A Troubling Turn of Events

by Darrell Maloney

  And that made this personal.

  -12-

  Dottie McMurphy was a kindly old woman. She had the type of personality common among school teachers and librarians. A kind spirit who said, “oh my goodness” a lot.

  “Oh my goodness,” she said when Sara and Charlie told her why they were there.

  “Did you know Katie Jamison?”

  “Oh goodness no. I never had the pleasure. I hope the poor dear didn’t have to suffer before she died.”

  Sara spared her the gruesome details. She didn’t tell her the young woman was horribly tortured before she died, and likely died an agonizing death.

  She merely said, “I hope so as well, ma’am.”

  “Well, let me get my sketch pad and we’ll get started.”

  As it turned out, Mrs. McMurphy was an amazing artist.

  And exceedingly patient as well.

  They started with the eyes.

  “They’re the most important part of any face,” the old woman said. “If we can’t get the eyes right, the rest doesn’t matter at all. Because if the eyes aren’t right he won’t look like the man you’re trying to convey no matter what else we do.”

  Charlie Sikes was bored after the first hour.

  By the end of the second hour he’d read all four of the magazines on Mrs. McMurphy’s coffee table, cover to cover.

  By the end of the third hour he was fast asleep on her couch.

  Mrs. McMurphy took a break just long enough to cover him with a pink afghan.

  “I made it myself just last month. I thought he looked oh so cold.”

  Sara wished her cell phone still worked. She’d have taken a photo of him sleeping, a big manly man fast asleep beneath a bright pink afghan, just to blackmail him with it.

  By the time Mrs. McMurphy stopped to light two oil lanterns, one on either side of her easel, she and Sara were practically the best of friends.

  They’d talked about anything and everything except one.

  And Sara finally felt comfortable enough with her to broach the subject.

  “Mrs. McMurphy?”

  “Please, child. I’ve told you a dozen times already. Call me Dottie.”

  “Dottie, you know Tom Haskins pretty well.”

  “Oh, yes. We’ve known each other for many years.”

  “How did you come to meet?”

  “We met at a parent-teacher meeting. For his son. Back in those days it was very rare for fathers to come to such meetings. It was the end of an era when it was still considered a mother’s thing to do.

  “These days many fathers go to such meetings. But back then he was the only one. At least for my students.”

  “Pardon me. But you were an art teacher. You had parent-teacher conferences for art?”

  “Art is a serious subject, young lady. Just as serious as math or science.”

  “I’m sorry. I meant no offense.”

  “I know you didn’t, dear. I know what you meant. The truth was, it is possible to fail an art class, then and now. Typically students don’t fail when they put in the effort. But when they slack off or fail to turn in their assignments, as young Caleb was doing, they certainly can and do fail.”

  “Young Caleb?”

  “Caleb was Tom’s son.”

  “I knew he had a son. But he never talks about him.”

  “Oh, Caleb was a fine boy. Not the most motivated student I ever had. He had a bad habit of using my class to catch up on his sleep instead of doing his assignments. But he was a wonderful young man.”

  “That’s why you scheduled a conference with Tom? Because Caleb was misbehaving in class?”

  “Not really. It was because I was worried about Caleb. You see, this was in the months right after his mother… Tom’s wife died. I’m sorry, I can’t remember her name. She died the previous school year before Caleb was my student, you see. So I never met her.

  “In his senior year he took art as one of his electives. As I recall he was a better than average artist, but he dozed off in class almost every day.

  “I thought he had a sleep disorder and mentioned it to another of his teachers who knew his story.

  “She told me his mother had died of cancer the previous spring.”

  “Oh, my.”

  “Yes. And apparently he was having a hard time dealing with it. He wasn’t sleeping well at night. So he came to school exhausted. It turned out he was dozing off in some of his other classes as well.

  “His situation touched my heart, because we had something in common. I lost my own mother to cancer, while I was in high school. That was many years before, of course. And don’t ask me how many years because I’m not going to tell you.”

  She smiled.

  “Tom came in and we discussed the situation. And we ended up making a special concession for young Caleb.”

  “A special concession?”

  “I told Tom that I knew what Caleb was going through. That I understood. And that I would reseat him to the back of the room so it wasn’t obvious to the other students when he put his head on his desk and napped during my class.

  “I told Tom as long as he turned in one assignment per week I wouldn’t fail him.

  “By the end of the year he’d gotten past the worst of his grieving. One never really gets over losing one’s mother, but by the end of the year he was no longer sleeping in class.

  He started doing his assignments and even did extra credit to make up for all the Ds I’d been giving him. As I remember, he passed the class with a B.

  “By that time Tom and I were good friends. I remember Caleb coming to me after graduation and hugging me and telling me I was the best teacher he’d ever had.

  “I still remember his words. He said I was his favorite teacher because I was ‘more than a teacher because I cared more about him than his grades.’ That touched my heart because I think it was the very first time somebody told me I was their favorite teacher.”

