Relic: The Morelville Mysteries - Book 1

by Anne Hagan

“Drop your pride and cut this petty theft crap out. Get her signed up for WIC so you can get food in the house the honest way. Charity is better than jail. She needs to go to their building over on Putnam.”

  “I'll take her to do it tomorrow Sheriff, I swear, if I don't have to go to jail. I can't afford no bail. There ain't nobody else to take her if I ain't there. She don't drive.”

  “How about an exchange? I asked him. “You give me information and I talk to the judge about no jail time and community service.”

  “What kind of information?”

  “What do you know about the mini crime wave we've got going on around here that you say you're not a part of?”

  “I don't know nothin' 'bout that. It's the truth! I don't know what I can tell you.”

  “If you can't tell me anything useful, I'm going to have to take you down to holding for the night.” He hung his head. I had really thought I could get somewhere with him.

  “Come on. Get up. I’ll walk you down there.”

  We walked out of interrogation and headed down the hall to booking. He was shaking visibly. I thought he might be scared but, really, I knew better. He wasn’t a first timer. I looked at his sunken cheeks and his gaunt frame and I realized he must be hungry. He was stealing for his girl and their unborn child but he wasn't eating himself.

  I wheeled him into the break room. “Look. How about a soda? It's on me.”

  “That's kind of you ma'am.” His eyes grew wide as he looked at the vending machines. “If it's all right with you, I see some juice in that machine over there. I'd like to have me one of those.”

  I watched him out of the corner of my eye while I put money in the machine for his juice. He was eying the candy machine hungrily.

  “I've been so busy today, I didn't get to eat lunch,” I told him. “I'm going to grab a Snicker's bar. Do you want one?”

  He lit up at that and nodded. I wasn't sure how it was going to go with his juice but the gesture brought him to my side.

  “Thank you ma'am. I ain't had lunch neither”, he said as he gulped his first bite. “It's sure nice of you to do this.”

  He followed me out of the break room. I played my next card.

  “I know you would prefer to work if you could. I'm not here to torture you and take advantage of you. I have a job to do but that doesn't give me the right to treat people who are just trying to get by like crap.” I was laying it on a little thick and I knew it, but I could see the wheels turning in his head.

  He started to speak and then paused and looked around. I figured that he was about to finger someone for one of my very real burglary or vandalism crimes. Instead, he leaned close to me and he said, “I know something about that funny money they were talkin’ about on TV the other day.”

  Jackpot! I could barely believe my ears.

  “You don't say? Let's take this conversation into my office and keep it between us.”

  I hustled him inside and closed the door.

  He started to pace.

  “Please, sit down.”

  He perched on the edge of his chair. “I probably shouldn't have said anything. If anyone finds out I snitched...”

  “No one will find out from me. You have my word.”

  He looked around like he was trying to make sure we were completely alone. “I was hangin' out with Travis last week, helpin' him work on his truck.”

  “Travis who?”

  “Stearman. Lives over in the Burg”

  I knew Travis Stearman quite well. He has a misdemeanor rap sheet as long as my arm. In our last run in, one of my deputies had busted him for possession with intent to distribute after stopping him for a moving violation. His attorney got him off when we failed to prove probable cause to search his vehicle. He wasn't high on the list of my favorite people. “How do you know he's passing fake money?”

  “I don't know for sure that he is but somethin' ain't right. We was putting a lift kit on his truck. I'd had a few beers and I needed to take a leak. While I was in the bathroom, a guy showed up. I heard them come in the house. They was talkin' real quiet.”

  “I couldn't hear what they was sayin’ but then I saw the other guy give Travis a stack of what looked like a hundred brand new twenties. Travis didn't give him nothin' in return.”

  “I didn't say nothin' to them and I acted like I didn't see nothin'. I figured if he was still dealin', I didn't want no part of it. I didn't think about it again until I saw the funny money thing on the news. Them looked like brand new twenties...” He trailed off.

