Unraveled (23 page)

Kelly retrieved her mug from the microwave and took a deep sip of extra hot coffee.
Now, that’s more like it
. Fortified, she returned to her desk and computer, ready to tackle the next spreadsheet. Then she noticed the messenger icon indicating she had e-mail. Deciding that she had time to indulge a minor distraction, she clicked and watched as her e-mail program flashed on the screen.

Peering at the name, she didn’t recognize it. Then, she saw the subject line. “Per your request for German pistol.” That had to be the dealer from the Denver gun show who promised he’d check his files for her. She clicked on the subject line, and the e-mail message appeared on her screen.

Kelly Flynn—I checked my files and found three other dealers that often have German Mauser pistols like the one in your photo. Good luck on your hunt. J. Bridger.

Kelly read the three dealer names printed below Bridger’s message. Next to each name was a website address or a phone number. Indulging her curiosity, Kelly started clicking on the websites.

The first dealer, named Belzer, liver in Michigan. Kelly browsed through his website, which had several pages of weapons pictured. Most of them were old Western Colt revolvers or early 1800s dueling pistols. None of them matched the German Mauser. Kelly clicked on the “contact me” button, which brought her to Belzer’s e-mail program. Kelly wrote a polite request for information on the vintage World War Two pistol and attached the digital photo from her files, then sent it off. Clicking on the second website, Kelly searched the photos of firearms. Not finding a matching pistol on that website, either, she sent off an identical e-mail and photo to that dealer in Ohio.

Returning to the gun show dealer’s e-mail, Kelly scribbled down the third man’s name and phone number. Faber from Texas. Kelly picked up her cell phone and was about to call the dealer when the phone rang in her hand. Burt’s name and number flashed on the screen.

“Hey, Kelly, I bet I got you in the middle of client work, right?”

“That’s okay, Burt. I was taking a break. What’s up?” She leaned back in her desk chair and sipped her coffee. Checking her watch, she noticed it was past lunchtime. No wonder she was getting hungry. “Are you over at the shop? I could run over and you could join me for lunch. I’m getting hungry.”

Burt chuckled. “I’d love to, Kelly, but I’m in the midst of running shop errands right now. But, I wanted to let you know what I heard from county cop Paul. He called me a little while ago. Turns out he and Peterson went over to see Housemann first thing yesterday morning. They were questioning him while we were talking about it in the café.”

Kelly jerked her chair upright. “Really? What did they find out? Did Housemann admit his affair with Renee Turner?”

“He sure did. Paul said he looked really nervous, too. But he turned white as a sheet when Peterson said someone saw him up at Turner’s cabin that Saturday morning.”

Kelly’s stomach started to twist, worrying about Housemann. “Oh, brother . . . what’d he say?”

“Paul said he admitted it and didn’t try to deny it. He told Peterson everything. Apparently he’d gone up to the cabin because he’d learned from his real estate agent that there was another offer on the table. His agent had talked with Turner’s assistant that morning and found out. Once Housemann heard that, he said he figured Turner was trying to cheat him out of a deal again, so he decided he’d go up to the canyon and confront Turner. He wanted to find out about this other buyer. You know, Birmingham.”

“Yeah, the one who disappeared into the mist.”

“Anyway, that’s why he went. Then Peterson asked him about the argument. Again, telling Housemann they have a witness who saw Housemann and Turner yelling at each other, and Housemann following Turner into the cabin. Paul said when Housemann heard that, he just sank into his chair, looking like the air went out of him. Then he admitted he’d had an argument with Turner that got ugly. But he swore that Fred Turner was alive when he drove away.”

Kelly let everything Burt said sift through her head. She felt so sorry for Arthur Housemann. Police had a witness to prove Housemann had a fight with Turner right before his death. But Housemann had no way to prove he wasn’t complicit. No witness to confirm that Turner was still alive when Housemann drove off. Renee Turner swore that Turner was already dead when she arrived, which was only minutes before Kelly and Jennifer stumbled in on Turner’s dead body. Kelly’s stomach twisted again. Her client, good and decent Arthur Housemann, was looking guiltier by the minute.

“Wow, Burt, it’s looking really bad for Housemann, isn’t it? I feel so . . . so sorry for him.”

