“Such a tragedy, their life cut down like that,” the coroner said. “We’ll see what they tell us in autopsy.” He watched as the lab techs secured the bodies for travel and then carried them on stretchers to the helicopter.
“Can they both fit in that small bird?” Ernest whispered to Maude. “You know, with the pilot and the coroner. It’s going to be crowded.”
“They’ll be crowded, but those two won’t mind.” She said, dropping to her knees again, looking at the place where the victims had lain. “Help me here Ernest, let’s see what we might have missed.”
“Okay, Miss Maude. Let me get my flashlight, and we’ll check in that grass, before the others get here.”
The search proved fruitless, reassuring Maude that they were not dealing with amateurs. The murderers had cleaned up behind themselves. The blood spatter on the clothing would prove to be from the victims. The men would have worn gloves, covering the lines and swirls of fingers and palms, each particular to only one person. Add the tidal waters, and the chance for prints were slim to none. Maude had been down that road before, working against clever people who made it their business to outsmart law enforcement officers.
Sheriff Jack got back to Maude after the helicopter took off with the bodies of the victims. The group that was left seemed preoccupied with getting their equipment together for the trip back across the lake. “Want to go ask a few questions?” he inquired of Maude.
“Yeah, I’m ready. The mosquitoes are really getting bad out here. I must have slapped my own face a dozen times trying to get away from them.”
“Which boat we going in, Sheriff?” Ernest asked.
“Well now, I want you to take the speedboat, and get back to the office after all these folks leave. See if everything is running as it should. Go home when your shift is up. There will be plenty to do tomorrow, I guarantee you.”
Ernest was disappointed to be left out of the trip with Maude and the sheriff.
“Tomorrow morning,” Jack said, “You get your tablet and go to that resort, find out everything you can about these two, gather up all the evidence from their room, talk to the maids. Get plenty of pictures. I’ll call the lab and get them to go out there with you. See if anyone came to see either one of the victims during the days they spent there. Ernest, think you can handle all that?”
“Yes sir,” the deputy replied, “I can rightly take care of that--might even start my questioning today.”
“Which way we headed, Jack?” Maude had approached the sheriff on his left.
“Well, Maude, the way I figure it, the boat is not too far away. Only a fool would tow a boat away from here and take it out in the bay. They must have left it near the banks, maybe tied it off, but most likely they left it to drift. We’ll motor down there and look around, then get on up to see Old Man Billings. It’s a little walk, are you sure you’re up to it?”
“Sure, Jack, let’s go. I need a little bit of distraction from the picture of that girl still planted in my head. She’s not much younger than my niece Lilly Ann; seemed like I could almost see her there.”
The trip to the open bay seemed fast in the boat, and Maude was glad for the wind in her face as they motored quickly down the slip, back toward the bay where the shore and the inlet met. There in a deep channel, the water was calm between the tides. A few large rocks lay along the bank, their source a constant mystery to the locals and the geologists who had studied Edwards Bay. The boulders and cliffs weren’t supposed to be there, any more than the lost pines were supposed to be in Bastrop County. Their presence was another fluke accorded to Texas.
“Sheriff, is that the rental boat up there alongside that other old boat? It’s laying at the edge of the marsh grass beyond those rocks. Maybe they both floated there during higher water.”
“Yep. Looks that way.” Jack said, maneuvering the speed boat up against the shore. “See if you can catch on to something and wrap that rope around it. We’ll get out here and start walking. Can’t be gone long”, he cautioned. “The tide will start in here in a few hours, and we could be stranded on the shore.”
“There’s a post that someone hammered into the ground, a couple in fact. It appears that the boats up there against the grass are tied too,” Maude said.
Grunting, she leaned out of the boat and tied off the painter, or tie-rope. The water was sloshing where the aluminum boat had caused the waves to ripple against the shore, a thing that worried Jack more than it did Maude. She had her tennis shoes on. His Harley brand engineer boots, a leftover from an earlier passion, were still shined, and only slightly muddied. It appeared they were about to get wet.
