by B. T. Lord
He ran over a list of lies he could tell his mother to convince her not to yell at him. Lately she seemed to be screaming at him for everything, most of which wasn’t his fault anyway. It was his stupid little brother who was always causing problems that somehow he got blamed for.
Unfortunately he couldn’t blame Dennis tonight, no matter how elaborate a story he came up with. He was going to have to invent something pretty spectacular if he was going to avoid Mom going off the deep end.
Of course, maybe he could avoid a confrontation all together if he climbed in through the back window and snuck upstairs. He could then pretend he’d been in his room all along.
As he pondered the possibility of this, he looked ahead through the trees and felt his heart start to hammer.
The other reason he never took this shortcut was because it came out near that creepazoid’s house. Man, but that guy was beyond weird. Everybody in town knew he was a perv. The word was out to avoid his house at all costs, though he’d never done anything to Billy or his friends. Not that he would have dared. Billy was convinced he and his buddies would make mincemeat out of him if he even looked at them funny, though just now he wasn’t quite sure. Still, it was safer to keep away from him. And if this wasn’t a dire emergency, he wouldn’t have taken this path.
If I pedal fast enough, I can get past his house without him giving me any pervy looks or trying any pervy stuff.
Billy came out of the woods near the corner of Reginald Steepman’s property. He geared himself up to fly past the backyard and soon was pedaling for all he was worth. He saw the perv lying in his lounge chair out of the corner of his eye and was about to pedal faster, when something didn’t look right. He abruptly slammed on his brakes, sending a plume of dust and dirt into the air.
He stood for a moment, trying to catch his breath, not sure what to do. If he were smart, he’d just keep going and forget he saw anything. But it was like Mom said. Sometimes, he wasn’t very smart.
Billy climbed off his bike, laid it down on the road and slowly and cautiously approached Steepman. Just in case it was all a trap, he looked around until he saw a sturdy branch lying on the ground.
Billy was a pretty decent batter on his little league team. He knew exactly how to hold the branch in order to get the maximum swing out of it. Picking it up, he continued his approach towards the lawn chair, and the suspiciously limp looking arm that hung there motionless, as if the perv were asleep. In fact, Billy had at first thought he was asleep. But there was something weird about the way the arm hung down, its fingers trailing along the grass, a fat carpenter ant crawling on the wrist.
Gripping the branch tighter, Billy finally came up to Steepman. He took one look, dropped the stick and let out an ungodly scream.
“At least he wasn’t taking an air bath this time,” Cammie remarked as she and Rick shielded their eyes against the glare of the halogen lamps Doc had set up around the body. They watched as he examined Steepman’s fully clothed body lying stretched out on his lounge chair. His mouth and eyes were wide open, and his head was slumped to the side.
“Is Billy going to be okay?” She asked Rick.
“According to his mom, the kid has a phobia about spiders. Absolutely hates them. When he saw one crawling out of Steepman’s mouth, he completely lost it.”
“I don’t blame him. I probably would have lost it too if I’d seen the same thing.”
Rick looked at her doubtfully. It would take more than a spider to make his boss lose her cool.
“Any idea how he died?” she asked Doc.
“There are no defensive wounds that I can see.”
“How long do you think he’s been lying there?”
“I’d say at least three to four hours.”
“So we’re talking time of death at about four pm?”
“Give or take.” Doc stood up. “I’ll know more once I get him onto the autopsy table.”
He called for his assistants who began to load the corpse into the body bag.
“Could have been a heart attack,” Cammie mused as she watched the men work. “He was – what – fifty five, sixty years old?”
“I think so.”
“Was there anything found around the chair?”
“I’m one step ahead of you. There was a glass with what smelled like lemonade lying on its side near his hand. It’s been bagged and I’ll be running tests to rule out any possible poisons.”
“So maybe he was sitting here, enjoying the evening, drinking some lemonade when his heart gave out. The glass slipped from his hand and that was that.”
“Could be.”
“Rick and I will check inside his house. Maybe something in there will tell us what happened.”
They found the back door unlocked and stepped inside.
“Yowza!” Rick exclaimed as they entered the kitchen. “This is not at all what I expected to see.”
The small kitchen looked like something out of a home decorating magazine. With its stainless steel appliances, expensive tiles and stylish lamps over a pricey, antique-looking island, both Cammie and Rick were flabbergasted. “We could be standing in Doc’s kitchen,” Rick continued.
“Now I’m really curious about the rest of the house,” Cammie replied.
They entered the living room. Once again they were astonished at all the expensive gadgets and the latest in television and audio technology. “Jeez, this screen is at least 72 inches!” Rick exclaimed, a hint of envy in his voice.
With each room they explored, the more they found themselves in complete disbelief. The outside looked modest, non-descript. It resembled just about every house in the small neighborhood. But the inside looked as if it had stepped out of Architectural Digest.
“All this stuff must have cost him a fortune!” Rick said once they were done with their inspection.
“He was on disability, right?”
“Yeah. He used to paint houses for a company out of Houlton. He fell off some scaffolding about nine years ago and injured his back.”
