A Midnight Clear Page 15

  “If you need the hours you can update the client database and clean up a little,” I told her.

  “Nah, I’m happy to get home early today.” She grinned. “Hunter and I are going to make popcorn balls and wrap gifts.”

  We locked up, leaving J.T. a note and headed out. I was just starting my car when my phone rang. I wasn’t sure whether I was excited or not that Justine was getting back to me so quickly. Part of me really wanted the evening off, but the other part really wanted to dig back into this case.

  But it wasn’t Justine on the phone, it was Ruby.

  Chapter 15

  “I know it’s last minute and two days before Christmas, but do you think you could come over and help me go through my father’s condo?”

  “Of course I can.” I just needed to text Judge Beck and ask him to let Taco out and feed him when he got home. I really didn’t have anything to do and had planned on spending the evening knitting and cuddling with my cat.

  “Thank you so much. I just want to sort through everything and grab anything important or sentimental before I fly out. The police said I can go in now.”

  “The police searched your father’s home?” I wondered if that was part of the murder investigation.

  “Well, they had to after the break-in. I’m just glad they were quick because I want to make sure I grab photos and other things.”

  “Break-in?” I was horrified. As if the woman hadn’t already been through enough. First her father is murdered, and now his condo is robbed. And it didn’t escape my notice that the two crimes might be connected.

  “I went in this morning to get a few things and called the police right away when I saw. I also called that detective that’s working on Dad’s murder. She came right out.”

  Ah yes, Bettie Page. “Do they know when the robbery occurred?”

  “His neighbors are out of town. The Eylers snowbird it every year at their place in Florida, and Pete left last Friday to stay with his kids for a few weeks. It could have been any time from Saturday night until last night.” Ruby made a frustrated noise. “I wish I’d gone over Sunday. They took his television, computers, hard drives, and USB sticks. The place is a mess.”

  I knew there were horrible people who watched the obituaries and took advantage of empty homes to rob those who had died, but in spite of the theft of the television, I was sure whoever robbed Judge Reynolds’ home was making sure whatever was on those computers, hard drives, and USB sticks didn’t come to light. Someone had murdered the man, and that same someone was trying to get rid of the evidence.

  Sadly, they probably had gotten rid of the evidence.

  “Should I meet you at your father’s house or yours?” I asked Ruby.

  She gave me the address for her father’s place, and I told her I’d meet her there. As I drove, I couldn’t help but feel frustrated at how this case had gone so far. Hopefully the police had more than I did and were close to finding the murderer, because all I had was a lot of circumstantial stuff and no real suspect.

  Rhett Reynolds’ condo was a mess. Ruby was already inside with half a dozen boxes and lots of industrial-strength garbage bags. Sadly, there appeared to be more going into the garbage bags than in the boxes.

  Whoever had done this, they’d been thorough. Sofas and chairs were slashed and turned over. The drawers had been removed from dressers, the entertainment center, and the desk, the contents dumped out. Drapes and blinds were yanked down and broken. The contents of every kitchen cabinet had been scattered all over the floor, a few of the doors broken off the hinges. I didn’t go into the bedroom, but I was pretty sure it had been subjected to the same treatment.

  “Oh Ruby, I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed as I surveyed the damage.

  “It’s okay. Really. Insurance will pay for any damage, and I was going to have to get rid of most of this stuff anyway.”

  “What can I do?” I picked up an empty garbage bag and began to look around.

  “I’m going to save most of the trash-type clean-up for when I get back.” Ruby nudged a box over my way. “Only put anything that’s clearly broken in the trash bag, and ask if you think something broken might have sentimental value. If you find pictures or anything that looks like it might be valuable, put it in the box.”

  I got to work, taking pictures out of their smashed frames, and carefully placing them in a box. We talked as we worked, Ruby telling me about her childhood and reminiscing as various knickknacks sparked her memory. We moved into the kitchen, and then into the bedroom as night fell. My stomach was protesting the lack of dinner, but I wasn’t about to call a break when I could see how important it was for Ruby to at least sort through the majority of the belongings in this one trip.

