The Everett Case

The Everett Case(Harry E. Dinsen) The Bounty Hunters
The Everett Case

Story #3 A case seems unsolvable until K.C and Ellen get a hold of it to find the alternatives to why a wealthy financier was murdered. And Wesley their ward has half of Colorado Springs and El Paso County police help him with his homework. His teacher is far from impressed.

1.

Morning for Ellen took on a whole new meaning as she gave Wesley his breakfast and getting him ready for school. Wesley was eating when K.C. walked in through the back door of Ellen’s house, a cup coffee in hand. He kissed Ellen than sat at the table.
For a brief moment they were a family as they finished breakfast. Wesley had been living with Ellen and K.C. for a month and settled into part of their morning routine. He was just getting over the shock of seeing his parents kill each other and an aunt.
The phone rang. Wesley looked up from his bowl of cereal. “Bet its Mr. Hampton.”
“Wouldn’t doubt it. It’s been too quiet the last couple days.” Ellen reached back to the counter for the cordless phone. Glancing at the caller ID she said, “Good guess, Wesley.” Pressing the speaker button she answered the phone, “Pascal and Taylor Investigators -- ”
“Miss Pascal, Mr. Hampton, need to see you and Mr. Taylor this morning when you have the chance.”
“Yes, sir we’ll be there -- ” Ellen looked at K.C. “Eight?”
K.C. nodded.
“Eight, sir.”
“No rush. I know you have Wesley to take care of first.”
K.C. finished his coffee as Ellen assured Wesley was ready for the bus. The sprite youngster easily made friends in the neighborhood and anxious to meet before the bus arrived. Wesley finished his cereal then ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Ellen assured his lunch was packed in his back pack checking the new school “brown bag” policy.
K.C. looked at the menu. “We never had this when I was going to school.”
“How long ago was that, hone?” Ellen said as she followed Wesley out the door to the bus stop. “And time to spare.”
Ellen joined the group of mothers at the bus stop each morning now to assure her charge got on the bus.
The District 20 school bus pulled up to the curb, the door opened and boys and girls began boarding.
Each morning Ellen knew what she was missing out of her life watching Wesley join his new friends at the stop. The giggling yelling children were safely on the bus.
A mother walked up to Ellen. “I really admire what you’re doing Miss Pascal and Mr.
Taylor, talking to other neighbors even with the work you do you have taken on the responsibility of helping Wesley.”
“Thank you. It was rough the first week,” said Ellen. “Fortunately the bodies were transferred here and Wesley was able to see his parents for the last time.”
K.C. and Ellen found themselves in the middle of a domestic quarrel that ended in a shootout in Alamosa, Colorado and both parents and an aunt were killed. The boy, Wesley was left an orphan, Ellen and K.C. took on the responsibility of caring for him while El Paso County attempted to find family or relations to adopt him.
K.C. walked out to the stop, coffee cup in hand waving to Wesley as the bus pulled away from the curb.
The mother said, “I was just telling Miss Pascal how I admire what you have done for
Wesley.”
“Thank you. He’s still adjusting to our arrangement and to new friends and the
neighborhood. He’s getting along.”
The group returned home, others leaving for work.
As they walked back to the house Ellen asked, “Did Mr. Hampton call back?”
“Yes. We must have missed something last night. A Carl Everett died a few days ago last night. His widow, despite the forensics’ report wants us to get involved. Something about the report apparently doesn’t add up to her.”
They reached the house. Ellen said, “Does she realize that can develop into a conflict of interest?”
K.C. opened the door letting Ellen step in. “I mentioned that to Mr. Hampton and he mentioned it too but she thinks there’s more to this than anybody seems to realize. On the flip side, I wasn’t all that impressed.”
Closing the door, he watched as Ellen started for the bedroom. “We best get ready dear it’s getting late.”
A short time later Ellen and K.C. exited from their respective houses. A few neighbors standing by their driveways watched as K.C. held the car door for Ellen, dressed in a beige business suit, K.C. had on his dark suit; the two left in the yellow Camaro. The neighbors knew from past experience the two were about to take another assignment.

2.

Mr. Hampton fingered the bowl of his gnarled brier pipe wishing he could smoke inside his office instead of out on the side walk. “Barbaric,” he would tell them.
“Mrs. Everett is adamant that you two take this case.” Mr. Hampton said sitting side ways at his desk. “Seems, and I am quoting Mrs. Everett on this, she has more faith in you two to solve this case then the police. To the police this is a write off.”
“You did explain to her this can run into a conflict of interest, sir?” K.C. asked Mr. Hampton again closing his note book.
Mr. Hampton nodded his head. “I did. And she is not impressed with what they, forensics or the coroner’s inquest which followed, did. She did not leave me much choice in this matter. Your first week’s expenses are covered.”
Ellen reached for the envelopes on the desk. She handed one to K.C. opening the other and gasped.
Mr. Hampton rubbed the bowl of his gnarled briar pipe. “Yes, Mrs. Everett does have a lot of confidence in you two. Don’t let her down.”
“In other words, ‘Don’t screw it up’.”
Mr. Hampton said in a droll tone, “That too.”
K.C. opened his envelope. Looking in at the check he could not help but shift a quick glance to Ellen, raising his brows in mild surprise. “Uh, yeah I’d say so.”
Walking out of the building on to North Tejon K.C. checked the time. “Let’s stop by the bank first to cash these checks then head up to Black Canyon Estates to see this old gal. More money than common sense.”
“What makes you think she’s old?”
“With that much money, she’s gotta be pushing her mid-fifties.”
“Some men do marry young women you know.” Ellen looked up at K.C. with a coy smile. “And on his death she inherits it all.”
K.C. looked down at Ellen with a knowing grin. “So my dear, do you want a new fur coat?”
Ellen bumped K.C. in the hips as they walked to the car. “Sorry, love I’m an animal rights activist. No.”
“Oh sorry. How about a new car?”
“I like what I got. The bank, James.”
A half hour later K.C. contacted Mrs. Everett as they were leaving the bank.
“Yes. I’ll be available for interview, Mr. Taylor. How soon?”
“Ten thirty be okay, about a half hour?”
“Certainly.”
K.C. signed off and slipped the cell phone back in the jacket pocket. “This better not be like the last one we walked in to with our eyes wide open.”
“I know but I’m inclined to believe there is more to this then just a simple stroke like the coroner says.”
“That’s our next stop after Mrs. Everett. Here’s the car.”

