“Speaking of business,” Elias said, “let’s get back to it.” He beetled his brows at Judson. “Tell me what you found in Ballinger’s house.”
“It had the feel of a planned hit,” Judson said. “I think the murder was done to silence a potential witness, someone who had discovered something the killer did not want her to know.”
“Huh.” Elias turned back to the window. “Got to admit killing an unarmed woman doesn’t sound like Barrett. But I’m telling you that geode is a damn good motive for murder.”
“I know,” Judson said. “But there are others. Gwen and I are looking into the possibility that Ballinger’s death is linked to something that happened here in Wilby a couple of years ago.”
Gwen and I are looking.
Elias studied his son intently for a few beats. What was going on here? If there was a term that could be used to describe Judson’s working style, that term was lone wolf. The trait had manifested itself early on. It had been clear from the start that of his three children Judson was the least likely to take over the family empire. Judson almost always worked alone.
Now it was Gwen and I are looking into the possibility.
It dawned on Elias that he had been so obsessed with the theory that Hank Barrett was involved in whatever was going down in Wilby that he hadn’t been paying nearly as much attention as he should have to the energy that was crackling in the air between Judson and Gwen Frazier.
He glanced toward the open door that connected the two rooms. The sense of intimacy in the space was unmistakable.
Well, well, well, so that’s how it is, he thought. Nothing like a woman to take a man’s mind off a few bad memories. But he’d never been aware of this kind of intimate heat between Judson and any of his other lady friends. Gwen was different from the other women who had come and gone in Judson’s life. It was as if she not only understood the dark side of Judson’s moody, driven nature but also was okay with it.
“Maybe I am a little too fixated on the Barretts,” he conceded. He looked at the strongbox. “We’ve got the geode. That’s the important thing.”
“It may be the most important thing to you,” Gwen said very politely. “Personally, I’ve got other priorities. I hired Judson to find out who murdered my friend, not to recover some dumb rock.”
Elias gave her what he thought of as his most winning smile, the one he used to close multimillion-dollar deals around the world. “Tell you what, ma’am, I’ll take my dumb rock and go back to Copper Beach with the cat burglar.”
“Antiquarian book dealer,” Nick said without inflection.
Elias ignored him to focus on Gwen, who did not seem overly impressed with his smile. “You and Judson can poke around here in Wilby and see what answers you turn up. How’s that?”
“That sounds like an excellent plan,” Gwen said. “When, exactly, do you intend to leave?”
Her smile was as sweet as a caramel-covered apple—the poisoned variety. Elias could tell that Judson was having trouble suppressing a laugh. It had been a while since Judson had laughed.
“We’re leaving now,” Elias said. He looked at the steel strongbox. “The sooner that stone gets into the vault at Copper Beach, the better.”
Judson straightened away from the mantel. “One more thing before you two take off.” He looked at Nick. “Sawyer, are you as good at the urban rock climbing business as Gwen says you are?”
Elias snorted. “Urban rock climbing? That’s a nice name for his line of work.”
“I’m good,” Nick said. There was no hint of false modesty in the words, just a statement of fact. He was starting to look intrigued. “Gwen and Abby tell me I’ve got a talent for it. Why?”
“I’ve got a job for you,” Judson said. “It involves some computer work, some travel and probably a little climbing and a few locks.”
“That pretty much describes my skill set,” Nick said.
Gwen’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “That’s a brilliant idea, Judson.”
Elias scowled, aware that he was losing the thread of the conversation. “What’s this so-called brilliant idea?”
Judson looked at him. “Gwen and I need information concerning the circumstances surrounding the deaths of half a dozen people who died in various towns in the past eighteen months. We need to know how they’re connected. That kind of research takes time, and we don’t have a lot to spare. We can use some assistance.”
“What’s important about the dead people?” Nick asked.
“If we’re right, they were all murdered by paranormal means,” Gwen said. “We want to find out if there is a pattern, something that would make it clear that they were all killed by the same person.”
Nick was definitely intrigued now. “You think there might be a connection between the dead people and what happened here in Wilby?”
“What we think,” Gwen said deliberately, “is that when Zander Taylor went over the falls, he did not take the camera with him. In the past year and a half, at least six more people have died in a way that is strikingly similar to the way in which Taylor’s victims were murdered.”
“What do you want me to do?” Nick said.
“At the moment, all we have are names of six people who are dead,” Judson said. “I want you to start looking into the deaths. Check out the scenes; talk to neighbors; go online. Whatever it takes. Like Gwen said, we’re looking for a pattern.”
“Give me what you’ve got,” Nick said. “I’ll see what I can do.” He looked around. “Are there any more sandwiches?”
Twenty-three
Elias stood with Judson near the front of the SUV. The rear cargo door of the vehicle was open. Nick and Gwen were back there, talking quietly, as the cat burglar secured the steel box containing the geode.
Elias cleared his throat and turned to Judson. “Your mother is going to want a report.”
“Tell Mom I’m doing fine,” Judson said. He was watching Gwen.
“I’ll do that.” Elias groped for another way to get the information Willow would demand from him. “So, you and Gwen.”
Judson raised his brows. “What about me and Gwen?”
Elias felt himself turning red. He was no good at this sort of conversation. In his opinion, there were excellent reasons why someone had invented the words personal and private. But Willow was worried, and he would do anything for Willow, including embarrass himself.
“Looks like the two of you hit it off pretty good,” he said, going for casual.
“Gwen is . . . different,” Judson said.
“Yep, I can see that. I like her. She’s got claws. That’s a fine thing in a woman.”
“Oh, yeah,” Judson said. His mouth kicked up a little at the corner.
“About that mess on the island a while back—”
“What about it?”
“Sometimes things just go south, son. Nothin’ you can do about it. You just got to walk away from a situation that can’t be fixed.”
Judson’s eyes narrowed. He stopped smiling. “I know that, Dad.”
“Believe me, I understand exactly how it feels when a man you think you can trust turns out to be a genuine diamondback rattler. It happens. You’ve got to let it go and move on.”
Judson almost smiled again. “The way you’ve moved on past your issues with Hank Barrett?”
“Barrett’s different.”
“Yeah? How?”
“Mainly because the bastard’s still alive and kickin’. But in your case, Joe Spalding is dead and good riddance.”
“I agree with you.” Judson stopped talking.
Elias waited, not sure how to proceed. So much for the fatherly pep talk.
Judson turned his attention back to Gwen. “I’m not staying awake at night wondering why it took me so long to figure out that Spalding had become one of the bad guys.”