  “Did you know the other guy?”

  “Never seen him before.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “Black but real light. Maybe six foot tall. Lots of tattoos. Was wearin' a ball cap and sun glasses.”

  “Let's look at some pictures.” I had him pull his chair around to my side of the desk while I booted up my computer. We looked at hundreds of mug shots but, in the end, we had no luck. We couldn't finger the money man. At least I had a lead.

  I walked Eddie through processing and got him released on his own recognizance for the time being. By the time I wrapped everything up with him, it was late. I wanted to pay a visit to Travis Stearman but I was drained. That would have to wait until morning.

  I headed home. My sister was working second shift at the station. The kids would want dinner. I smiled at the thought of a little domestic bliss after a long day in crime's clutches.

  When I pulled in, Beth, Kris's daughter, hung out over the near side of the back deck rail and waved me over. “Aunt Mel! Come see!”

  ###

 

  I've been a cop for 14 years. Nothing, in all that time, prepared me for the things my sister's teenagers could hit me with that I never saw coming. I sucked in a breath, blew it out and walked around to the back of the house. There, I found Cole, my nephew, Kris's oldest, sitting astride an oil drum that he'd rigged up on ropes not meant for the purpose between a tree and one of the decorative side rail spindles on our deck that wasn't made for the abuse it was getting. Two of his friends were jerking the ropes up and down as he “pretended” to be a professional bull rider, his latest obsession.

  Cole was 15 going on five. There was no reasoning with him when he got one of his crazy ideas. He had to learn the hard way, Every. Single. Time.

  The clothesline style rope Cole’s buddy on the tree side, Ben, was jerking was about 3/8ths inch thick woven cotton. Under the weight and stress, it was stretching. The barrel Cole was “riding” plummeted toward the ground. The boy was unceremoniously dumped backwards on his head. To add insult to injury, the force of his fall, loosened the deck railing and it snapped the spindle the rope on the other end was tied to, sending shards of wood flying.

  His buddies both jumped back, stunned. Beth rushed off the deck, to his side. I whipped out my cell phone, completely prepared to call for a squad.

  Beth screamed, “Cole! Cole! Are you okay?”

  I moved fast toward him yelling at her not to touch him.

  He lay stationary on his back on the cool, damp ground for several seconds, eyes closed. As I was kneeling down beside him, he opened his eyes and groaned.

  “Don't move buddy.”

  He ignored me. He lifted his head and then he struggled to sit up. He shook his head like he was shaking out dust and then, despite my efforts to hold him down, he got up.

  “That was so cool!” he crowed, as he staggered to his feet. Only then did he realize that his little stunt had damaged the deck and he got real quiet.

  His two buddies, once seeing that he was okay, split like firewood leaving him hanging in my glare. I ordered both he and Beth into the house and to their rooms. Beth stomped off muttering that she had only been watching and that punishing her wasn’t fair. I hated to be the bad guy at home but it had been a long day, my head was pounding and I was just in no mood for any more of their crazy antics.

  After a few minutes of trying t
o clear my own head, I realized that Cole might have a concussion, even though he seemed fine. I called him back to the kitchen. Relying on my limited First Aid training and 15 years of his bumps and spills, I was asking him questions and checking his eyes. We were standing near the sink. Through the window over it, movement out in the yard caught my eye. Someone was in the back yard.

  It might be my stalker out there or it might be one of Cole’s buddies coming back to retrieve something. I couldn’t be sure. For the safety of my family, I needed to find out.

  I called out to Beth and she came to the kitchen. “I’m worried that Cole may have a concussion. I think we might need to run him to the ER. I want you to sit with him in the living room for a few minutes while I run up the street to the gas station and tell your mom what’s happened.

  Cole made a face. He knew his mother would be first concerned and then, after that, upset with him. Her displeasure would turn to ire when she saw the damage to the deck. He slumped off to the living room with his sister trailing him.