3.
K.C. stopped at the gate house as the guard called the house to assure Mrs. Everett was expecting them.
Ellen looked around as they waited for the guard. “Hmm, has any one ever tried to get in here without him knowing about it?”
“Yeah, two guys did one time. They were sorry they tried.”
The guard stepped out of the guard house. “Very well, Major. Have a good day.”
“Excuse me?”
From the guard house to the top of the hill was all up hill. K.C. pressed the accelerator the Camaro surged forward.
“Former Ranger with the Five-oh third. He left just about the time I took over. There are five of them plus three I believe SEALS employed here on four shifts. That’s why I question Mrs. Everett’s story to Mr. Hampton his dying at home.”
“A set up?”
“That or something else. I knew Carl Everett was a bit of an athletic type.”
They continued up the long winding road that reminded him of driving up Pikes Peak.
The house was located on a hillock near the top of the property.
“Mrs. Everett.”
They got out and climbed a set of stairs to the front.
Ellen looked around a moment as they waited for the door to open. “I bet no door-to-door salesmen call here.”
“If they can get past the guards. He’s not the only one on duty. There are four more in the hills but you’d be hard pressed to find them.”
The door opened. A very officious appearing woman answered at the door. “Yes?”
“Pascal and Taylor to see Mrs. Everett please.” Ellen snapped the credentials case closed.
“Oh yes. Please come in. Mrs. Everett is expecting you.”
K.C. and Ellen followed the lady through the airy house, its openness with high floor to
ceiling windows. They entered a room that over looked the mountains and a pine forest that seemed to go on forever. A blonde head could be seen above the back of the chair.
“Ms. Ellen Pascal and Mr. K.C. Taylor, of Pascal and Taylor Investigative Services, Mrs.
Everett.”
The chair swiveled around, the woman wearing clear rimmed glasses in her early thirties faced them. Mrs. Everett inclined her head to them:
“Thank you, Bernice. Please be seated, Miss Pascal and Mr. Taylor.” There was a pause as K.C. and Ellen seated themselves opposite Mrs. Everett. She fixed them with her piercing gaze for the space of a breath. “You come with high praise and impeccable credentials, Miss Pascal – Mr. Taylor. I spoke personally with Mr. Hampton and he had nothing but praise for both of you.”
Bernice took a chair to the side facing the three.
“Thank you, Mrs. Everett,” said Ellen. “May I please record this meeting for later reference?”
Mrs. Everett nodded her head in assent. “Yes. Most certainly.”
Ellen quickly set up the digital recorder and laptop. K.C. took the time to form the opening questions he would ask, most of which bordered on, who, what, where, and when.
Ellen nodded. K.C. started, “To begin, Mrs. Everett you indicated in the interview with Mr. Hampton that you suspect more to this than a stroke. Please elaborate.”
“Certainly. Carl was a very healthy athletic man. Loved sports and other activities. Despite his job he liked to keep active. As a matter of fact, the week prior to what happened was his annual medical physical at Penrose Hospital Sports Clinic. It showed his heart was strong, no problems. That is why I strongly question the forensics’ finding.”
“And his job, Mrs. Everett?” K.C. asked.
“Stocks, bonds and Finances.”
“Now this will be hard for you,” K.C. said. “This sort of business more than any other breeds contempt and enemies. Do you know if he had any?”
“Carl never to my knowledge mentioned any enemies. But then again if there were he never told me about them.”
“Where was his office, Mrs. Everett?” Ellen quickly cut across K.C.’s next question.
“Down town. Number 410 South Cascade, Suite 314.”
K.C. said “The Wells Fargo Building. Do you have any idea who his friends, business associates were?”
Ellen recorded the addresses on the laptop of those Mrs. Everett could remember. Bernice got Mrs. Everett’s address book from the desk.
“Some. He went into business with a Lester Garner. I never heard Carl mention Garner in vain. He thought very highly of him as he did all the others there.”
K.C. glanced back at Mrs. Everett. “Mrs. Everett, what makes or leads you to believe you suspect your husband was murdered?”
“Just a second ago I told you I did not know that Carl had any enemies. Partly true, partly wrong. He had a disagreement with a colleague two weeks prior I believe.”
K.C. glanced toward Ellen. Their eyes met. He conveyed, ‘We’re making progress.’
“Mrs. Everett, do you recall anything about this disagreement and who it was with?”
Mrs. Everett thought about the details that her husband related to her one evening. “Well I suppose, Mr. Taylor, the disagreement had to do with funds to be used on a special project they were working on at the time.”
Ellen spoke up, “Was the project impacted by your husband’s death?”
“No mention of the project?” K.C. asked.
“None.”
A short time later K.C. and Ellen said their good-byes and Bernice showed them to the door.
Ellen waited until they were down in Old Colorado City heading back east on Colorado
Avenue before she spoke.
“Where to, forensics?”
“Absolutely.”
Ellen was quiet seeing K.C. was thinking. The past couple years the two sometimes acted as one. Ellen had the impression this was going to be one of those times.
“Looking for a toxicology test?”
“This case has the ear marks of something not being right. In other words, Carl Everett had to have been killed, if you will with a substance that was slow acting so he’d die at home and it had to be someone who was aware of his daily routine. Plus, the means to employ the drug or narcotic. Being shot is not the answer.”
K.C. was quiet again as he threaded his way through the downtown traffic south to East Las Vegas Avenue and south to the Corrections complex. K.C. found himself behind a slow moving transit-mix truck on East Las Vegas.
“Finally. Here we are.”
“So we don’t have the body, so we’ll have to rely on circumstantial evidence.”
“Well that’s always encouraging.”
K.C. pulled into the driveway that leads to the forensics and county coroner side of the Corrections complex. Parking, K.C. got out to help Ellen out of the car. They walked into the building to the reception desk.
Ellen stepped up to the counter the clerk looking up at them. Producing her credentials case Ellen said, “Ellen Pascal of Pascal and Taylor Investigative Services. We’d like to talk to Doctor Walker if we may.”
“I’ll see if he’s busy. And what is this in reference to?”
“The Everett Case.”
The lady’s head jerked up at the mention of Everett. “I’ll let him know.”
They only had a few seconds to wait until Walker stepped out of his office.
“K.C. and Ellen. Come in.”
They stepped behind the counter and to Doctor Walker’s office.
“So, this is a rare pleasure. What can I do for you two?”
He gestured to two chairs by his desk.
“Everett Case, Frank. Was there a toxicology test done on Carl Everett?”
“Suspect something?” Walker said looking from one to the other sitting down.
“Yes. Nothing is adding up,” said K.C. folding his hands across his chest. “Mrs. Everett hired us to look into her husband’s death or cause of death. She apparently suspects there is more to this then there is being let onto.”
“We did all the usual tests and examinations there were to do. I don’t think a toxicology test was done. No reason to suspect anything of the sort.”
“Okay, let’s suppose for sake of argument, there was a chemical somehow introduced
into the body to cause the symptoms of a heart attack – or stroke. What would somebody use?”
“A barbiturate,” he replied. “Simplest substance to get ahold of on the black market.”
“That would be in a liquid form also?”
“It can be. It’s also known as fentanyl given in an IV form – or in some cases syringe.”
K.C. thought a minute. “Are there photographs of the body?”
Ellen glanced at K.C. with a look of disgust.
“Yes.” Walker pulled an envelope of photos from a file drawer marked ‘Everett, Carl’ and case number and evidence number laying them on the desk.
K.C. pulled them out looking for a particular photo. Handing them to Ellen, she glanced at them then passed them back. “That’s okay dear, I’ll just take your word for it.”
“Ah! This is it. Got a magnifying glass?”
Ellen looked at the photo of a foot from the calf down. “What are you looking for?”
“Alternate methods to introduce the drug into the body.”
Walker swung the desk light with a magnifying glass around to K.C. “What did you find?”
“How well did you look at these photos – or body?”
“Under the circumstances, well enough.”
“Take a look.” He held the picture under the magnifying glass which enlarged the picture to three times its size. “That spot? He was hit with a less then B-B size pellet in the ankle.”
Ellen and Walker crowded around the glass to look at the pin head sized blood clot near the left ankle bone.
“How?” Walker said looking up at K.C. with concern.
Ellen looked from the forensics doctor to K.C.
“Easy. An old trick from the Russian KGB or FSB. Of course it was only used once that I know of. Everyone caught onto the idea. They were worried it’d be used against them instead. The tip of an umbrella is spring loaded, the pellet inserted in a firing chamber. The release or trigger is in the handle. Point the tip at a victim’s ankle – and well the rest is easy to see what happens.”
“And the other way?” Ellen asked sitting down looking up at K.C.
K.C. laid the picture down swinging the lamp back over the desk. “Syringe. Injected into a donut maybe?”
Walker looked across the desk at K.C. “You’re in the wrong business, K.C. You need to be doing this and I need to open a flower shop on Academy Boulevard.”

4.

K.C. followed East Las Vegas Avenue back to town and the main police headquarters on Rio Grande Avenue.
“What’s next?” Ellen asked looking at the time
“The police report. That’ll take about three days before we get it. But I want it for the record. And if Mrs. Everett wants to drop the hammer on somebody, she’ll have it as ammunition so-to-speak.”
The police station didn’t take more than fifteen minutes and they were headed to a Village Inn for lunch then headed home, the two were silent on the drive home.
K.C. paced around Ellen’s house with the list of names.
“You know, I have half a mind to call a brain storming session on this.”
Ellen walked out of her room pulling on a T-shirt. “What do you think that will do?”
“First off inject some fresh ideas into this plus learn if anyone knows of a different idea to introduce the serum into Everett then what I came up with.”
K.C. spent the rest of the afternoon rounding up people he knew either PI’s, police, deputies, or detectives they knew to help with the case.
Three thirty the front door banged opened. “Miss Ellen, I’m home!”
“In the kitchen, Wesley.”
“Hello, Miss Ellen.”
Ellen looked down at the girl, a miniature version of her mother. Jennifer Wooten,
Wesley’s friend from next door followed Wesley into the kitchen.
The two kids sat at the kitchen table as Ellen served them cookies and milk.
K.C. walked in from the den the list in hand. “Okay I have twelve off this list that’ll be here. Steven Patrick especially is familiar with this case and agrees with me …”
“Hello Mr. K.C.”
“I didn’t see you. You sneak in?”
The girl giggled. “No sir. I came in with Wesley.”
“What time are you going to do this …” Ellen wagged her fingers in the air. “Brain storm session, K.C.?”
“Brain storm?” the two kids repeated.
K.C. said, “Everybody puts out ideas, there’s no such thing as right or wrong until you narrow the selection down two best – or in some cases the worse. Then you discuss those until you finally arrive at the one solution for getting the job done.”
“Oh that’s like what we do in school.”
“Um, yeah.” K.C. met Ellen’s annoyed look.
“You two finish up and get on with your homework. And Jennie, your Mom will be home soon.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Promptly at 7 p.m. police, deputies, PI’s and detectives were showing up.
Steven Patrick and David Phlegm, Steve’s cousin walked out to the kitchen to get sodas. Wesley was at the kitchen table still struggling with his homework.
Steve looked at the paper. “Having problems, Wesley?”
“Yes sir. This is hard.”
David glanced at the questions. “Who thought of these questions?”
“Miss Bates.”
“As in …?”
“His teacher.” Steve read the question then put the answer down. “Hope that helps?”
Before they started nearly every Policeman, Deputy, PI and Detective helped Wesley with his homework. The meeting was about to begin, Wesley gathered up his books and went to his room feeling lucky he had the Police do his homework that night.
K.C. setup an easel in the living room.
“Okay this is what Ellen and I have so far. Everett succumbed to a heart attack. Widow doesn’t buy the Forensics’ prognosis. She is of the opinion something else happened.”