“Yeah. Paul said Housemann begged Peterson to try and keep the news quiet about his earlier affair with Renee Turner. He said the affair nearly destroyed his marriage years ago and said he broke it off when his wife threatened to walk out on him and take the kids.” Kelly heard a long sigh on the other end of the phone. “He swore he hadn’t been with Renee since.”

“Oh, that is so sad, Burt,” Kelly said, leaning her arms on her desk.

“Yeah, it is, Kelly. And that’s why a detective’s job is so hard on you. Take it from me. You hear all these sad stories from people who’ve committed crimes, and you want to believe them, but the facts tell another story.”

“Does Paul think Housemann killed Turner? Does Peterson?”

“Paul didn’t say one way or the other, Kelly. He’s not like Dan, who gives you his gut response right away.”

“What’s your gut response so far?”

Burt let out a long sigh. “I can’t tell, Kelly. I have to be in front of someone, look into their eyes, watch how they react before I get a gut reading. I can’t listen to the rundown on the phone and come up with anything. Right now, it looks like either Renee Turner or Arthur Housemann could have killed Turner. Apparently, Peterson told Housemann that both he and Renee were the only ones seen at the cabin during the time when Turner was still alive. You and Jennifer arrived just as Renee drove off, and Turner was dead by then.”

Burt was right. Facts were facts and often told another story. No matter how much we might like them not to. And the facts showed that Housemann and Renee Turner were the only ones who came to see Fred Turner before she and Jennifer arrived at the cabin and found Turner dead.

From the back of Kelly’s mind, that niggling little thought buzzed again.
What about the British guy, Birmingham ?
He’d made the appointment that brought Fred Turner to the cabin that Saturday morning. What if he showed up in between Housemann and Renee?

Her logical side tried to dismiss the idea of mysterious client Birmingham. It had proved a dead end. It led nowhere, Burt said. But every time she tried, those little buzzing thoughts kept nagging at her.

She’d give it one last try. She knew Burt had dismissed Birmingham long ago, but she ventured anyway. “Do you think there’s any possibility that guy Birmingham might have come up to the cabin between Housemann’s and Renee’s visits? What if he was someone from Turner’s past? Someone who was cheated by Turner and finally decided to get even.”

“That’s a good theory, Kelly, except we’ve got Benjamin as a witness. And he said he saw Housemann’s car, Turner’s and Renee’s trucks, and Jennifer’s car. And a smaller black one that probably belonged to a real estate agent because it had been there before. And Birmingham’s message said he was anxious to see the property. That sounds like he hadn’t seen it before. So, it couldn’t be him.”

“Yeah, I remember about the cars, but there are a lot of black cars on the road, Burt. And it doesn’t sound like shaggy Benjamin really eyeballed the car. Maybe two different black cars drove up that day. A real estate agent and Birmingham. What if?”

“You’re grasping at straws, Kelly.”

Kelly expelled a breath. “Yeah, I know, but Birmingham keeps popping into the back of my head, Burt. Plus, that old German war pistol keeps bothering me. It’s connected somehow. I can feel it.”

“Well, for the record, Paul said Housemann was asked if he collected guns, and he said he didn’t. In fact, Housemann said he’d never owned a gun.”

“Well, that’s something, I guess.”

“Yeah, but not much. You know how easy it is to get guns. Who knows where it came from? Either Housemann or Renee found a gun somewhere.”

“Unfortunately, that would mean one of them decided to kill Fred Turner, which is premeditated murder. Murder in the first degree.”

“You got it, Sherlock. Listen, I’m pulling into a shopping center right now. I’ll talk to you later, Kelly. Bye.”

Kelly clicked off and tossed the phone to her desk. She felt awful now. The noose was tightening around both Arthur Housemann and Renee Turner. Which one would be left to swing in the wind?

Her stomach growled then, and Kelly suddenly got an idea. An urge, actually. She grabbed her briefcase and shoved the financial reports she was working on plus her notes inside. Then she went to the kitchen, riffled the cabinets until she found a power energy bar, and shoved that into her briefcase as well. Finding her keys beside her purse, she tossed on her jacket, swung her briefcase over her shoulder and headed out the cottage door.

She wanted to see Arthur Housemann. Wanted to talk with him, even about accounting issues, something, anything. She just wanted to be in the same room with him. See if she could get a read on what was going on with Housemann. They hadn’t had a face-to-face meeting since right before Fred Turner’s death.

