FIREWORKS IN PARADISE Read online

  Chapter 7

  Saturday, July 1

  The next morning, I decided to head to the hospital first thing. It was going to be a busy day, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus unless I was able to assure myself that Dad was continuing to improve. Hunter said it would take time for Dad to heal, and I knew I should be patient, but patience was something I really didn’t have.

  Once I arrived on the third floor, I headed toward the reception desk. The nurse who usually manned the desk appeared to have stepped out and I didn’t see anyone else in the area, so I let myself into Dad’s room. As I had on my other visits I sat on the chair and took Dad’s hand in mine.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” I asked conversationally. I really wasn’t expecting a response, but it seemed silly to sit there and not speak. “You look a little better today. Your color seems to be improving, and while I’m not a doctor so this isn’t an official observation, you seem to be resting easier.”

  I paused as I looked around the room. It was another beautiful day and it hurt my heart that Dad wasn’t awake to enjoy it. I knew that the long days of summer, when the resort was booked to capacity and the campground smelled of smoke from the campfires, was his favorite time of the year.

  “I’m not sure if you can hear me or if you are even thinking about things in there, but I wanted to let you know Grandpa and the girls are home. Grandpa was here yesterday and the girls want to come by, but there are age limitations in the ICU. You know, if you would wake up, I could probably arrange for a visit.”

  I glanced at the heart monitor as it beeped steadily. Nothing had changed since my previous visit, but things weren’t any worse. I supposed I should be grateful for that.

  “Doc and Kyle will be home later today. I can’t believe how fast they managed to get things handled. It’ll be good to have everyone back in Paradise Lake. Now all we need is for you to come home and things can once again settle into a normal routine.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was just so hard. I wanted to believe Dad would be okay, but what if he never woke up? I felt a single tear slide down my cheek. I let go of Dad’s hand to wipe it away and when I looked back I swore I saw a finger move.

  “Dad? Are you in there?”

  Hunter had warned me about involuntary twitches, but I wanted so badly to believe.

  “Can you hear the sound of my voice?”

  Nothing.

  I stared at Dad’s hand and willed it to move.

  “If you can hear me, Dad, move a finger.”

  I jumped when his finger moved just a bit.

  “Nurse!” I yelled as loud as I could.

  The woman who must have returned to the front desk came running. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

  “My dad moved his finger. Get Dr. Hanson. If he isn’t in the hospital call his cell.”

  She walked over and took a closer look at the monitor. “Are you sure you saw him move? Sometimes our imaginations play tricks on us.”

  “I’m sure. Just call Hunter.”

  The nurse glanced back at the bed.

  “Now!” I emphasized.

  She turned and left the room. I’d call Hunter myself, but there wasn’t any cell reception in this part of the hospital, and I didn’t want to leave Dad to go downstairs. Apparently Hunter was in the hospital, because he showed up in the room in less than five minutes.

  “You had me paged?” Hunter asked.

  “Dad moved his finger.”

  Hunter approached the bed and looked at the monitor readings.

  “I told him to move his finger if he could hear me and he did. Does that mean he’s waking up?”

  “Maybe,” Hunter answered. With one finger, he opened one of Dad’s eyelids. Then he shone a light into the eye. “I need to run some tests before I know for sure.”

  “Did you hear that, Dad? Hunter’s going to run some tests. Show him that you can move your finger.”

  I stared at Dad’s hand. It took five or so seconds, but Dad moved his finger once again.

  Hunter smiled.

  “So he is waking up?” I asked.

  “Like I said, I need to run some tests, but yeah, moving a finger in response to a verbal cue is a very good sign.” Hunter looked at his watch. “Even if he is waking up, though, it won’t happen immediately. I’m going to order the tests. Why don’t you go home? I’ll call you when I know more.”

  I hated to leave just in case Dad did wake up, but Hunter insisted I couldn’t stay with him during the tests, which would take several hours at least.

  As soon as I returned to Grandpa’s truck, I called Rosalie. “Dad moved a finger.”

  “He did? It wasn’t just a twitch?”

  “No. It was intentional. I asked him to move a finger if he could hear me and he did. Hunter’s running some tests to be sure.”

  “I should come down.”

  “Hunter said we can’t be with him while the tests are being done. He promised to call us when he knows more.”

  After I spoke to Rosalie I sat in the truck debating what to do. I wanted to be close by if Dad did wake up, but remaining at the hospital while Hunter performed his tests seemed like a waste of precious time. I considered heading back to the resort when Roy called.

  “Hey, Roy, what’s up?”

  “I hate to bother you so early in the morning, but I have a few updates.”

  “I want to be bothered. What do you have?”

  On his end, I could hear Roy shuffling around. He might have been changing his location or perhaps reaching for notes or paperwork. “After we spoke yesterday I started looking into the whereabouts of the five suspects we identified for the night Judge Harper’s brake lines were cut.”

  “And did they have alibis?”