Morning dawned bright and sunny. Ellen walked out to the school bus stop, other mothers and fathers meeting each other. K.C. wandered out a few minutes later, cup of coffee in hand. Jennifer Wooten’s parents were standing with her when Wesley walked up to the curb.
“`Morning, Jennie.”
“Good morning, Wesley. How did you do on the home work?” She asked innocently.
Ellen and K.C. were talking with Jennie’s parents, their neighbors hearing Jennie and Wesley talking. Wesley pulled the sheets of paper from his back pack.
“Okay. Those would have been tough but I had help.”
“Oh?”
Ellen looked down at Wesley. “What kind of help, Wesley?”
The two kids plus a couple others looked up as she glanced down at Wesley.
Wesley said quietly so Ellen had to strain to hear him above the noise. “A few um, friends you might say.”
“Oh?”
Connie Wooten, Jennie’s mother said softly, “Oops.”
Pointing at Wesley Ellen said to K.C., “You aware of the quote – unquote help he had on
his homework?”
“Oh? Who?”
“Half the police and deputies of El Paso County.”
“Um, no.”
At that moment the school bus turned onto the street. Ellen pointed down at Wesley with a frown. K.C. looked down at Wesley as the kids jockeyed for position to board the bus. “I thought he did his homework himself.”
“Did with some help it seems. Expect a letter from his teacher.”
The two returned to the house for an interview with Everett’s company. Pouring himself another cup of coffee K.C. his ears still burning from Ellen’s ire. He checked the time then called Mrs. Everett. Ellen stepped into the office with a cup of coffee sitting across from K.C. he punched the speaker phone button.
The phone was answered on the second ring. “Everett Estate.”
“K.C. with Pascal and Taylor Investigative Services, Mrs. Everett please.”

Wesley’s class quickly filed into the room taking their seats. The teacher, Ms. Bates gave them a few minutes before she began with the announcements and opening remarks.
“Last night’s homework I realized seemed a bit hard to some of you. When you enter the next grade next year it will get progressively harder. I did not expect perfect scores. Effort is what counts on this. Hand in your papers starting from the back forward and we’ll go over the work.”
Ms. Bates noticed Wesley appeared as if he was ready to jump out of his “skin” any minute.
Jennie seated across from Wesley looked over at him. He was sweating as the papers were passed to the front of the class room. She whispered, “Ms. Bates will see it for sure.”
The kids were strangely quiet some aware of Wesley’s ruse.
Ms. Gregg the assistant teacher walked along the first row picking up the papers as Ms. Bates wrote down the first question on the white board.
Ms. Gregg went through the papers to assure she had them all. She stopped at Wesley’s
paper frowning looking at Wesley. Stepping up behind Ms. Bates, she said in a soft voice, “Laura, look at this paper.”
Turning, Ms. Bates took the papers from Ms. Gregg. Looking at the paper she could not help but see twelve different forms of adult handwriting. As casually as she could, Ms. Bates looked at Wesley.
“Wesley, did you do the home work last night?”
“Uh, yes ma’am.” Wesley knew what Ms. Bates next question would be. The other kids in the class knew without a doubt Ms. Bates was not happy with Wesley.
“Did you have help with the work?”
Ms. Bates and her assistant gazed at Wesley with dark looks the other students knew without a doubt spelled doom for Wesley.
“Some ma’am.”
“Some. How many is ‘some’, Wesley?”
Jennifer knew she’d seen the police and sheriff’s cars, other cars and trucks in front of both houses.
Wesley cleared his throat as best he could through chocked words said, “Twelve, ma’am. Ms. Ellen and Mr. K.C. had a meeting with the police last night to help on a case.”
“Twelve …?”
Jennifer quickly spoke up, “Police, deputies, detectives…”
A couple kids in the class snickered.
“Thank you Jennifer. The rest of you be quiet. See me after class Wesley.”
Ms. Gregg said, “I drove by there last night. So that’s why all those police cars were at their house last night.”
5.
K.C. and Ellen stepped off the elevator and walked the short distance to Suite 314 walking in to the reception area a young woman looked up from her computer.
“May I help you?” she asked then stopped when K.C. and Ellen produced their credential cases.
“Ellen Pascale of Pascal and Taylor Investigative Services, we’d like to speak to
Mr. Thomas Garner if you will?”
The lady buzzed the office. “K.C. Taylor and Ms. Pascal, of Pascal and Taylor Investigative Services, sir.”
Garner was at his door in an instant not aware Mrs. Everett had hired private detectives. “Um, yes? How can I help you?”
“Yes sir, Mr. Garner, Thomas Garner?” K.C. held his hand out to Mr. Garner. K.C. introduced himself and Ellen. Garner’s face drained of all color, which was not lost on either. “We’d like to get some details on the Everett Case if you will.”
“Um, yes please, my office.”
Ellen saw Everett’s office was still taped off and the chain of custody forms still stuck to the closed door. She noticed it appeared as though the custodian had not been in the office in the last couple days. She nudged K.C. a partially eaten donut lay on top of other trash.
“Yes, I am quite familiar with the two. Please, Mr. Taylor, Ms. Pascal have a seat. How may I help you?” He nodded to the administrator. “So, um, how can I help you?”
“Some questions, sir,” K.C. began sitting down. “First may Ms. Pascal record this meeting for the record for future reference on our part?”
He waved his hand at Ellen, “You may.”
K.C. began. “The Everett Case, sir how well did you know Mr. Everett?”
“Oh, yes, the Everett Case. Such a shame. Fine man. I knew Carl quite well. We were business partners – we go back several years – college. We set up a business venture here in the `Springs, maybe twenty or more years ago.”
Ellen quickly cut in, “Did you ever have disagreements over anything?”
“Oh, heavens yes. Business partners always do. Nothing serious. Why do you ask?”
“The relationship. To set the record straight on Carl Everett’s death,” said K.C. leaning on the arm of the chair staring Garner in the eye. “How do you suppose he died?”
Garner stared off toward the window at his back. He turned to look at K.C. “Interesting question. Well I suppose as the forensics doctor said, heart attack. You know the late fifties strokes or heart attacks are more prevalent in older people.”
“Was he the athletic type?”
“Yes. I know for a fact he ran at least two to three miles nearly every day.”
“Being a financial business, did you ever suffer a financial set back?”
“Oh, gosh yes. The financial crash of oh-four. A couple accounts tanked on us. It caused all kind of problems for us.”
K.C. and Ellen traded questioning looks.
Ellen said, “Just one more question, Mr. Garner how did you view Mr. Everett as a financial partner?”
That was a question Garner did not see coming. He replied after a minute’s time which K.C. and Ellen noticed he pondered on how to answer the answer and not to give himself away.
“Well, he was good. I mean that’s a job you have to really be on top of your profession when dealing with other people’s money. And he was good – almost as good as me even.”
“Yes, well I believe that’s is all sir, thank you.”
Garner’s answers did not satisfy K.C. or Ellen’s inquisitiveness. As they started to leave Garner’s office, K.C. stopped to point to Everett’s office.
“By the way, Mr. Garner, I see the police tape and chain of custody forms are still in place. I thought the police would have the tape and forms taken down by now?”
Garner stood in his office door. Shrugging he said, “I don’t know. One of the detectives said to leave it for now. So we left it.”
“Who has the keys to Everett’s old office?” K.C. looked back at Garner.
“Mm, the Building Manager, the Facilities people, and the police. Why?”
“Just wondering since the case is still open.” K.C. glanced at Ellen.
They stepped out to the hall way and the third floor lobby and landing.
Ellen said, “I smell smoke.”
“Steve Patrick is the fire.” K.C. took out his cell phone held it up to assure he had a good signal. Speed dialing Patrick’s cell phone it rang twice then was answered, he said, “Steve? K.C….”
“Yeah, K.C.?”
“Where you at right now?”
“Um, Willamette and Weber. Got something?”
“Good. Need ya to have Suite 314 the Wells Fargo building on Cascade Avenue opened. Who has the key to Everett’s old office?”
“Me. I got stuck holding on to it. You need me there?”
“Yes. There may be evidence in the waste basket in the office the police missed a few days ago.”
“Be there!”

The solid blue federal bar on Patrick’s truck was turned on and siren sounded its morbant wail. Traffic at the intersection came to a sudden halt as the bronze and white K5 Blazer shot across the intersection, the overhead light bar flashing its angry blue warning.
K.C. leaned carelessly against the stainless steel stairwell railing watching the elevators in front of him. People coming and going looked at them wondered what or who the pair were waiting for.
K.C. heard the siren before he saw the truck. He looked over his shoulder out the windows to Cascade Avenue as the K5 Blazer pulled up into the No Parking Zone in front of the Wells Fargo Building. Patrick thrust the door open leaving the blue rotary’s and flashers on.
“He’s her – eee!” K.C. said watching Patrick running up the steps to the front doors.
Ellen looked at her watch. “Five minutes flat. That’s doing pretty good in down town traffic.”
K.C. laughed. “Why do you think Steve has that stand-off eighteen inch front-end on his truck—sure ain’t for good looks.”
A couple minutes later Patrick appeared at the head of the steps key in hand. He took the lead, K.C. and Ellen trailing. Patrick walked back in to the Suite, Garner nearly dropped the papers he was handing the administrator as the three walked into the Suite; Patrick went to the taped off office. He filled out the custody forms, K.C. witness, Patrick opened the office stepping past the tape. Patrick pulled a clear plastic bag from his pocket and plastic gloves from his jacket to place the whole waste basket in. Sealing it he stepped out of the office to lock and put the police seals back in place.
Garner and Natalie Shelby watched speechlessly as the waste basket was taken from the office.
Wordlessly the three left the office.
Garner looked across the administrator who watched puzzled, asked Ms. Shelby, “Do you think they suspect?”
“Of course, don’t you know who that was with the two bounty hunters?” she barked.
Garner shook his head.
“Patrick! He’s as good as they are!” She threw the papers on to the desk and went back to her office.
Garner put a hand over his eyes in worry.

