OLD MAN MALONE RETURNS
By Marianne Spitzer
© June 2013
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, events, locations, or organizations are purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced without the written consent of the author.
Acknowledgements
There are many people I would like to thank for their help and understanding while I wrote this book, but first and foremost, I want to thank God for all His blessings. I also wish to thank my family and friends for their patience while I disappeared into my writing world especially my son, Lance, for his unwavering support. Last, but by no means least, I wish to thank my wonderful editor, Rebecca Graf, for helping me turn this book into a much better read.
OLD MAN MALONE RETURNS
By Marianne Spitzer
Chapter One
Mr. Torberry watched two robins flittering outside his office window. He enjoyed the serenity the view provided him of the rolling grounds. Mr. Torberry placed his fresh, hot cup of coffee on his desk when he heard a scream coming from the front office. He hurried out to see what was causing the commotion on a normally quiet Saturday morning at Springs Cemetery. Seeing elderly Mrs. Owens reclining on the plum brocade sofa, he wondered why his secretary was sitting with her, holding her hand.
When Mrs. Owens noticed him, she tried to sit, her eyes wide with terror. Her small frame appeared childlike clothed in a yellow floral dress, white gloves, and hat. She struggled to speak, pointing a shaking finger at Mr. Torberry.
“He’s dead, I tell you. Dead! He’s lying there right behind the exploded grave. Mr. Torberry, one of your bodies has escaped.” Mrs. Owens fell back against the sofa. Her silver glasses slipped to the floor.
His secretary quickly explained, “Mrs. Owens rushed into the office in a panic. She claims there’s a dead body not twenty feet from her husband’s grave, and one of the graves is open. She said we needed to call 911, screamed, and collapsed onto the sofa.”
Mr. Torberry shook his head as he rushed to his car. The service road led him to the back section of the cemetery where the Owens family owned several grave sites. He could see the destruction before he pulled up on the service road. The carefully mown sod was torn up and scattered over several other graves. Hoping the chunks of concrete strewn about hadn’t broken any of the marble head stones, he hurried to the site.
“Must be kids again, and it’s not yet Halloween. Why do they think it’s funny to desecrate a burial site?” Walking quickly to survey the damage, he stopped several feet from the open grave, shocked at what he saw. This was done by more than kids, he thought. His eyes flashed to the scene behind the large marble monument.
With shaking hands, he reached for the cell phone in his pocket. He dropped it on the ground, and felt around for it unable to take his eyes off the terrible sight. He finally found it, plucked it off the grass, and dialed 911. “I want to report a dead body.”
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Within minutes, he could hear the sirens racing down the highway and turning into the cemetery. He saw the red and blue lights through the trees as the vehicle weaved its way to the back of the cemetery. Two officers climbed out of the cruiser. Officers Grady Watkins and Edgar Perkett glanced at the disturbed grave as they strode toward Mr. Torberry.
“What’s all this about a dead body?” Officer Perkett pushed his cap back on his balding head.
“He’s right there, Edgar, behind the Malone family monument. There’s lots of blood on his head. He’s dead.”
Edgar stuck a thumb in his belt which disappeared under his belly overhang and glanced at the middle-aged body in workman’s clothes. “Says ‘Ken’ on his shirt. Hard to tell from the blood on his face, but isn’t that Ken Spencer?”
Mr. Torberry looked at the body and dropped his eyes. He saw his favorite employee lying on the ground. Blood covered Ken’s blond hair. His blue eyes stared straight up to the cloudless sky.
“Yes, I’m afraid so.” He turned and gripped his hands to keep them from shaking.
“What the hell happened to this open grave, and where’s the body?” asked Officer Perkett.
Pointing to a grave several feet away, Mr. Torberry said, “I don’t know. I arrived moments before I called. Mrs. Owens found it this way when she came to put flowers on Ralph’s grave.”
