Home Fires

by W L Ripley

  She needed this job since her no-good husband left her with two kids to feed and care for. The medical insurance plan offered by the county was a good one as was the dental plan. Things Bailey would not have if she were terminated.

  Her primary focus was to keep her job; a job she had trained for and taken JC courses in college. It was a dream she’d had since she graduated high school. Become a law enforcement officer and hopefully catch on with the Highway Patrol or on the police force in a large city.

  Maybe law school if she could swing it. She had long-term goals, chief among them raising her child in a secure home.

  These things were on her mind.

  What if Doc learned of the rape before Bailey could tell him about it? It would be hard to explain, and Bailey had already seen how touchy the sheriff was about his daughter, Pam. Pam, for her part, was the topic of much police gossip, none of which ever reached Doc Kellogg’s ears. Hell no. That would be the end of that person’s career, you bet.

  She was going to have to tell him and soon.

  But, man, did she dread doing so.

  Doc Kellogg was not a man who handled bad news well.

  After his talk with Vienna Dalrymple Jake decided finding Fat Boy Haller would have to wait. Buddy said he’d keep him posted if Haller was found and Jake asked Leo to do a little research on Haller’s habits and background.

  “It’s time your wealth of Paradise history actually works to our benefit,” Jake said, to Leo.

  Christine McKee’s address would require a three-hour road trip across the state. Another day lost. Only two days left. Before heading there Jake wanted to shake things up a little. He decided a visit with the person he believed bailed out Fat Boy Haller was in order.

  Jake entered the Paradise Bank and asked to see the president, Pam Kellogg Mitchell.

  “May I tell her your name and the nature of your visit?”

  “Jake Morgan. Need to borrow a large amount of money. Considering buying a farm.”

  “Would you prefer to see a loan officer?”

  “No. Missus Mitchell is expecting me.” Actually the last thing she expected.

  “I’ll tell her you’re here,” said the teller, a fresh-faced young girl, smiling a helpful smile. Maybe he’d open an account here.

  The teller left then returned, her face flushed. “I’m sorry, but Missus Mitchell is busy right now.”

  “That’s her office back there, isn’t it?” Jake said, pointing.

  “Well, yes but – ”

  “I’ll just go on back.”

  “Wait.”

  He ignored her and pushed open the door to Pam’s office, the teller following him.

  “Good morning, Pam,” Jake said as he entered. No one in the room but Pam who didn’t look busy, in fact, she seemed annoyed. You come home and no one is happy about it.

  “I’m sorry, Missus Mitchell,” said the teller. “I told him you were busy but – ”

  Pam held up a hand and said, “It’s okay, Naomi. Won’t you sit down, Mister Morgan?”

  Mr. Morgan? Pretty formal for someone who proposed love and devotion. Harper was right, he had angered Pam Mitchell. Jake sat.

  The teller left them.

  “What do you want, Jake?”

  “Why’d you bail out Fat Boy?”

  “Why do you persist in irritating me?”

  “I asked you second.”

  “Okay. None of your business.”

  “I’m not playing with you, Pam. This is a homicide investigation and I believe it’s tied to Gage’s death.”

  “I don’t see a badge.”

  “Auxiliary officer,” Jake said, with mock pride. “Paradise PD.”

  “What?”

  “Either you provide a plausible explanation for your unusual interest in bailing out Vernon’s alleged killer or I’ll begin to equate that with complicity.”

  “Grow up and use your head.”

  “Best to tell it now.”

  She pursed her lips, containing herself before saying, “I don’t believe he did it.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “He was helping me at the house the day Vernon was shot. A terrible thing.” She was switching gears now, going with the innocent little girl mourning the loss of a family member. Her voice shaking. “I sent him to do something on the farm. He couldn’t have done it.”

  “Did you watch him do this thing you sent him to do?”

  “No.”

  “Were you in the house while Haller was away as he said he was?”

  “No.” She put a finger to her lips and a faraway look came into her eyes. “I left right after that. Took a ride on my horse.”

  “So, you don’t know where he was.”

  “I’m certain he did as I requested.”

  “The weapon was stolen from your house. I saw you and Haller together just before Vernon was shot.”

  “How’d you see us?”

  “I was at Vernon’s prior to the shooting.”

  “Maybe you did it?”

  “Sure, I walked past you, broke into your home, stole the weapon, walked back across the road, using the power of invisibility so you wouldn’t see me. Too late for that scenario anyway. Look, Pam, you’re the person accused him of stealing the weapon and they have his fingerprints on the weapon and a positive residue test.”

  “I hated telling them Noah had stolen the gun. Still, I just thought he wouldn’t do such a thing.”

  Jake watching her closely, remembering Pam’s talent for affecting emotion. She was damn good. She was intelligent and practiced at gauging people’s reaction to her charms.

  “You didn’t hear a shot?”

  “No.”

  “Where is Haller?” Jake said.

  “I have no idea.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “That’s because you’ve become cynical and insufferable. What happened to you, Jake? You used to be a lot of fun. Why would I want to hide him?”

  “I don’t know, why would you hide him? You know the answer.”

