Page 5 of Mile High Mystery

“No. And I know she missed you all. She talked about you sometimes.” She especially talked about Zach. How she worried her death would send her little brother off course. Camille had blamed herself for putting him in danger, though Shelby had tried to convince her this wasn’t the case.

“So what happened?” Zach asked. “Why is she dead now? And why was she even here? Why was she camping?”

“Maybe she thought camping was a good way to hide out. I think she was trying to reach you,” Shelby said. “I think she wanted to tell you something. Or warn you about something.”

“Warn me about what?”

“I don’t know. But looking back on conversations we had before she disappeared, I think she believed the Chalk brothers had learned something that put you in danger. She wanted to warn you to be careful.”

“So the Chalk brothers killed her?”

“Probably someone who worked for them, but yes, that’s what we believe.”

“But you don’t have proof.” He shook his head. “There’s never any proof. Or enough proof. My sister put her life on the line. She sat in that courtroom and told them everything she saw that night at the restaurant. She saw that judge die, and the Chalk brothers were the only ones there, but it wasn’t enough to put them behind bars.”

“She didn’t see the shots fired,” Shelby said.

“She heard them!” he protested.

“She couldn’t swear there wasn’t anyone else there that night. The defense team took advantage of that.”

“You know they killed that judge.”

She nodded. “Yes. We believe they lured the judge to the restaurant that night. Possibly they offered him money. Instead, they killed him. But knowing isn’t enough. We have to have proof.”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands. He wore jeans and a blue plaid flannel shirt open over a gray T-shirt. The muscles of his back and arms strained the shirt. He looked like a mountain man. Someone strong and capable, not the baby brother Camille had worried about so much. Shelby waited, giving him time. The house was so silent, not even traffic noises coming from outside.

At last, he raised his head. His eyes were red rimmed, but he looked less angry now. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “Doesn’t the US Marshals Service handle witness protection? Or witness security—whatever you call it? Why is the FBI involved?”

“The US Marshals Service is in charge of witness security,” she said. “But the FBI is still actively investigating the Chalk brothers. And we will investigate your sister’s murder.”

“So you drew the short straw and had to talk to me?”

“I volunteered for that.” She leaned forward a little more. “Camille was my friend. I know how much you meant to her. Talking to you was something I could do for her.”

The grief that flashed across his face was so raw her own eyes stung with tears. He looked away, the skin along his jaw white as he clenched his teeth, his throat convulsing as he swallowed.

She stood and retrieved the glass of water and handed it to him. He took it and drank, then froze and stared at her. “What about my parents? Did you send someone to talk to them, too?” He stood. “I should be there with them. I was waiting until we knew more about what had happened before I talked to them.”

“I was planning on talking to them after I visited with you,” she said. “We can go together.”

He didn’t sit back down but rubbed a hand over his face. “Are they safe? Will whoever killed Camille go after them next?”

He wasn’t worried about his own safety, only his parents’. That fit with everything Camille had told her. “Junction Police have been alerted to keep an eye on them, but we don’t believe they’re in any danger.” Zach might be a different story, if Camille’s suspicions were true. “Sit down and talk to me,” Shelby said. “I have some questions I need to ask you, then we’ll visit your parents.”

He sat, perched on the edge of the sofa, as if prepared to spring up again at any second. “What about my questions? Are you going to tell me what really happened?”

“I’ll tell you as much as I can.”

He didn’t look happy with that answer but pushed on. “You say she disappeared? What do you mean? Was she, like, monitored or something?”

“She had a team with the Marshals Service who kept an eye on her. Not exactly bodyguards, but they watched for anything unusual that might pose a threat, and we—the FBI and the Marshals—tried to stay alert to any developments with the Chalk brothers that might indicate they had located her. And she and I talked every few days.”

“Because you were her friend?”

“Yes. And because I’m still involved in the case. She would share anything she remembered about the Chalk brothers in general and that night at the restaurant in particular.”

He stilled, as if suddenly transformed into a statue. “Zach?” she asked.

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