“Tomorrow, when you get in, check on his finances. Maybe he sued and got a large settlement.”
“Will do.”
“In the meantime, I’m going to swing by Billy’s house and make sure he’s okay.”
Cammie needn’t have worried. By the time she arrived, Billy was already the talk of social media and the story of what happened had grown to epic proportions. The small spider crawling out of Steepman’s mouth was now the size of a mega-tarantula, and instead of screaming at the sight of it, brave Billy Davenport had taken the stick and flung the spider into the woods after yelling like a Ninja warrior.
Still, she asked his parents to keep an eye on him. Despite his bravado, it was still upsetting to find a dead body with a spider crawling out of its mouth. With his horror of spiders, she expected the boy to experience nightmares over what he’d seen.
It was almost ten o’clock by the time she wrapped everything up. Knowing Doc to be a night owl, as well as a man who relished his job as county coroner, she knew he wouldn’t sleep until he’d completed the autopsy. Deciding to talk to him in the morning, she arrived at his cabin and found Jace sitting in the living room, watching one of the cable talk shows.
“Doc’s down in the Crypt with Steeper the Peeper,” he said as Cammie gave him a quick kiss and sat down on the couch next to him. “Was it a heart attack?”
“That’s what I’m hoping. I don’t need two murders on my plate right now.”
“Well, if he was murdered, you only have to look as far as the ladies he liked to peep at.”
She chuckled. “You actually think a seventy-five year old woman is going to commit murder?”
“They might if every time they walked into their living room, they found his ugly mug waving back at them.”
“You’ve got a point.” She yawned. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to call it a day. Besides, I want to get up extra early and find out what Doc came up with.”
Cammie
ended up climbing out of bed at five am. Making sure not to wake up Jace, she threw on a pair of jeans and t-shirt and quietly let herself out of the bedroom. Padding downstairs in her bare feet, she found Doc in the kitchen, having a cup of coffee. He looked up at the sound of her footsteps.
“I had a feeling you’d be up early,” he said as he took a sip from an oversized coffee mug that had the words ‘World’s Greatest Doctor’ printed on it. He insisted it was a gift from a patient, but Cammie remained convinced he’d bought it himself.
“What time did you finish the autopsy?” She asked as she sat down on the other side of the counter.
“About ten minutes ago.”
“Please tell me he had a heart attack.”
“I wish I could.”
“Crap,” she muttered under her breath. “So it wasn’t a natural death?”
“Not unless you consider succinylcholine a natural way to go.” Cammie stared at him in disbelief. “I found a needle mark in the back of his neck which led me to run tests on poisons. On a hunch I included succinylcholine, or sux for short, in my analysis. Now the sux itself doesn’t leave any traces. The enzymes in the human body begin to break it down almost immediately even as it’s paralyzing the victim within seconds to a minute. That’s why it used to be considered the perfect murder weapon. However, tests have been developed that have the ability to show the breakdown products known as metabolites. I found traces of the metabolites in his urine.”
“So he became paralyzed and basically suffocated to death?” she asked grimly.
“Yes. It’s an especially gruesome way to die. Despite being unable to move, your mind is still conscious. As you slowly lose the ability to breath, you know you’re going to die and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.”
“Who in heaven’s name would do something like that to him?”
“Ask any of the elderly women he’d been bothering over the years.”
“Jace said the same thing last night. But he never actually touched or threatened any of them.”
Doc raised an eyebrow. “Are you actually defending him?”
“Of course not. What he did was reprehensible. But to subject him to such a horrible death…” She shook her head.
“So Sherlock, what do you think happened? I can hear the wheels in your head turning from here.”
“The way he was lying in his lounge chair with the glass of lemonade on the ground next to his hand tells me he knew who his killer was and felt comfortable enough not to be suspicious when they came up behind him. Before he knew what was happening, they injected him with the sux. They then either callously left him there to suffocate to death, or watched him die.”
“Well, whoever did this obviously had access to sux, so that should narrow your search.”
She glanced at him. “Actually you’re the only medical person in town.”
Doc was about to take another sip of his coffee when he stopped. “Huh. So I am. But I don’t keep sux here, though knowing what a suspicious mind you have, you’re more than welcome to look. It’s used primarily in hospitals on persons who are being intubated – that is, their airway is blocked and a breathing tube must be inserted into the throat. In order to get the tube in quickly, the patient is paralyzed and sedated. The procedure is always accompanied by respiratory support so you don’t suffocate the way poor Reginald did.”
“Well, the closest hospital is two hours away and as far as I know, no one in Twin Ponds, with the exception of you, works there.”
“I hope you’re not planning on arresting me. It’s been a long night, and I was planning on treating myself to a bubble bath after I finish my coffee.”
“Don’t worry, Doc. I don’t think you’re guilty.” She stared off into space as she thought about it. “It is curious though. Who would have access to that stuff? And why kill him that way?”
“My humble opinion is that someone wanted him to suffer. They succeeded admirably.”
She sighed. “I’ll call Forensics and get them out there to process the scene.”
“Well, I’m off to take my well-deserved bubble bath. Let me know if you come up with any plausible explanations to our little mystery.”