Officer Watkins walked around the crime scene looking for clues. All he could see was perfectly manicured grass and marble tombstones in perfect rows. He walked with his head down, moving leaves with his gloved hands hoping to find anything that would help solve the murder.
“Hey, Edgar. I can’t find a murder weapon. At least, I can’t see anything with blood on it.”
“Keep looking, Grady. Someone might have tossed it near the trees.”
Grady wandered toward the trees that lined one side of the cemetery, checking the ground as he walked. The grounds were well-kept. The short grass aided in his search. Only fresh flowers in brass vases were visible. There was no place for a weapon to be hidden.
Edgar nodded his head toward the open grave in front of the large family monument and asked, “Tell me, Torberry, exactly whose grave is open.”
“Frederick Malone.”
“Old Man Malone? He’s been dead for a year. I know the county has quite a case against his supposed granddaughter, Emma, and his crazy cook. That Mrs. Casey is one obnoxious old woman. They’ll both be in prison for quite a while.”
“What does that have to do with Ken being killed? Edgar, Ken was my best employee and a friend. Stop gossiping. Do your job.” Mr. Torberry pounded his fists against his legs.
“I heard the other granddaughter got married this past summer. Hell of a way to begin married life with a dead grandfather roaming around.”
“He’s not roaming around anywhere. Someone stole the body. I want to make a report of a stolen body. Do something, Edgar. If this isn’t solved soon, people will look elsewhere to bury their loved ones.” Mr. Torberry paced up and down while wringing his hands. Whenever he looked at the open grave, his pale features lost any appearance of color and his head ached.
Grady strolled back. “I looked through the grass up to the trees and in as far as I could walk. Could be the killer took it with him or tossed it far into the woods. We better get a dog out here to search.” He paused and looked over at Mr. Torberry wringing his hands and appearing unsteady. “Hey, Mr. Torberry, are you feeling alright?”
Mr. Torberry nodded.
“Call the station. Get a dog and the coroner out here,” Edgar snapped. “I’ll take care of Mr. Torberry.”
“Got it.” Grady ran to his patrol car.
Edgar walked up to Mr. Torberry. “You want to sit in your car, Torberry? You don’t have to wait up here with us.”
“I’m fine, Edgar. Thanks.”
Edgar looked in the empty grave. He knew it must have taken more than one person to dig up the hard packed soil and crack through the grave liner’s concrete lid. Lifting the chunks of concrete out of the grave so the coffin could be opened would have been a difficult chore. Pieces of both were strewn in all directions over the freshly mown grass as if it had exploded from the inside.
“Impossible,” mumbled Edgar. “Let the detectives figure it out.” He pulled a stick of gum from his pocket and popped it into his mouth.
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Edgar surveyed the area. He walked further away from the open grave hoping to see anything that would help him solve this mystery. All he could see was grass and tombstones in every direction. He didn’t like cemeteries, and the idea of a dead body somewhere in town
disturbed him. His patrol covered the cemetery and driving through at night always freaked him out. He pictured the body of old man Malone propped up on a park bench in City Park. He shuddered at the thought. He could imagine the ladies book club screaming as they tried to run away from the body. He heard a car and turned in time to see Mike Stellion’s car pull up.
“About time they send a detective to handle this,” mumbled Edgar. “Hi, Mike.” Edgar called and waved.
“Hey, Edgar, what’s going on here? We got a report Ken Spencer was murdered.” Mike’s muscular frame had no problem walking up the incline to the murder site. The wind blew through his short brown hair. It was a warm day, and he enjoyed the breeze.
“Yup, his body is over behind that big marble monument, and Frederick Malone’s body is missing.”
Mike stopped in his tracks. “Missing?” He raised his eyebrows and stared at Edgar.
“Grave looks as if it was busted open from the inside, and the body’s gone. Take a look for yourself.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder.
