No Stone Left Unturned

Chapter 3

"Okay, let's put him down. No one will hear him here and if he knows what's good for him he won't try to make a break for it!"

After being half carried and half dragged in and out of an elevator, Steve felt himself being released and he dropped to the ground on his side. Great. Just great. Can't a guy get a break while he's on vacation? Is it really too much to ask?

"Marty?" A woman's voice called out softly. Tthen more sharply she said, "Marty! What are you doing? Who is this man?"

"Sweetheart, now, don't…er….don't you worry about him. We got it all under control," replied the man named Marty.

"Oh Marty, what did you do to him?"

Steve lifted his head off the cool ground and through the material of the hood he could just make out shapes moving in front of him. "Would someone mind telling me what's…"

"Shut up!" A second man barked. He sounded younger and more confident.

Steve sighed heavily and listened to what was happening around him, while he tried to work his hands free of the bonds that tied them. He noted that the walls seem to echo around him and wherever he was smelled like clean laundry.

"Marty, what is he doing here?" the woman hissed frantically.

"Sweetheart, this guy's a cop. He was in Midlem's room when that maid found his body. We only just got out of there. He could've seen us!" Marty whispered back.

"Oh no. What are we going to do?" the woman gasped.

"Don't worry mom, we'll sort this out,"said the voice of the younger man.

"Let me talk to him," the middle aged woman reasoned in a calmer tone.

"No way!" the youth declared.

"Keep it down, son!" Marty hushed.

Steve had managed to almost wriggle a hand through the restraint when someone pulled the hood off his head amid hushed protests. There, kneeling beside him, was a silver haired woman in her fifties. Steve looked into her kind face and saw that she meant him no harm, then his eyes travelled up to the two companions behind her. One was a heavy-set man who looked to be the same age as the woman and the other was an athletic youth that bore a resemblance to the older man and woman except rather than looking nervous, he stood with his fists clenched, ready to strike. Steve looked into his eyes and could see that beyond the rough exterior, was a frightened boy in his late teens. A boy trying to protect the people he cared about. His parents? He also noted that the knuckles on one of the youth's hands were discoloured. Bruising?

"I'm sorry that you had to be subjected to this. Please, call me Agnes. Let me explain…"

"No, mom!" the youth all but shouted.

"Ryan, enough!" Marty asserted and the youth stepped back crossing his arms defiantly.

"You see, that man the maid found in room 115…he…I killed him," Agnes declared.

"No, don't listen to her. My wife doesn't know what she's saying," Marty insisted, wrapping his arms around Agnes's shoulders."I did it. I killed him."

Steve looked from one to the other, puzzled. Oh, boy. One of these cases, I see.

"Tell you what? Why don't we start from the beginning?" Steve offered calmly.

"Why don't you tell us what you saw? Then we'll decide if we want to tell you anything!" Ryan snapped.

The young off-duty Inspector locked eyes with the teen and said, "Look, I am here just like everyone else – trying to have a vacation. I have no idea what it is you think I saw or didn't see. Yes, I'm a policeman. I work in the homicide department in San Francisco. I can tell you right now that none of you look like cold- blooded killers. Whatever trouble you're obviously caught up in, maybe I can help. Keeping me tied up is only going make matters worse for all of you." He waited for his words to sink in.

A watched cake doesn't bake, Jeannie thought to herself. She worked purposefully in the kitchen on other tasks while the gingerbread honey cake she made finished in the oven. She carefully followed Steve's aunt's recipe wanting it to be just the way he remembered. It was to be her gift to him on Christmas Eve. She grinned almost devilishly as she remembered her father wrinkling his nose when she added sour cream to the batter.

In the meantime, Mike relaxed in the living room wearing his most comfortable lounging clothes and slippers while enjoying a Christmas special with Perry Como. The mellow singer's crooning nearly lulled the older man to sleep. Mike's thoughts drifted to past holiday seasons when his little Jeannie cuddled next to him on the sofa while Helen was busy with last minute preparations. Hearing Jeannie rattling in the kitchen sent Mike all the way back in time and he dreamed that it was Helen in the next room. He groggily laid his arm on a nearby throw pillow, half expecting a little girl to snuggle closer. He groaned in disappointment as he drifted back to reality.