  “I’m out a lot of money if he doesn’t return in time for the trial.”

  “And, perhaps gaining many times more what you lose.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “So, tell me where he is or might be and I’ll run him down and turn him in to Doc.”

  “Well,” she said, making a show of considering it. “Give me some time and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Do you know someone named Chris McKee?”

  There it was. She hesitated a beat before saying, “Who?”

  Just a flicker but he caught it before she composed herself.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Jake drove east to Jericho, Missouri, the home of Christine McKee. Driving along he made mental notes of vehicles that accompanied him on the trip. One stood out as it turned off at the Jericho exit and followed him a few blocks into town before turning off. A dark green Toyota Camry.

  His guarded nature heightened by recent events caused him to take a circuitous route to his destination. Confident he’d lost the tail he continued on his journey.

  Christine McKee lived in a modest frame home in Jericho, Missouri, nicely landscaped with oak trees turning harvest colors and a rock garden.

  When McKee opened the door, Jake was taken aback. Same slender face and brown eyes. A lovely middle-aged woman, Christine McKee could pass as Alex Mitchell’s older sister. Jake tried not to stare as she invited him inside.

  “Are you all right?” she asked as Jake sat.

  “Yes. It’s nothing. I just – . Thank you for allowing me to visit.”

  Mrs. Dalrymple vouched for Jake, so McKee was happy to receive him and had prepared coffee and cookies in advance of his arrival. Cookies again. Small town hospitality was going to damage his health. At least she had coffee instead of tea.

  “Vienna said you were quite the rounder when you were in her class. ‘Rounder’ was her word. She said you had some questi
ons about my parents. I’m afraid I won’t be much help. I was barely out of diapers when they disappeared.”

  Jake was quiet, digesting the information, watching mannerisms that seemed familiar.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked again.

  “They disappeared?”

  “I hardly remember them. I was placed in a foster home for a brief time until my Aunt Sharon, Mother’s sister, was allowed to become my guardian. Vienna kept in contact with me for many years though I’ve only met her once or twice. A very nice lady. She was, I believe, close friends with my parents.”

  “You know a man named Vernon Mitchell?”

  She gave him a quizzical look. “Strange. You’re the second person to ask that question.”

  “Who asked before me?”

  “It was a couple. I’ve forgotten their names though I’m of a mind they were not using their real names.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “A guess, but they were very careful to make sure they used each other’s real names repeatedly as if afraid they would forget them.”

  Jake happy to find Mrs. McKee was sharp, observant. “When was this?”

  “About six weeks ago.”

  “Can you describe them?”

  She gave a description of the pair. The man sounded like Gage Burnell but could be someone else. The woman she described as ‘quite beautiful, even stunning and assertive’. The woman asked most of the questions. Jake asked if their names were ‘Pam’ or ‘Gage’.

  “No,” she said. “I certainly would’ve remembered the name ‘Gage’. Unusual.”

  “How about the name Alex Mitchell?”

  Shaking her head now. “No. What is this about?”

  “Your parents’ disappearance may have some bearing on a homicide investigation back at Paradise.” Hedging on why a Texas ranger, acting as an auxiliary officer was involved on such an investigation. He showed her his ranger star. “Do you remember anything about your parents that might help me?”

  “Texas Ranger?” She pursed her lips in thought. “I can’t think of anything at the moment.”

  “Almost anything has a possibility of providing an investigative avenue. Something left to you, photos, memorabilia, anything. You never know what will help or at least give me an insight into the personalities involved.”

  She nodded and said, “I’ll be right back.” Mrs. McKee left the room briefly and returned with a Florsheim’s shoebox, its edges brown and timeworn. Also, a couple of age-faded yearbooks from 1967 and 1968. She set the items on a table then removed the shoebox top, setting it upside down on the table. Inside were photos, some clippings and other memorabilia.

  “You are welcome to look through these things,” she said. “I hope it helps.”

  Jake sat and began removing the articles separating them into different piles. Black-and-white photos in one small stack, color photos in another. Clippings in a stack, and miscellaneous memorabilia in a pile to one side.

  The clippings were family reunions, picnics, little children, the usual stuff families accumulate. The photos were helpful as they were dated with names on the back of the photos allowing him to be able to pick out Caroline and Frank Yoder. One color photo dated 4-16-68 struck his eye. It showed a young Caroline Yoder, by her maiden name, Friedebach, smiling and showing off an unusual ring. It was a square shaped tiger eye. A smaller version of one he’d seen before. Jake sat the photo aside and went through the rest of the material but didn’t learn anything.

  He picked up the yearbooks and leafed through them. Fortunately, there was an index in the 1968 Paradise High School yearbook, and he looked up the page numbers for Mitchell, Vernon and Friedebach, Caroline. There were five cross-referenced pages listed. One was their composite class picture, the type they hung in hallways in schools the alumni would come back and search out; two more were in clubs they both were members of. But there was one photo that stood out for Jake.

  It was a candid of a young Vernon Mitchell, who looked very much like a larger version of Tommy, with Caroline. Vernon had Caroline by the waist and a laughing Caroline was showing off two similar rings: one larger than the other on her left hand.