  “Dottie… I know Caleb died later. How did he die, exactly?”

  -13-

  Dottie hesitated before going on, as though considering whether she was betraying the trust of a good friend.

  But Tom didn’t speak much of his lost son because he was trying to keep it a secret.

  He didn’t talk about Caleb’s death because even after all these years it still brought him pain.

  She decided he wouldn’t mind her sharing the details with Sara.

  “It was the early-1990s. Maybe 1992, though I might be off by a year or two.

  “Caleb graduated a couple of years before and joined the United States Air Force. I remember Tom was so proud of him. We all were. Despite his sleeping in my class he was a fine young man. Everyone he met loved him.

  “The Air Force sent him to Saudi Arabia. Desert Storm was over by then, but they kept our military there for a long time. To help train the Saudi Air Force, I think.

  “Caleb was married by then and had a wife and baby at home. Her name was Sarah too. Do you spell your name with an H at the end?”

  “No ma’am. I spell mine S-A-R-A.”

  “Hers had an H at the end, but other than that you could almost be her. You look an awful lot like her. You seem to have the same personality too.

  “Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked, I’m sorry.

  “The Air Force sent Caleb to Saudi Arabia with a bunch of other people. He was a jet engine mechanic, so I suppose he was showing them how to repair jet engines.

  “Anyway, they all lived in a complex of high-rise apartment buildings in a little town called Khobar.

  “I call them high-rise apartments, silly me. I think they were only six or seven stories high, but remember I’ve lived in Kerrville my entire life. We don’t have tall buildings in Kerrville, so six or seven story buildings are high-rises to me.”

  Sara smiled.

  “I understand,” she said.

  “Anyway, I remember the day they blew up the building. It was all over CNN. They showed the building where Caleb
and the others lived, and the whole front of the building was just gone. You could see the furniture inside all of the rooms because the front of the building was just blown away.”

  Sara gasped and asked, “Oh, no. What happened?”

  “Terrorists. They drove a big truck full of explosives and parked it in front of the building. Then they ran away like cowards and detonated it.

  “It was a couple of days before they released the names of the dead, but Tom knew. So did Sarah.

  “They knew because Caleb would have called them immediately if he was okay. And if he was in the hospital he’d have had one of his friends call.

  “But the phone never rang.

  “Poor Tom sat by that phone for two days, praying it would ring, and it never did. Sarah brought the baby over and stayed with him during that time and they cried together.

  “At the end of the second day there was a knock on the door.

  “Tom said he knew before he opened the door they’d be standing there.

  “Sure enough, it was an Air Force chaplain and another officer.

  “I remember they were in a bit of a bind.

  “If Caleb had been single, they were supposed to notify his parents. But since he was married, they had to notify his wife instead.

  “But they’d been to Caleb’s apartment and couldn’t find Sarah. So they actually went to Tom’s house not to notify him, but to ask if he knew where they could find Sarah so they could notify her.

  “Since Sarah was there with Tom, they were both notified at the same time. But like I said, they already knew. The Air Force officers showing up on his doorstep just made it official.

  “Tom told me later that was the most difficult time of his life. They buried Caleb at the military cemetery. Tom made a vow to Sarah that their baby would never lack for a father figure. That he would do all the things Caleb could no longer do himself. Things like take the boy fishing, and teach him to ride a bike. The kinds of things a father does with his son.”

  Sara interrupted her long enough to ask, “What was the baby’s name?”

  A tear formed in Dottie’s eye when she said, “Caleb Junior.”

  “Oh no…”

  “Yes. That’s why when Tom talks of the situation today, he’s most likely to refer to Caleb Jr. as ‘the baby.’ So as not to confuse the baby with his son.

  “Anyway, he told Sarah he knew she was likely to fall in love again and remarry someday, that she was young and pretty and still full of life.

  “And that was okay, he said. But he said in the meantime he’d do all the fatherly things with the baby so he wasn’t lacking for a father.

  “They started to adapt to life without Caleb Sr. The baby took his first steps and got his first haircut down at Floyd’s Barber Shop. That was a big deal in itself, because for a long time the poor child simply had no hair.

  “It was four months to the day after Caleb Sr.’s funeral that Sarah and the baby died. Hit head on by a drunk driver who crossed the center line.

  “The police said they might have been saved if the drunk driver had called 911 immediately. Instead he left his cell phone in his car and stumbled into the nearby woods, trying to run from what he’d done.

  “It happened on a Sunday afternoon on a county road that was seldom traveled, even on a weekday. It was about twenty minutes before another car happened along and called 911. By then it was too late for both of them.”

  By now Sara was in tears.

  “I feel so bad for Tom. It must have been hell for him.”

  “It was. He went inside himself for months. Didn’t care whether he lived or died. Many days he didn’t get out of bed. I used to take him food because I knew he wasn’t motivated to cook for himself. Half the time I left his new food and took away the food I’d left the previous day because he hadn’t eaten it.

  “He never fully recovered from that time in his life, but he learned to move on.”