A ringing phone sent Mike abruptly to the present. He reached over to the end table after a couple of rings. "Stone," Mike answered. He couldn't remember the last time he answered the phone with a hello.

"Hey, Mike. It's Haseejian," the burly detective on the other end of the line paused.

"Norm, did you go back to the office?" Mike asked curiously.

"No, I'm at home. One of the swing shift guys picked up the daily in-state homicide report from the teletype and called me. Say, Steve is staying at a resort near Tahoe, right?"

"Yes, he is. Tonight should be his last night there, why?"

"Do you remember the name of it?" Norm asked hesitantly.

"Sure, it was Mount something…" he thought for a second. "Mount Sumner, that's it. Why?"

"Well," Norm hedged as he started to answer.

"What is it? Is it Steve?" Mike asked with marked concern.

"We don't know who the victim is, but there was a homicide at this Mount Sumner Ski resort."

"What does the report say?"

"The local police reported a killing that happened at the resort earlier this afternoon. It said that a man staying alone at the hotel was found in his room with a fatal head injury. Release of the victim's identity was pending notification of family and confirmation."

Mike was silent as he shuddered in disbelief.

"Mike?" Norm asked. "You still there?"

"Couldn't be. I just spoke to him this afternoon. He was fine." Trouble always follows you, Buddy boy, Mike thought to himself.

"Yeah, I imagine not. Just Keller's little ruse to get out of subbing for me on Christmas Day," Haseejian joked nervously. The other end of the phone was awkwardly silent.

"Norm," Mike responded quietly moments later. "I'll try getting a hold of Steve at the resort. Why don't you call the local police and see what you can find out. No matter what, someone is dead and Steve is probably in the thick of it."

"On it, Mike," Haseejian responded with a tinge of sympathy in his voice.

"Stay in touch." Mike hung up the phone as he heard Jeannie walking towards him from behind.

"Who was that, Mike?" Jeannie asked curiously. "Was it Steve? He's going to be here, right?"

"It was one of the guys from the Bureau. Everything's fine, Sweetheart." Mike tried to put on a good act and hoped that Jeannie would buy into it atat least for now. He walked over to retrieve his wallet and the slip of paper Steve gave him with the hotel name and number.

Jeannie squinted at her father. Whenever he says 'Everything's fine, Sweetheart', it's not fine. She would have pursued further with Mike, but the timer for Steve's cake rang.

Steve waited for Agnes and Marty to respond. Taking the time to assess his surroundings, he figured he was in a storage area of an apartment building – most likely the basement. He could hear the clatter of nearby washers and dryers that other tenants were using. His arms cramped undeniably from being tied behind his back and his patience quickly dwindled. Before he could open his mouth again, Agnes spoke.

"What is your name, young man?"

"Inspector Steven Keller, ma'am," he replied respectfully, eyeing the older woman who knelt before him. Despite his situation, Steve felt reassured by the calmness of her voice and a puzzling familiarity that suggested she was the heart and moral center of his trio of captors.

"Well, Inspector Keller, I'm afraid that I am truly at fault," she began.

"Don't believe her, Inspector," Marty interrupted. "The blame falls on me. Not on her – and not on the boy either."

"Are you her husband?" Steve asked the older man.

"Yes, we've been married for nearly twenty five years," he added with a half smile. "The boy here is our youngest. He's only seventeen. He had nothing to do with this."

"I understand." Steve peered over to Ryan, noting the young man's hands were still clinched in tight balls as his eyes darted quickly between his parents.

"But it is my fault," Agnes interrupted. "Marty and Ryan went to this man's hotel room because of me. They never meant to…"

"It was an accident, Inspector. I went there with one purpose and that was to get this man to stop insulting my wife. We started arguing. It got a little heated and he shoved me. I shoved back and he fell, clipping his head on the corner of the desk."

