The Maude Rogers Murder Collection

by Linda L. Dunlap

  The entrance became clearer as they moved closer, the sheer sides of the natural caverns reaching high above their heads. Maude believed that the daytime light would show beautiful scenery beneath their feet and around them, but in the darkness there was no beauty, only caution and fear. The far eastern sky had begun to lighten, a prelude to dawn and natural light. She was tempted to wait a while until the earth finished its nightly turn, and the sun came up, but they were committed to the task at hand. There was no stopping or turning back. She motioned to the two men to train their flashlights on the cave entrance, and as one, all three beams lit up the large opening into the deep caverns. The entrance was clear, without any sign of human or animal presence to greet them, but Maude knew she was in the right place this time. She breathed a little sigh of relief that they would not be attacked by anyone lying in wait as they entered the cave.

  Ernest whispered, “Miss Maude, do you want me to go first since I know this here cave? Me and my kids have all been here a few times, so it might be better if someone who knows the way goes through first.”

  There was logic in what the deputy said, but Maude hated to put him into the line of fire in case the killer was hiding inside. Still, it did make more sense for him to lead, instead of her, or Joe, who didn’t know anything about the interior passages of the cave.

  “Okay, Ernest, but don’t take any chances. If he’s in there, and is of a mind to do it, he’ll put a hole right through your skull.”

  The outside darkness was nothing in comparison to the inside of the cavern where no light reflected. The dungeons of old held that kind of darkness. Maude was fearful for Mary Ellen if she was still alive. What kind of terror had she suffered, and could she move away from it back to a normal existence? Shaking her head with dread, Maude moved forward, with Joe bringing up the rear, watching their backs. Walking was much easier on the table top part of the outcropping of rock.

  A marble-smooth surface lay just under the layers of dust and dirt. Shining her light both right and left, she searched for any tell-tale signs of human traffic in the dust, but there wasn’t any. Maude knew a possibility existed that she had miscalculated again, and Mary Ellen was suffering somewhere else, but instinct kept reassuring her the killer had been there. The drive to step further into the darkness was stronger with each step.

  After Ernest passed through the opening without incident he breathed a little easier, feeling more secure each minute that nothing happened. The thought of his kids at home gave him comfort, two boys and a girl, all teenagers who definitely loved their daddy but hardly ever had any time for him. His wife was always too busy with her sewing and quilting to wonder what he might be doing, yet Ernest was sure of her love and concern for him.

  When he picked up the stuff from the house she was still awake, cutting out pieces to sew back together for a new pieced-top she and the girls at church would finish for a nice big quilt. The church made a little money by selling the quilts, but not enough to account for all the work in them. She didn’t seem to care though, just went right back with a new one each time she was done. Ernest wished there was something he liked that well. Maybe the boredom of the job wouldn’t be so bad if at the end of the week he could be busy with a hobby. One thing for sure, he was not bored working with Miss Maude.

  “Yeah, I think I’m gonna find myself a hobby.” he said aloud, grinning to himself.

  “Ernest,” Maude whispered, “Are you okay? I hear you groaning.”

  “Yes ma’am, I am just talking to myself.”

  “Then cut it out, you sound like you’re hurt.”

  “Yes ma’am, I will.”

  “And quit saying, ‘Yes ma’am”.

  “Umm, okay ma’am,” he whispered.

  Joe was fidgety, blind to what was behind him, and unsure of what to do next. They still had the ropes around their waists as security against getting lost in the cave’s pure darkness, but the blackness behind him was upsetting.

  Ernest led them into the depths of the first room, his light revealing nothing other than cave crystals. Maude kept her flashlight darting about the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bad guy, but it wasn’t in the cards in those early morning hours. Whatever, or whoever’s aura they had all sensed on the walkway bridge had gone, or his personality had diminished. The rooms so far were empty.

  They continued to walk, watching for overhangs, and missing them, feeling the clang of the hard-hats against low-lying rock formations in above the path. A telltale odor was coming from somewhere in the caverns. They all smelled it as the group progressed further-the unmatched odor of death and the rot of once-living tissue. Just inside the second room they found the remains of a dead raccoon along with cat tracks. Off to the side there was also human shoe prints in the dust of the cave’s floor.

  Maude took a moment, hitched up her jeans, wiped her eyes and carried forward, knowing they were on the right track and the killer had been there. Mary Ellen was close. Other times in her life Maude had been in a similar position. Losing people was terrible. First, Paul died, such a waste. She had loved him to distraction, but that wasn’t enough to keep him safe in the jungles of Viet Nam. Her memory had faded in some things, but not in the whirlwind courtship and marriage of her youth.

  She had been twenty years old, finished with her second year at the university. Rambunctious and daring, she was not afraid of most things and lived life to extremes. Pretty, oh yes, she had been quite pretty, her body young and responsive. Paul Rogers was visiting the state university in Oklahoma, full of plans for his future.

  The couple had met on the school grounds when she enrolled for her junior year. For Maude, it was love at first sight. The young man was tall, with black curls that fell across his forehead, brown eyes that opened into his soul, and a smile so compelling that she lost her heart within the first five minutes. They started dating the next day, a full-on courtship that lasted less than two months, and then he popped the big question. She had only one answer, “Yes.”