6.

The three watched as the forensics doctor carefully, using a scalpel to cut the donut in to bite size pieces. He submitted each piece to a dye test. The narcotic immediately showed up.
“There ya go guys.”
“Let’s make sure he’s at the office,” Ellen suggested.
To belay their suspicions Dr. Walker called the office first. Ellen showed him the phone number. The administrator answered.
“No Doctor, Mr. Garner has gone home for the day. Said he has a sudden headache from all the stress.”
“Thank you, ma`am.” He cut the connection. “Gone home.”
Patrick said turning to the door. “Good I’ll get the arrest warrant for Garner and search warrant if we need one.”
“Good, we’ll keep the old boy busy. Better have one for the office again and the house. Just in case the boy is planning to blow town in a hurry.”

Pulling up to the huse, Ellen looked at the address on the file card. “That’s it.”
“Nice neighborhood,” K.C. remarked parking the car. “Smell the money?”
Ellen and K.C. got out of the car and walked up the long walk to the door. K.C. looked over the upscale neighborhood of South Woods Park as Ellen pressed the doorbell she noticed nothing less than a Mercedes or Jaguar graced several driveways. Old spreading Maples and Red Oakes shaded the lawns and homes from the coming summer heat.
The door opened, a maid looked out. “May I help you?”
K.C. said, “Mr. Garner, please. K.C. of Pascal and Taylor Investigative Services.”
“One moment, please.” The door closed.
“About as friendly as a mountain lion.” K.C. turned to face the street as they waited to be let in.
“Take it easy.” Ellen glanced left to right then up. She tapped K.C.’s arm pointing up. “Smile, we’re on candid camera.”
“Junior sized fortress.”
The door opened. Someone new answered the door. “I’m Ms. Shaffer, Mr. Garner’s secretary. Please come in.”
They stepped into a house that harkened back to the days of the early twentieth century. K.C. quickly glanced around then noticed the old umbrella stand and folded umbrella. He tapped Ellen’s arm motioning to the umbrella. Ellen nodded but said nothing as they crossed the main room to a set of rooms with floor to ceiling windows overlooking a garden with varied colored flowers, flowering bushes and trees in bloom that hurt the eyes to look at.
The lady led them in to Garner’s home office a suit case and attaché set beside the desk.
Garner standing behind the desk looked aghast at the two bounty hunters behind the secretary. In his haste to leave he’d forgotten to tell the secretary she was not to admit any one. “What …?”
Ellen said, “Going somewhere, Garner?”
The young secretary realized she had made a mistake admitting the two. She quickly escaped to a side room crying.
“How?” Garner wanted to know. “No one would have suspected.”
“We have reason to believe Everett was actually poisoned one of two ways, something injected into his body without his knowing it, or injected in to something he’d eaten. Or both.”
“Like with an umbrella?” Garner realized he’d spoken out of turn. “Oh…”
“Gee your smart,” K.C. said sarcastically. “What other tricks do you have?”
Ellen slipped her right hand in to her jacket pocket feeling the butt of her Beretta nine millimeter.
“That’ll be quite enough, Mr. Taylor,” said a woman’s voice behind them. “We don’t need any interference in our affairs. The old fool deserved what he got.”
K.C. casually looked back to see the secretary from the office, Ms. Shelby with a nine millimeter pointed at them. He said drolly, “I hope you know how to use that thing?”
“Thank you, my love.” Garner opened the top drawer of his desk taking a nine millimeter out. “Now if you will Ms. Pascal …”
“No but I do,” a voice said as a hand reached over Ms. Shelby’s shoulder pulling the
pistol out of her hand. Garner looked shocked as police entered the room. “By the way, there’s a .357 pointed at yer back.”
Ellen pulled her hand from her pocket. “Like the man said, Garner put your hands up.”
“Gee, hone guess who? Hi Steve.”
Ellen and K.C. moved to either side of the desk, Ellen slipping the automatic back in her pocket. Steven Patrick with four policemen entered the room.
“Thanks, Ellen we have it under control from here,” Steven Patrick said as Garner dropped the pistol to the desk raising his hands. “Now put your hands on your head.”
K.C. watched as a policeman put the cuffs on Garner, a police woman cuffed Ms. Shelby another officer read them their Maranda Rights then led them from the room.
“How did you find us, Steve?” Ellen said watching the police lead Garner and Ms. Shelby from the room.
“We did our own skull drudgery on this problem, but you answered a question on one of the ways Everett was killed using the umbrella and donut. Garner is the only one to use a full size umbrella at the Wells Fargo Building and the office whether it’s raining or not. A couple people pointed out questions about the umbrella. We got an ex parta order to exhume Everett’s body with his widow’s permission and – well, the rest is history. By the way, Mrs. Everett thanks you for what you did the past couple days. We’d never have guessed it was an umbrella and the donut together.”
They walked out of the office, using a handkerchief Patrick pulled the umbrella from the umbrella stand.
“The evidence we need.” Patrick pointed out the trigger just below the handle.
“Besides pulling a pistol on us,” Ellen asked, “how does Ms. Shelby figure into all this?”
They stepped outside the house. The maid was sitting in one police car, the secretary in another answering questions. Steve twirled the umbrella around in his hand. “A question you never asked at Everett’s office – but were close.”
Ellen and K.C looked at each other puzzled.
“What did we miss?”
Patrick gave the umbrella to the forensic doctor. “The donuts, especially the egg Clairs. Either Wednesday or a Friday at just about every office in town is donut day. In this case Wednesday, the day Everett died was also donut day at his office.”
“No, don’t tell me,” Ellen gasped.
Patrick smiled as he walked around his familiar Blazer to the driver’s side. K.C. looked at all the antennas sprouting up on the roof and blue federal rotary light bar. Patrick opened the door leaning on the open window he pushed the black Stetson back.
“Yup, you forgot to ask about the donuts.”
“Yeah but …” K.C. started. “Donuts?”
“Fortunately Everett’s office was taped with crime scene tape and the janitors never had a chance to empty his trash. Somebody tossed the remains of the donut in the trash. To begin with that toxicology test produced the ammunition we should have had the first time. Now, Garner trying to evade the law – not smart.”
“And …”
“The administrator at the office remembers Ms. Shelby taking a donut to Everett – which was an egg Clair. That gave her the chance to inject the serum into the egg Clair.”
“And the rest as they say was history.”
“Yes, but if you hadn’t had that brain storming session at your house, I doubt we’d ever have broken this case in such a short time. Who would have dreamt of using a modified umbrella, but the FSB – or Garner?”
“Oops, we need to get going.” Ellen taped her watch. “Wesley will be home soon. Oh, by the way, Wesley says thank you for helping him with his homework.”
“Glad to help. David and I help our kids with theirs on occasion.”
They bid Patrick good bye as he got in his truck pulling out to follow the police back to town.

5.

K.C. pulled in the driveway of Ellen’s home just ahead of the bus rounding the corner.
The bus stopped at the curb, door opened and a screaming yelling hoard of kids ran off the bus. Wesley and Jennifer were the last to get off.
“Uh, oh. He doesn’t look too good.”
“Of course not. I bet it was a bad hair day at school. I got a funny feeling…”
Wesley stopped by Ellen and K.C. setting his back pack down. Jennifer stood to the side
to watch.
Ellen and K.C. watched as Wesley took out a note. “Here. From Ms. Bates.”
Wesley stood with his head down wanting to cry as Ellen opened the note thinking he’d be yelled at.

Dear Mr. Taylor and Ms. Pascal,
I appreciate your helping Wesley with his homework and the progress he has made in school is fantastic. However, in the future I would appreciate if you would refrain from letting half the Colorado Springs police, El Paso County deputies and private investigators from helping him with his homework. Thank you,
Laura Bates
Third Grade Teacher
Monroe Elementary

Ellen handed the note to K.C. reading it with a smile. “Another milestone.”
“Am I in trouble?” Wesley asked in a faint voice.
“No.” Ellen put an arm around his shoulders. “Jennifer, is your Mom home?”
“No, ma`am. Not yet.”
“Want some chocolate chip cookies and milk?” Ellen winked at K.C.
“Yes, ma`am!” they both cheered.
Wesley and Jennifer were all smiles. Crisis over.
“Come on over.”
“Chocolate chip cookies and milk cures all problems.” K.C. walked behind them toward the house crumbling up the note.
# # #
The Bounty Hunters
The Everett Case

Story #3 A case seems unsolvable until K.C and Ellen get a hold of it to find the alternatives to why a wealthy financier was murdered. And Wesley their ward has half of Colorado Springs and El Paso County police help him with his homework. His teacher is far from impressed.

