“Well, Jack, I want you to meet Joe Allen, my partner from Madison. With him here to keep his eye on me, I hope you’ll approve of the job we do for you.”
Jack acknowledged Joe and looked at his bandaged right shoulder, the eye motion explaining why he couldn’t extend a welcoming hand.
“Glad to meet you Joe, but wish it was under better circumstances.”
Joe nodded, and waved it off. “Sorry for your trouble Sheriff.”
“Maude, have you seen or heard anything that might give us a clue to why that thing happened out there?”
She could tell that Jack was avoiding mentioning anything about the actual murders because of his wife’s presence. Nodding her understanding, she replied in kind.
“No sir, I hope to get to the medical examiner and ask him about his early findings. You carry any influence with that man?”
“He’s a good man, Maude, but don’t expect him to go out on a limb for you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, and now if you’ll pardon me, we’ll take our leave and get on over there, see what we can find out.”
Jack closed his eyes against the knowledge that someone other than himself was running a crime scene investigation in his county, and issued a loud harrumph as assent that the job must go on.
Later, after leaving the hospital and sighing his relief to be gone from the sterile environment, Joe spoke up.
“Is he always that cheerful?”
“This is sure hard on him. I think it might be the same with me if someone from out of town took over my murder case.” Maude said, reflecting on the events of the morning.
“Well, let’s get some work done.” Joe ventured, eager to get started, eager to see what had happened to the victims.
The coroner did the job of medical examiner--true in many small counties. Walter Edmonds office was across from the hospital in an old building that the county had owned for a long time. Dust bunnies were in residence under the desk, and cobwebs hung about the corners of the building. County services were assigned to clean the buildings, but sometimes personal objections got in the way of the cleaner’s job obligations. Truth would have it, they didn’t stay overlong in the coroner’s office at night because of the nature of work that went on in the cold room one floor below.
Maude had been in police work many years and had seen the anomaly before. The coroner’s office was one of the last places to receive any work from the general services section of the county.
“Mr. Edmonds, I am Maude Rogers, here on the authority of Sheriff Jack Fuller, laid up in the hospital with a bum shoulder. This is my partner Joe Allen. Wonder if you could give me any information on the murders out there on Edwards Bay?”
The coroner was busy adding information to a file, but he looked up with a slight smile when Maude came in the room.
“I can tell you what I’ve found out, but it we don’t have our lab results back yet on the bodies.”
“I would appreciate what you can tell us,” she said.
“The man died from a gunshot wound to the head, but before he died he took a bad beating to his face. The woman was killed from a wound which punctured her heart. There were four wounds on her chest in a central location, but only one that was lethal. Interesting wounds, made by an instrument I can’t identify.”
“What kind of material?” Joe asked.
“Really can’t say at this time, but the shape and depth of the wounds seem to be consistent with the properties of a long chisel, or some similar instrument thicker than a knife blade. Unusual,” the coroner said as if in afterthought.
“Why is it unusual, Mr. Edmonds?” Maude interjected.
“Well, usually that type of wound would take a supreme amount of force because of its width. Ever looked at a chisel? They’re thick, and blunt on the end, maybe this one could have been sharpened, but if so, the intention was clearly to use it for a weapon. The killer would have struck the victim from above, one blow after the other to achieve the pattern of the wounds.”
“Have you ever seen those types of wounds before?” Maude asked quietly, hoping against the coroner’s assertion.
“As a matter of fact I have. It was a year or so ago, had a burglary here. Man was killed, had the same kind of wounds. Didn’t think much of it then, just seemed to be unusual. Never found the killer, figured him for someone passing through, looking for money. Funny thing is, the sheriff was troubled by it; couldn’t seem to let it alone, thought it was more than a robbery. You might ask him.”
“He mentioned something about a robbery. A jewelry store as I recall. That right?”
The coroner nodded, gazing off, lost in thought. “Yeah, I believe so.”
“To get back to today, Mr. Edmonds, can you tell us anything else?”
“Well, ma’am, as I said we don’t have the lab results back, but it does appear the woman might have been sexually assaulted. There was some tearing and bruising around the vaginal area. We did a swab for semen, but we’re waiting for results to come back.”
“Can you tell me about the woman’s hair? She appeared to have been scalped, or at least, partially.”
“That’s my take, too,” Edmonds said. “The layers of skin were peeled back from her head, taking the hair with it. It wouldn’t have killed her, but sure would have messed her up if she had lived. Now, if there is nothing else, I have to get back to work. The official report will be out when we get the results from the lab.”
Chapter 9
Maude was deep in thought, the conversation with the coroner still fresh in her mind, bothering her.
“Joe, what do you think? Any ideas?”
“Not yet, Maude; still too new to it. I would like to see the place where the victims were found, get a feel for what happened.”
“We can go down to Gandy’s and get a boat, as long as you know how to operate the motor. I’m going to sit in the boat and smoke my evening cigarette. But first I have to make a call to Lilly Ann and tell her we will be there tomorrow, not today as I had planned.”
Joe laughed. It was good to be back with his partner who cut him no breaks at all. He never had to guess what she was thinking or what kind of load he was going to carry; she laid it out for him from the get-go.