Steve was confused as he remembered the crime scene. The housekeeper found the body wrapped in a duvet on the bed. "You called him Midlem. I take it that you were acquainted with him before the, um, accident?"

"Only recently," Marty answered. He hesitated to go further into detail with the Inspector. Looking away, he gritted his teeth and folded his arms. Steve picked up on the body language and decided to try a different tactic when another cramping wave came over his arms. "Okay, I can't take this anymore. Will you please untie my hands and feet?"

Marty nodded to Ryan who in turn came to Steve's side, pulled out an army knife and cut through both binds. Steve shook the feeling back into his arms and legs. "Now do you mind if I sit like a normal human being and you can tell me the rest?"

Ryan frowned at the Inspector, while Marty gave the go ahead for Steve to take a seat on a storage container.

"Thank you," Steve responded with mild sarcasm. He took a second to regroup. "Okay, so as far as you could tell, did the fall kill him?"

Marty sighed and looked back at Steve. "I believe so. He dropped like a stone. We didn't know what to do, so we left."

"And that's when the housekeeper found the body?" Steve wondered out loud. A look of confusion fell over his face. "But the body was in the bed and not by the desk. What aren't you telling me?"

"Well," Marty began sheepishly. "We went back."

"You what?" Steve asked incredulously.

Agnes continued. "Oh, Marty. Let's tell him what happened." She sat next to Steve and placed her hand on his arm. "You see, Inspector, Midlem cheated my mother." Agnes took a deep breath as she continued. "She currently lives alone on a small ranch just down the road near Carson City."

"Wait a minute, we're in Nevada?" Steve asked. He figured that the trio was unaware that transporting a kidnap victim over state lines constituted a federal offense.

"Why yes, just over the border from Tahoe," Agnes added. "But as I was about to say, the ranch became too hard for her to handle, so she decided to sell it."

"Understandable," Steve commented as he was still adjusting to the idea of being in another state. "Go on."

"Getting the ranch ready to sell proved to be quite a task. It was then that I realized that my mother was becoming confused. You know, senile. It's so sad – she's such a sweet dear. But seeing how her mind was, Marty and I began the process to put her under guardianship and her assets under conservatorship. It was for her own protection," Agnes added defensively.

Marty cast a quick glance to Ryan and then back to Agnes. He wondered how much she would say as Agnes continued to speak. "Recently, a silver vein was found near the ranch and we began to suspect that the vein extended to her property. Just as we did, Midlem showed up on my mother's doorstep with geological reports that showed the ground there was unstable from mining done more than one hundred years ago. He said that there'd be no way she could sell it."

"So let me guess: out of the kindness of his heart, he made her a low-ball offer," Steve added.

"Exactly," Agnes agreed with a slight smile. She was beginning to feel like Steve could be an ally.

"But I don't understand. With the property in conservatorship with you, he had no rights to buy the ranch regardless of the offer," Steve added.

"Unfortunately for us, the paperwork wasn't properly notarized until after my mother signed the ranch over to him," Agnes answered sadly.

"So he swindled your mother."

Marty began to develop some trust with the Inspector considering how Steve respectfully addressed his wife. He added, "Midlem had the deed at the hotel room and planned to record it as soon as the title office opened after Christmas."

Christmas, Steve thoughts strayed for a moment. Even if I get these people to tell their story to Detective Daniels, I'll get caught up in the weather for sure now. I hate to disappoint Mike and Jeannie. Jeannie…, he thought again. He had a beautiful beaded necklace he'd purchased in downtown Tahoe packed snugly away in his luggage for her. He hoped he would be able to give it to her at least before she returned to Arizona.

The young inspector shook himself back to reality and managed to ask another question directed at Marty. "So you were really after the deed then?"

"No, we didn't go there with the intent to steal the deed. We just wanted him to stop being such a jackass. You see, her mother told us about selling the ranch to this 'nice young man' and she told us where he was staying. I went to the hotel yesterday to ask him to do the right thing for the senile old woman and drop his plans. He only laughed at me, so I said we'd take him to court. Granted, it would be a hard to win the case given that we had no power over Agnes's mother at that point, but we felt like it was our only option, legally at least." Marty was angry. "Agnes tried to get through to Midlem later that day thinking that she would give him one more chance before we called the attorney. He said that no court would side with us and that my presence alone would discredit any argument the family had."