  They were married two weeks from the day, with Grace standing beside her, and Paul’s friend as the best man. What Maude didn’t know was that a letter had come to her new husband, inviting, no, insisting that he represent his country at the local military recruitment center within the same two weeks.

  The day they were married was heaven, the culmination of her secret dreams. She could hardly wait for the ceremony to end before stripping off her white dress and then pulling her new husband down to the rickety hotel bed. She found fulfillment she had never expected.

  He was gone within three months, but they stored a lifetime of love within those days and hours left for them. Paul was brash, had threatened to go to Canada to avoid the draft, to take her with him and live the life of a draft-dodger, but the idea was too foreign for both of them. Later she wished they had gone.

  He never returned from Viet Nam, for some north Viet Cong soldiers claimed the best part of him. They shot his body full of holes, and left him on the cold, wet ground. The military man in dress uniform told her, sure, but it never really seemed real, until later when the rest of her world fell apart.

  Maude wanted to weep for her losses, but it was not to be, there was a much more pressing need now. She knew in her heart that Mary Ellen was beyond saving. A white-hot rage filled her. She wanted to tear the kidnapper apart for taking the girl. Murderous thoughts filled her mind, of all the torment she would put the man through when they got him, but under all of that, a sadness of intense proportion almost brought her to her knees.

  Casting her feelings aside, she plodded on, following Ernest around the crystal formations and over the small rocks that had broken off and lay in the pathway. Finally, the deputy led them into the room, the dreadful room where that sweet, wonderful, young woman hung upon a makeshift cross, chained at the waist, attached in such a way that alone, she would never have escaped her bondage.

  The killer had left generator-powered spotlights trained upon Mary Ellen’s naked body, ready
to be switched to the on position. The result was a garishly lit, macabre scene for the detectives and all others who would come. A note was beside the body, just three words. “You’re too late”. Maude believed his glee from the staged event must have been over the top.

  Maude removed the safety rope from around her waist and sat down with her head in her hands, unwilling to look upon the face that she knew so well. Eyes that had been bright and intelligent were left as bloodied, vacant holes. The sweet smile of her mouth was gone forever, replaced by the handiwork of the killer. Her long auburn hair was tangled, dusty, probably from being dragged through the cave, struggling against the madman intent upon her destruction.

  There was reason for Maude to believe that the young woman had been dead for at least a day. She believed he had killed Mary Ellen shortly after making the obscene screensaver, for her body was hanging in the same position. Possibly her death came from the large knife protruding from her back, an assault she didn’t see coming. Maude could only hope that at the end the killer had shown the girl some mercy.

  Joe was beside himself, sick with helpless rage, seeing another young woman whose life had been ended by the same madman who killed those girls in the apartments on East Avenue. The latest victim was taken as a direct assault upon Joe’s partner in a cold-blooded attempt to get her attention. Why, what attraction did Maude hold for the killer? He was obviously obsessed, but why? What kind of sick person would use violence, thinking it would endear him to another?

  Joe took it upon himself to leave the crime scene, using the best of the flashlights to find his way back out of the caverns until his phone showed a weak signal. He placed a call to Lieutenant Patterson’s cell phone. When Patterson answered, Joe reported what they had found and was told to notify the local coroner’s office where arrangements could be made to ship Mary Ellen’s body back to Madison. The boss added that the two detectives had done well using the small amount of information they had.

  He also said that a group from the Madison lab would be there within two hours, regardless of jurisdiction, and Joe and Maude were to secure the scene and wait for them. After he disconnected the phone, Joe looked out beyond the cave into the distance. In the interim time since they had arrived at the park, the morning sun had begun to rise over the river cliffs, creating a picture of spectacular beauty in blue and gold, defying any human tragedy to steal its glory.

  Chapter 14

  The two hour wait was spent outside the cave overlooking the river where they could hear the fast-running water below. Joe managed to put his fear aside and enjoy the quiet. Maude stationed herself in the shade with her feet hanging off the overhang. She asked Joe if he would help her back on her feet when the time came to leave. Arthritis had her knees hurting like crazy after the walk up the steep incline.

  “We make a pair don’t we, Joe? You can’t handle heights, and me, I have parts that no longer work very well. It’s a shame you don’t have a younger partner. I know the rest of the guys give you a lot of trouble about working with me, and I have to tell you, I don’t really blame them. I’m nearer sixty than fifty, and can’t quit work, even if I wanted to, but I will try to keep up my end. You’re a good man to have around, and I’m sorry I talked you into this wild, middle of the night trip. It could have been done during the light of day.”

  Joe sat quietly, listened to Maude talk, and then told her that she was wrong, that he felt privileged to be working alongside her. He wanted to know what she thought had happened up there, where did the killer go, and how did he get away. From all of his profiling days, it appeared they had a very unstable man who had no fixed targets, that he seemed to be killing for the fun of it without caring who was next, and that made him more dangerous.