Mike saw sod and concrete from the grave tossed around. He made his way to the open grave. His police training worked overtime, as he took in every detail. He stood with his hands on his hips, surveying what he was having a hard time believing. There was no way a body got out alone. Someone took the body, but they went to a great deal of trouble doing it.
“Edgar, there aren’t any tracks indicating that a vehicle was here lately. That means whoever did this did it by hand. It must have taken at least two people. I think Ken caught them, and they killed him.”
“Could be, but who would want Old Man Malone’s body? Everyone in town was glad when he died. He was one nasty human being.”
Mike glanced up to see Grady, with his long legs and perpetual smile running toward the sheriff’s K9 unit that pulled up.
“You called in for a dog?” The K9 officer inquired. “What’s up?”
“Yeah, I walked all over and couldn’t find a murder weapon. We thought the dog could find it.”
“Good move, but the odds are they hit him with a tool they were using and took it with them. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find it.”
A full size German Shepherd jumped from the backseat and sat next to his handler. The dog bounced on his haunches. He remained at his handler’s side, until the officer gave him the command to search.
Mike watched the dog walk in circles looking for a scent. He was intrigued how the dog would stop and sniff an area that appeared exactly the same as the rest of the grounds. The dog would walk back to an area, sniff again, and move to another spot. While the dog worked, the coroner’s car arrived.
Dr. Webster had been Oaklin County’s coroner for as long as Mike could remember. His quirky ways made most of the townsfolk think he was too old for the job. Mike knew they were wrong. He wouldn’t have anyone other than Dr. Webster help in a possible murder case. Mike knew Dr. Webster had the best analytical mind in the county.
“Hi, Dr. Webster. I know it’s a murder. Maybe you can shed a little light on the circumstances.”
Dr. Webster, a portly gentleman, wearing his signature baggy brown suit strolled over to Detective Stellion. “Okay, Mike, I’m sorry to hear that Ken Spencer is dead. He was a nice guy.”
Dr. Webster slowly pulled his heavy frame up the incline. He stopped and held onto the monument to catch his breath. The doctor then turned and did an initial examination of the body.
“Well, he received a pretty good whack to the forehead which would have knocked him out, but the bullet wound in his back tells me he was shot.” He bent over to examine the bullet wound closer. “The bullet’s in him, and it’s the cause of death. Probably hit the kidney and bounced around tearing up an artery. He bled out quickly mostly internally. I won’t know for sure until the autopsy.”
“There’s no exit wound?”
Rolling Ken’s body over onto his back, Dr. Webster said, “No, must be why Edgar reported a death due to blunt trauma to the head. No blood visible on the front of his shirt.”
“None of us would have turned him over until you got here. Thanks, doc, and let me know about the bullet. I’m hoping it’ll help us track down the killer.”
Mike watched two burly men place Ken on a stretcher and zip up the black body bag. They placed him in the coroner’s brown van that had pulled in behind Dr. Webster’s car. When both vehicles left, the K9 officer addressed Mike.
“The dog didn’t come up with any leads. Whoever did this must have taken the murder weapon with them.”
“Doc Webster said Ken was shot in the back. The head wound didn’t kill him.”
“It looks like they meant business. Robbing a grave is one thing; they must have been afraid of being caught and came well prepared.”
“I can’t figure who would want that old man’s body. I better go talk to my niece before she hears it from someone else. Word travels fast around here.”
“Good luck, Mike, I’ll see you around.” He ran toward his cruiser with the dog.
“Take care,” he called to the officer.
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Detective Stellion strolled back to his car, his mind mulling over possible scenarios. Grady and Edgar left to continue patrol duty.
Mr. Torberry was standing silently, hands folded together in front of him as he watched Mike.
Mike stated, “I think we’re done here. You can do whatever is necessary to close up the grave and return things to normal.”
Mr. Torberry hurried to his car and followed Mike to the cemetery entrance. Mr. Torberry parked his car, and Mike pulled out, heading for the Malone mansion. He had to be the one to inform Kellie about her grandfather’s grave. The old man had already caused her enough trouble. She needed to be prepared for anything that might happen now.