  “Do you have a magnifying glass?” Jake asked Christine.

  “Yes. I’ll get it.” She did so and handed it to him.

  Jake looked closer at the old photo. Two Tiger eye rings. The larger one a dead ringer for the ring Alex Mitchell wore. Could it be the same ring? He sat back and thought about that.

  “You wouldn’t have any of your mother’s jewelry, by chance?”

  She nodded. “As a matter of fact, I do. Would you like to see it? It’s mostly costume jewelry.”

  While she was gone, Jake decided to check the index for Yoder, Franklin then cross-referenced with Friedebach, Caroline. Only one page. And it showed Franklin and Caroline hand-in-hand in their graduation gown. They were a striking couple. Caroline was a beautiful young lady whose smile spoke of life ahead. Frank was tall, fair complexioned with kind brown eyes. They looked very happy. The kind of people who knew they were happy. Did that happiness rankle Vernon Mitchell? How deep was his resentment that he waited almost six years for revenge? What triggered such murderous vengeance?

  Something happened during their senior year, whereby Caroline threw over Vernon for Frank Yoder. Jake remembered Mrs. Dalrymple had said Caroline Yoder was pregnant when she married Franklin.

  Jake wondered if he was looking right at the source of Vernon’s jealousy as Caroline returned with a hexagon-shaped jewelry box decorated with ornate blue flowers. She handed it to Jake. Jake looked through the items and found what he was looking for wondering if someone else had been looking for it years ago.

  It was the smallish woman’s Tiger eye ring. One other ring was missing that Jake was interested in finding and now sure he knew who wore the other.

  “Do you have your mother’s wedding ring?”

  She shook her head. “No, she must have been wearing it when they disappeared.”

  Jake held up the Tiger eye ring. “You ever wear this?”

  “No. It was my mother’s, so I have kept it to remember her. Anything about her.”

  “How’d you come by your mother’s jewelry?”

  “My aunt saved it for me. Mom had visited Aunt Sharon just a few days before her disappearance and had taken her jewelry with her. This is odd. A few years ago, I offered to give Aunt Sharon a couple of pieces to remind her of mother and well... when she saw the Tiger eye it upset her. I asked her about it, but she said, ‘it just reminds me of another time’.”

  “I would like to speak with your aunt,” Jake said.

  “She died last year. There is no family left save me and my husband and our two sons, both married now.”

  “May I keep this ring, temporarily?”

  “Well.” She hesitated. “What are you thinking? Why would you want it? She trailed off.

  “I don’t want to upset you,” Jake said. “But I don’t think your parents disappeared. I believe they were killed.”

  “I’ve heard that dad murdered mom and then killed himself. Just horrible.”

  “No,” Jake said, shaking his head. “That did not happen.”

  Her eyes closed and she exhaled. “You have no idea... God bless you. What a relief to hear that. So glad someone knows my father would not do such a thing. Then who?”

  He exhaled, feeling compassion for his nice lady. “I believe the man who did it and I’m fairly satisfied he’s the one, has recently been murdered and that’s why I’m here.”

  “What?” Christine put a hand to the side of her mouth. “How awful. And you think the ring helps you do what?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure but it’s a powerful coincidence.”

  “Take it then, for as long as you need it.”

  “Also the yearbooks and this photo, if you don’t mind.” Jake held up the photo of Caroline and the ring.

  “Whatever you need. I only ask you return the item
s when you’re finished and that you share what you find.”

  “Okay. One more thing and this is a hard one.”

  Christine nodded her head slowly. “All right. What is it?”

  “I know this is sudden,” Jake said, “and it’s going to sound unusual, but I’d like a hair sample from you if you don’t mind providing one.”

  “What?” She began laughing. “Vienna warned me that you had an unusual sense of humor. Why would I do something like that?”

  “In fact, if you pluck one or two from your head that would be helpful in clearing up something.” A hair follicle was more accurate for a DNA test than a cut hair and he wanted a one hundred percent match. “Perhaps a blood test.”

  She placed a hand to her mouth, surprised. “What are you hoping to learn from all of this?”

  “Maybe nothing,” Jake said. “I can’t really say at this point and I don’t want to be unnecessarily intrusive. If I’m wrong, it could be distressing to others and even to you. You’ll have to trust me. I promise to share what I learn.”

  “You believe it portends to something else.”

  Jake nodded. “Yes.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Okay, if you think it will help, I’ll do it. All of it.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Leaving the McKee home Jake drove two blocks and sat in the parking lot of a Baptist Church, empty on a weekday. From this point he could see the front of the McKee home through a pocket monocular he carried with him.

  He waited.

  Within ten minutes the dark green Camry drove by the McKee home and then disappeared around the corner.

  Jake waited some more.

  There it was again. The green Camry drove slowly by and then stopped in front of the house. A smallish round balding man in a tan raincoat got out of the car and walked to the door, and pushed on the doorbell, the main door opened but not the storm door. The man was talking yet the door wasn’t opening. He pulled on the door handle and it opened partway when Caroline pulled it shut.