Red Ochre Falls (21 page)

“Oh my gosh. I
heard about it. Tab’s unstable.” And an addict, and possibly a killer.

“Anyway,” Tom
continued. “I’m okay now. That’s not why I wanted to talk to you. It’s about
Chloe. The night we were meeting, we discussed a land deal.

Chloe met a young
man named Walter Sigo, on one of her trips north. Walter explained he was in
some legal trouble, and Chloe offered to help. She took him to meet Oxley.
Oxley asked lots of questions and took notes, but then assigned me to help.”
Tom shifted nervously and checked the doorway twice during the time it took him
to get the first part of the story out.

“At first blush, it
looked like someone wanted the Sigo family’s land. Walter said they refused,
and pressure came from everywhere—the buyer, a local politician, and even
tribe members—to accept a revised deal.

Chloe really wanted
to help the Sigo’s. She told me it wasn’t fair they were being bullied. Walter
Sigo told her a lawman came to evict them, stating the land belonged to the
government, but he had no paperwork, so Walter’s brother was able to talk him
into leaving.

Chloe became
obsessed. She set up camp in Michigan to sift through old court documents and
conduct interviews, all to strengthen the Sigo family’s position.”

It’s funny, I
thought of Chloe as he spoke. Imagining her going after cases to gain law
experience. It must have been exciting to help people, and chase down leads.
Lord knows, I’d thought a lot about being a lawyer to help people when I was
younger. But, life blew up, so my plans changed.

“A couple weeks
ago,” Tom continued. “Chloe called me excited, but anxious. She’d uncovered
information that would help Walter Sigo’s family. We scheduled a meeting to
review in person, because she said it wasn’t safe to talk on the phone.

The night we met,
she started to tell me about a deal between Ruggiano and some politician. Chloe
had proof something illegal was going on—”

I heard Garrett and
Jos coming up the back hall. Tom got so nervous, sweat beaded up on his
forehead. “I should leave. I can’t afford to get caught. Take this.”

Tom handed me a
small paper and a LEGO keychain. Dangling from the chain was one silver key. It
looked like a hundred other keys I’ve seen that unlock various doors. His gaze
shifted to the entrances and back again.

“This will get you
into Chloe’s place.” Tom shifted nervously. “She found something big, and
wanted to loop you in for some reason. We didn’t get to that part before I was carted
off in an ambulance because Tab used me as a punching bag. Last time we spoke,
she told me she’d been threatened. Chloe hid her files. The next I knew, she
was killed.”

It was the first
I’d heard someone confidently say Chloe was killed, not that she had killed
herself. Confused, sad, and happy, I stood wondering if I should hug him or
hide him. The poor guy looked shaken.

“The information
you need is in her files. Maybe it’ll help. I’d look for it myself, but they
threatened me.”

“Who threatened you?”
I asked, but he just went pale.

“I can’t take any
chances.” Tom grabbed my arms, and stared at me with desperate intensity. “I’ve
got a kid on the way. Chloe was a nice person. She didn’t deserve this. Please,
get help and find out who killed her. But make sure the people you trust, are
people you’d trust with your life.”

The door swung open
and he let go of my arms. My eyes turned to see Jos and Garrett walk in the
room. By the time I looked back, Tom was gone. Poof!

I glanced at the
clues in my hands then closed them up tight. I wasn’t going to let them get
away.

CHAPTER 17

The expressions on their faces made it hard to determine if they were
about to ground me, or launch into a full-blown intervention.

“Who was that guy?”
Jos asked.

“Somebody who
worked with Chloe,” I said, not knowing how much to reveal. Tom was suspicious,
and he thought someone was watching him, so I explained he was a co-worker
expressing his condolences.

I made an effort to
appear relaxed, but if anyone looked closely at me they’d see cracks in the
facade.

Garrett studied me
briefly. “It’s almost time for the service.” For a moment there was a faraway
look in his eyes, but there was so much noise in my head I didn’t ask.

Jos knew I was a bundle
of emotions. Heck, we all were. But having to bury a friend only 18 months
after burying my grandma felt so tragic. Death wasn’t supposed to make
sense—the finality a mystery, maybe meant to remind the living to
appreciate even the most difficult days.

We moved back into
the viewing room and sat a couple rows back and diagonally from the Ellis
Family: Chloe’s mom, dad, and younger sister sat up front.

Ryder gave a brief
welcome speech then yielded the podium to the minister from Chloe’s
church.
 
He mixed religious
scriptures with anecdotes in a personalized speech. He told us all how he’d
watched her grow from a precocious child into an accomplished young adult. It
sounded beautiful, but I tuned it out to avoid bawling.

I stared at the floor,
at the decorations, the wallpaper, and the flowers. Everything looked opulent
and polished, but Chloe looked like a plastic doll sleeping in the coffin,
lovely and lifeless.

How could someone
kill another person? This, in my mind, was how it boiled down. Someone had
killed Chloe, and they must have had a reason. I couldn’t imagine killing could
come easily, so it must have been driven by fear, anger, revenge, or something
big.