Sliding into her car, Kelly turned the key and revved the engine. She wasn’t in her usual business suit, but she didn’t care. What she did care about was the man she’d worked with for a year. Was he still the good, decent honorable businessman she knew? Or had he turned into a cold-blooded killer overnight?

Kelly
smoothed her knitted sweater over her jeans, hitched her briefcase higher on her shoulder and pushed through the door to Housemann’s office. Secretary Doris looked up at her entry. Kelly noticed Doris looked a little surprised at Kelly’s attire but said nothing. Kelly also noticed Doris’s usual smile was missing.

“Hi, Doris,” Kelly said cheerily. “I know I don’t have an appointment, but I was going over these reports and I wanted to ask Arthur some questions if I can. Is he in?” She already noticed Housemann’s office door ajar, a sure sign that he was there.

“Yes, he is, Kelly. He’s cancelled most of his other appointments, but I’m sure he’ll make time for you. You two haven’t been able to get together for a while.” She picked up the phone and pressed a button. “Mr. Housemann, Kelly is here. She wondered if you have a few moments to look at some reports. All right, I’ll send her in.”

Kelly noticed that Doris’s normally cheerful demeanor was missing, and an expression of concern replaced it. Even the older woman’s voice sounded hesitant.

“Thank you, Doris. I appreciate it,” Kelly said, sending her a warm smile. Doris gave a weak smile in return. Clearly, Doris was perturbed by visits from Detective Peterson and fellow officers. The quiet real estate investment office wasn’t used to visitors like that.

Kelly knocked lightly on the partially open door, waiting for a response. Housemann’s door was usually open and inviting. Housemann’s entire office seemed to reflect the recent upheaval.

“Come in, Kelly,” Housemann’s voice called.

Kelly took a deep breath, slipped back into professional mode, and strode inside. Her relationship with Arthur Housemann had always been about business. Now, she was about to venture into personal territory. She would need to tread carefully. Everything that was happening in Housemann’s life was none of her business, and he would be shocked that she knew as much as she did.

“Arthur, I’m so glad you had a moment to see me,” she said, forcing a bright smile. “I promise I won’t take much of your time. I simply wanted you to look over these figures so you’ll know where we’re headed this month. I think you’ll be pleased.” She pulled the portfolio from her briefcase.

Housemann looked up and gave her a little smile. “Sit down, Kelly. It’s good to see you. I’m sorry I’ve been hard to reach lately.”

“I understand, sir,” she said, handing him the portfolio. “Business pressures.”

“I wish it were all business,” he said, smile evaporating as he spread the portfolio on his desk and started to read.

Kelly watched him survey the columns of figures and her written notes. “You’ll be glad to see that your careful planning has paid off, Arthur. Rental rates have risen and vacancy rates are way down. Profits are going up and I fully expect that to continue, given the increased demand for rental housing. The present economic environment has forced many people to leave their homes and become renters.”

Housemann nodded as he turned the pages, perusing the pages. “Good work, Kelly. You’re keeping an eagle eye on each market segment, I see from your notes. Excellent analysis, too, I must say.” He glanced at her from over the top of his reading glasses. “I’m going to depend on that eagle eye of yours over these next few months as I start to sell some of these properties.”

Kelly didn’t have to feign her surprise. “Sell them? But these are investment properties. I thought you planned to hold them for at least ten to fifteen years.”

“Plans change, Kelly,” Housemann said as he removed his glasses and sat back in his chair. “I don’t want to sell them. God knows I don’t. But I may be forced to.”

Kelly didn’t have to guess. She could feel the regret coming across from Housemann. He had to mean the impending legal issues. Lawyers cost money. A lot of money, especially if a criminal trial was involved. Kelly debated how best to venture into this forbidden territory and decided caution was the best policy, even though it was not her nature.

“Do you anticipate a sudden expenditure of some sort, Arthur? We were making future predictions in January, and you were still committed to keeping all the investment properties. Have you learned something new?”

Housemann glanced to Kelly, then toward the large windows that surrounded his corner desk. They looked out on Fort Connor’s northeastern views. North toward Wyoming, east toward the interstate and the farmlands stretching toward Kansas and Nebraska.