  When she finally called it quits we had a dozen garbage bags that went into the chute at the end of the hallway, and six rather heavy boxes. It took us three trips to get them all downstairs and into both her tiny car and my old sedan. I followed Ruby to her house, and grabbed a box, heading to her door where I heard Dolly barking and scratching.

  “I really appreciate this,” Ruby said as she fumbled for her keys. “I’m flying out to Seattle to see my mom tomorrow and didn’t want to leave Dad’s place in that state.”

  “You’re going to your mom’s?” I shifted the weight of my box. “I was going to invite you to join us for Christmas.”

  “Thank you for that, but I think it’s time I started making more of an effort to spend time with Mom. I was always closer to Dad. My mother and I didn’t get along very well in my teen or college years, and I kind of let some emotional distance build between us. Dad’s death made me realize that we never know how much time we have—or how much our loved ones have. If something happened to Mom, I’d always regret not getting to know her better now that I’m an adult.”

  Ruby finally got the door open and I went in behind her, trying not to trip over an enthusiastic Dolly.

  “My grandfather used to always say that time was the most precious gift we have.” I sat my box down near Ruby’s little Christmas tree and turned to go get another box when I noticed something. It was a gift wrapped in blue and silver paper, addressed to Ruby.

  “That’s from Dad.” Tears choked her voice. “He gave it to me last week before the party, and I haven’t had the courage to open it yet. I’m afraid I’d fall apart into a mess. The last gift he ever gave me.”

  “Oh, honey.” I gave her shoulders a quick hug. “Do you want to open it tonight with me here? Before you fly out? Or do you want to just pack it away and save it for when you feel ready?”

  She picked up the box, turning it over in her hands. “I think I would like to open it now. Maybe it’s something I can take on the flight.”

  I sat on the floor next to her as she ripped the paper off and opened the box. Inside was a soft, organic cotton hoodie, a YETI mug, and a dark blue, weighted blanket. There was no special card, no note inside to indicate that Rhett Reynolds might have thought this would be his last Christmas gift to his daughter.

  “This is wonderful,” she whispered. “Dad always took note of when I said I liked something. These are all the things I wanted, but just couldn’t justify spending the money on.”

  “You can take the mug with you to visit your mother,” I told her. “And maybe wear the hoodie. That way it will feel like your dad is close to you.”

  “That’s a great idea, Kay.” Ruby stood and took her coat off, putting the hoodie on over her shirt. “It’s so soft and warm.”

  I stood up as well, waited for Ruby to put her coat back on, then we made two more trips to our cars to bring in the rest of the boxes.

  “Can I get you something to eat or drink?” Ruby asked once we’d stacked the last of the boxes by her tree.

  “It’s late. I should be getting back home,” I said, glancing at my watch.

  “Well, at least let me get you some coffee or hot tea for the road.”

  It was a good idea. I was actually a little tired from my late nights ear
lier this week, and some caffeine would do me good. “Coffee would be lovely, thanks.”

  I hung my coat on the rack next to Ruby’s, then went into the kitchen and talked about my Christmas plans as she brewed the coffee. When it was done, she pulled a go-cup out of a cabinet and filled it for me.

  She handed me the cup. “Don’t worry about getting this back to me. I’ve got dozens of them from conventions and seminars. The only one that matters to me is the YETI one Dad gave me.”

  I thanked her again and she accompanied me to the door, holding the coffee as I put my coat back on.

  “Call me when you get back,” I told her, taking the coffee back. “We’ll get together for lunch and you can tell me about Seattle. I’d be happy to help you do the rest of the clean-up on your father’s place, too.”

  “That would be wonderful.” She stuck her hands in the pockets of the hoodie, and an odd expression came over her face. With a slight frown, she pulled something out of the right pocket.

  It was a USB stick.

