Chapter 8 Scoops and Snoops

Gil heard the faint sound of footsteps at his door, the kind when someone is trying to creep up on a person. He forced his eyes open and blinked grittily. The backs of his eyelids felt like sandpaper.

He found Luke Hawling standing there, looking concerned and apologetic. “Sorry, sir.” He raised and lowered his hands as he stepped farther into the room. “They said you were asleep, so I was trying not to make too much noise.” He was in the standard Heart Lake PD uniform — a white shirt, jeans, boots, and a Stetson. His badge glinted against his chest.

Gil grunted. “I sleep with one eye open.” He liked the fact that Luke no longer averted his face in an attempt to hide the burn scars on one side of it. Not with his boss, at any rate. Heart Lake’s acting sheriff had come a long way since the day he’d walked into the station and applied for a job. At the time, he’d carried a mile-high chip on his shoulder. Beneath Gil’s coaching, though, he’d quickly developed into a solid leader, more than capable of wielding the reins Gil would soon be transferring to him. He was confident that Luke was ready to become the next duly elected sheriff. He’d earned it, and he was going to fill the office with both honor and integrity. Gil couldn’t be leaving the department in better hands.

“In that case, you may have thought the medical center experienced an earthquake about an hour and a half ago.” Luke removed his hat and held it between his hands.

Unfortunately, Gil had been fibbing about keeping one eye open last night. Whatever the nurse had put in his I.V. had completely knocked him out. It was probably a good thing. He felt like he’d been run over by a train. Every breath still hurt, but at least he was well rested and in better shape to shoulder the pain.

“I may have had that one eye half shut,” he admitted grudgingly.

Luke nodded, looking grave. “There was an explosion in Bliss’s office downstairs and a second one in the morgue. Foul play suspected and confirmed.”

Gil’s head lolled dizzily as his thoughts zoomed in on one detail. “Bliss?” he croaked.

Luke moved his way, tossing his hat on the foot of the bed. “Safe in her hospital room on the third floor, sir.”

Gil waved away his assistance. “If she’s good, I’m good.”

Luke lifted the clear plastic pitcher of ice water on the roller cart next to the bed and topped off Gil’s glass.

“Thanks.” Gil accepted it gratefully and took a long drag of liquid. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough drinking water in the medical center to wash away his growing concerns for Bliss’s safety.

Luke retrieved his Stetson and moved back to the foot of the bed.

“Take a load off. Please.” Gil waved at the vinyl chair Dave had reluctantly vacated the night before. He’d stayed well past visiting hours, refusing to leave until they kicked him out.

Luke shifted restlessly from one boot to the other. “I can’t, sir. With all due respect, I’m trying to fill some pretty big shoes right now.”

Gil felt a surge of pride big enough to expand his ribcage. Luke’s answer was all the more proof he’d chosen the right replacement for his office. He was campaigning hard and praying even harder on Luke’s behalf in the hopes that the voters would support his decision come September.

“Give me the scoop, son, and I’ll tell you what I know in return.” Gil wished he could do more, but sharing information was probably the only meaningful way he could assist in the case right now.

Luke nodded. “Preliminary examination of both crime scenes indicates that two corpses were rigged as bombs. They were set off remotely and simultaneously, one in each room. The steel drawers in the morgue are fireproof, so it wasn’t too hard to determine there were no other missing bodies.”

“For the safety of everyone involved, this is strictly off the record, you hear?” Gil lowered his voice and leaned closer to his understudy.

“Just a sec.” Luke walked back a few steps to shut the door to the room. “Alright. Fire away, sir.”

Gil appreciated having the door shut. “Due to the security risks involving Dr. Hawling’s efforts to establish DNA markers for a Hildebrand-Hawling heir, she had two additional corpses delivered to the morgue. Both were decimated like the ones she’s been extracting samples from.” He still didn’t know who she’d worked with to coordinate the shipment of the extra bodies, and she still wasn’t telling him. Yet.

Luke’s gaze widened in amazement. “You suspect someone is trying to destroy the DNA markers, uh?” He nodded slowly. “I reckon that would explain our perp’s motive. Partly. It still doesn’t explain what they hope to gain by keeping the Hildebrand-Hawling fortune in an unclaimed status.”