The trip to the lake was a ten-minute-drive from the west side of town, a trip that Maude used for introspection. She knew what she had seen in the marsh grass, but there was something bothering her about all of it, something off program. Why would the killers wait and take the couple out in the open, instead of taking advantage of the quiet room at the resort?”
“Something must have prevented it there in the privacy of the hotel room. Someone might have scared them away before they could complete their murderous task. I hate to think that the victims were meant to suffer the ignominy of being exposed to the elements for an even crueler reason. We need to see Ernest. He went to the resort and searched their room. Maybe he found something that explains some of it. We’ll go to the sheriff’s office when we get back.”
Gandy’s boat rentals was closed, with a sign out that said, “Be back in a few minutes.” Maude took the liberty of looking around while she was waiting. She assessed the beach, the lay of the land, and how the young couple must have enjoyed the early morning near the water. It was a beautiful place, she thought, with the sun on the water, reflecting light off the waves. She wondered what had drawn Aaron Dennis to the resort, whether someone had made the reservation for him, or had he done it himself. She pulled out her notebook and wrote the questions down to ask later.
“Hello, Maude Rogers, it is good to see you again. I see you’ve traded your traveling partner. Sorry about Jack, I heard he was shot.”
Sandy was a talker, for sure, can’t get a word in edge-wise when he is going at it. Maude waited for him to run out of breath before saying hello. She asked him about getting one of his boats to go back to the murder scene.
“No problem, but too bad the county boat was picked up already.” Sandy told her, “I�
�ll send the bill to the sheriff’s office. Choose the boat you want.”
“Do you know much about that part of the lake? Would there be any reason a stranger would know about that particular waterway?”
“I can’t think of any reason, it’s mostly an oyster harvester’s hidey hole; goes nowhere, just that little dead end pool down there. Fellow would have to know this country to find it on purpose.”
“Or watch someone else find it,” she said, thoughtfully.
Joe sang out, “Let’s go Maude, time’s wasting. Light up that cigarette. Your gondolier awaits.”
Maude laughed and then gave directions as Joe motored the little boat skillfully across the lake. She advised him to watch out for large rocks that made up part of the north shore. They found the narrow slip and entered it easily, with Maude admiring Joe’s expertise with the craft. True to her word she brought out her afternoon cigarette and lit it with her faithful butane lighter. Had it not been for a murder investigation, the trip would have been a pleasurable journey.
“Slow down, Joe,” she said suddenly. “It’s near here. See that little scrawny tree up there. That’s where they were. You have to tie off the rope to some grass or weeds on the bank.”
The grass was dry, an indication of the time of day to a person who studied the tides. Maude didn’t study them, but she remembered from her other trip to the murder site. She knew that they had a couple of hours at best before they had to leave the area or prepare to get wet. Stepping up, out of the boat was hard on her arthritic knees, but at least since the cortisone shot there was less pain with activity.
The huisache tree was still in last bloom, its skinny limbs providing almost no shade at all. Joe waited for Maude’s instruction before looking the place over.
“The tide has been in and out of here a couple of times. You won’t find anything, but I’ll show you where the bodies were laying. That dark spot on the tree was where her hair was hanging. The mangy polecat that had his fun with her and then killed her; showed her no respect at all. Shameful behavior from a man. He doesn’t deserve the cost of my bullets.”
“He would deserve mine.” Joe said. “Any footprints found?”
“One set, large boots, the kind men in construction wear, nothing unusual about them. They’re sold in dozens of stores in Texas. One thing though, the size of the boot; it must have been at least a fourteen. Deep ruts that lasted through tide water. So, a big man raped and killed the girl.
“The bullets in Aaron were .45 calibers. Big gun. Would have taken only one slug to kill him, but the assassin used two for good measure, or just because he enjoyed it.”
“Maude,” Joe said, “This was a hit. Right? You don’t think it was personal?”
“Don’t think so, but I could be wrong. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“What about the girl’s hair, wasn’t that personal?” Joe was thinking, trying to put it together. “Seems as though he was humiliating the girl.”
“Well, Joe, I’ve seen brutality from people given the chance to be kind, and I’ve seen kindness from some of the worst people I’ve dealt with. My guess is the hit was business, but the details were left to the killer’s discretion. We’re dealing with a really bad group. Besides the big boot print, there was a smaller one, either a female or a very small man. The print was on the outside of the killing sight, so an organizer, or someone who went along for fun.”
“A woman, you think?”
“Why not? Women can be just as vicious as men, sometimes worse. Seen enough? Let’s get back to Gandy’s. We’re not getting very far on this case.”
“What about that old man that lives out here?” Joe asked, maneuvering himself into the boat seat next to the motor. “Think he saw anything?”
“Not really. Even if he did, he can’t remember.”
The water in the slip was starting to rise--only a small amount—but it was an indication the tide was coming in and another day was almost gone. Maude was frustrated. Too much time had been spent on people that had nothing to do with the murder.
“Joe, I want to go to the university and ask some questions. Whatever happened to these people probably started there. We can stay with my niece. I’ll call when we get back to shore and I get a signal on my phone.”