Chloe wasn’t the
violent type, so it probably wasn’t done out of self-defense. In fact, it
seemed more likely to be out of greed, or passion. Chloe was not the silent
type. If she thought someone was doing something wrong, she would have spoken
up. Maybe using her voice, or threatening to, was what got her killed. I needed
to find out more about the secret files she hid, and how I figured into this
mess.

A stifled cry came
from Chloe’s little sister, and sent the room reeling. Jenny was up at the
podium sharing stories, and telling us Chloe was a great sis, and how she
missed her so much it hurt.

My sadness morphed
into anger for what Jenny had been through, and her unbearable loss. Jos
squeezed my arm reassuringly, but bitterness and determination took over. It
was a lucky thing the pastor stepped in and started the prayers, or I might
have screamed like a banshee and fled out the back door before the service was
over. Instead, I waited anxiously until Garrett and Ryder gave final departure
instructions and dismissed us.

Jos was on my heels
after I left. “I can drive.” She wasn’t asking.

I shook my head
yes, grabbed my bag, and pulled out a couple extra tissues before heading
outside. The storm that looked like it was directly above us earlier must have
pushed east, because the air was calmer, and the sun peered through the clouds
above.

The procession wove
its way through the city and into a slice of adjacent country that looked like
summer fields from another time. Chloe’s messages started replaying in my
mind.
 

Her first was an
innocuous call to ‘catch-up’ then a text, and another call. Each time the
urgency increased, which I might have noticed had I been paying any sort of
real attention to her. To me, it seemed like her usual drama over increasing
work pressures, or Tab—I’d seen the cycle of abuse and washed my hands of
it when I left school.

I assumed Chloe was
in the same cycle as before, so I dismissed her easily.
How could she
complain about those things when mom was recovering from heart surgery, and
neither of us had a job?

Turned out she
wasn’t calling to go over her usual set of problems; she called to get help.
How stupid and self-absorbed could I have been? I’d abandoned my friend and
failed her.

The scent of late
summer filled my nostrils as Jos put the windows down. We were almost there,
wherever there was.
 

We hung a right
near a creek. Then wandered back and forth until reaching the spot. The hearse
pulled over, and the rest of us parked behind it half-on, half-off a stretch of
dirt road adjacent to the burial plot.

The cemetery
workers had been busy. The headstone was in place, and the grave dug. We
watched as Ryder and Garrett unloaded the coffin and the pallbearers carried it
to the site.

The congregation
slowly made its way to Chloe’s grave. A few chairs were placed up near the
casket for the family, and the frail. Two vibrant sprays of flowers flanked the
casket, and several buckets of yellow roses were placed around the site, while
a tent covered the whole circus. More kind and spiritual words were uttered as
she levitated in her wooden state above ground.

I stared into the
pit. I’d never noticed it before, but there was a metal insert, the shape and
size of the grave, in the ground. It dawned on me, the rusted iron was put in
place so the weight of the earth wouldn’t collapse the grave, or crush the casket
before it was lowered. I wondered how many holes the gravediggers had dug.
Looked like a lot from here.

What happened after
we left and the dirt was replaced? It wasn’t as if there were underground
cameras or monitors to watch the dead. Although, I bet someone, somewhere
already had that kind of hookup.

Occasionally, my
eyes lifted to give a suspicious glance as relatives, friends, and
acquaintances showered her casket with roses. How could this happen? Who did
it? Chloe couldn’t have. Was it someone she knew?

The trees stood
tall and green, with hints of yellow and orange to signal the coming change. I
took a final look at the casket then stepped forward to say goodbye. Before the
tears could flow, I let the flower fall and turned to leave.

In slow motion, I
walked past the graves of strangers and family members, past the cars, and back
to the creek. Most likely a tributary from the Ohio. I sat down, pulled my
dress over my knees, buried my head in the fabric and began to cry.

The pain was raw.
Part of it remained from grandma’s funeral, part of it was attributed to a very
real fear over mom’s condition—why wasn’t she back from her trip yet?
Most of it was overpowering guilt blotched with anxiety. Time ticked by while
tears flowed and ebbed. I sat alone and cursed death.

“Wanna talk about
it?” Jos sat down next to me.

I shook my head no,
and we sat wordless for a while.

My eyes hurt from
crying, but I could see, with some effort, this was a beautiful place. The sun
glimmered through breezy leaves, and dotted the landscape.
 

“I called your
mom,” Jos broke the silence.

“You what?”

“Your mom, I called
her. She needed to know you were hurting.”

“But, Jos—”

“Lord knows you
weren’t going to tell her.” Jos was right. I’d have been on the deck of the
Titanic saying everything was fine, even as it sank, if it meant mom wouldn’t
have a reason to worry. We sort of played this game of stoicism from time to
time. Mostly, it was just a delay tactic, because inevitably we’d break down
and share whatever bothered us. It always made us feel better to talk. But, we
had a habit of doing the same song and dance before we could get it out.