“Left my Wellies in my truck,” Jack grumbled. “Damn. Guess I’ll remember them next time.”
Maude never knew how to read Jack, for his unsmiling face never changed, even when he appeared to be cracking a joke, a characteristic that puzzled all who met Jack Fuller the first time.
She jumped out of the boat after it was tied to keep from appearing as an invalid who had to slide over the edge, otherwise Jack might wonder how she was managing to hold down a job in the police agency back home. The ground underneath her feet jarred the bad joints in her hips, but she felt fine afterwards. A week prior to her visit to Lilly’s Maude had made a trip to a bone doctor and received a shot in both knees. It hadn’t healed the pain, just made it easier to live with. The cortisone delayed knee surgery, an event she was hoping to put off as long as possible.
“Glad you can do that, for I can’t,” Jack said, sliding out of the boat on his belly, finding solid ground for his feet. Bad knees,” he added.
“I think we can head out right here and then veer east, toward the Gulf, staying close to the shoreline. The ground is going to get farther away from the water as we go, you’ll see we get a ways above sea level at Billings’ place.”
“Does he own this land?” Maude asked, seeing the shack in the distance.
“No more than you and me own it. He just staked his cabin there. He doesn’t bother anybody. Every so often, someone new from the Corps comes around and wants to move the old man out, but Theodore must still carry some influence. He’s still here. They say he has a pile of money somewhere, but you can bet it isn’t here on this rocky ground.”
“He has a pretty good view from up there,” Maude noted. “Maybe he saw something.”
“Don’t count on him remembering it, even if he did. I’m hoping we can get something out of him, but I don’t expect much.”
“Hey Billings,” Sheriff Jack yelled. “Theodore Billings, Sheriff Jack Fuller here.”
The door to the small, one room shack opened slowly, and two bushy eyebrows peeked around the edge. “What do you want?” the old man asked.
“Just talk, to say howdy. This lady is Maude Rogers, a detective from over at Madison.”
“Hello madam,” the old man said. He made his way toward her, exposing a tobacco streaked gray and white bird’s nest that began on his chin and grew into his striped overall tops. “Don’t get any ladies up here.”
“Glad to meet you, Mister Billings,” she said with her hand outstretched.
Billings reached out and took her hand, unsure of what she wanted. She stood for a minute and then took her hand back, fighting off an urge to spit on it and wipe it on her jeans.
“Say Theodore, did you see that boat down there parked next to yours?” Jack asked the old man the direct question, hoping to break through his memory problems.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Is it mine?”
“No, Theodore, it belongs to Sandy Gandy up near the resort. It’s a rental.”
“Don’t remember. Maybe I saw it.”
“Well, never mind that. Did you see anything else going on yesterday?”
“Killed a rattler with my shotgun,” the old man said. “Nearly six feet.”
“Yeah, I know Theodore. But that was last year. We’re looking into some murders took place down there on the slip. You know anything about it? Looks like you have
some fresh oysters over there in a bucket. Maybe you were down there, gathering a few.”
Billing’s eyes got a little brighter for a minute, then the light faded and he looked off toward the water. “Maybe. Don’t know.”
“Well if you do know something, I’d appreciate it if you came down to the office and told me about it. Give me a call and I’ll send Ernest out to pick you up.” Jack said, already looking back toward the place where they had landed the boat. “We’re going have some boys looking at your boat, so don’t get excited. They won’t be stealing it.”
“Okay.” The old man said, moving toward his rocking chair. The mud on his overalls was obvious to both Maude and Jack.
“That how you got muddy, getting your dinner?”
“Muddy?” Billings asked. The vacant look in his eyes was more telling than any words.
“Well, let’s get along Maude. We’ll do no good here,” Jack grumbled.
They walked for short while toward the boat. “What’s wrong with him?” Maude could tell that Jack knew some of the man’s history.