1.

Morning for Ellen took on a whole new meaning as she gave Wesley his breakfast and getting him ready for school. Wesley was eating when K.C. walked in through the back door of Ellen’s house, a cup coffee in hand. He kissed Ellen than sat at the table.
For a brief moment they were a family as they finished breakfast. Wesley had been living with Ellen and K.C. for a month and settled into part of their morning routine. He was just getting over the shock of seeing his parents kill each other and an aunt.
The phone rang. Wesley looked up from his bowl of cereal. “Bet its Mr. Hampton.”
“Wouldn’t doubt it. It’s been too quiet the last couple days.” Ellen reached back to the counter for the cordless phone. Glancing at the caller ID she said, “Good guess, Wesley.” Pressing the speaker button she answered the phone, “Pascal and Taylor Investigators -- ”
“Miss Pascal, Mr. Hampton, need to see you and Mr. Taylor this morning when you have the chance.”
“Yes, sir we’ll be there -- ” Ellen looked at K.C. “Eight?”
K.C. nodded.
“Eight, sir.”
“No rush. I know you have Wesley to take care of first.”
K.C. finished his coffee as Ellen assured Wesley was ready for the bus. The sprite youngster easily made friends in the neighborhood and anxious to meet before the bus arrived. Wesley finished his cereal then ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Ellen assured his lunch was packed in his back pack checking the new school “brown bag” policy.
K.C. looked at the menu. “We never had this when I was going to school.”
“How long ago was that, hone?” Ellen said as she followed Wesley out the door to the bus stop. “And time to spare.”
Ellen joined the group of mothers at the bus stop each morning now to assure her charge got on the bus.
The District 20 school bus pulled up to the curb, the door opened and boys and girls began boarding.
Each morning Ellen knew what she was missing out of her life watching Wesley join his new friends at the stop. The giggling yelling children were safely on the bus.
A mother walked up to Ellen. “I really admire what you’re doing Miss Pascal and Mr.
Taylor, talking to other neighbors even with the work you do you have taken on the responsibility of helping Wesley.”
“Thank you. It was rough the first week,” said Ellen. “Fortunately the bodies were transferred here and Wesley was able to see his parents for the last time.”
K.C. and Ellen found themselves in the middle of a domestic quarrel that ended in a shootout in Alamosa, Colorado and both parents and an aunt were killed. The boy, Wesley was left an orphan, Ellen and K.C. took on the responsibility of caring for him while El Paso County attempted to find family or relations to adopt him.
K.C. walked out to the stop, coffee cup in hand waving to Wesley as the bus pulled away from the curb.
The mother said, “I was just telling Miss Pascal how I admire what you have done for
Wesley.”
“Thank you. He’s still adjusting to our arrangement and to new friends and the
neighborhood. He’s getting along.”
The group returned home, others leaving for work.
As they walked back to the house Ellen asked, “Did Mr. Hampton call back?”
“Yes. We must have missed something last night. A Carl Everett died a few days ago last night. His widow, despite the forensics’ report wants us to get involved. Something about the report apparently doesn’t add up to her.”
They reached the house. Ellen said, “Does she realize that can develop into a conflict of interest?”
K.C. opened the door letting Ellen step in. “I mentioned that to Mr. Hampton and he mentioned it too but she thinks there’s more to this than anybody seems to realize. On the flip side, I wasn’t all that impressed.”
Closing the door, he watched as Ellen started for the bedroom. “We best get ready dear it’s getting late.”
A short time later Ellen and K.C. exited from their respective houses. A few neighbors standing by their driveways watched as K.C. held the car door for Ellen, dressed in a beige business suit, K.C. had on his dark suit; the two left in the yellow Camaro. The neighbors knew from past experience the two were about to take another assignment.

2.

Mr. Hampton fingered the bowl of his gnarled brier pipe wishing he could smoke inside his office instead of out on the side walk. “Barbaric,” he would tell them.
“Mrs. Everett is adamant that you two take this case.” Mr. Hampton said sitting side ways at his desk. “Seems, and I am quoting Mrs. Everett on this, she has more faith in you two to solve this case then the police. To the police this is a write off.”
“You did explain to her this can run into a conflict of interest, sir?” K.C. asked Mr. Hampton again closing his note book.
Mr. Hampton nodded his head. “I did. And she is not impressed with what they, forensics or the coroner’s inquest which followed, did. She did not leave me much choice in this matter. Your first week’s expenses are covered.”
Ellen reached for the envelopes on the desk. She handed one to K.C. opening the other and gasped.
Mr. Hampton rubbed the bowl of his gnarled briar pipe. “Yes, Mrs. Everett does have a lot of confidence in you two. Don’t let her down.”
“In other words, ‘Don’t screw it up’.”
Mr. Hampton said in a droll tone, “That too.”
K.C. opened his envelope. Looking in at the check he could not help but shift a quick glance to Ellen, raising his brows in mild surprise. “Uh, yeah I’d say so.”
Walking out of the building on to North Tejon K.C. checked the time. “Let’s stop by the bank first to cash these checks then head up to Black Canyon Estates to see this old gal. More money than common sense.”
“What makes you think she’s old?”
“With that much money, she’s gotta be pushing her mid-fifties.”
“Some men do marry young women you know.” Ellen looked up at K.C. with a coy smile. “And on his death she inherits it all.”
K.C. looked down at Ellen with a knowing grin. “So my dear, do you want a new fur coat?”
Ellen bumped K.C. in the hips as they walked to the car. “Sorry, love I’m an animal rights activist. No.”
“Oh sorry. How about a new car?”
“I like what I got. The bank, James.”
A half hour later K.C. contacted Mrs. Everett as they were leaving the bank.
“Yes. I’ll be available for interview, Mr. Taylor. How soon?”
“Ten thirty be okay, about a half hour?”
“Certainly.”
K.C. signed off and slipped the cell phone back in the jacket pocket. “This better not be like the last one we walked in to with our eyes wide open.”
“I know but I’m inclined to believe there is more to this then just a simple stroke like the coroner says.”
“That’s our next stop after Mrs. Everett. Here’s the car.”