“Those are my suspicions, yes.” Gil felt very strongly about his theory. Though he couldn’t yet answer the other question Luke had raised, he was confident they were on the right track. “If the Hildebrand-Hawling remains in question were destroyed at the same time the DNA markers were destroyed, it would be pointless to continue the blood tests. There’d be no way to recreate the DNA markers.” However, Bliss had again been one step ahead of the person behind both the theft of the wrong bodies and the subsequent bombs he’d turned them into.

Luke was watching his expression closely. “Are the DNA markers safe?”

Gil spread his hands. “Is anything saved to the Internet ever truly lost?”

Luke raised his eyebrows. “Good point, sir.”

“After Bliss successfully established the markers,” Gil continued, “she had the Hildebrand-Hawling bodies relocated to a safer place. Not on the Internet, of course.” It was a lame attempt at a joke. Neither of them laughed.

“Not the morgue?”

“Not the morgue.”

Luke ducked his head over his Stetson. “Now for the hard part of our interview, sir.”

Gil knew what was coming. “I have a theory about that, too.” It was one that had him scared out of his skin.

Luke slowly raised his head to meet Gil’s gaze. “Why are they after Dr. Hawling, sir? Pure vengeance?”

“I’m asking myself the same question, Luke, but my gut says it’s more.” There was one very big impediment to obtaining the information he needed to back up his theory. “Due to HIPAA regulations, it might be difficult to verify what I’m about to tell you with indisputable facts, but…”

Luke’s expression grew resigned. “You’re not sure if Dr. Hawling has taken the blood test yet, are you?”

“Bingo.” Gil found it fascinating that Luke didn’t look too surprised. Great minds think alike.

“I’ve been wondering, too.” Luke gave a low whistle. “And until she takes the test, we can’t rule out that Dr. Hawling is the long awaited Hildebrand-Hawling heiress.”

“Exactly.” Gil’s chest hurt just thinking about it.

“Pardon me, sir, but…” Luke looked embarrassed, “Dave Phillips happened to mention you and Dr. Hawling are, um…” He stopped and cleared his throat.

“Dating?” Gil supplied.

“Yes. That, sir.” A wave of red crept up the acting sheriff’s neck.

“We are, but I haven’t asked her about the blood test, and I don’t intend to.” He’d been thinking about it a lot lately, but he also respected her privacy. He was honestly a little surprised she hadn’t volunteered the information already. In light of their newest and latest level of intimacy, it just seemed like something that would’ve come up in one of their conversations before now. Not that they spent much time talking when they were together. They were too busy necking like teenagers.

He didn’t realize he was smiling until Luke snorted and turned away from him. “Why do I suddenly feel the need to go wash out my brain with soap?”

“Very funny, police sergeant.” It was all Gil could do to hold in a bark of laughter.

“Acting sheriff, sir.” Luke swiveled back in his direction, smirking.

“I’ve created a monster,” Gil pretended to glower at him.

Luke did his best Frankenstein impersonation as he made his way toward the door. He returned his Stetson to his head as he reached for the handle. “Whelp. I’m off to catch the real monster, sir.”

Gil pointed his thumb and forefinger at him like a gun. “Keep me posted.”

“You know I will.” Luke inclined his head respectfully before exiting the room.

Ten days later

Summer Midraven turned the envelope over to examine the back of it, not that she was truly expecting to find anything on the other side. She didn’t.

Glancing around the lobby, she saw only one other person checking their post office box. It was an elderly woman with a service dog on a leash. She grumbled something to her dog as she fumbled with her key, eventually losing her grip on it. It clattered to the floor.

The dog whined and sniffed at it as his owner glanced around helplessly.

“Here. Let me.” Summer sprang forward to pick the key up off the floor. She received a doggy kissy on the hand for her efforts. Though she smiled at the dog, she made no attempt to pet him. Due to her son-in-law’s job running the all-new K-9 search and rescue unit on the rez, she’d learned that service dogs weren’t pets. This one seemed awfully friendly, though.

She stood and held out the key to the dog’s owner. The way the woman squinted at it made Summer realize that she was at least partially blind. It was no wonder she was having trouble opening her box. Hoping her words would give no offense, she inquired gently, “Would you like me to open your post office box for you, ma’am?”

“Yes, I would! It’s Box 50234, hon.” The woman spoke a few decibels louder than normal, indicating she was hard of hearing, too. Summer opened her post office box. It contained a single envelope. Though she didn’t mean to snoop, she couldn’t help noticing the person it was addressed to. Mona Hildebrand.

