Dream Eyes

you?”
    “You heard her last night. She blames me for Taylor’s death.”
    “If she was the shooter, all I can tell you now is that she wasn’t trying to kill you. I need more information.”
    Gwen smiled. “I know what you mean. It’s called context.”

Fourteen
    H unter.” Oxley studied the scarred metal where the rifle shot had punched through the doorjamb. “Every year we get a lot of city folks up here. Most of ’em can’t hit the broad side of a barn. They get excited and shoot at anything that moves.”
    “I can see you’re not impressed,” Judson said.
    Gwen was initially surprised that Oxley had not kept them waiting long. His arrival at the lodge so soon after Judson made the 911 call indicated that he had been poised to spring into action if he got word that she was present at yet another crime scene. It was almost as if he had been expecting to hear more bad news, she thought. It was depressing to be the Wilby version of Typhoid Mary.
    Light glinted on Oxley’s dark glasses when he turned his head to look at Judson. “This kind of thing happens every season. Just glad no one was hurt.”
    “Gosh, so are we,” Gwen said.
    Oxley’s heavy jaw hardened. “You think someone deliberately took a shot at you?”
    “That possibility crossed my mind, yes.”
    “Now, why would anyone want to do that?” Oxley asked very softly.
    “I don’t know,” Gwen said. “It occurred to me that getting the answer to that question was your job.”
    Oxley contemplated her for a long moment, his eyes unreadable behind the shades. “It’s no secret that you made an enemy here a couple of years ago.”
    “You’re talking about Nicole Hudson, aren’t you?” Gwen said.
    “Between you and me, Nicole is not real stable.”
    “I’ve heard that,” Gwen said.
    Oxley grunted. “I happen to know for a fact that she’s still got her dad’s old hunting rifle.”
    “Wonderful,” Gwen said. “An unstable woman in possession of a weapon. What are the odds she might decide to use it?”
    Oxley rubbed the back of his thick neck. “I’ll have a talk with her.”
    “We don’t think this was a hunting accident,” Judson said quietly. “We wanted to report the incident in case the situation escalates.”
    “Escalates?” Oxley repeated in ominous tones. “Like it escalated two years ago?”
    “Yes,” Judson said.
    “Who are you, Coppersmith, and what’s your connection to Miss Frazier, here?”
    “I’m a friend,” Judson said. “I’m helping Gwen deal with Evelyn Ballinger’s affairs.”
    “Friend, huh? Way I hear it, you and Miss Frazier are more than just friends, but that’s your business,” Oxley said. “I’d advise you to be real careful, though. Friends of Gwen Frazier have a bad habit of dying here in Wilby.” He squared his cap on his head and stalked back toward the patrol car. “Call me if there are any more incidents.”
    “You bet,” Gwen said. “Good to know you’re there to serve and protect, chief.”
    Oxley paused before stuffing himself behind the wheel. “You want to see this situation de-escalate? Leave town. Got a hunch things will go right back to normal around here once you’re gone. Just like they did last time.”

Fifteen
    Y ou found one of the Phoenix geodes?” Elias roared into the phone. “Just sitting around in some abandoned resort lodge?”
    Wincing, Judson held the phone away from his ear.
    His father had built a business empire founded on rare earths and valuable ores. Elias had interests in every region of the globe. As president and CEO of Coppersmith, Inc., he did high-level deals in cosmopolitan European capitals and in hardscrabble mining camps on every continent. He had connections that stretched from Wall Street and Washington, D.C., to the farthest corners of the planet.
    The strategic importance of rare earths ensured that Elias could pick up a phone and get the full and immediate attention of government officials, directors of hedge funds and the owners of a wide range of technology firms. He was the go-to man for those who wanted to know what the foreign competition was doing. In practice, Elias almost never picked up the phone. Other people wasted a lot of their valuable time and their assistants’ valuable time trying to get through to him.
    Elias could hold his own with anyone from an East Coast banker to a Silicon Valley engineer, but he had started out as a hard rock prospector in the deserts of the American West, and he would