It was too early to go to the office, so Cammie decided to return to bed for a few hours. Rather than fall asleep however, she lay next to Jace and pondered what Doc had told her.
It seemed unfathomable that someone would kill Steepman in such an awful way. Yes, he’d been incredibly annoying, especially to the poor women he’d bothered. But to end his life in such a horrible manner left her reeling.
Then there was the mystery of all the pricey items in his home. By the time the alarm clock went off, she’d reached a possible conclusion that left her very uneasy.
Later that morning, she made one stop before continuing on to HQ. When she arrived, she shared Doc’s findings with Rick and Emmy.
“Jeez, he may have been a perv, but did he deserve to die that way?” Rick asked rhetorically.
“Can you think of anyone in town who may have had access to the sux?” Cammie asked.
“What about Dr. Logan?” Emmy suggested. “If they use that stuff the way Doc described for humans, maybe he uses it in his veterinary practice for animals.”
“Good thinking Em, but I stopped at his office this morning and had him check his supplies. There is none missing.”
“I can ask my mom if any of the people in her church group once worked as a nurse or medical assistant,” Emmy said. “She knows just about everybody in town.”
“That would be great.”
“I managed to get Steepman’s financial records,” Rick said. “Unfortunately, the only deposits are his monthly disability checks which certainly don’t amount to anything close to allowing him to buy all that stuff. I’ve also requested his phone records. They should be here in a few days. However, I thought you’d like to know that he had a safety deposit box at the bank. I’m already working on getting a warrant for us to open it.”
“Terrific job, Rick. I know it will be next to impossible, but I’d like to keep a lid on how Steepman died for as long as possible. The last thing we need is for the town to get paranoid over the idea of a syringe carrying crazy injecting paralysis-inducing fluids into people. For the time being, we can subtly let it be known that he died from a possible heart attack.”
Rick shuddered. “I just can’t get over that poor guy suffocating to death. The part that gets me is that he knew he was dying. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”
“We need to interview the neighbors. Maybe someone saw something.”
“If you don’t mind,” Emmy spoke up, “I’m going to check to see if maybe Mr. Steepman won the lottery, or made some bets that paid off. And before you go, I just wanted to let you know that we received the Peabodys’ cell phone records. Unfortunately, all the calls from Mr. Peabody’s cell are to folks here in Twin Ponds.”
“So the killer must have disposed of George’s cellphone. Well, it was worth a shot.” Cammie and Rick walked out of her office, and straight into Cora Cameron.
Unlike her usual flamboyant outfits, this time she was dressed in black leggings, black sneakers and a long black t-shirt that came down to her knees. It was her face though that startled the police officers. She looked drawn and pasty, and seemed unsteady on her feet. Cammie immediately helped her to a nearby chair.
“Cora, are you alright?” The old woman shook her head. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
She lifted her face and Cammie was surprised to see tears in her eyes. “I’ve come to make a confession. You see, I’m responsible for Reginald Steepman’s death.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Suppose you tell me what happened,” Cammie said after they’d gotten Cora a cup of chamomile tea to help settle her nerves.
“I know you said you’d arrest him if he didn’t stop peeking through my slider, but damn it, he just couldn’t stop. A few days ago I was getting ready for my air bath when I fou
nd him ogling me again. So I did what I told you I was going to do. I took matters into my own hands.”
Cammie and Rick exchanged concerned glances. “Just what did you do?” the sheriff asked.
Cora took a sip of her tea. “I decided to put a spell on him. And to make sure it stuck, I went over to his house the night before last and put some charms in his yard that would hold the energy of my incantation.”
Cammie managed to keep the relief from showing on her face. “What kind of spell was it?”
“Oooh, it was one of my better ones. If he looked into one more window, whether it was mine or someone else’s, he’d suddenly start seeing worms everywhere – all over his shoes, his legs, his house, wherever he sat. Even in his food.”
“Worms?” Rick asked, fighting not to laugh.
“Yes sirree. Steeper the Peeper absolutely hated worms, ever since he was a boy. Some bullies in school made him eat one once in second grade, and he’s been terrified of them ever since. I figured that would teach him a lesson.”
“What was in your charms?”
Cora glanced at her from beneath her brow. “I’m not sure I can tell you that, you not being a witch and all.”
“Then can you at least tell me where you buried them?”
“Hmmm. I suppose I could do that. Now that he’s gone, the magick won’t work anyway. I put one under his front window, his bedroom window and beneath his lounge chair.”
“And you did this Tuesday night?”
She nodded. “The way I see it, it was now my turn to peek into his window. He was on the phone with someone and didn’t hear me when I took my spade and started digging. I made sure to do it under the new moon to give my spell more potency. And it must have worked. Too good, I guess.” She shook her head to herself. “I only wanted to scare him. Never figured on him having a heart attack. It’s entirely my fault. I should have thought of that. All those worms crawling around him were bound to frighten the bejesus out of him.” She looked up at Cammie. “I’m real sorry about that, Sheriff. I never meant for him to die. I just wanted him to stop peering into women’s windows. I wanted him to stop peering in my window. Are you going to arrest me now?”