"What's he got on you?" Steve asked.

"Inspector, I'm a two time loser. I've done time for assault and tax evasion." Marty lowered his head and looked away. "Midlem somehow knew that."

Steve shook his head. "But, Agnes, I still don't understand how you think this is your fault."

Marty answered. "The final insult was when he said Agnes was a failure of a daughter and had only placed her property into conservatorship for the silver. He called her 'greedy filth.' If he hadn't done that, I wouldn't have gone back over there, but that was the last straw for me."

"So you were defending her honor, then? And with your son?"

"That's what men do," Marty added with a touch of bravado. "Although I regret taking Ryan with me now."

"And because you've been in jail twice, Agnes is willing to take the blame," Steve concluded.

"My dear sweet Agnes would take the fall for this because she's afraid that if I'm convicted a third time, I'll be put away permanently. You must understand, I'd never let Agnes take that chance."

"Of course, you wouldn't, Dad," Ryan said proudly with an edge of defiance. He shot a dagger of a glare over to Steve.

Marty continued. "Like I said, the original intent was not to steal the deed, but with Midlem dead, I thought maybe we could slip back in and grab the document and no one would be the wiser. We went back to the room and started going through the guy's stuff. When we heard the housekeeper trying to open the lock, we panicked."

"What did you do next?"

"Well, as quickly as we could, we tossed the body onto the bed and covered it up. You know, we made it look like he was asleep. Ryan crawled under the bed and I hid in the closet, praying that the maid wouldn't find either of us."

Steve cocked an eyebrow as he once again looked at Ryan. A seventeen year old kid sees a man die, helps his father put the deceased into a bed and then hides under the same bed while the housekeeper comes in. No wonder the kid is tightly wound.

Steve looked back at Marty. "I'm still a little confused. The maid screamed when she found the body. I was in the room seconds later. How did you get out without either of us seeing you?"

"The maid…" Marty began.

"That poor woman," Agnes interjected.

Marty nodded his head as he continued. "The maid was paged on her walkie talkie and told to bring extra towels to another room down the hall. I could see her through the crack in the closet door. She took the towels from her cart and left. I grabbed Ryan and we quietly slipped out. It was only seconds later that she came back to the room and found the body. When we heard her scream, we ducked into a little alcove and saw you as you ran pastsed us."

"Okay, I get it. And so by seeing me, you thought that perhaps I saw you. So of course, the logical thing would be to come back for a third time and kidnap me," Steve added with a sting of sarcasm.

"It's not like we planned any of this, Inspector," Marty defended.

Steve sighed. "Look, I hear what you are saying and in sort of a frenzied way, it makes sense. Why don't we go see Detective Daniels and explain what happened?"

"What about us abducting you?"

"You come with me now and we'll pretend that never happened. We'll just say that you found me and asked to talk." Knowing that the family faced Ffederal charges for his interstate trip, Steve made up his mind earlier not to press the fact he had been kidnapped.

Agnes looked at Marty and nodded her head. "Let's go back to Tahoe and turn ourselves in to the police. Perhaps with the Inspector, we might be able to get our side of the story told."

Minutes later, Marty, Agnes and Ryan, accompanied by Steve, walked out to an older model Impala that was parked outside the apartment building. The Inspector eyed the age and condition of the car and looked back at the shabby apartment building. He recognized that this family didn't have much by way of resources, probably living hand to mouth. He then looked up to the dark skies and wondered if the snowstorm was headed their way. "Sure hope we don't have any problems getting back to Tahoe. The snow storm was supposed to come through here by now."

"We can make it," Marty assured Steve. "I've lived here all my life. We sit in a valley and don't see the worst of the storms. It will likely pass over us with just a moderate amount of snow. Now getting through the pass back to San Francisco will be another story."

Steve frowned at the thought as he got into the front passenger seat. Well, first thing's first. Let's make it safely to the station.