3.
K.C. stopped at the gate house as the guard called the house to assure Mrs. Everett was expecting them.
Ellen looked around as they waited for the guard. “Hmm, has any one ever tried to get in here without him knowing about it?”
“Yeah, two guys did one time. They were sorry they tried.”
The guard stepped out of the guard house. “Very well, Major. Have a good day.”
“Excuse me?”
From the guard house to the top of the hill was all up hill. K.C. pressed the accelerator the Camaro surged forward.
“Former Ranger with the Five-oh third. He left just about the time I took over. There are five of them plus three I believe SEALS employed here on four shifts. That’s why I question Mrs. Everett’s story to Mr. Hampton his dying at home.”
“A set up?”
“That or something else. I knew Carl Everett was a bit of an athletic type.”
They continued up the long winding road that reminded him of driving up Pikes Peak.
The house was located on a hillock near the top of the property.
“Mrs. Everett.”
They got out and climbed a set of stairs to the front.
Ellen looked around a moment as they waited for the door to open. “I bet no door-to-door salesmen call here.”
“If they can get past the guards. He’s not the only one on duty. There are four more in the hills but you’d be hard pressed to find them.”
The door opened. A very officious appearing woman answered at the door. “Yes?”
“Pascal and Taylor to see Mrs. Everett please.” Ellen snapped the credentials case closed.
“Oh yes. Please come in. Mrs. Everett is expecting you.”
K.C. and Ellen followed the lady through the airy house, its openness with high floor to
ceiling windows. They entered a room that over looked the mountains and a pine forest that seemed to go on forever. A blonde head could be seen above the back of the chair.
“Ms. Ellen Pascal and Mr. K.C. Taylor, of Pascal and Taylor Investigative Services, Mrs.
Everett.”
The chair swiveled around, the woman wearing clear rimmed glasses in her early thirties faced them. Mrs. Everett inclined her head to them:
“Thank you, Bernice. Please be seated, Miss Pascal and Mr. Taylor.” There was a pause as K.C. and Ellen seated themselves opposite Mrs. Everett. She fixed them with her piercing gaze for the space of a breath. “You come with high praise and impeccable credentials, Miss Pascal – Mr. Taylor. I spoke personally with Mr. Hampton and he had nothing but praise for both of you.”
Bernice took a chair to the side facing the three.
“Thank you, Mrs. Everett,” said Ellen. “May I please record this meeting for later reference?”
Mrs. Everett nodded her head in assent. “Yes. Most certainly.”
Ellen quickly set up the digital recorder and laptop. K.C. took the time to form the opening questions he would ask, most of which bordered on, who, what, where, and when.
Ellen nodded. K.C. started, “To begin, Mrs. Everett you indicated in the interview with Mr. Hampton that you suspect more to this than a stroke. Please elaborate.”
“Certainly. Carl was a very healthy athletic man. Loved sports and other activities. Despite his job he liked to keep active. As a matter of fact, the week prior to what happened was his annual medical physical at Penrose Hospital Sports Clinic. It showed his heart was strong, no problems. That is why I strongly question the forensics’ finding.”
“And his job, Mrs. Everett?” K.C. asked.
“Stocks, bonds and Finances.”
“Now this will be hard for you,” K.C. said. “This sort of business more than any other breeds contempt and enemies. Do you know if he had any?”
“Carl never to my knowledge mentioned any enemies. But then again if there were he never told me about them.”
“Where was his office, Mrs. Everett?” Ellen quickly cut across K.C.’s next question.
“Down town. Number 410 South Cascade, Suite 314.”
K.C. said “The Wells Fargo Building. Do you have any idea who his friends, business associates were?”
Ellen recorded the addresses on the laptop of those Mrs. Everett could remember. Bernice got Mrs. Everett’s address book from the desk.
“Some. He went into business with a Lester Garner. I never heard Carl mention Garner in vain. He thought very highly of him as he did all the others there.”
K.C. glanced back at Mrs. Everett. “Mrs. Everett, what makes or leads you to believe you suspect your husband was murdered?”
“Just a second ago I told you I did not know that Carl had any enemies. Partly true, partly wrong. He had a disagreement with a colleague two weeks prior I believe.”
K.C. glanced toward Ellen. Their eyes met. He conveyed, ‘We’re making progress.’
“Mrs. Everett, do you recall anything about this disagreement and who it was with?”
Mrs. Everett thought about the details that her husband related to her one evening. “Well I suppose, Mr. Taylor, the disagreement had to do with funds to be used on a special project they were working on at the time.”
Ellen spoke up, “Was the project impacted by your husband’s death?”
“No mention of the project?” K.C. asked.
“None.”
A short time later K.C. and Ellen said their good-byes and Bernice showed them to the door.
Ellen waited until they were down in Old Colorado City heading back east on Colorado
Avenue before she spoke.
“Where to, forensics?”
“Absolutely.”
Ellen was quiet seeing K.C. was thinking. The past couple years the two sometimes acted as one. Ellen had the impression this was going to be one of those times.
“Looking for a toxicology test?”
“This case has the ear marks of something not being right. In other words, Carl Everett had to have been killed, if you will with a substance that was slow acting so he’d die at home and it had to be someone who was aware of his daily routine. Plus, the means to employ the drug or narcotic. Being shot is not the answer.”
K.C. was quiet again as he threaded his way through the downtown traffic south to East Las Vegas Avenue and south to the Corrections complex. K.C. found himself behind a slow moving transit-mix truck on East Las Vegas.
“Finally. Here we are.”
“So we don’t have the body, so we’ll have to rely on circumstantial evidence.”
“Well that’s always encouraging.”
K.C. pulled into the driveway that leads to the forensics and county coroner side of the Corrections complex. Parking, K.C. got out to help Ellen out of the car. They walked into the building to the reception desk.
Ellen stepped up to the counter the clerk looking up at them. Producing her credentials case Ellen said, “Ellen Pascal of Pascal and Taylor Investigative Services. We’d like to talk to Doctor Walker if we may.”
“I’ll see if he’s busy. And what is this in reference to?”
“The Everett Case.”
The lady’s head jerked up at the mention of Everett. “I’ll let him know.”
They only had a few seconds to wait until Walker stepped out of his office.
“K.C. and Ellen. Come in.”
They stepped behind the counter and to Doctor Walker’s office.
“So, this is a rare pleasure. What can I do for you two?”
He gestured to two chairs by his desk.
“Everett Case, Frank. Was there a toxicology test done on Carl Everett?”
“Suspect something?” Walker said looking from one to the other sitting down.
“Yes. Nothing is adding up,” said K.C. folding his hands across his chest. “Mrs. Everett hired us to look into her husband’s death or cause of death. She apparently suspects there is more to this then there is being let onto.”
“We did all the usual tests and examinations there were to do. I don’t think a toxicology test was done. No reason to suspect anything of the sort.”
“Okay, let’s suppose for sake of argument, there was a chemical somehow introduced
into the body to cause the symptoms of a heart attack – or stroke. What would somebody use?”
“A barbiturate,” he replied. “Simplest substance to get ahold of on the black market.”
“That would be in a liquid form also?”
“It can be. It’s also known as fentanyl given in an IV form – or in some cases syringe.”
K.C. thought a minute. “Are there photographs of the body?”
Ellen glanced at K.C. with a look of disgust.
“Yes.” Walker pulled an envelope of photos from a file drawer marked ‘Everett, Carl’ and case number and evidence number laying them on the desk.
K.C. pulled them out looking for a particular photo. Handing them to Ellen, she glanced at them then passed them back. “That’s okay dear, I’ll just take your word for it.”
“Ah! This is it. Got a magnifying glass?”
Ellen looked at the photo of a foot from the calf down. “What are you looking for?”
“Alternate methods to introduce the drug into the body.”
Walker swung the desk light with a magnifying glass around to K.C. “What did you find?”
“How well did you look at these photos – or body?”
“Under the circumstances, well enough.”
“Take a look.” He held the picture under the magnifying glass which enlarged the picture to three times its size. “That spot? He was hit with a less then B-B size pellet in the ankle.”
Ellen and Walker crowded around the glass to look at the pin head sized blood clot near the left ankle bone.
“How?” Walker said looking up at K.C. with concern.
Ellen looked from the forensics doctor to K.C.
“Easy. An old trick from the Russian KGB or FSB. Of course it was only used once that I know of. Everyone caught onto the idea. They were worried it’d be used against them instead. The tip of an umbrella is spring loaded, the pellet inserted in a firing chamber. The release or trigger is in the handle. Point the tip at a victim’s ankle – and well the rest is easy to see what happens.”
“And the other way?” Ellen asked sitting down looking up at K.C.
K.C. laid the picture down swinging the lamp back over the desk. “Syringe. Injected into a donut maybe?”
Walker looked across the desk at K.C. “You’re in the wrong business, K.C. You need to be doing this and I need to open a flower shop on Academy Boulevard.”

4.

K.C. followed East Las Vegas Avenue back to town and the main police headquarters on Rio Grande Avenue.
“What’s next?” Ellen asked looking at the time
“The police report. That’ll take about three days before we get it. But I want it for the record. And if Mrs. Everett wants to drop the hammer on somebody, she’ll have it as ammunition so-to-speak.”
The police station didn’t take more than fifteen minutes and they were headed to a Village Inn for lunch then headed home, the two were silent on the drive home.
K.C. paced around Ellen’s house with the list of names.
“You know, I have half a mind to call a brain storming session on this.”
Ellen walked out of her room pulling on a T-shirt. “What do you think that will do?”
“First off inject some fresh ideas into this plus learn if anyone knows of a different idea to introduce the serum into Everett then what I came up with.”
K.C. spent the rest of the afternoon rounding up people he knew either PI’s, police, deputies, or detectives they knew to help with the case.
Three thirty the front door banged opened. “Miss Ellen, I’m home!”
“In the kitchen, Wesley.”
“Hello, Miss Ellen.”
Ellen looked down at the girl, a miniature version of her mother. Jennifer Wooten,
Wesley’s friend from next door followed Wesley into the kitchen.
The two kids sat at the kitchen table as Ellen served them cookies and milk.
K.C. walked in from the den the list in hand. “Okay I have twelve off this list that’ll be here. Steven Patrick especially is familiar with this case and agrees with me …”
“Hello Mr. K.C.”
“I didn’t see you. You sneak in?”
The girl giggled. “No sir. I came in with Wesley.”
“What time are you going to do this …” Ellen wagged her fingers in the air. “Brain storm session, K.C.?”
“Brain storm?” the two kids repeated.
K.C. said, “Everybody puts out ideas, there’s no such thing as right or wrong until you narrow the selection down two best – or in some cases the worse. Then you discuss those until you finally arrive at the one solution for getting the job done.”
“Oh that’s like what we do in school.”
“Um, yeah.” K.C. met Ellen’s annoyed look.
“You two finish up and get on with your homework. And Jennie, your Mom will be home soon.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Promptly at 7 p.m. police, deputies, PI’s and detectives were showing up.
Steven Patrick and David Phlegm, Steve’s cousin walked out to the kitchen to get sodas. Wesley was at the kitchen table still struggling with his homework.
Steve looked at the paper. “Having problems, Wesley?”
“Yes sir. This is hard.”
David glanced at the questions. “Who thought of these questions?”
“Miss Bates.”
“As in …?”
“His teacher.” Steve read the question then put the answer down. “Hope that helps?”
Before they started nearly every Policeman, Deputy, PI and Detective helped Wesley with his homework. The meeting was about to begin, Wesley gathered up his books and went to his room feeling lucky he had the Police do his homework that night.
K.C. setup an easel in the living room.
“Okay this is what Ellen and I have so far. Everett succumbed to a heart attack. Widow doesn’t buy the Forensics’ prognosis. She is of the opinion something else happened.”