  Chapter 5 – Mel and Dana Meet a 3rd Time

  Mel

  I was still in uniform. I unbuttoned my holster and stepped out the side door by the driveway. I moved quickly behind a shrub for cover. I kept low using first the house and shrubs to conceal me.

  We were living in the old family home. God Bless Nana, may she forever rest in peace. She had really loved gardening and landscaping.

  When I reached the back corner where the driveway side of the deck jutted off, I lost my shrubbery cover. I got as low as I could and crawled to the barrel and then to the tree the barrel was still, technically, tied to. I peered around the tree. There was someone standing up against the tool shed and she was looking right at me… Dana Rossi!

  What the f---? Why is she here?

  Dana tapped her index finger against her lip, signaling me not to call out to her. Completely pissed off at her presence on my property, I scooted over to her quickly.

  “What are you doing here?” I shoved her back against the wall. “Do you have a death wish? You could have been shot!”

  She laughed, quietly, but she actually laughed. “You can’t shoot anyone with your gun in your holster Sheriff.” Sarcasm dripped with her words.

  There she went again, making me feel like an incompetent hick town cop. I caught her wrists and pinned her arms over her head.

  “I hate repeating myself. Why are you here?”

  “We're trying to catch whoever sent you those pictures. Someone doesn't want you working with us and we're trying to find out who.”

  “We're?” I asked. “Who else is here?”

  “I have a couple of teammates strategically placed to watch the house and the street.”

  “Look, if you're trying to scare me away from your case, it isn't going to work. Not if it intersects with mine, it isn't.”

  “Yeah, because we all know how easy you scare...”

  “You know, you're pretty sarcastic for a woman who's pinned against a wall. Obviously, you didn't learn your lesson the last time.”

  She was getting on my last nerve and I wanted her off my property but I couldn't bring myself to let go of the annoying woman just yet. There was just something about her that got under my skin. It wasn't just that she annoyed me. I just couldn't put my finger on it. She was small but not fragile, smart but not completely confident in her abilities. She was a mass of contradictions and a major distraction. Being this close to her, touching her, was creating havoc between my brain and my body.

  I need to quit thinking about her! Snap out of it! “You're trespassing, you know.”

  “Where are the pictures?”

  “What?”

  “The pictures the stalker sent you? I want them. Where are they?”

  “Those are evidence. They're in the evidence lock-up.”

  “Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England. You don't strike me as the type to have others take care of something so personal Sheriff. I want to see if we can get prints off of anything.”

  “That won't be necessary.”

  “Why not?” Dana looked puzzled. “Oh, wait. I get it. You think you know who took those, don't you? Are they even related to either of our cases?”

  I started to answer her but then Beth came out on the deck.

  “Aunt Mel!” she yelled.

  I dropped Dana's hands and she sank back into the shadows. I'd forgotten about Cole. Guilt washed over me.

  “Coming sweetie!”

  I used my cell to call the gas station before I re-entered the house. I let Kris know what happened and I told her I was going to take Cole over to the ER at Genesis Medical Center. When I entered the house, Beth was on me immediately.

  “He says his head hurts Aunt Mel and he wanted some ibuprofen but I didn't know if he should have any.”

  “We're going to run over to the ER and get him checked out. We'll let the doc decide what he can and can't have. If you're going with us, let's go.”

  Kris got her backup to come in and close for her and she met us at the hospital. Cole was shaken up but otherwise pronounced healthy. The docs prescribed a couple of days of rest and warned him away from any more crazy stunts they didn't have ICD-9 codes for. He promised to behave but we all knew his promise would be forgotten and he would be on to something else in a few days’ time. That was Cole.

  When we finally got home, Kris and the kids went on to bed. I was mentally drained and I needed to unwind. I grabbed a beer from my small stash at the back of the fridge. I started to close the door but then I paused and reached in for another.