Chapter Two
Kellie had coffee with Taylor in the dining room. Taylor had been Kellie’s best friend since they were three. When Taylor’s family moved in next door to Kellie’s, they became inseparable. Best friends, more like sisters, they remained close.
Kellie’s husband, Drew, and Taylor’s fiancé, Hunter, were watching a sports show on TV. Hunter tried to doze a bit in his chair. Drew jumped up and yelled as the fisherman captured the marlin he was battling.
“Calm down, Drew,” Hunter mumbled. “I’m tired.”
Meanwhile, the girls were lost in a whirlwind of wedding plans. Papers, lists, swatches of fabric colors, magazines, and a laptop sat on the table in front of the girls.
“I can’t believe the wedding is only two weeks away. I’m so nervous,” said Taylor her big brown eyes showing panic.
“Don’t be nervous. My wedding planner is going to do as delightful a job for you as she did for me.” She pulled her long golden blonde hair back. “Let’s tackle some of these papers.”
“You got married here at home, and it was lovely. Mom insisted we have the reception at the Country Club. We planned on a church wedding but wanted a smaller reception. Look at all these decisions I have to make even with the help of the wedding planner. Plus Hunter keeps teasing me that the blue cummerbund will clash with his green eyes.” She dropped her head on the table and took a deep breath.
“It’ll be fine. It’s a couple hundred additional people. Think about the extra gifts, and the blue will look wonderful with Hunter’s blonde hair. If he starts complaining to Drew, he’ll say the blue clashes with his brown hair and eyes.” Kellie laughed.
“If he does, I swear I’ll make him a valet,” her eyes brightened.
“Good, problem solved.”
Taylor took a deep breath and sighed, “It’s not the wedding. We can’t find a decent apartment. We’re trying to stay within a budget so we can save money to buy a house. The ones we like are too expensive, and the ones we can afford are almost as bad as that basement apartment Hunter shared with Cole.” Taylor shuddered at the thought. “Remember how bad that was? It was more like a human size dog house.”
Kellie looked at Taylor, throwin
g her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. It didn’t help. Kellie’s blue eyes began to water. Her laughter caused her to snort soda from her nose. Taylor, trying to help her, doubled over in laughter.
Kellie’s eyes finally stopped watering, and she caught her breath.
“You okay?” Taylor asked giggling.
“Yeah, stop saying things like that when I’m drinking something. You always do that to me.”
“Glad you’re okay. Better not drink anything when you visit us in our lovely dog house.” Taylor smiled.
“I would offer you a down payment as a wedding gift, but I know Hunter’s proud and wants to do this with you. I think I might have an idea he would approve.”
“What?” Taylor leaned forward eyes wide with anticipation.
“Save your rent money toward your down payment and move into the south wing. With the double doors closed and locked, it’s like an apartment. A big apartment with everything you need. It’ll be our wedding gift to you both, and we’ll be close. Plus, if you are too tired to cook you can always come over for one of Mrs. Decker’s homemade meals.”
Taylor threw her arms around Kellie, tears streaming down her cheeks. “We could never dream of renting a four bedroom apartment. I’m really happy now that you inherited the mansion, and it has the added wing. It’s the best idea. I don’t know how to thank you or what to say.”
Hunter walked into the room. “Thank her for what?”
“Kellie offered us the south wing rent free as a wedding gift so we can save up for a down payment on a house. We’ll be close like neighbors, too. What do you say, honey?”
“He says, yes, of course,” agreed Drew who had been listening to the conversation from the dining room doorway.
“Well?” Taylor was batting her eyelashes at Hunter.
“Okay, I knew you and Kellie would want to be close. It’ll work if we can keep the doors locked. I don’t want anyone seeing you walking around naked,” he winked as he grinned at his soon-to-be wife. His green eyes flashed with mischief.
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