“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.”
“Good,” Elias said. “That’s good.” He paused. “Then why the hell are you having trouble sleeping?”
“You ever had the feeling that you saw something important, something you really need to remember?”
Elias thought about it. “Not exactly, but I know what you mean. Where did you see this thing that you can’t remember?”
“First time I saw it was that day it all went to hell on the island.”