It wasn’t a common last name. Her heartbeat stuttered with unease. Was it simply a coincidence, or was the elderly woman connected somehow to the ongoing search for the Hildebrand-Hawling heir? Summer carefully shut and locked her post office box, making a mental note to ask Caleb about her.

She forced a smile as she handed over the envelope. “Do you need any assistance getting back to your vehicle, ma’am?”

“No, thanks. My brother is waiting for me outside, and I’ve got this silly dog to lead the way. If only he could be trained to pick up all the stuff I drop these days. Arthritis!” She shook her head ruefully as she shuffled toward the front door with the envelope gripped tightly enough to crumple it. “The curse of old age.”

Summer hurried ahead of her to open it for her and received another doggy kiss. She glanced across the parking lot and was surprised to see it was empty except for her rental car. As she parted her lips to inquire about the woman’s ride, a cargo-sized van nosed into the lot. The maroon color it was painted looked a little odd. Definitely not a standard shade. Because of all the hype on the news about an ongoing search for a black van with no side or rear windows, it was impossible not to notice that it didn’t have any side or rear windows, either. Then again, lots of commercial vehicles didn’t.

The driver braked the van at such an angle that Summer was unable to see inside the cab as the old woman climbed in after her dog. From her vantage point, she was also unable to get a good look at the license plate.

I’m being paranoid. Summer gave herself a mental shake and moved back inside the building. Only after the door swung shut behind her did the van take off. He streaked in a diagonal line across the parking lot to get back on the road, ignoring the painted lines of the other parking spots. What an idiot!

She returned to the corner of the post office lobby to open the piece of mail that had her so puzzled. It was made out to Summer and Takoda Midraven, her late husband. Though she’d continued to receive junk mail in his name for a while afterward, she couldn’t remember the last time it had happened. More than twenty years ago, that was for sure.

Though it was made out to her most recent address in New York, the sender was a local bank, Lakeside National. According to the various stamped messages on the front, the envelope had been sent to her last address, then forwarded to her new post office box in Heart Lake. It had traveled nearly four thousand miles to arrive a few blocks down the street from where it had originated.

It was odd to be receiving anything from Lakeside National since Summer had yet to open a local bank account. It was one of a few dozen items still on her moving to-do list. Maybe it was nothing more than an advertisement.

Knowing the envelope wasn’t going to open itself, she slid a fingernail beneath the flap. Pulling out the single sheet of paper inside, she unfolded it and found herself staring at a bill for a safe deposit box. A brief memo had been added to the notice.

Next payment due July 30. Monthly and annual payment options available.

Apparently, her husband had opened a safe deposit box in Heart Lake many years ago, which he’d subsequently paid for the next twenty-something years. It was almost too much to process. She drew a deep breath and did the first thing that came to mind. She called Caleb.

“Hey, babe.” His voice carried across the line, low and husky with affection.

“Hey, Caleb.” She felt awkward asking for such a strange favor, but she took the plunge, anyway. “Any chance you can meet me at Lakeside National in the next few minutes?”

“Yep, but it’s gonna cost you,” he teased.

She smiled. “How about I burn you another casserole for dinner tonight?”

“Sold. Bet you a kiss I’ll be at the bank before you.”

“You’re on!” It took her less than two minutes to drive from the post office to Lakeside National. Caleb was already parked out front, standing outside his pickup with his arms folded.

Summer stepped from her rental car, inwardly congratulating herself for tossing on a chic paisley romper with a halter neck.

Caleb caressed her with his dark gaze as she joined him beside his truck. “You gonna tell me what this is about?” He pinched her chin lightly and leaned in to deliver a lingering kiss.

She handed him the folded letter. “Call me a coward, but I don’t want to do this alone.”

He unfolded the letter and read it in silence. “I’ve got your back.” He refolded it and returned it to her. “Always.”

Before heading inside, she stepped closer to rest her head against his shoulder, needing to feel his strength for a moment.

He hooked an arm around her waist and simply held her, somehow understanding that no words were required.

She was a little surprised that no one questioned her request to have him accompany her into the vault. Small towns where everybody knew everybody was turning out to have some really nice perks.

A bank employee accompanied them to open the box for her and set it on the otherwise empty table in the middle of the room. “If you choose to renew the rental on the box, ma’am, we’ll issue you your own key.”

