Fires of Autumn (34 page)

“Would you
have been done with it had you not met me?”

“No. 
You’ve changed my life completely, Casey. You make me want to be a better man.”

That
brought a smile to her pale lips. “That’s such a sweet thing to say,” she
whispered.  “I love you so much.”

He kissed
her forehead and pulled her back against him, holding her close. “Go to sleep,”
he whispered. “You’ve had a busy day.”

Casey
closed her eyes, lulled by his warm body and deep voice.  “Do you work
tomorrow?”

He sighed
with contentment, closing his eyes. “If you’re off, I’m off.”

“I’m off.”

“Then I
wonder what we can do with a day off?”

Eyes closed,
Casey grinned. She had a pretty good idea.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“These
pictures are perfect,” Mr. Meade said with satisfaction. “This is exactly what
we’ve been looking for.  This is direct evidence of Russ Talbot allowing the
drug cartel to land their shipments in the New Mexico desert.”

“It’s
pictures of the president and men in the desert with an airplane,” Colt pointed
out. “There’s no way to prove those men are drug cartel or that Talbot is doing
anything illegal. They’re just pictures.”

Mr. Meade
was still looking at the photographs, spread out across his two hundred year
old oak desk.  He was fixated on them.

“We have
these photographs,” he looked up at Colt. “We have the bank statement records.
We have all the pieces to the puzzle and they tell the story.”

Colt
cocked an eyebrow. “What we don’t have is the sources of the big deposits to
Swissbanc and an eyewitness,” he said. “Katy Ross saw what she saw from afar.
She wasn’t present; she didn’t hear what was said and she doesn’t have inside
knowledge of any of those transactions she took pictures of. It’s purely
circumstantial and you know it.”

“It’s
enough to start an investigation.”

“An
investigation that’s going to drag Talbot through the mud whereupon, I suspect,
he’ll be acquitted.” He went for the bottle of Glenfidditch even though it
hadn’t been offered to him; he found he needed it. “When you assigned this to
me, it was to find irrefutable evidence.  These puzzle pieces make for a good
story but it’s not solid proof. However, I think I did find something,
something I didn’t mention before.”

Meade was
interested. “What is that?”

Colt sat
heavily in one of the old wingback chairs that lined Mr. Meade’s library.  The
ancient leather creaked under his weight.

“When I
took all of those photographs of his financial records, there were other
records mixed in,” he said quietly. “Do you recall? There was a file of medical
bills from that time for treatment for his children.”

“And?”

“And, I
spent all night, one night, adding up what he’d spent for treatments over the
years,” he replied. “It came to a little less than three hundred thousand
dollars.  Then I added up what he donated to the National Cystic Fibrosis
Foundation between 1987 and 1999, and that totaled up to around six hundred
thousand dollars. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

Mr. Meade
was silent a moment, thinking. “I believe I do,” he said after a moment. “The
deposits into
Swissbanc
totaled around nine hundred thousand.”

“Yes.”

“If you
add up what Talbot spent on treatment for his boys against what he donated to
charity, the amount is about the same.”

“Exactly.
“

Mr.
Meade’s eyebrows rose. “He spent all of the money he received from the
Columbians on treatment and charities?”

“It looks
that way.”

“If we did
convene a grand jury, they would dig in to that link and, I suspect, come up
with the truth.”

Colt
didn’t reply.  He sighed deeply, looking at his drink, perhaps pondering where
all of this had brought them. Mr. Meade was watching him.

“You
disagree?”

Colt
shrugged. “I told you this before. I’m simply finding it difficult to convict a
man for doing everything he could to try and save the lives of his two boys. 
Who’s to say that in a similar position, I wouldn’t do the same thing?”

Mr.
Meade’s gaze lingered on Colt a moment before looking back to the photographs
spread out over his desk.

“This is
no time to develop a heart and soul, Colt,” he said quietly. “You have a job to
do.”

“And I’m
doing it.”

“Dispense
with the sympathy or this will crumble.”

“I’m not
showing sympathy. I’m simply voicing my opinion.”

Meade
looked up from the photographs. “Ms. Cleburne has two boys, doesn’t she?”

Colt’s
dark eyes turned to him, hardness evident. “She does.”

Meade
could see he had to be careful with how he presented his thoughts.  Colt was
always very edgy when discussing Casey Cleburne, although he tried to hide it.
Mr. Meade had known him too long not to see the change come over him.   He was
very much attached to her.

“She has
served her purpose,” he said quietly. “Perhaps it is time to move on.”

Colt had
suspected that directive was going to come down one of these days but found he
was ill prepared for it.  He struggled not to become emotional or enraged.

“I’m not
moving on from her,” he said softly.

“Why not?”

“Because I
love her.”

Mr. Meade
sighed heavily as confirmation came of what he already knew. “I fear she’s
clouding your judgement, Colt.”

“She’s not
clouding anything. I can and will keep her separate from my task, so don’t
worry about it.”

“But I do
worry,” Meade insisted. “I’ve known you for many years, Colt, and I’ve only
known you to get emotional one other time.”

“Leave
Katja out of this.”

It was a
threat.  Colt had reached his limit and now, the threats were coming. Meade’s
gaze lingered on him a moment before lowering his head back to the photographs.

“I will
contact you another time,” he said, pretending to busy himself with the images.
“You may go.”

Colt got
up out of the chair and left without another word.  By the time he hit the
driveway outside, he was trembling.  All he could think about was getting back
to Casey and forgetting the rotting old man stuffed up in the old coffin of a
house.  He had to get the smell and image out of his mind.

Mr. Meade
heard Colt’s car tear off down the driveway.  As the sound faded away, he
picked up the phone and made a single call.

