by Levi Fuller
“First,” Margo said. “I want to apologize. I didn’t mean to scare you. I should have called ahead. But I just assumed your husband told you about us. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.”
The woman wiped away a tear and nodded. “I’m Donna Marie. I’m sorry about the gun. I don’t get many visitors.”
“No harm done. If you don’t mind, I’d like to take you back twenty years, to when Mandy died. Is that all right?”
Donna nodded.
“As I said, I don’t want to upset you, but you do remember her, right?”
“She was a pretty girl. She played volleyball.”
“Yes, she did. Your husband coached her. I’m guessing you saw her play some?”
“I used to go to all the games. That was before.”
“Before what?”
“Before the change.”
“What change?”
“I don’t remember exactly anymore. I’ve stopped remembering.”
Margo wondered just how sick Donna was. If she suffered from mental issues, then she couldn’t fully trust anything that she said. Yet, Margo couldn’t stop. Often, a kernel of truth rested beneath layers of heavy fog.
“Your husband said that he gave a ride home to Tanya Abot, and then he came home.”
“Do you remember it that way?”
“If he said that, then it’s true.”
“I know. But do you remember?”
Donna half smiled and said, “Do you pray?”
“Pray? I don’t know what you mean,” Margo replied with a frown. What did it have to do with anything?
“Prayer. Do you pray to God? Do you ask Him to forgive you, to wash away your sins?”
“Truthfully? No, I don’t pray a lot.”
“You must. You must pray. It is the only way to heaven. You must be forgiven. Your sins must be taken away. That’s the only way.”
Margo smiled, hoping to quell the sudden surge of energy in Donna.
“Do you forgive sins?” Donna asked. “Is that it? Can you forgive and grant absolution? Can you help me gain the promised land?”
“Mrs. O’Brien—”
Donna reached out and took Margo’s hands.
“You do forgive, don’t you? You listen, and then you forgive. You can listen to my sins. I haven’t confessed in… such a long time. I need to tell you so that you can wash away the sin.”
Still holding Margo’s hands, Donna slid off her chair and knelt. She bowed her head. Margo didn’t know what to do exactly, so she kept watching and listening.
“I am really sorry,” Donna said. “I have sinned. I have lied. I have borne false witness. I have lived in sin for many years. Please forgive me.”
“What exactly did you do?” Margo asked in a gentle voice.
“I was wicked. I lied. I thought it was right, but it wasn’t right. It’s never been right. It’s the root from which all evil has come. You must forgive me. I am so sorry. You must absolve me. I beg you. Make me clean again. Make me pure,” Donna said with her head bowed, and her hands clasped together in prayer.
Margo’s face turned red with embarrassment. She had never experienced anything like this before. She wanted to say she wasn’t a priest or a pastor. She had no power to forgive or absolve. She was just a detective, and not an official one either. She was trying to solve a cold case, find out what happened to a young girl who didn’t deserve to die. That was all. How could she convince Donna O’Brien of that?
“Mrs. O’Brien, I am not a priest, but I forgive you. I have no reason not to. My forgiveness means nothing. It will not pass muster with a higher being. But, for what it’s worth, I forgive you.”
Donna raised her eyes. Tears were running down her cheeks.
“Thank you, thank you so very much. You have lifted my heart again.”
Margo smiled and gently helped Donna to her feet.
“Sit,” Margo said. “Sit and tell me all about Mandy Salter.”
The woman sat. “Mandy? Oh, yes, Mandy. You’ll find Mandy in the barn.”
Margo gave her a confused look. “What?”
“In the barn. She’s in the barn… with the others.”
Margo stared at the red barn with its white trim through the window. There were two tall garage doors and a regular one facing her. For some reason, she felt a trepidation, a sense of fear course through her. She didn’t want to go inside the barn. She looked over her shoulder. Donna was still inside—with the shotgun. Margo shivered.
How had she been so foolish as to leave it in the kitchen?
She half expected the repentant woman to come marching out, firing as she went. Margo took a deep breath. She knew she had to see what was inside. After all, they were all in there, including Mandy.
Margo entered the barn and turned on the lights. As soon as the fluorescents came to life, she noticed how odd the place was. It was two barns. On one side, there were several antique tractors. Some were restored, others were in the process of restoration, while the rest sat there untouched, getting rusty. Margo knew she had found Terry O’Brien’s hobby. He turned old tractors into valuable antiques. The barn was perfect for that. Some of the brands on display were ones she had never heard of. His restorations were beautiful and meticulous.
The other half of the barn was a chapel. At one end, there was a wooden altar with a huge cross, candles, and an open Bible on a stand. Several pews faced the altar. Margo wondered who came to pray or officiate here. To one side, there were two cupboards, with crosses on the doors. Margo guessed that she was looking at a confessional. But who came to hear confessions? Who came to confess? Certainly, Donna confessed. She was ready to confess to just about anyone. Did anyone else come here?
Margo moved deeper into the barn, walking the line between tractors and chapel. It was eerie. On one side, religion. On the other, farming.
Where was Mandy?
Where were all the others?