  I sucked in a breath, and the pair of us stared at it in wonder.

  “Oh, Dad.”

  “Should we take a look?” I asked her.

  She nodded, and once again I took off my coat. As Ruby opened up her laptop and booted it up, I sipped my coffee and wondered what the contents of the little stick would reveal.

  It was full of files with names like Cresswell payout 05. There were spreadsheets full of accounting data, and reports showing payouts. It was more than either of us could comprehend at a glance. Ruby copied the contents over to her hard drive, then opened one last document that had her name on it.

  My little Gem. I’m so sorry that you’re reading this because that means I’m gone. I’m so proud of you. You’re my heart and I love you.

  Please copy these files and keep the records in a safe place, then turn this over to the police. They’ll know what to do with it. And if they decide they want to cover it up because they’re too afraid to slay the dragon, then it will be up to you to make things right. Go to the press, but first talk to Helen Dixon. She knows everything.

  Love always, Dad

  Ruby swallowed a few times and blinked back tears. Then she pulled the USB stick out of her computer and handed it to me. “Can you give this to the detective for me, Kay? I know it sounds horrible, but I don’t want to delay my flight, and this needs to go to her first thing in the morning.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” I vowed. “You go have a wonderful holiday reconnecting with your mother. When you get back, we’ll talk.”

  She nodded then reached over and gave me a hug. “Thank you. And Merry Christmas, Kay.”

  “Merry Christmas to you too.”

  I left Ruby wearing her new hoodie, Dolly sitting by her feet as she watched me start my car and pull out of the driveway. It was a quiet, contemplative drive home as I thought about loss, love, gifts, and family.

  I thought about one more thing as well. First thing in the morning, as soon as I’d delivered this USB stick to the police, I was going to go have a chat with Helen Dixon.

  Chapter 16

  It was Christmas Eve Day and we had so little in the way of work that J.T. told Molly and I to go ahead and take off once we were done. I was feeling bad about working this case and leaving Molly with all the skip traces, so I pitched in and we managed to get finished around eleven. I was just about to leave the office when Justine called.

  “Got it!” she announced.

  “So do I, but you first.”

  “The executive washroom was converted twenty or twenty-one years ago according to my people in the know. And Stuart Dixon had that office at the time. I’m positive of that because everyone I spoke to remembered him making a huge stink about the firm taking one of his perks from him. Most of the former employees I spoke with didn’t know about the door being left on and just covered up, but two did. Those two told me Stuart complained about that as well, saying Sullivan was a cheap you-know-what.”

  He’d been the lead on the Cresswell case. What if all that accounting data Rhett Reynolds had accumulated showed he was guilty of fraud or embezzlement?

  “Would Dixon’s old files still be in that office?” Because if they were, that would definitely be a reason for Reynolds to be up on the second floor.

  “Maybe. Those cabinets weigh a ton. There’s an off-site company that securely stores the boxes of files, but there might be personal notes and stuff in the filing cabinet.”

  Would Dixon have been careless enough to leave incriminating evidence behind in his old office file cabinet? I just couldn’t see that. And I definitely couldn’t see Rhett Reynolds sneaking into an office when the actual files for the case were in a dozen dusty boxes off site somewhere.

  “But wait, there’s more,” Justine quipped. “Evidently it’s well known that the office keys are never changed. As in, never. So the key Stuart Dixon used to get into his office is the same one Trent Elliot uses now. And the same one probably three other people who had that office used. If he killed Reynolds, and changed clothes in Trent’s office, he could have easily gotten the borrowed pants cleaned, come back and switched them for the bloody ones. Except Dixon isn’t at all the same size as Trent Elliott. There’s no way that man could squeeze into Trent’s pants and walk around without the seams splitting.”

  She did have a point. “Besides, if Dixon killed Reynolds, why not kill his wife? I’m assuming she knew the dirt on him and told Reynolds or vice-versa. That might be why she got a big divorce settlement out of him. But why kill one person and trust the other to keep your secret?”

