Page 3 of Mile High Mystery

Zach sat in the gray-walled interview room at the sheriff’s department, gaze fixed on the unopened bottle of water in front of him, but all he saw was Camille. Not the pale, dead woman who had lain on that litter, but Camille as she had been in life—smiling, quick-witted, so smart it took his breath away. Losing her had been the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Was it true that she had been alive all this time and he hadn’t known it? That she had died again so close to him and he hadn’t been aware that she was here?

The door to the interview room opened, and Sheriff Walker and his brother, Sergeant Gage Walker, entered. “How are you holding up?” Gage asked. A little taller than his brother, the more outgoing of the two, Gage rested a comforting hand on Zach’s shoulder. “Do you want some coffee or something?”

Zach shook his head. “No thanks.” He looked to Travis. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Travis slid out a chair across from Zach and sat, while Gage leaned against the wall behind him. “Maybe you can help us fill in some gaps,” the sheriff said. “You say your sister’s name was Camille?”

“That’s right. Camille Louise Gregory.”

“How old was she?” Travis asked.

“She was two years older than me,” Zach said. “She was twenty-six when we buried her.”

“The driver’s license we found says this woman was thirty,” Travis said.

“That’s how old Camille would have been now.” Zach massaged his forehead, trying to subdue the pain pounding there. “I don’t understand any of this. What was she doing at that campground? And you said she was in a van?”

“The driver’s license in her purse identified her as Claire Watson,” Travis said. “Does that name mean anything to you?”

“No. I’ve never heard it before.”

“You said you last saw your sister four years ago. At her funeral. So you saw her actual body?”

“No. It was a closed casket. The officers...” He swallowed past the knot in his throat. “The officers who found her body, and the funeral home people, said it would be better that way. But they were sure it was Camille. And my parents identified the body.”

“How did your sister die?” Gage asked.

“She was murdered.”

The brothers exchanged a look he couldn’t decipher. “Who murdered her?” Travis asked.

Zach took a deep breath, though it was hard, as if someone sat on his chest. “The case is officially unsolved, but she was probably killed by one of the Chalk brothers or someone they hired.” At the sheriff’s puzzled look, he added, “They’re a family in Houston, where we’re from. Wealthy businessmen, but they’re crooks. You can check with the FBI. They have a file on the Chalk family.”

“Why would they kill your sister?” Gage asked.

“She had agreed to testify against them. Two of the brothers—Charlie and Christopher—were charged in the murder of a district court judge. Camille was there that night, at the restaurant where it happened. She testified about what she saw, but the brothers were acquitted.” He shook his head. That whole ordeal had been a blur, and time hadn’t clarified his memory.

“And you think the Chalk brothers were responsible for your sister’s death?”

“That’s what the FBI told us they suspected, though there was no evidence they could use to convict the brothers of the crime. They said she was gunned down leaving work—another restaurant job. My parents went to identify the body, and we had the funeral—so how did she turn up here, in Colorado, four years later?”

“You’re sure this woman is your sister?” Travis asked. “You couldn’t have made a mistake?”

“Camille had a tattoo like that—the butterfly with the name Laney. What are the odds that another woman would have that same tattoo in the same location?”

“Who was Laney?” Gage asked.

“Our sister. Camille’s twin. She died when the girls were eleven. Meningitis.”

Both brothers were still looking at him like they didn’t believe him. “Check with the FBI,” Zach said. “I’m sure every bit of this is in Camille’s file.”

“Does the name Carla Drinkwater mean anything to you?” Travis asked.

“No. Who is she?”

“The van this woman was driving was rented under the name Carla Drinkwater. She had a second driver’s license in that name.”

He felt dizzy again, like he was falling. He grabbed the bottle of water, twisted off the lid and drank. When he set the bottle down again, his head was a little clearer. “How did she die?” he asked. “I heard something about a tree falling on the van.”

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