Margo looked around, trying to find something. Past the tractors, near the back wall. That’s where she found Mandy. That was where she found the others too. Because the far wall was nothing but photos. There were team photos of every team Terry O’Brien had coached, every player who had played for him. They were grouped by team and by year. All those bright, eager faces smiled at her. In each photo, Coach O’Brien smiled from the back row. It was a shrine of sorts, a tribute to his years of successful coaching.
Mandy was up there, near the top, with the following twenty years since her below. A sudden thought hit Margo. She wondered how many of the other players had been murdered.
Any?
None?
Surely if any others had been killed, the sheriff would know about them. She considered contacting the players herself, talking to them all. Would any of them know about Mandy’s death? Would they have any clues? Was there anything to be gained? Margo didn’t think so. She remembered that Sheriff Males had interviewed the players years ago, but none of them had anything substantial to contribute. Mandy had been kidnapped, held for four days, and left on a riverbank.
Case closed.
Margo looked again. Was there something different about Mandy’s photo? No, it was like the others of that year. There were differences year to year, but not within a single team. All the individual pictures were the same.
As expected.
Margo turned away from the team wall. She had seen enough. There was nothing more. Coach O’Brien was sentimental, keeping pictures of his girls. His wife was a religious nut. No wonder nobody knew anything about her. She probably never left the property. How could her husband take her out? It didn’t seem possible. Margo turned out the lights as she left the barn.
For a moment, Margo considered returning to see Donna, but that didn’t seem like a good idea. Donna could very well point the shotgun at her again, and this time, she might pull the trigger. As Margo climbed into her car, she glanced again at the woods surrounding the house. With much of the foliage on the ground, she could see paths among the trees.
Deer and animal paths from the look of them. She thought it might be fun to go for a hike up the mountain, see what was up there. When they were done, she would suggest it to Marcia. Pack a picnic lunch and head into the trees.
If they were done with the case.
On the drive back to town, she called Marcia, who answered on the first ring.
“Coming home,” Margo said. “The coach’s wife was a complete bust.”
“My day might have been if we hadn’t run into John Males.”
“Oh? What happened?”
“Well, it might be nothing. Becky was a bit loopy from the treatment. But after seeing Males, she told me he was a bad man. How did she know that? She said to ask Tanya.”
“Tanya?”
“Yeah, as I said, Becky was out of it, and she fell asleep right after she said it. So, take it with a grain of salt.”
“So, you ready to go talk to Tanya?”
“No, I’m doing laundry at Becky’s. I want to hang around until she gets back on her feet.”
“That works. I’ll go see Tanya.”
“Stop here on your way back. Give the laundry a ride.”
“Got it.”
Margo killed the connection and considered what her sister had just told her. What in the world did Tanya know about John Males?
CHAPTER 6
The door opened, and Tanya gave her a polite smile. Margo smiled back.
“Hello,” Tanya said. “You’re just in time for mother’s little helper. Come in.
Not much had changed since Margo’s last visit. The family room was still messy, as was the kitchen. The only difference was the odor. The kitchen smelled of chili, which simmered on the stove.
“Do you like chili?” Tanya asked. “It will be ready in a few minutes.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I think my sister is fixing us dinner.”
“You can take some to her. I made plenty. Everyone in my family loves it.”
“Thanks, but I’ll take a rain check on the chili. Actually, I came to talk to you.”
Tanya smiled at her in understanding. She brought two coffees to the table and set one in front of Margo. Then, she grabbed a bottle of cheap vodka from a cabinet and poured a dollop into her coffee.
“Mother’s little helper,” Tanya said. “Want some?”
“No thanks, I’m driving.”
“Most days, I have no idea what I would do without the helper. My kids are crazy, and, well, Fen isn’t around when those terrors come home from school. It’s like the school shot them full of sugar or something.”
Margo watched as Tanya quickly sipped all of her coffee. She needed the alcohol, and Margo wondered if there was more to it.
“My sister took Becky Salter to her chemo session today,” Margo said.
“I’m so sorry about that. Becky doesn’t deserve it. I mean, she’s lost her daughter and is now divorced, and well, Charlie wasn’t all that much, to begin with. He liked to hang around with my Fen. They would do the bars back in the day. That was before Fen bought his bar, the Down Low. I remember when Becky had to call the bar two or three times to get Charlie home. Becky was too precious to go there and get him herself. I remember one Christmas Eve when she called Fen and threatened to have his bar raided if he didn’t send her husband home. When Charlie was drinking and chasing a skirt, he was hard to corral, if you know what I mean.”
“I do,” Margo said, trying to get in some words. “As I’ve said, Marcia took Becky to chemo. While they were there, Marcia ran into John Males.”
Tanya’s smile faded a bit before widening again. “He should move to Florida or something. No one liked him much when he was sheriff, and those feelings haven’t changed. He could never keep his fingers out of other people’s pies.”
“That came up. When my sister asked Becky about it, she said to ask you. What do you know about Males that would interest us?”
Tanya’s brown eyes narrowed, and her smile disappeared. She became cagey, glancing anywhere but at her while playing with her coffee cup.