“Thank you.” Summer didn’t know what else to say until she laid eyes on what was inside the box. She waited until she and Caleb were alone in the room before reaching for the lid. She paused when her heart started pounding.

Pressing a hand to her heart, she rasped, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Just breathe,” Caleb instructed quietly. “There’s no need to rush.”

She nodded nervously and reached for the lid again. “I can do this,” she whispered, unable to even guess what she might find inside. “I have to do this.”

As it turned out, there were papers inside the box. Lots and lots of papers. They wavered in front of her. She had to blink a few times to clear her vision. Reaching inside the box, she removed the entire stack and fanned them out on the table. That’s when she discovered the pile contained more than loose leaf papers. It contained file folders, too.

With a blank look at Caleb, she riffled through the first few pages and grew still. “It’s a case file,” she breathed. And not just any case file. It was the last one her husband had been working on before he died. He’d apparently been searching for the heir to a very large fortune being held in a trust account at a prominent money management firm in New York — the same fortune the entire town of Heart Lake was in such a tizzy about.

It felt like more than a coincidence. Her knees grew weak at the realization that her husband had planned this before he’d died. What she didn’t yet understand was why he’d made her wait over twenty years to view the contents of the safe deposit box. Before today, she hadn’t even known he’d reserved any such box in both of their names.

“I think I need to sit down,” she murmured.

Since there were no chairs in the room, Caleb helped lower her to her knees on the floor. He squatted down in front of her. “If you want my advice, I think you should turn all this over to Sheriff Gil Remington.”

She nodded shakily. That sounded like a good idea to her.

“Or the acting sheriff.” Caleb rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “Last I heard, Gil was still in the hospital. Luke Hawling is filling his shoes right now.”

She struggled to gather her chaotic thoughts. “My husband warned me to stay away from this town. I thought it was because of the bad blood between him and his stepbrother who still lives on the rez. I never told Prim. I never dreamed it would be necessary. I mean…really, Caleb!” She gave him a beseeching look. “What are the odds that our daughter would end up in this exact town, married to your precious nephew?” Though she’d initially had her misgivings over her only child marrying a cop, she’d quickly come to adore her new son-in-law.

Caleb’s expression softened. “She followed her heritage and her heart, just like you did when you moved here to live closer to her.”

Her throat tightened with foreboding. “Takoda told me he received multiple death threats while working his final case. To find out it involved the Hildebrand-Hawling fortune…” Her breathing grew shallow.

Caleb reached for his cell phone. “With your permission, I’d like to call this in right away. Might not hurt to ask for a police escort to get this stuff to the station.”

“Yes, please.” While he dialed, she struggled to regulate her breathing.

He hit his speakerphone while it rang. They ended up getting put through to Luke Hawling. “Hey, Luke!”

Summer was surprised to hear him address the acting sheriff like an old friend.

“This is Caleb Whitaker,” he continued. “Any chance you can provide a police escort to transport something from a safe deposit box at Lakeside National straight to your office?”

“Are you in any danger?” Luke asked quickly.

“Not that I’m aware of. We’re in a locked vault.”

“We?”

“I’m with Summer Midraven. It’s a long story. Probably best if you hear it firsthand.”

“I’ll be there in five.” Luke disconnected the line.

He arrived with a briefcase handcuffed to his wrist, just like in the movies. Summer had always assumed it was just Hollywood theatrics. Apparently not.

He scowled in concern at her position on the floor.

“I’m okay.” She tried to rise, but sank weakly back to the floor. “Maybe I’ll just stay here a little longer.” She waved at the contents of the safe deposit box. “I received a notice in the mail today that payment was due on a safe deposit box. Before receiving the notice, I was unaware my late husband had rented such a box in Heart Lake, much less put it in both of our names. He was an attorney, and this was his last case file. It appears he was very much involved with the search for the Hildebrand-Hawling heir.” Over two decades ago!

“Whoa!” Luke spun toward the table. “May I?” He reached for the stack of papers and folders.

“Help yourself.” She shivered violently. “Until I opened the box, the only thing I knew about my husband’s last case was that he’d received multiple death threats while working on it. I’d like to know why, please. Afterward, you’re welcome to take the whole shebang to the station.” It felt too much like stepping on her dead husband’s ghost. She never wanted to see it again.