I smiled at her.
“You’re a good friend.”

“Are you off duty
for a while?”

“I think so, but I
better check.”

“Good, then let’s go
see Mr. Gorgeous. Be serious, or bat your eyelashes. Whatever. Just tell him
you’ve earned a break, okay? Now, let’s get out of here,” she helped me up off
the ground. “And I’m a great friend.” No arguments there.

Garrett was
concerned and already looking for us when we ran into him. There was no problem
getting time to grab a bite with Jos. I thanked him, and promised to be back,
and check in, by 7 pm. The tires kicked up stones and dirt when we pulled away.

Driving was a blur.
Thank goodness Jos offered to do it. We headed toward the horizon with the
windows down, listening to the air whipping through the car. There wasn’t a
coherent thought in my head for the half hour it took her to find a restaurant.
She told me ahead of time she’d pay, knowing I’d worry about how to do it
myself. Like I tended to do about so many things these days. Instead, my senses
absorbed the scenery: glorious and bright, with the wood-smoke scent of harvest
time.

Hitting a diner, in
my opinion, was the perfect way to end a funeral day. Diner food is comfort
food, and we needed a big dose of food and comfort.

I skipped my usual
breakfast order, and opted for grilled cheese. Jos didn’t have to twist my arm
much to get me to order a shake, too.

We sat, sipped then
ate. Nothing was off-limits. We talked about everything from families and
school, to tragedies, and work, which was its own tragedy for me. As I lamented
the short supply of high-wage jobs for people with my skills, Jos eyed me
funny.

“Your mom is coming
back in a couple days.”

I gave her an
incredulous look. “It would have been nice if she’d told me herself.” I took a
draw off my black and white, a divine concoction of chocolate and vanilla ice
creams blended together then topped with a pile of whipped cream and chocolate
shavings. The only thing that might have made it better was Kahlua. Only, I
needed to keep a clear head if I was going to get any research done later.

“She’ll tell you
next time you call. You were sort of busy with the funeral. She told me when I
called.”

“When did you call
her?”

“Right before I ran
into Garrett.”

“You mean when you
guys were talking about my sanity after you spoke with mom?”

She laughed.
“Mattie, he was concerned. You’re a strong person, but sometimes even strong
people need help. I only told him what seemed relevant.”

I eyed her
suspiciously.

“You know I’m
right.” Jos held her ground, and we both dug into the food as soon as the
plates hit the table.

I was pleasantly
full when the conversation picked up.

“Are you okay?” Jos
asked.

“In what way?”

“Start at the top,
and work your way down.”

“I’m worried. Mom
doesn’t sound right, guys are stalking me, strangers are giving me clues into
Chloe’s death, but everything feels weird.”

“Maybe it’s the
jalapenos you put on your grilled cheese.”

“Ha, ha,” I mocked.
“Not what I meant. But they’ll probably come back to haunt me tonight.”

“So, tell me
Indiana Jones, what clues did you get?” Jos sat up to sip her shake.

“Indiana, huh? I
wish. Indy gets golden idols and global adventures; I got a LEGO keychain, and
a crumpled paper with a Michigan address.”

“Michigan could be
interesting. What’s the plan? Give everything to the cops?”

“There is an
officer I trust, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to give these up yet.”

“You aren’t planning
to investigate this yourself?”

“No, of course
not.” I feigned indignation, but secretly knew she was right, going it alone
was exactly what I’d considered. Jos had been at the top of my list of
sidekicks until she made that comment. I hadn’t exactly made up with my friends
since returning to the city. Who had time? We were settling into a new place
and I had responsibilities.

So, I would do it
myself, except it would be smarter to have back up. Someone strong, reliable,
and available. Garrett was strong and reliable, I wasn’t sure about available,
but two out of three would do. Whether it was a good idea, or not, we’d find
out.

Even with the key,
it might not be totally legal, or safe to get into Chloe’s. Maybe I could beg
him to help me. No, lure him with a promise to train like a soldier—it
shouldn’t be too hard once he realized how much help I needed. Being a Special
Ops guy, he’d be ready to poke holes in any plan I offered, so it needed to be
a good one.

“You’ve got that
look in your eyes,” Jos said, and I snapped back to reality.

“What look?” I
drank more shake.
 

Jos shook her head.
“Whatever you’re up to, make sure to keep me in the loop. You know, in case you
need help, or bail.”

I smiled and sat my
glass down.

She paid, I tipped,
and we left.

Jos told me all the
ways she barely survived her family visit on our ride home. We wound through
back roads as daylight slipped away. I laughed at the pranks her younger
cousins pulled. The boys (now teenagers) couldn’t get their grandpa to fall for
the plastic wrap over the toilet seat trick, but they did get Jos. She wasn’t
happy they also froze her bras while she went swimming. She set them out to
thaw. The boys found them and froze them again—she ended up in her
bathing suit most of the weekend, to keep things G-rated.