A Lasting Proposal. C.J. Carmichael
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as a hothead, had been suspected again. Then evidence proving that he’d been set up was found. James, who had no alibi for the night Rose was killed, was the most likely culprit. But he’d escaped to Mexico rather than face police inquiries, and hadn’t been seen since.
A convenient and tidy impasse in Canmore’s two unsolved homicide cases. Jake, however, wasn’t so sure that James was the guilty party. Or if so, that he’d acted alone. And others in town shared his doubts.
Carefully, Jake cut out the article and the attached photos. He paused to examine them. First Jilly, then Rose, now Jilly’s father. Too many deaths, shrouded in too much uncertainty, for one small mountain town of only ten thousand people.
Jake picked up the local paper next. Ironically, on the front page of the Leader was a shot of Max Strongman and a bold heading: Canmore Mayor Won’t Run Again In Fall Election.
Well, that was good news. Jake snapped the paper, then peered again at the picture of Strongman. The man had a distinguished, statesmanlike air, but he was as wily as an old coyote, and manipulative to boot. Jake read about his plans to retire from public office to pursue “other interests.” Hah! Jake reached for the phone to call his cousin.
“Did you hear the news about Strongman?” he asked once Cathleen had passed the phone over to her husband.
“Wish I could say it was good news,” Dylan said. “But you know, the minute he’s no longer mayor of Canmore, he’ll be pushing that damn recreational housing project on my father’s land.”
“Next to the oil wells?”
Dylan’s laugh was bitter. “If he goes ahead with this, the development will cut right across the natural wildlife corridor along Thunder Creek.”
“We’ve got to stop him somehow.”
“Don’t I wish,” Dylan agreed. “Our best hope is that we elect an antidevelopment mayor who throws so many roadblocks in Strongman’s way he hasn’t a chance.”
But that wasn’t likely. Feelings both for and against development in Canmore ran strong, but lately the tide had definitely been in favor of development. Plus, a new man was in the wings—a shoe-in for the job if Max retired. And he was prodevelopment, too.
“Any other options?” Jake asked.
“Let me see. Why don’t we prove Max planned both my mother’s and Jilly Beckett’s deaths, and that James was merely a pawn in his hands. Once Max is in jail, he’ll have a hard time presenting his development plans to town council.”
Jake sank into a nearby chair. “Now, why didn’t I think of that?” Actually, the two men had discussed the possibility of Max’s involvement in Rose’s murder to the point of exhaustion. They each suspected that James had tossed that firecracker as a diversion for his father to shoot Jilly. Odds on proving that, however, were slim at best.
After a depressing pause, Jake told his cousin about the plans for upgrading Grizzly Peaks.
“So you need a silent partner, do you? Let me think about that. I may know just the person.”
“That sounds intriguing.”
“Oh, she is. But I have to go, buddy. Cathleen’s giving me that look….”
“Say no more.” Jake hung up, knowing his cousin was referring to the look that every man longed for. The look that meant Come to bed, darling.
Lucky guy. Jake hadn’t been the recipient of the look in a long time. In fact, how long had it been?
Sprawling out on the sofa ten minutes later, with a beer and the remote control, Jake tried to recall the last woman he’d had in his bed. Over the years he’d gone through a series of relationships with a number of women. Each time there’d come a point when demands were made that he’d felt unable to meet. The last one’s name had been…Terri-Lynn.
The next one would be…who? The pickings were getting meager, Jake had to admit. Most women around his age were married. He was willing to date younger ones. But even the women in that group were mostly paired off now.
Maybe he’d missed his chance. Yet Jake didn’t regret ending any one of his failed relationships. So maybe he was born to be a bachelor. It wasn’t the worst fate for a man…especially one as busy as he was. Grizzly Peaks took a lot out of him. And now he had to find the equity partner Harvey was talking about.
Jake picked up his copy of the financial papers and scanned the bottom line. Who did Dylan know with that much money available?
MAUREEN WENT TO Conrad Beckett’s funeral Tuesday afternoon. She sat near the back of the Riverview United Church, the same church where services had been held for her husband, little more than one year ago. And previous to that, for Jilly Beckett.
Many of the people filling the pews today had attended those funerals, as well. Certainly Linda Beckett had been at both. Maureen remembered her stopping to speak after Rod’s service.
“If you ever need someone to talk to, Maureen,” she’d said, squeezing her hand hard, “I’d be glad to help.”
Linda’s well-meaning kindness had made Maureen feel guilty for not having offered the same to Linda after Jilly’s funeral. She’d assumed that family members, and more intimate friends, would be filling that role in Linda’s life. And Conrad’s. But maybe they hadn’t.
The service was over at four. Maureen doubted that Linda Beckett even recognized her when she stepped up to give her condolences. The new widow seemed disoriented. Her sister had guided her through every step of the service as carefully as if Linda had suddenly gone blind.
Maureen left the throng of people with a sense of unease. She’d hoped attending the funeral would provide closure in the whole affair, but she was left feeling even more unsettled.
From the comfortable leather-covered driving seat of her BMW, she was tempted to return to the office but instead went to the Safeway and picked up a rotisserie chicken, rolls and a bagged salad. Usually she had a housekeeper half days, so someone would be home when Holly came from school. But they were between employees right now—the last woman had quit when Holly had tossed her dinner in the garbage without even giving it a taste.
Just as Maureen was pulling into her garage, the cell phone rang. She attached the small speaker into her ear and pressed Talk.
“Hello?” With her free hand, she grabbed the bags of groceries, then entered the house.
“It’s me. Cathleen. Dylan asked me to let you know about an opportunity. It’s with his cousin, Jake Hartman. Do you remember him from our wedding?”
As it so happened, Maureen did remember Jake—a big man with dark blond hair. She’d caught his gaze on her a few times during the ceremony, then later at the reception. At the time she’d been vaguely uncomfortable with the man’s open scrutiny.
Now she was curious. “What about Jake?”
“He’s looking for new capital for his heli-skiing business. It sounds frivolous, but trust me, it’s extremely successful. His profits are amazing.”
“So?” Maureen set the grocery bags on the counter. She could hear the muffled, pulsing bass of Holly’s music coming from upstairs. Her daughter craved awful stuff these days, heavy metal from bands like Faith Warning and Bitter End. Maureen had asked Holly not to buy those kinds of CDs, so instead she borrowed pirated copies from kids at school.
“I thought you might be interested. You have that money from Rod’s life insurance, and I know how pitiful interest rates are these days.”
Maureen pulled out a bowl for the salad, then a knife to carve the chicken. “You think I should invest Holly’s inheritance from her father in a heli-skiing business? Cathleen, that’s nuts!”
“Why? Jake’s a great guy and Grizzly Peaks has a world-class reputation. With your cut of the profits, you probably wouldn’t have to work anymore,