Over the course of the next hour, Caleb and Luke traded various papers back and forth, reading parts of them aloud to her. They eventually joined her on the floor, bringing the contents of the box with them.

The three of them soon learned that Gil Remington’s father-in-law had been working in conjunction with Takoda’s firm in New York to assist them in their search for an heir. He’d served as their local boots on the ground, so to speak. According to Takoda’s notes, he and his colleagues had become suspicious of George Brand’s motives after the shocking discovery that he’d legally changed his surname before entering law school. The name George Brand had been born with was actually George Hildebrand. Further digging on Takoda’s part had revealed that George Hildebrand was a descendant of Fargus Hildebrand, the same unscrupulous guardian who’d had Iris Hildebrand declared mentally insane over a hundred years earlier and shipped out west to an asylum. The move had stripped her of all legal rights to her family’s fortune.

What her evil uncle hadn’t counted on was the clever addendum her father had made to his last will and testament. In the event Iris failed to claim her inheritance for any reason, to include mental instability, her inheritance was to be held in a trust account for exactly one hundred years following her thirty-fifth birthday. If no viable living heir could be identified by this date, the amassed fortune would be rolled into a charity foundation in her memory. His will outlined the terms under which the foundation would be created.

Luke leaned his head back against the wall. “The deadline is in less than three months.” He sniffed. “Considering the two attempts on Dr. Hawling’s life, plus the destruction of her lab, it appears that someone is working very hard to ensure time runs out before an heir can be identified.”

“Someone?” Caleb raised his eyebrows at the acting sheriff. “Seems to me that George Brand is sitting at the very top of that potential list of someones.”

“Agreed.” Luke cast a worried look at Summer. “Ma’am, I’m not trying to shake you up any more than you already are, but it’s probably best if you’re not alone right now.”

Caleb reached for her hand. “I’ll keep her safe.” His voice was coolly determined. It was more than a maybe. It was a promise.

He stood and helped Luke gather the contents of Summer’s safe deposit box and lock them in his briefcase. After Luke departed, Caleb reached for Summer, who was still slumped on the floor.

“We can do this one of two ways.” He gently tugged her to her feet.

“Oh, really?” She slid her arms around his neck and tipped her face up to his.

“Yep. You can either let me drive you to my cabin and personally escort you to the storm shelter on the lower level...” He paused to gaze deeply into her eyes.

“Or?” She gave a sobbing chuckle. A previous visit to his storm shelter had proven it was far more than a storm shelter. It doubled as both a safe room and second living room, where he and his nephew sometimes enjoyed a football game on a big screen. The fact that he wanted to take her there meant he was very much concerned about her current safety.

“Or you can marry me first, and then let me escort you to my cabin.” He cuddled her closer. “As my bride.”

“Caleb!” She scanned his face, trying to determine if he was joking. He wasn’t. “Oh, my goodness!” Her thoughts raced. “Is it even possible to get married that fast in Texas?” Most states had a waiting period after the issuance of a marriage license, didn’t they?

“If we present a written waiver from a judge, we can, and I happen to know a judge.”

“Of course, you do.” She caught her breath as he reached up to tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Summer, darlin’, the only reason I’m not gonna get down on one knee is because you’re a little unsteady on your feet at the moment. But will you marry me and make me the happiest Comanche in the west?” He brushed his thumb across her lower lip. “Plus, it’ll save you the cost of purchasing your own place.”

She burst into happy laughter. “Caleb Whitaker,” she chided. “Saving a few bucks on real estate isn’t the least bit romantic!”

“Wanna bet?” he challenged, tracing his thumb over her lower lip again.

“No, because I’d probably lose,” she declared softly. The look in his eyes was making her swiftly revise her earlier statement. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She tangled her hand in his hair and tugged his head down for a kiss.

“I love you.” He nuzzled the edge of her mouth. “I probably don’t say that enough.”

“I love you, too.” She had no complaints about when and how often he’d said the words. The important thing was that he meant them.

Unable to wait a moment longer, she seamed her mouth to his. She’d been alone for so many years before Caleb had entered her life that she’d almost forgotten how good it felt to be adored and cherished like this. Since Caleb had never been married, he’d endured even more years of aching loneliness than she had. It made both of them extra appreciative of what they’d found in each other.

She couldn’t wait to marry him.

Her dearest friend.

Her most trusted confidante.

Her loyal protector.