“Brain tumor. They say it can’t be fixed. Theodore has a son, but won’t live with him, runs away. He’s been staying around here a while. The locals watch out for him. Make sure he has food. The son comes around once a week, brings his boy down to visit, drops him off for a few hours. Good kid, about ten. Just a matter of time for the old man, and that shack is where he wants to be.”
“I’ve seen worse places and worse ways to die,” Maude said thoughtfully.
Chapter 5
The water was somewhat higher when they returned to the shore where they had left the boat, but it was still dry where the other boats were situated. Jack had called a couple of the lab techs back out to photograph the boats and look for prints that might still be on the boats and the oars but mainly on the pull-start of the motor. The edges of the seats were black with powder when the technicians had finished their work. Photographs, prints, and samples of fibers would soon be on the way to the lab.
Maude lit one of her unfiltereds and sat back on the front seat of the boat, thinking about what they had found out. She and Jack had agreed that Billings’ boat needed to be printed because of the old man’s muddy clothing. He had been somewhere near the water during the past several hours.
Though neither of them ever considered the old man as a suspect, he might have seen something, or been near the crime scene. If he had seen any part of the killings, he could be in danger from the murderers. From the evidence of violence visited upon the dead couple, the law enforcement officers knew the killers were brutal, and would kill again if there was even a hint of a witness.
It was time to go, the lab equipment had already been loaded and the large boat carrying the equipment was motoring out and away from the north shore of Edwards Bay. Maude finished her cigarette and spied Jack with a cigar between his teeth, taking the occasional puff, although he seemed to be rationing the amount of smoke going into his lungs. She watched him for a while and then nodded when he met her eyes.
“Trying to quit--my wife wants me to stop. She hates cigars.”
“It’s hard to do,” she said, commiserating. “I’m down to four cigarettes a day. Some days it’s not enough. Today is one of those days. I’ll suffer later.”
The trip back was fast, and soon Maude spied the county four-by-four vehicle that was parked at the boat dock next to Gandy’s Rentals.
“No sense loading the boat on the trailer. Probably be going back out there. We’ll pick it up later.” Jack said matter-of-factly. “Want to get something to eat? I’m starved.”
“Sure, how about that place of Gandy’s? Food any good?”
“It’ll do, and I need to ask Sandy a few questions. You may have one or two of your own.”
The boat rental store was small, about an eight by ten room, with a front deli cabinet, its shelves loaded with different packaged food items. A plywood countertop with a swinging door led into the cook’s part of the room.
The grill in the back corner was hot and smoky, the grease from several hamburger patties splattering the tile covered wall behind it as they sizzled and spit. A cash register from the sixties sat in the front corner where the cook could easily drop money into it as the customer paid his bill. An old time Lance cookie jar with a metal top was filled with packages of peanuts, crackers, and a few pieces of beef jerky. The small counter space along the back of the room was the work area where the onions were sliced and the burgers put together.
“What’ll you have Sheriff Jack?” The cook asked, flipping the patties on the grill.
“Couple of burgers; some fries if you have them.”
“No fries, the deep fryer went out this week. Waiting to get it fixed. Give you some chips.”
“Have to do. This is Maude Rogers, detective from over at Madison, visiting a while. Maude, this is Sandy, chief cook and boatman.”
“Pleased to meet you, it smells good in here,” Maude told him, smiling into the man’s blue eyes.
“Likewise. There’s a couple of chairs you can pull up to the counter there, unless you want to eat outside.”
“This will do,” Jack said, pulling up the two chairs. “Like to ask you some more about those two that took your boat out.”
“Understand you found them that took it.” Sandy said, turning to look at the lawman.
“Aye, we did. Sorry state, that. Did they seem nervous to you when they took the boat?”
“No. Not at all. Seemed to be on a lark, picnic and all. Happy, at least she seemed that way.” Sandy said, lifting the two patties, laying each on the mayonnaise side of a sesame seed bun. “Pickles, lettuce, tomato, onion?”