  “I’ve only managed to track down three of the five so far, and all three have alibis I’ve been able to verify.” Roy cleared his throat. “The car was tampered with while he was parked at the community center for the town council meeting. We know this because Judge Harper was able to drive to the meeting without incident. We also suspect he arrived at the meeting at around five thirty. Two different people have confirmed that he always arrived a half hour early to set up before the six o’clock meeting. The meeting was over at nine thirty and the judge left with your father by ten.”

  Okay. So far I was following. “So the lines were cut between five thirty and ten.”

  Roy responded, “We believe whoever cut the line did so closer to ten, probably after it got dark at around nine, but we’re using the five thirty to ten window for the time being.”

  “Okay, so who can we eliminate?”

  “Connie Blake was brought in for questioning. She seemed nervous, a lot more nervous than would be expected if she were truly innocent. For a minute I thought we had our killer. It turned out, however, that she was working that night.”

  I thought for a moment. “I remembered from the file that she works for the electric company. Wouldn’t she be off at that time of night?”

  “She got a second job working at the café on Fourth Street and didn’t get off until eleven. She arrived there at five and her coworkers have verified she never left, so I’m fairly certain she isn’t the person we’re looking for. I do think she might be behind the bank robberies, though, as Judge Harper suspected.”

  I crossed the room and sat down on the chair beside the now dormant fireplace. “Why do you say that?”

  “For one thing, she seemed super nervous when she was first brought in, but when I told her we were talking to people regarding Judge Harper’s car accident, she relaxed visibly.”

  I supposed that did make it seem like she might have something to hide. “So she’s probably guilty of something, just not tampering with Judge Harper’s car. I don’t know her well, but I do know who she is. She doesn’t
seem the type to rob a bank.”

  “Actually, she does.” Roy paused for a moment, then said something to someone before continuing. “Ms. Blake was accused of robbing three banks around the lake five years ago. She was acquitted by a jury, partially, I believe, because the prosecution failed to provide any physical evidence of her guilt and partially because Ms. Blake was a sympathetic character.”

  “Sympathetic how?”

  “Shortly before the first robbery her six-year-old son was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer, and her medical insurance wouldn’t cover treatment that was considered experimental at the time. After reading trial transcripts, it seems to me some of the jury believed she was guilty, but, given the reason she seemed to need the money, were sympathetic to her circumstances. Additionally, the bank robber back then, like the one now, took only small amounts of cash from each bank and never showed a gun or was violent in any way.”

  “So she robbed the banks to pay her medical bills.”

  “If she’s guilty—and that has never been proven, nor has she admitted as much—then yes, that’s what it looks like she did. I did some digging and found out that the boy responded to treatment and is doing well to this day.”

  I couldn’t condone Connie Blake robbing banks as a source of income, but in her circumstances, I might have done the same thing. The more I thought about it, the more certain I was that if Ashley or Gracie needed medical treatment I couldn’t afford, I would do anything to get them the help they needed. “If Connie was guilty of robbing the banks back then, why would she start doing it again five years later?”

  “Her daughter, who’s ten, has diabetes. She needs a kidney transplant and is on the list for a donor. I spoke to some of Ms. Blake’s friends who informed me the girl isn’t doing well. Ms. Blake is afraid she’ll die before her number comes up, so she’s looking into private options, all of which are very expensive. It seems to me she got tired of waiting and took matters into her own hands.”

  I frowned. “What are you going to do? You’re not going to arrest her?”

  “I can’t arrest her; all I have at this point is a theory and absolutely no proof. I do intend to go back to look at the physical evidence we’ve gathered from the more current bank robberies to see if I can find my proof.”

  “Roy, she needed the money for her children. Who can blame her?”

  “Personally, I wouldn’t blame her a bit if she turned out to be guilty, but finding the guilty party after a crime has been committed is my job, regardless of the reason behind it.”

  I felt terrible for the woman and secretly hoped Roy wouldn’t find what he was looking for. “So we can eliminate Connie Blake as a suspect in Judge Harper’s death. You said you had three people to eliminate. Who else?”

  “Fred Deerborn. It turns out he was at the town council meeting the night the car was tampered with. Initially I considered that he could have snuck out, cut the brake lines, and snuck back in, but the meeting’s recorded and Fred Deerborn is visible in the background the whole time. He never left his seat and walked out with a group shortly after it was over.”

  “And the third person you said could be eliminated?”

  “Brad Turnbull is in the county lockup, which we already knew, and couldn’t have done it, and based on Judge Harper’s file it appears he believed it was the mother and not the boyfriend doling out the abuse. To my mind that gave her motive to want the judge out of the way, but I checked and she was locked up in the drunk tank the evening of the council meeting. She couldn’t have killed him, though she might still be the one abusing her son, so I turned the judge’s notes over to the prosecutor in the case. He seems to think Harper might have been on to something.”

  This was a small thing, but it made me feel good that Judge Harper was continuing to help people even after his death.

  “Of the initial five, we still have Striker Bristow, who wants to build a strip mall, and someone associated with Steven Reinhold, who’s in prison, though Judge Harper believed he might be innocent of killing his wife.”