Peter
picked up on the second ring.

***

Christmas
time in Washington was a magical time.   It had snowed heavily the day before
Christmas, so they had been blessed with a winter wonderland on Christmas Day. 
It had almost been enough to offset Casey’s disapproval at the completely cool
new skateboard that Colt got Brody for Christmas and the sporty new bike he got
for Hunter.  There was much joy for the young men of the Cleburne household on
Christmas morning.

Shocked at
the awesome gifts from their mom’s boyfriend, the boys were willing recruits to
Team Colt for the holidays.  Casey hadn’t really had the heart to chastise Colt
about the controversial skateboard, given the fact that he’d never had kids to
buy presents for other than his niece and nephews. He had really enjoyed doing
it and it helped bond him with her sons, so Casey’s disapproval vanished
completely by the time  they were eating Christmas Eve dinner.

It was
snowing heavily outside as Casey brought the beautiful crown roast to the
dining room table.  Riley had charge of the mashed potatoes while the boys had
charge of the vegetables.  Colt was the bartender, making sure everyone got
something to drink.   The fire in the fireplace crackled softly as Casey dimmed
the lights and lit the candles, making everything beautiful and glowing. It was
a festive winter’s eve. Colt held out Casey’s chair for her as everyone took
their seats around her dining room table.

Once
everyone was seated, Casey looked around at her little family, feeling more
happiness than she could express.  There was a completeness to it now with
Colt’s presence.  He made the circle full. Casey smiled at Colt as she spoke.

“It’s a
little tradition around here on Christmas Day dinner to tell everyone what
you’re thankful for,” she said. “My parents started the tradition and I’ve
carried it on with my kids.  Now that you’re at our table, you have to tell us
what you’re thankful for, too.”

Colt
grinned at her; dressed in jeans and a grey pull-over sweater, he looked
dreamy, like he had just walked off the pages of a men’s magazine.  Casey
hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him for most of the day.  He lifted his
big shoulders.

“Fair
enough,” he said. “For the price of a meal, I’ll do it.”

She
laughed softly. “Good,” she said, looking around the table. “I guess I’ll
start.  I’m really thankful for my family, for the good things in my life, and
for Colt.  I’m so glad he’s been able to share the holidays with us.”

Riley just
grinned, looking between Colt and her sister and seeing how much in love they
were. It was really good to see.

“I’m
thankful for all of this snow,” she said. “Hunter?”

Hunter
looked around the table, thinking. “I’m thankful that I have my bedroom back
because Gramma and Grampa are gone.  But I’m really thankful for my new bike. 
I hope I get to ride it when all of this snow goes away. Thanks again, Colt.”

Everyone
giggled as Colt acknowledged the gratitude. Then the attention turned to
Brody.  Ever the performer, he stood up and held up his water glass as if he
was toasting.

“I’m
thankful for my mother,” he announced, his gaze moving from Casey to Riley. “And
for Aunt Riley, and for Colt because if he hadn’t given me my new skateboard,
I’d probably be fifty years old by the time I got another one. If anyone else
had given it to me, my mom would have made me give it back, so thank you, Colt,
for the ‘board.  You have the power, dude.”

Casey
shook her head reproachfully at her son, grinning, as the table burst out in
laughter.  Colt had really come to like Brody over the past several weeks, the
wily kid with the heart of gold.  He was a sly one and definitely knew how to
work his mother.  When Brody took a bow and sat back down, all eyes turned to
Colt.  His smile faded and he cleared his throat softly.

“Well,” he
began, his eyes moving over the Cleburne Clan.  “I think the last time a
Sheridan met up with a Cleburne, it didn’t go so well.  I’ve got to tell you;
when I took on my new job a couple of months ago, never in my wildest dreams
did I expect to meet someone like Casey Cleburne.  I could never have imagined
my life to turn out the way it has since then and to tell you the truth, I
still wake up in the morning and pinch myself.  It’s like a dream.  So I guess
I’m thankful to all of you for not only accepting a Sheridan into your home,
but into your family as well.  I’m thankful that you four have always made me
feel so welcome.  I’ve never had that before.”

Casey
reached over and grasped his hand, squeezing it.  “We’re thankful for you,
too.”

Thinking
the ‘thankful’ speeches were over, the boys began to grab at the mashed
potatoes but Colt stopped them. “Hang on,” he said, looking at the two young
men. “There’s something more I want to say.  As you all have probably figured
out, I’m pretty crazy about your mother.  I love her very much.  In fact, I
kind of fell in love with all of you in a sense, so when I thought about
proposing to your mother, I realized I had to do it to the whole family because
she comes with a sister and two sons. Therefore, I’d like to ask your
permission to ask your mother to marry me.”

The boys
looked surprised, grinning, glancing at each other and at Riley, who was
starting to tear up.  Brody was the first one to nod his head.

“Sure,” he
said, wondering why both his mother and aunt were starting to cry. “Are you
going to live here with us?”

“If you’ll
have me.”

They were
looking at Hunter, who was sitting back in his seat, looking at his mother. 
The initial smile on his face at Colt’s question was fading. “Mom?” he asked.
“Why are you crying? Don’t you want to marry him?”

Casey
wiped at her eyes. “Yes, I do, very much,” she sniffed. “I’m just really
happy.”

Hunter
thought on that a moment, pondering the times in the past when he had seen his
mother cry that hadn’t been under happy circumstances. He didn’t like it in the
least. Then he looked at Colt.

“Do you
swear you won’t make her cry?” he nearly demanded.

Colt’s
eyebrows lifted as he pointed to Casey. “I can’t,” he said. “She’s crying now.”