  I hadn't been sitting on the deck contemplating the stars for more than a couple of minutes when my hunch proved right and Dana joined me.

  “How's the boy?” she asked as she pointed at the second beer.

  I handed her the drink. “Cole is fine. He's a little banged up but he didn't get any more sense knocked into him, poor kid.” I changed the subject. “I figured you would be back around. You don't seem to give up easy.”

  “I'm glad to hear that you're starting to see things my way.”

  “Now don't go getting carried away. That was a nice way of saying that you're a very predictable sort of woman.”

  Dana laughed. “And you're just a cranky old broad!”

  “Who are you calling old?” When no answer other than more laughter materialized I turned the conversation back to why she was staking my place out in the first place. “You can go home. I'm safe here.”

  “So you do know who took the photos then?”

  “Same person that always does. My stalker of many years, Sally.”

  “Sally?”

  “Yep. Sally.”

  Dana raised an inquiring eyebrow that I could see even in the darkness that engulfed us.

  “She's probably out there now fuming as she tries to photograph us sitting here, in the dark, drinking a beer together.”

  Dana's head was on a swivel.

  “Relax. She's harmless. She's been stalking me from afar for several years.”

  “Why, pray tell, or do I even need to ask?”

  “Oh she's not a scorned lover or anything like that. She's a wannabe.”

  “Wannabe what?”

  “Lover, scorned lover. Take your pick.”

  “Did you ever date her?”

  “I was friends with her sister. Didn't know her – she didn't live here. She came around for the holidays one year and never left... moved in with her sister. Deb though she could use a friend, so she had us meet. After meeting her, I asked her out.

  Long story short, it was the worst date of my life and I never asked her out again but she would come looking for me. She followed me around like a puppy for months afterward. She wanted us to be friends and on and on. Then, when she realized I was seeing other women, the stalking started. It was pretty intense for a while but she's toned it down over the last few years. Now she comes and goes.”

  “The picture
s you got were of you alone, you with your sister and with your sister’s kids. You weren't with a woman or doing anything out of the ordinary. Don't you think those shots could have been from someone else, trying to send you a message?”

  “No. I really don't. This is the usual M.O. for her.”

  “You're pretty confident about that. You must have made quite an impression on that one date!”

  Her comment lightened the mood and I laughed. It felt good to laugh. “I guess you'll never know, will you?”

  “I'm not in the market for a date or for anything else anyway Ms. Crane. I'm a baggage loaded train wreck waiting to happen over here. Right now, my job is all consuming.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes. Now, I hate to keep coming back to beat the same dead horse but, speaking of my job, about those pictures?”

  “I just told you the whole sordid...”

  Dana interrupted. “I just want to send the whole mess to our lab and check for prints. If they all belong to your stalker, I'll be out of your hair. You can handle her as you see fit. If they don't belong to her, we've got a bigger problem on our hands.”

  I drew in a breath and let it out. She wasn’t going to give up. “Come on in. Let’s get this over with.”

  I led her from the deck on through the house to my den. I closed the door once we were in there. “Everyone else is in bed,” I said. “I don’t want to wake them.”

  Dana looked around. “This is quite a bit different from your office at the station.”

  “That’s because this is mine and that isn’t. I’m just occupying that office until a new Sheriff can be elected.”

  She inspected some family pictures on my wall. “Not planning to run for the position yourself?”

  “Nope. I like street work. You know, rounding up stray livestock and such.”

  “Listen, I apologize for that. I…”

  I waved her off.

  “The good old boy voters down here aren’t likely to elect somebody like me even if I did choose to run. I don’t apologize for the way I live my life to anyone.”

  “And you shouldn’t but, I think you’d be surprised at your popularity out there. You have a lot of respect from people in this county.”

  “And you know this how…”

  Arrrgh! What is that thing?” Dana, still looking around my office, had rounded my desk and spotted my full mount piebald deer in a lying position, head up, on the floor.