“I really have no idea why Becky would say that. Males and I were never close if you know what I mean. He was the sheriff when I was in high school. He liked the girls.”
“How do you know that?”
“He would come to our volleyball games. You know, in uniform, gun in a holster, real official looking. Everyone thought he came to make sure there weren’t any fights, but that wasn’t it. He came to watch the girls. We all wore those tight, little shorts and jerseys. He would stand to one side and gawk at us like fish in a bowl or something. He didn’t smile, and he didn’t clap when we scored a point or won a game. He just stared. I think he was dreaming of what he could do to us.”
“What makes you say that?”
Tanya poured another dollop of vodka into her coffee. “Just a feeling. You know how it is. You know when men look at you and see something they can hurt.”
Margo wondered what Tanya was holding back because she was pretty sure the woman was not telling her the whole truth.
“I know what you mean,” Margo said. “We have a pool in our back yard, and you would not believe how many times our neighbor Paul stopped by to borrow a tool or deliver cookies his wife had made. It was always a sunny day when my sister and I were swimming or sunbathing. He was creepy. Behind his sunglasses, I knew he was staring our bikinis right off of our bodies.”
“They’re all the same. They say pretty things, but in their heads, they’re all disgusting. They don’t think about us. They only think about themselves.”
“So, what was it between you and Males. You can tell me. I’m a stranger.”
“What?”
Tanya rose to add coffee to her vodka. Margo watched her movements, knowing full well that the alcohol was Tanya’s crutch for being able to reveal whatever kind of information she was about to give. Some people needed an excuse for their indiscretions. Tanya was one of those. The vodka made me do it, she would later say.
“People who want to share something… embarrassing, often choose a stranger, especially a stranger who doesn’t live in their town or area. That way, they can free themselves with the assurance that their embarrassment won’t become the talk of the town.”
Tanya nodded in encouragement. “I’ve heard about that. And I suppose you’re right, talking to strangers as often as you do. It makes sense. Who wants to air their dirty laundry where people can see it?”
“Exactly.” Margo got more coffee, letting Tanya find the courage to start talking.
“You won’t tell anyone?” Tanya asked in a small voice.
“Just my sister, and only the parts that she needs to know.”
“Because I’ve never told anyone about this. Not even Fen.”
Margo sat back down, knowing that Tanya was lying. If she had never told anyone, then Becky couldn’t know. Margo was pretty sure Males wasn’t going to tell anyone.
“Back then, I was cute, you know—fourteen and skinny, not like now. You know what kids do to your figure. Babies are just hip spreaders. It’s a fact. God’s punishment for enjoying sex.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“Yeah, well, back then, before babies, all the guys would look at me. It was fun, you know. We all wanted attention. I got my share. Branson Wells was a junior, and he wasn’t the cutest boy around, but he had a car. He would sometimes pick me up after school and drive us out to Hobb’s Point, just a few miles outside Havermill. We’d overlook the river; it was real pretty. There’s a lane there, way off the road, where we would go to smoke and maybe drink a beer and make out. Bran always wanted to make out. He wasn’t a great kisser, but he had nice hands, soft hands. He could make me feel good, you know? It wasn’t real sex, just handsy stuff. I miss that. Fen is all about the other. He doesn’t work too hard on the handsy stuff.”
“So, you were drinking and making out,” Margo prompted.
“Yes, the sun was going down. It was time to go home. That was when the sheriff tapped on
the window with his flashlight. That was all it took. Bran jumped out of the car while I put myself together. When Males spotted the beer, he had us. Neither of us was old enough to drink. The drinking and driving would mean that Bran would lose his license, and I’d get kicked off the team. Males made that clear. He had us both. He could ruin us. So, he lectured us for a while and sent Bran home. Males was going to deliver me himself since putting me in a car with a drunk would be wrong. I believed him. We stood on the dirt road and watched Bran disappear. I waited, ‘cause Males wasn’t in a hurry. That was when he turned to me and told me to strip.”
Margo wasn’t particularly surprised. In a way, she had expected something like that. Tanya downed her coffee and refilled her cup, adding yet more vodka.
“I wasn’t sure I heard him right, so he repeated himself, adding that I needed to do what he said. So, I stripped, right down to my underwear. That wasn’t good enough for him. He made me strip all the way, which made me cold, but he didn’t care. He grabbed a Polaroid camera from his car and took pictures. He made me smile, and he made me pose. Those pictures kept coming out of the camera, and he would look at one before he took the next. He laid them on top of the car to dry. No smudges.”
“How many did he take?”
“I wasn’t counting. Ten maybe. They didn’t hide anything.”
“Did he say anything?”
Tanya shook her head. “Not really. He told me how to pose and how to smile, and that I was going to be a good girl. I didn’t want any pictures circulating or anything. I was fourteen, and I was scared, and I didn’t see a way out. He had me. He had me...”
Margo nodded and reached over to pat Tanya’s hand. Tanya smiled, already bleary-eyed from the vodka. Her lower lip slipped to one side, and for a moment, Margo thought that Tanya might be suffering a stroke.