  “Correct.”

  “Did Bristow not have an alibi or did you not speak to him?”

  “The latter,” Roy confirmed. “I’ve left several messages for him, but all I’m getting is the runaround from his assistant. I’ll keep trying. And Clarissa Halloran, the woman who approached Judge Harper regarding Steve Reinhold’s innocence, isn’t answering her phone. I’ll keep trying to track her down, and I’ve requested the sheriff’s file on the death of Mrs. Reinhold. It might be beneficial for me to familiarize myself with the initial murder investigation as well as the trial file and Harper’s notes.”

  “Sounds like you’re doing what you can at this point. Maybe Kyle will be able to help you with the research when he’s back.”

  “There are a lot of notes to weed through and Kyle’s help will be appreciated, but Kate is wondering why I’ve decided to investigate these particular people. She isn’t making an issue of it yet, but at some point I’m going to have to tell her the truth about the files we found and the fact I’m working with you.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “Is Kate working the case as well?”

  “She is. So far she’s limited her investigation to interviews with the people who attended the town council meeting. They were coming and going all night, and she believes, probably rightfully, that someone must have seen something.”

  “She has a point. We have the video of the meeting, so we can fairly accurately determine who was there. It makes sense that someone either came or left during the time the car was being tampered with.”

  “Yes, she does, and she’s busy following the idea to its inevitable conclusion, so unless she comes up with something significant I’ll just leave her to it. Are we still on for dinner tonight? I’m anxious for you all to meet one another. Bringing Kate into the loop will make my life a lot easier.”

  I glanced out the window and considered our options. “Why don’t you plan to bring her out to the resort? The place is going to be packed, but I’ll have some takeout delivered to the house.”

  “Sounds good. We’ll talk later to settle on a time.”

  Chapter 8

  After I hung up with Roy, I decided to head over to the Beef and Brew and speak to Hank Hammond. Not only did Hank own the popular lakeside steakhouse, he was also a member of the town council. I figured he might have another take on what, if anything, might have been going on that could have led to Judge Harper’s death.

  We really only had two suspects: Striker Bristow and Jennifer Reinhold’s killer, assuming that wasn’t Steven Reinhold. In my mind Jennifer Reinhold’s killer was a longshot. Not that I was going to remove them from the suspect list, but it had been eight years and Steven Reinhold’s conviction hadn’t been overturned. The only conclusion I could come to was that the man had been guilty of the crime he was currently in prison for committing.

  As for Striker Bristow, he seemed to make as good a suspect as any, but I felt like he was far from a shoo-in, and at this point in the game we really should open the suspect pool up a bit.

  The Beef and Brew didn’t open until four, but I knew Hank well enough to know he’d be in the kitchen overseeing the preparation of the soups and desserts that would be served throughout the day. Hank was born and raised on a ranch in East Texas, though he had lived in Serenity for quite some time.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Hank greeted me with a smile on his sharply chiseled face. “I heard you were back.”

  “I got home on Thursday. I guess you heard about my dad.”

  Hank lowered his eyes as he stirred something in a pot that smelled like his famous beer-based chili. “I did. How’s Mike doing?”

  “Better, I think. He may be waking up. Hunter is running some tests.”

  Hank set his spoon on a plate sitting on the stainless steel counter and turned down the heat to let whatev
er was in the pot simmer. “That’s good news indeed. I still can’t believe Harold is gone. To lose your dad as well…” Hank shook his head, then refocused his attention on me. “What can I do for you today?”

  “I’ve been doing my own investigation into the accident that killed Judge Harper and almost killed my dad, and I wanted to ask you a few questions relating to the town council if you have a minute.”

  “If you don’t mind asking your questions while I fill these eclairs, ask away.”

  I settled onto a barstool while Hank began gathering the ingredients he would need for the creamy filling.

  “I’m not sure if you heard that Judge Harper’s brakes were tampered with.”

  Hank looked surprised. “No, I hadn’t heard. Who would do such a thing?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I know you were at the town council meeting on the night of the accident. I was wondering if anything stood out to you as a possible motive.”

  Hank paused and looked directly at me. “You think someone who attended the meeting tampered with the car?”

  “I think it’s a possibility. I know the brakes were tampered with during the meeting.”

  Hank gathered a couple of items from the walk-in refrigerator and set them on the counter. He appeared to be considering my question as he measured and then dumped the first two ingredients into a large mixing bowl. “There’s always a certain amount of bickering that takes place at each meeting,” Hank began. “Most of it is just that, bickering. But there have been a few hot topic items as of late. Two come to mind.”

  I got out my small notebook and a pen, prepared to write down whatever it was that Hank planned to share.

  “There’s a man named Striker Bristow who wants to build a strip mall.”

  “His name has come up several times,” I confirmed.

  “He is a high achiever who isn’t used to taking no for an answer. I saw him chatting with Judge Harper during the break we took halfway through the meeting.”

  “Do you know what they were chatting about?”