Morning dawned bright and sunny. Ellen walked out to the school bus stop, other mothers and fathers meeting each other. K.C. wandered out a few minutes later, cup of coffee in hand. Jennifer Wooten’s parents were standing with her when Wesley walked up to the curb.
“`Morning, Jennie.”
“Good morning, Wesley. How did you do on the home work?” She asked innocently.
Ellen and K.C. were talking with Jennie’s parents, their neighbors hearing Jennie and Wesley talking. Wesley pulled the sheets of paper from his back pack.
“Okay. Those would have been tough but I had help.”
“Oh?”
Ellen looked down at Wesley. “What kind of help, Wesley?”
The two kids plus a couple others looked up as she glanced down at Wesley.
Wesley said quietly so Ellen had to strain to hear him above the noise. “A few um, friends you might say.”
“Oh?”
Connie Wooten, Jennie’s mother said softly, “Oops.”
Pointing at Wesley Ellen said to K.C., “You aware of the quote – unquote help he had on
his homework?”
“Oh? Who?”
“Half the police and deputies of El Paso County.”
“Um, no.”
At that moment the school bus turned onto the street. Ellen pointed down at Wesley with a frown. K.C. looked down at Wesley as the kids jockeyed for position to board the bus. “I thought he did his homework himself.”
“Did with some help it seems. Expect a letter from his teacher.”
The two returned to the house for an interview with Everett’s company. Pouring himself another cup of coffee K.C. his ears still burning from Ellen’s ire. He checked the time then called Mrs. Everett. Ellen stepped into the office with a cup of coffee sitting across from K.C. he punched the speaker phone button.
The phone was answered on the second ring. “Everett Estate.”
“K.C. with Pascal and Taylor Investigative Services, Mrs. Everett please.”

Wesley’s class quickly filed into the room taking their seats. The teacher, Ms. Bates gave them a few minutes before she began with the announcements and opening remarks.
“Last night’s homework I realized seemed a bit hard to some of you. When you enter the next grade next year it will get progressively harder. I did not expect perfect scores. Effort is what counts on this. Hand in your papers starting from the back forward and we’ll go over the work.”
Ms. Bates noticed Wesley appeared as if he was ready to jump out of his “skin” any minute.
Jennie seated across from Wesley looked over at him. He was sweating as the papers were passed to the front of the class room. She whispered, “Ms. Bates will see it for sure.”
The kids were strangely quiet some aware of Wesley’s ruse.
Ms. Gregg the assistant teacher walked along the first row picking up the papers as Ms. Bates wrote down the first question on the white board.
Ms. Gregg went through the papers to assure she had them all. She stopped at Wesley’s
paper frowning looking at Wesley. Stepping up behind Ms. Bates, she said in a soft voice, “Laura, look at this paper.”
Turning, Ms. Bates took the papers from Ms. Gregg. Looking at the paper she could not help but see twelve different forms of adult handwriting. As casually as she could, Ms. Bates looked at Wesley.
“Wesley, did you do the home work last night?”
“Uh, yes ma’am.” Wesley knew what Ms. Bates next question would be. The other kids in the class knew without a doubt Ms. Bates was not happy with Wesley.
“Did you have help with the work?”
Ms. Bates and her assistant gazed at Wesley with dark looks the other students knew without a doubt spelled doom for Wesley.
“Some ma’am.”
“Some. How many is ‘some’, Wesley?”
Jennifer knew she’d seen the police and sheriff’s cars, other cars and trucks in front of both houses.
Wesley cleared his throat as best he could through chocked words said, “Twelve, ma’am. Ms. Ellen and Mr. K.C. had a meeting with the police last night to help on a case.”
“Twelve …?”
Jennifer quickly spoke up, “Police, deputies, detectives…”
A couple kids in the class snickered.
“Thank you Jennifer. The rest of you be quiet. See me after class Wesley.”
Ms. Gregg said, “I drove by there last night. So that’s why all those police cars were at their house last night.”
5.
K.C. and Ellen stepped off the elevator and walked the short distance to Suite 314 walking in to the reception area a young woman looked up from her computer.
“May I help you?” she asked then stopped when K.C. and Ellen produced their credential cases.
“Ellen Pascale of Pascal and Taylor Investigative Services, we’d like to speak to
Mr. Thomas Garner if you will?”
The lady buzzed the office. “K.C. Taylor and Ms. Pascal, of Pascal and Taylor Investigative Services, sir.”
Garner was at his door in an instant not aware Mrs. Everett had hired private detectives. “Um, yes? How can I help you?”
“Yes sir, Mr. Garner, Thomas Garner?” K.C. held his hand out to Mr. Garner. K.C. introduced himself and Ellen. Garner’s face drained of all color, which was not lost on either. “We’d like to get some details on the Everett Case if you will.”
“Um, yes please, my office.”
Ellen saw Everett’s office was still taped off and the chain of custody forms still stuck to the closed door. She noticed it appeared as though the custodian had not been in the office in the last couple days. She nudged K.C. a partially eaten donut lay on top of other trash.
“Yes, I am quite familiar with the two. Please, Mr. Taylor, Ms. Pascal have a seat. How may I help you?” He nodded to the administrator. “So, um, how can I help you?”
“Some questions, sir,” K.C. began sitting down. “First may Ms. Pascal record this meeting for the record for future reference on our part?”
He waved his hand at Ellen, “You may.”
K.C. began. “The Everett Case, sir how well did you know Mr. Everett?”
“Oh, yes, the Everett Case. Such a shame. Fine man. I knew Carl quite well. We were business partners – we go back several years – college. We set up a business venture here in the `Springs, maybe twenty or more years ago.”
Ellen quickly cut in, “Did you ever have disagreements over anything?”
“Oh, heavens yes. Business partners always do. Nothing serious. Why do you ask?”
“The relationship. To set the record straight on Carl Everett’s death,” said K.C. leaning on the arm of the chair staring Garner in the eye. “How do you suppose he died?”
Garner stared off toward the window at his back. He turned to look at K.C. “Interesting question. Well I suppose as the forensics doctor said, heart attack. You know the late fifties strokes or heart attacks are more prevalent in older people.”
“Was he the athletic type?”
“Yes. I know for a fact he ran at least two to three miles nearly every day.”
“Being a financial business, did you ever suffer a financial set back?”
“Oh, gosh yes. The financial crash of oh-four. A couple accounts tanked on us. It caused all kind of problems for us.”
K.C. and Ellen traded questioning looks.
Ellen said, “Just one more question, Mr. Garner how did you view Mr. Everett as a financial partner?”
That was a question Garner did not see coming. He replied after a minute’s time which K.C. and Ellen noticed he pondered on how to answer the answer and not to give himself away.
“Well, he was good. I mean that’s a job you have to really be on top of your profession when dealing with other people’s money. And he was good – almost as good as me even.”
“Yes, well I believe that’s is all sir, thank you.”
Garner’s answers did not satisfy K.C. or Ellen’s inquisitiveness. As they started to leave Garner’s office, K.C. stopped to point to Everett’s office.
“By the way, Mr. Garner, I see the police tape and chain of custody forms are still in place. I thought the police would have the tape and forms taken down by now?”
Garner stood in his office door. Shrugging he said, “I don’t know. One of the detectives said to leave it for now. So we left it.”
“Who has the keys to Everett’s old office?” K.C. looked back at Garner.
“Mm, the Building Manager, the Facilities people, and the police. Why?”
“Just wondering since the case is still open.” K.C. glanced at Ellen.
They stepped out to the hall way and the third floor lobby and landing.
Ellen said, “I smell smoke.”
“Steve Patrick is the fire.” K.C. took out his cell phone held it up to assure he had a good signal. Speed dialing Patrick’s cell phone it rang twice then was answered, he said, “Steve? K.C….”
“Yeah, K.C.?”
“Where you at right now?”
“Um, Willamette and Weber. Got something?”
“Good. Need ya to have Suite 314 the Wells Fargo building on Cascade Avenue opened. Who has the key to Everett’s old office?”
“Me. I got stuck holding on to it. You need me there?”
“Yes. There may be evidence in the waste basket in the office the police missed a few days ago.”
“Be there!”

The solid blue federal bar on Patrick’s truck was turned on and siren sounded its morbant wail. Traffic at the intersection came to a sudden halt as the bronze and white K5 Blazer shot across the intersection, the overhead light bar flashing its angry blue warning.
K.C. leaned carelessly against the stainless steel stairwell railing watching the elevators in front of him. People coming and going looked at them wondered what or who the pair were waiting for.
K.C. heard the siren before he saw the truck. He looked over his shoulder out the windows to Cascade Avenue as the K5 Blazer pulled up into the No Parking Zone in front of the Wells Fargo Building. Patrick thrust the door open leaving the blue rotary’s and flashers on.
“He’s her – eee!” K.C. said watching Patrick running up the steps to the front doors.
Ellen looked at her watch. “Five minutes flat. That’s doing pretty good in down town traffic.”
K.C. laughed. “Why do you think Steve has that stand-off eighteen inch front-end on his truck—sure ain’t for good looks.”
A couple minutes later Patrick appeared at the head of the steps key in hand. He took the lead, K.C. and Ellen trailing. Patrick walked back in to the Suite, Garner nearly dropped the papers he was handing the administrator as the three walked into the Suite; Patrick went to the taped off office. He filled out the custody forms, K.C. witness, Patrick opened the office stepping past the tape. Patrick pulled a clear plastic bag from his pocket and plastic gloves from his jacket to place the whole waste basket in. Sealing it he stepped out of the office to lock and put the police seals back in place.
Garner and Natalie Shelby watched speechlessly as the waste basket was taken from the office.
Wordlessly the three left the office.
Garner looked across the administrator who watched puzzled, asked Ms. Shelby, “Do you think they suspect?”
“Of course, don’t you know who that was with the two bounty hunters?” she barked.
Garner shook his head.
“Patrick! He’s as good as they are!” She threw the papers on to the desk and went back to her office.
Garner put a hand over his eyes in worry.