  “Now I understand why he never talks of his son or grandson. I guess it’s still too painful.”

  “Something you should know, Sara, is that’s part of the reason you mean so much to him.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Part of it might be that you and Sarah had the same name. But mostly it’s because he sees you and your husband Jordan, and your son Christopher, his second chance to be a father and a grandfather.

  “You may see his giving you a partner as being overprotective. And perhaps it is.

  “But mostly it’s because he loves you.

  “And that he’s lost everyone else he’s ever loved, and he’s desperate not to lose you too.”

  -14-

  Sara was stunned. Suddenly so much now made sense.

  For a very long time Tom had treated her more as a daughter than a friend.

  When she went to him and told him she wanted to work for him as a deputy, he’d been very resistant to the idea.

  It was something she had to work hard to talk him into.

  But it wasn’t because he was a sexist old coot, as she’d first thought.

  It wasn’t because he thought law enforcement in a rural setting was a man’s work, or that he thought she should be at home raising children or baking cookies like other women.

  No, that wasn’t it at all.

  He didn’t want to put her in harm’s way, because he’d developed a genuine love for her.

  It turned out she was many things to him. First, a good friend, for they’d grown quite close on their trip to San Antonio and Castroville together.

  But it turned out she was much more than that.

  She was the daughter he’d always wanted but never had because his wife died too soon.

  She was the daughter-in-law to the son he’d doted on.

  She was the mother of young Christopher, who he could treat as a grandson in all the ways he could no longer treat Caleb Jr.

  “I understand his feelings now,” Sara told Dottie. “I understand his need to protect me. But he can’t play favorites between his deputies.”

  “Well, that’s one way you can look at it,” Dottie smiled and said. “Or you can look at it another way instead.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, by putting you and Charlie together he’s protecting both of you. You’ll be protecting Charlie’s back as much as he’s protecting yours.

  “After all, who says the killer only kills women?”

  It was a good point, and Sara surrendered.

  The sketch was finished and was a very good likeness of the man she’d seen that morning.

  She said her goodbyes to Dottie and thanked her.

  “For what?”

  “For giving me an insight into Tom’s mind. He told me once, when we were on the road back from San Antonio, that my coming into his life filled a very big hole. A place in his heart that had been empty for a very long time.

  “I told him I didn’t understand, and asked him what he meant. But he couldn’t answer. He lost his words and started to get emotional, so I didn’t push him.

  “Now I understand. I finally have all the answers.”

  “Has he ever told you he loves you Sara?”

  “No. I can’t recall that he ever has. But I’ve known it for awhile.”

  “You’re not only his second chance to be a grandfather, you’re also the daughter he always wanted and never had.”

  “I know that now, and thank you for helping me to understand it.”

  “Something else you need to know, Sara. Tom is one of my best friends in the world. I’ve loved him for a very long time myself. I’d have married him a long time ago if he’d asked. He never did, so I assumed he was determined to be single to the day he died.

  “Then he married Linda and broke my heart.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No. Don’t be. They compliment each other and Linda makes him happy. That’s much more important than my silly dreams.

  “And don’t you dare tell him I told you that.”

  “I wo
n’t, I promise.”

  They walked into Dottie’s den and Sara lifted the back of the couch to roll Charlie Sikes onto the floor.

  “Come on, Charlie. It’s time to go.”

  “Oh come on now, Sara. You could have just tapped me on the shoulder and woke me up. You didn’t have to roll me off the darn couch.”

  “I know. But tapping you on the shoulder wouldn’t have been as much fun.”

  She winked at Dottie and Dottie smiled.

  Each of them shared the same feeling; that they’d just made a lifelong friend.

  “Oh, look,” Dottie said as they walked out onto her front porch. “I’ve kept you way past dark.”

  “Yes,” Sara countered. “But look at what a glorious moon.”

  The moon was full and cast so much light on the earth she could almost see her shadow.

  They waved goodbye, Sara and Charlie did, and Sara burned rubber pulling out of the driveway.

  “Next time how about letting me drive, so I can count on seeing my next birthday?” he said.

  She just smiled and said nothing.

  When she pulled into the parking lot at the Sheriff’s office ten minutes later Charlie asked, “How do you wanna work this, partner? Want to meet here each morning at eight?”

  “Sure. Are you gonna be on time?”

  “I’m always on time.”

  “Really, now?”

  “Well, more or less.”

  “Okay. Meet me here at eight. If you’re on time, you get to drive. If you’re even one minute late I drive. Deal?”

  “By whose watch?”

  “By both of them. Synchronize yours. I have ten past eight.”

  He adjusted his watch and said, “Deal. I’ll see you in the morning, partner.”

  In the bushes across the street a solitary figure crouched and watched.

  He watched as Charlie got out of the Silverado and walked over to his own pickup.

  But the mysterious figure wasn’t interested in Charlie. He watched Sara’s truck as it pulled onto Highway 16, then watched her tail lights in the distance until she turned westbound onto Interstate 10.