Gandy’s was busy, with fishermen showing up for hamburgers and the fixings. Maude nudged Joe, “Hungry?”
“I could eat,” the young detective said with a grin.
The inside of the small store was packed with people, the odors coming off the fishermen and oystermen in great waves. Maude stepped back outside, willing to wait for the crowd to ease up.
A man with a bent brim cap, stating “Fishermen do it in the water”, sat alone at one of the three picnic tables near the store. He nodded at Maude and tipped his cap to her in an old time greeting. “Howdy ma’am. Are you that woman working with Sheriff Jack?”
“Yes, Maude Rogers, homicide detective. What can I do for you?” she asked, extending her hand.
“Well, I heard the sheriff was down here asking questions about them two killed out there on the Slip. A sad thing, them being so young and all,” the man said, returning Maude’s grasp.
“Who are you, sir, and how do you know about those people?” Maude sat down at the table across from the cap-wearer.
“Name’s Jessie James,” the man said, with a little embarrassment, “I know, my mama named all her kids like that. Brother is Frank, sister is Etta. Mama could get rowdy with enough Jack Daniels.” The man seemed proud of his mama and her foolishness, a fact that Maude thought was a fine thing.
“Okay, Jessie, tell me what you know about this murder.”
“Well, nothing ma’am, about the murder, that is. But I saw them two out on the lake before they was killed. I was fishing, something I do from time to time with my rod and reel, though most of the time I use trot lines in the river. That day was supposed to be good weather, so I took my equipment and went out on the lake that morning about ten, ten-thirty. I saw that boat of Gandy’s when those two first came out. Nice looking folks; seemed happy. At least she did.”
“She seemed happy? How did he seem?”
“Looked to me like he was humoring her, but not particularly liking what he was doing. You know how you see folks, all laughing and smiling when someone’s watching, then their faces change when the other folks look off. That’s how he was. Seemed like he wanted her to be happy, but he was worried about something.”
“My boat was anchored down, so they got ready to move on down the lake, over toward the north shore, and I wondered what he had in mind, but it was about that time I got a big bite on my hook. Fishing with cut bait, you get some good size fish off the bottom,” James quickly explained to the law woman.
“So you didn’t see them anymore?” Maude asked.
“Matter of fact, I did. They turned the boat around, at least the fella did, the woman she just laid in the boat with her feet out in the water.”
“Then what happened?”
“Well, he caught the wind at his back, and picked up some speed with them paddles, and headed toward the shoreline, back west. He found the Slip, most people don’t, because it kind of hides behind a curve in the beach. Last I saw him he was pulling the rope on that motor, and disappeared around the curve.”
“Did you see anyone else out there about that time?”
“No, ma’am. I pulled in my big fish, an eight pound channel cat, and figured that was supper, so I went back to my truck. I park down at Jackson where there’s a free boat dock.”
“Did you see anyone down there when you got back?”
“Matter of fact I did. A big SUV, one of them crossovers was parked beside a brown pickup. Had that tinted glass. Didn’t notice if anyone was in either. I was ready to go so I didn’t pay much attention.”
“Jessie, did you notice anything different about the SUV. Anything that might help identify it later?’
“No ma’am, sure didn’t, except, a tiny little th
ing. When I was getting my boat out, winching it out on the trailer, I was looking at the back of the SUV. Noticed a sticker on the window. Little round one, a kind of curled up snake. Funny part of it was the snake was red. That’s all. Sorry I can’t be more help. Been waiting for Sheriff Jack to show up so I could tell him what I saw.”
“Jessie, you gave us some important details. Don’t know if it will be what we need to catch those murderers, but I believe it will be very helpful.”
Maude shook his hand, thanked him again, and went inside the store, noting that the fishy smell was just as bad, even with most of the people gone. Joe had been standing inside after placing the order for both of them, but he hadn’t missed Maude’s exchange with the skinny man in the baseball cap.
“Learn anything?” he asked, handing her a burger and fries with lots of ketchup.
“Let’s eat outside and I’ll tell you what I found out.”
The food was hot and good, just as before, with the deep fryer pumping out crisp potatoes that begged for ketchup.
Maude was eating and explaining what Jessie James had told her when she looked up to see an elderly couple headed for Gandy’s store with a teenage girl tagging behind. She had a cell phone in her hand and her thumbs were busy sending messages by text. The girl didn’t see Maude at first in her absorption with the small screen in front of her. She looked up about then, and recognizing Maude, she slipped on a rock and went down in the mud of a pot hole near the outside water faucet.
Maude nodded at the girl lying in misery on the wet ground. Memories of the freeway from Madison had reminded the teen that it was indeed a small world.
“Hello, young lady. Let me help you up from there,” Joe said, reaching down, offering his hand. “Got a little mud on you,” he said straight-faced. “Joe Allen,” he said, introducing himself to the older couple and the girl.
The police shield in his pocket came out in one smooth motion. He had practiced it several times. The couple walked over to where he and Maude had been sitting and began talking.
The Maude Rogers Murder Collection Page 36