  “So probably not Dixon, but maybe a friend of his? Maybe someone he paid to make sure Reynolds didn’t get whatever it was he was looking for?”

  I frowned. “No. I don’t think this was planned at all. It was a hurried, panicked murder. And Dixon wouldn’t have been running around the party at midnight looking to bribe a state senator, judge, or lawyer to immediately run upstairs and off someone.”

  Justine sighed. “Okay. I’m stumped. What’s your news?”

  I told her about Rhett Reynolds’ condo being burglarized, and what Ruby found in her Christmas present.

  “Oooo, that’s so exciting! Maybe it was Stuart Dixon who did it.”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I want to go talk to Helen Dixon right after I swing by the police station. You wouldn’t happen to have her phone number and address, would you?”

  “I sure would!” Justine rattled off the information. “If she is trying to give you the slip, you call me. She’ll listen to me. It’s in her best interests to go talk to the police, especially when they figure out exactly what’s on that USB stick.”

  I hung up with a promise to give Justine a call later and let her know what happened, then I headed to the capital.

  By the time I reached the police station and parked, it was just after noon. I had no idea if police detectives kept conventional lunch schedules or not. I didn’t want to wait around for an hour on Christmas Eve for her to finish her burger and fries, and I really didn’t want to give this evidence to anyone aside from the detective working the case. Worried that a few seconds might mean the difference between the detective being at lunch or not, I ran from the parking lot, once again noting that while daily yoga did wonders for my flexibility it did nothing for my cardio fitness.

  I made it up to the front desk, still out of breath, and asked for Detective Bettie Page.

  “Who?” The young man at the desk scanned a list and slowly shook his head. We don’t have any Detective Page here, ma’am.”

  What the heck was her name? I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten the detective’s name, and I couldn’t believe this man was so young he didn’t know who Bettie Page was.

  “I mean Detective…Burger? No. Burlesque? No. Burgess. That’s it—Detective Burgess.”

  The young man shot me a puzzled glance, then looked down again at the directory. “Just one moment, ma’am.”

  He dialed th
e number, spoke for a few moments, then winced and looked up at me. “May I ask who is calling?”

  Good grief, this poor guy must have just started today. “Kay Carrera. I’m here about the Reynolds case. Please tell her I have some information for her.”

  He relayed the information, then hung up. “Someone will be right out, ma’am.”

  I didn’t have to wait for long. Detective Burgess came up herself to retrieve me, leading me back to what looked to be the same interview room I’d been in last time—although I’m sure they all looked pretty much the same.

  “So what do you have for me, Mrs. Carrera?” she asked once we were seated.

  I pulled out the USB drive and told her the story. A small smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. I got the feeling this woman didn’t smile very often, and that this was as close to euphoria as she’d most likely ever been in her life.

  “And why didn’t Miss Reynolds bring this in? Or call us?”

  “Because she’d just spent an emotional day going through her father’s condo that had been robbed and vandalized, then an emotional evening opening the very last Christmas present he’d ever give her. It was late. She had an early flight to Seattle to spend the holiday with her mother. I think the woman has been through enough, so I offered to bring this in. I’m sure you can reach her on her cell phone, but the woman has been through a lot this week. I’d hope that you’d only contact her if it was urgent and allow her some time to visit with family and grieve.”

  Detective Burgess blinked at my tone, which I’ll admit was a bit combative. I don’t know what had gotten into me lately, but I was even more of a protective hen than usual.

  “Thank you.” She held up the USB stick. “I’ll log this into evidence and get our financial folks on it right away. Hopefully there will be something in all these numbers that leads us to the murderer.”

  If the numbers didn’t then the letter to Ruby telling her to talk to Helen Dixon definitely would. It was very bad of me not to tell the detective up front about that, but I wanted to talk to Helen first. I wanted her to be the one offering up what she knew rather than having suspicious police descending on her the day after Christmas.