6.

The three watched as the forensics doctor carefully, using a scalpel to cut the donut in to bite size pieces. He submitted each piece to a dye test. The narcotic immediately showed up.
“There ya go guys.”
“Let’s make sure he’s at the office,” Ellen suggested.
To belay their suspicions Dr. Walker called the office first. Ellen showed him the phone number. The administrator answered.
“No Doctor, Mr. Garner has gone home for the day. Said he has a sudden headache from all the stress.”
“Thank you, ma`am.” He cut the connection. “Gone home.”
Patrick said turning to the door. “Good I’ll get the arrest warrant for Garner and search warrant if we need one.”
“Good, we’ll keep the old boy busy. Better have one for the office again and the house. Just in case the boy is planning to blow town in a hurry.”

Pulling up to the huse, Ellen looked at the address on the file card. “That’s it.”
“Nice neighborhood,” K.C. remarked parking the car. “Smell the money?”
Ellen and K.C. got out of the car and walked up the long walk to the door. K.C. looked over the upscale neighborhood of South Woods Park as Ellen pressed the doorbell she noticed nothing less than a Mercedes or Jaguar graced several driveways. Old spreading Maples and Red Oakes shaded the lawns and homes from the coming summer heat.
The door opened, a maid looked out. “May I help you?”
K.C. said, “Mr. Garner, please. K.C. of Pascal and Taylor Investigative Services.”
“One moment, please.” The door closed.
“About as friendly as a mountain lion.” K.C. turned to face the street as they waited to be let in.
“Take it easy.” Ellen glanced left to right then up. She tapped K.C.’s arm pointing up. “Smile, we’re on candid camera.”
“Junior sized fortress.”
The door opened. Someone new answered the door. “I’m Ms. Shaffer, Mr. Garner’s secretary. Please come in.”
They stepped into a house that harkened back to the days of the early twentieth century. K.C. quickly glanced around then noticed the old umbrella stand and folded umbrella. He tapped Ellen’s arm motioning to the umbrella. Ellen nodded but said nothing as they crossed the main room to a set of rooms with floor to ceiling windows overlooking a garden with varied colored flowers, flowering bushes and trees in bloom that hurt the eyes to look at.
The lady led them in to Garner’s home office a suit case and attaché set beside the desk.
Garner standing behind the desk looked aghast at the two bounty hunters behind the secretary. In his haste to leave he’d forgotten to tell the secretary she was not to admit any one. “What …?”
Ellen said, “Going somewhere, Garner?”
The young secretary realized she had made a mistake admitting the two. She quickly escaped to a side room crying.
“How?” Garner wanted to know. “No one would have suspected.”
“We have reason to believe Everett was actually poisoned one of two ways, something injected into his body without his knowing it, or injected in to something he’d eaten. Or both.”
“Like with an umbrella?” Garner realized he’d spoken out of turn. “Oh…”
“Gee your smart,” K.C. said sarcastically. “What other tricks do you have?”
Ellen slipped her right hand in to her jacket pocket feeling the butt of her Beretta nine millimeter.
“That’ll be quite enough, Mr. Taylor,” said a woman’s voice behind them. “We don’t need any interference in our affairs. The old fool deserved what he got.”
K.C. casually looked back to see the secretary from the office, Ms. Shelby with a nine millimeter pointed at them. He said drolly, “I hope you know how to use that thing?”
“Thank you, my love.” Garner opened the top drawer of his desk taking a nine millimeter out. “Now if you will Ms. Pascal …”
“No but I do,” a voice said as a hand reached over Ms. Shelby’s shoulder pulling the
pistol out of her hand. Garner looked shocked as police entered the room. “By the way, there’s a .357 pointed at yer back.”
Ellen pulled her hand from her pocket. “Like the man said, Garner put your hands up.”
“Gee, hone guess who? Hi Steve.”
Ellen and K.C. moved to either side of the desk, Ellen slipping the automatic back in her pocket. Steven Patrick with four policemen entered the room.
“Thanks, Ellen we have it under control from here,” Steven Patrick said as Garner dropped the pistol to the desk raising his hands. “Now put your hands on your head.”
K.C. watched as a policeman put the cuffs on Garner, a police woman cuffed Ms. Shelby another officer read them their Maranda Rights then led them from the room.
“How did you find us, Steve?” Ellen said watching the police lead Garner and Ms. Shelby from the room.
“We did our own skull drudgery on this problem, but you answered a question on one of the ways Everett was killed using the umbrella and donut. Garner is the only one to use a full size umbrella at the Wells Fargo Building and the office whether it’s raining or not. A couple people pointed out questions about the umbrella. We got an ex parta order to exhume Everett’s body with his widow’s permission and – well, the rest is history. By the way, Mrs. Everett thanks you for what you did the past couple days. We’d never have guessed it was an umbrella and the donut together.”
They walked out of the office, using a handkerchief Patrick pulled the umbrella from the umbrella stand.
“The evidence we need.” Patrick pointed out the trigger just below the handle.
“Besides pulling a pistol on us,” Ellen asked, “how does Ms. Shelby figure into all this?”
They stepped outside the house. The maid was sitting in one police car, the secretary in another answering questions. Steve twirled the umbrella around in his hand. “A question you never asked at Everett’s office – but were close.”
Ellen and K.C looked at each other puzzled.
“What did we miss?”
Patrick gave the umbrella to the forensic doctor. “The donuts, especially the egg Clairs. Either Wednesday or a Friday at just about every office in town is donut day. In this case Wednesday, the day Everett died was also donut day at his office.”
“No, don’t tell me,” Ellen gasped.
Patrick smiled as he walked around his familiar Blazer to the driver’s side. K.C. looked at all the antennas sprouting up on the roof and blue federal rotary light bar. Patrick opened the door leaning on the open window he pushed the black Stetson back.
“Yup, you forgot to ask about the donuts.”
“Yeah but …” K.C. started. “Donuts?”
“Fortunately Everett’s office was taped with crime scene tape and the janitors never had a chance to empty his trash. Somebody tossed the remains of the donut in the trash. To begin with that toxicology test produced the ammunition we should have had the first time. Now, Garner trying to evade the law – not smart.”
“And …”
“The administrator at the office remembers Ms. Shelby taking a donut to Everett – which was an egg Clair. That gave her the chance to inject the serum into the egg Clair.”
“And the rest as they say was history.”
“Yes, but if you hadn’t had that brain storming session at your house, I doubt we’d ever have broken this case in such a short time. Who would have dreamt of using a modified umbrella, but the FSB – or Garner?”
“Oops, we need to get going.” Ellen taped her watch. “Wesley will be home soon. Oh, by the way, Wesley says thank you for helping him with his homework.”
“Glad to help. David and I help our kids with theirs on occasion.”
They bid Patrick good bye as he got in his truck pulling out to follow the police back to town.

5.

K.C. pulled in the driveway of Ellen’s home just ahead of the bus rounding the corner.
The bus stopped at the curb, door opened and a screaming yelling hoard of kids ran off the bus. Wesley and Jennifer were the last to get off.
“Uh, oh. He doesn’t look too good.”
“Of course not. I bet it was a bad hair day at school. I got a funny feeling…”
Wesley stopped by Ellen and K.C. setting his back pack down. Jennifer stood to the side
to watch.
Ellen and K.C. watched as Wesley took out a note. “Here. From Ms. Bates.”
Wesley stood with his head down wanting to cry as Ellen opened the note thinking he’d be yelled at.

Dear Mr. Taylor and Ms. Pascal,
I appreciate your helping Wesley with his homework and the progress he has made in school is fantastic. However, in the future I would appreciate if you would refrain from letting half the Colorado Springs police, El Paso County deputies and private investigators from helping him with his homework. Thank you,
Laura Bates
Third Grade Teacher
Monroe Elementary

Ellen handed the note to K.C. reading it with a smile. “Another milestone.”
“Am I in trouble?” Wesley asked in a faint voice.
“No.” Ellen put an arm around his shoulders. “Jennifer, is your Mom home?”
“No, ma`am. Not yet.”
“Want some chocolate chip cookies and milk?” Ellen winked at K.C.
“Yes, ma`am!” they both cheered.
Wesley and Jennifer were all smiles. Crisis over.
“Come on over.”
“Chocolate chip cookies and milk cures all problems.” K.C. walked behind them toward the house crumbling up the note.
# # #