  Maude agreed, and said she was worried that the killer might get away unless they got some real clues to his identity. She said that the equipment left in the cave needed to be looked at. Some of it was expensive and might have been purchased in Buena Vista, and she thought she would talk to the boss, see if they could be spared a couple of days to roam around the small burb and ask questions. She walked away to find a phone signal, stopping in mid-step to give Joe the high sign.

  A short while later she found him again.

  “Bad news, partner. Boss says you have to go home. He said we had other cases on our desks that were important and needed work. I told him we both needed to be here, but he had the last word. You’re going home.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair. You get stuck with the door-knocking and I get to go home to my good bed,” Joe said, making the best of it.

  “Yeah, poor luck for me. We could get this done a lot faster with both of us knocking,” Maude answered. “Listen Joe, since you have to go back, see if you can get back to the desk of one of the lab boys for the report on the blood from the robe.”

  “Also, check on the homeless victim and find out her story, what happened to her. We need to get that one cleared. Be good time for you to work by yourself a little. Find out more about how she died, and who had reason to want her dead.” Maude went on, “We’ve been sidetracked by a lunatic who kills and maims women, but the boss is right, we have other cases.” As an afterthought, she added, “And Joe, when you get back there, find out everything the coroner knows about Mary Ellen.”

  When the lab techs arrived, they couldn’t believe they had been dragged all the way from Madison to some cliff-hole above the river, especially so early in the morning. Joe rolled his eyes at Maude, and began to get his stuff together to make the trip back.

  In darkness the climb had been frightening, but in sunlight, the distance to the river below seemed to go on and on. Joe was terrified by the closeness of the path to land’s end and its sudden drops into nothingness. The water flowed at least seventy-five feet below the path in places, and without handrails near the edge, Joe grasped whatever was available as he sidled down the path. Maude held out her hand, offering support where he needed it.

  She understood how some fears cripple a person, even though the affected one might put up an excellent fight. She wondered if Mary Ellen had been in such a position before the knife went through her back and pierced her kind and gentle heart. Maude grieved over the girl, never having had a daughter or a sister. She had felt a real liking for the young woman whose life she had shared for a short time. Part of her grief was guilt, and no amount of words could change that.

  The ride into Buena Vista was lonely, with Joe staying near the scene to ride back to Madison with the techs from the lab. Ernest went home early, for there was no reason to wait. Besides, too many cops and technicians were crowding the small path, trying to get to the scene. Maude had decided to avoid being questioned by local law enforcement until she had reported to her lieutenant, a procedural matter she always tried to uphold. When she returned to Madison, she would write a report with the details of the incident for Patterson.

  Her first stop when she got back to town was going to be for food. Her last meal had been the tacos around midnight. It was eleven o’clock in the morning and Maude was starved and almost out of unfiltereds. She checked her package and found two bent and twisted cigarettes.

  “Guess its food second, cigarette stop first.” She muttered.

  The sheriff’s office was open, with the lights on and at least two people walking back and forth across the floor of the small room. There was no sign of Ernest, hopefully he had gone home to his bed content in his belief that his job was done for the night. Maude was pleased with the man and impressed with his dedication. She hoped in the future there might be a time she could return the favor and give him a hand.

  The morning’s excitement had brought out all manner of people and Maude wondered why the sheriff hadn’t shown up with the rest of the law enforcement people. Some highway patrol officers from the next county over had been on scene along with a couple of park rangers.

  Possibly, professional embarrassment had kept the sheriff away. An out-of-town city cop finding a dead body in a cl
osed-down county park was difficult to explain away. The saving grace was that Ernest Garrison, Deputy, was involved in the find. Maude wanted to stop and thank the sheriff for allowing Ernest to lead them through the maze of the caverns. Without his help the trip would have been a great deal more difficult.

  Obviously there were other offices in the county building, possibly the justice of the peace court where citizens could be seen quickly by a magistrate and pay their fines for traffic violations. She hoped that Sheriff Biden was as amiable as his deputy, and inclined to talk a little. The other person that had been visible through the front door was no longer there. Probably a clerk had been passing information to the sheriff.

  Maude entered through the familiar glass door and pulled her shield from her pocket. She stepped forward toward the desk, sticking out her right hand as a way of introducing herself. The man behind the desk continued sitting in the broken down, rolling office chair, frowning a bit as he listened to the woman cop spout her name. Maude could tell from years of experience that this man didn’t cotton to women in law enforcement, but since he was in no position to have any opinion of her, she thought, too bad for him and his attitude.

  So much for him being like Ernest; still, she gave it her best shot, smiling a little, polite, refraining from cussing and smoking, though her nicotine habit was crying out.

  Sheriff Biden seemed a little too superior for Maude’s liking, not getting any better as the minutes ticked off. When he did start talking, it appeared that in his macho brain, Maude was non-essential personnel, no doubt riding along with a male lead detective who tolerated her presence and waited while she brought him coffee. She could feel a slow burn starting in her belly, the same belly that had been without food and sleep for too long to tolerate a red-necked, prejudiced A-hole, who didn’t know his scrotum from his belt buckle.