the checks. Yep, Hollywood’s been good to this old boy.”

They discussed the various scantily clad super models who had graced the subsequent films and covered the distance without noticing the time. Jake pulled into the clearing just as his stomach gave a massive rumble, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten before he left the house, and it was well past lunchtime.

Jake unlocked the door to the old cabin and asked Jeb to start opening windows to let out the stale air. Jake’s grandfather built the cabin in 1936, and it had passed to his father thirty years later. His father's contribution had been electricity and a rustic system of indoor plumbing. Emma had been grateful when Jake walled off a tiny bathroom in a corner of the cabin.