“All of it.” Maude said. “The man, Aaron, he didn’t seem too happy?”
“Not like she did,” Sandy said, handing over two paper plates with the identical burgers. “He seemed to be thinking about something. Not nervous, just kind of distracted.”
“You have baked chips?”
“Yes ma’am. Gandy’s has it all.”
“Except fries.” Jack grumbled, biting into his food, the stream of grease and mayonnaise dripping onto the plate beneath the sandwich. “Good burger.”
Maude tried her burger and announced it to be superior, then asked another question. “Did you see any other strangers on the beach during the morning or early afternoon? Anyone else wanting to rent a boat?”
“No, they were my only customers for the day. Off-season. I’m not usually down here except early in the morning and about this time of evening. The fishermen get coffee, little breakfast--hungry when they come back in.”
“Do you remember any strangers buying food in the afternoon?”
“Nah. Just the locals. They come around for the burgers, colas.”
“Who was your last customer after you called the office?” Jack asked, wiping his mouth on a small square of paper.
“Let’s see, there was a woman, didn’t know her. She bought a bottle of water. Small, dark hair, about thirty five. I remember her because she was classy. Lipstick, tight pants. Looked like money. Got in an SUV, one of those big ones. Surprised me, I thought it would be a Porsche.”
“Don’t suppose you noticed the license on the truck?” Jack asked, his face absent of emotion.
“I looked, but didn’t see the numbers. Lots of mud on the bumper, license. Wouldn’t have remembered it anyway. Barely remember my own name most of the time.” Sandy said good-naturedly.
“Thanks for the food, your money’s on the counter. Your boat is down at the slip, I’ll get Ernest to tow it over here. You’ll need to wash it, no blood, just fingerprint powder. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this to yourself, Sandy, at least for a while.”
“No problem Sheriff; this stuff isn’t good for business. Nice to meet you Maude. Get tired of running with this guy, you can always come back. I keep the coffee pot on.”
Maude nodded, her thoughts far away, back at the university where the dead man had a position of im
portance. She wondered again what the doctor did for the government. Sometimes that hush-hush stuff could get a person into a deep well of trouble. Aaron Dennis just might have brought his trouble to Edwards Bay. She also wondered if the dark-haired woman who came to Gandy’s had any connection.
“Say Jack, how many boat docks around the lake, the public ones?”
“Well there’s this one, then there’s one over at Jackson Park, about a mile by car, about a quarter mile by lake.”
“Any ice houses, stores, or cabins over there?”
“No, just some wilderness camp spots. No water or electric. Hikers use it mostly. The beach is muddy. Kids don’t like it there for swimming.”
“Think we could drive by there and look it over? Whoever killed that couple had to dock somewhere. If it’s a private dock, then we have a lot of footwork to find it, but we might get lucky. Those folks who made the trip to kill that couple don’t seem to me to be locals.”
“Sure, Maude. It’s on the way to the office.”
“I brought my vest. It’s in my truck at your office. Wish I had it now. I have a bad feeling that I might need it before this thing is over,” Maude said grimacing.
The road from Gandy’s to the park was nothing more than a two-lane trail, lined with tall, brown grass, and weeds. Cows grazed along the road, taking advantage of the grass that covered the area. There weren’t any fences, and Jack said the rancher that owned the cows had given the county a right of way to come and go to the park. It was temporary, and could be withdrawn at any time the rancher decided to call a halt to strangers on his land. Cow pies were in abundance, some of them still wet as the truck squashed them under the wheels.
Several small, thin, Mexican sycamore, huisache, and mesquite covered the water line of the western end of Edwards Bay, the thorny limbs of the huisache showing off their last yellow blooms in the mild winter weather. They reminded Maude of the murder scene.
Jack silenced the motor of the large vehicle as they neared the end of the road and came to a quick stop on the unpaved road. The evening was over, the sun low on the horizon. “Let’s try to be quiet. Someone might have been left behind to keep tabs on us.”
The Maude Rogers Murder Collection Page 32
