Chapter 7 - I Need a Shower
Stone pulled into the parking lot of the State Prison. Gracey had never been to the prison to visit her father, at his request. It was visitor’s day, and there were crowds of families visiting their loved ones. Stone put his arm around Gracey’s waist and kept her close for comfort and protection. After the usual sign in and weapons and contraband check, Stone and Gracey were led to the main visitor’s room.
John Newsome’s eyes lit up when he saw his little girl. Gracey was wearing the peach dress which Stone had bought her, and she looked beautiful. John looked surprised by Gracey's shorter haircut. His baby girl was now a woman. Then John saw Stone. What is he doing here? John wondered. He had not considered Stone would accompany Gracey inside even though Stone had arranged the visit.
“Hi, Daddy!” Gracey called out, walking faster. John saw Stone’s arm around Gracey’s waist and scowled. It was not a you are not good enough for my daughter scowl, but a what the hell is he doing here scowl.
“Daddy, meet Stone Rudolph.”
“I know who he is,” John glared. “But what is he doing here, with you?”
“Daddy, Stone is helping me found out who killed Mommy; and he is my friend. Please be polite,” Gracey implored.
“Okay, but only for you, baby girl,” John conceded only because he loved Gracey with all his heart. He did not want to make the visit any harder than it promised to be. John never wanted Gracey to visit him at the prison or see him in a prison uniform, regardless of the truth.
After a few minutes of the usual pleasantries, how are you, where are you living, where are you working, John turned to Stone, “You know I am innocent, right?”
Stone did not reply. He and Gracey were not there to question John's innocence. They were there to ask a question that might lead them to who had killed Gracey's mother.
“I was set up; there is no way I could have killed that man. I only hit him once. It’s as if they were trying to get me out of the way,” John continued.
“What happened that night Daddy? I know what I heard at your trial, but what really happened? What didn’t you say?” Gracey asked, begging for the truth.
“Gracey, I know I let you down. I know I went to Paddy’s too much after your momma died. But I did not kill that man. I was sitting there minding my own business. Sure I had one too many to drink. There were three men in the back, playing pool. And for no reason, one comes up and sits near me. He says to me ‘You’re Newsome, right’ and I shake my head yes.
“I looked at the back of the bar, and I see these other two guys laughing. It was weird. There was something about their eyes. They were dark and sinister. But anyway, this guy next to me start talking about your momma’s murder and saying things a man ought not to say about another man’s wife. I tried to ignore him, but after he called your momma a b…” John hung his head in despair unable to say the word out loud.
“It was more than I could take; someone talking about my dear Mayra that way. So I stood up and punched him. But I was too drunk Gracey, I barely hit him. Then the two guys in the back come rushing up, and the next thing I know a man is on the floor dead.”
“Do you know who the men were?” Stone asked, in hopes of learning something that could tie the men to Mayra’s murder.
“No. And they left immediately. When the cops showed up, no one remembered seeing them. All they remembered was me hitting the man, who died.”
“Gracey, I swear, I did not kill him,” John reiterated, hoping Gracey would believe him and know he was not a murderer. John could not tell her everything, but he could give her a few clues to help with finding the truth. And more importantly, he needed her to know he was still a good man. “But I could not have imagined them. I remember their eyes, and I remember how they smelled. They smelled like they worked on a farm; maybe a slaughter house. They smelled like animal blood.”
“Mr. Newsome, can you tell me more about their eyes?” Stone asked.
“Like I said, they were dark, almost like they weren’t there. But when the men moved closer, it was like their eyes glowed; glowing green eyes. And here is the real crazy part; I swear I saw them in the courtroom during the trial. I told my lawyer, but since no one could collaborate they were at Paddy’s, there was nothing I could do.”
Stone remembered the men in the club the night of Gracey’s birthday. Their eyes were the same. But what is the connection?
“Daddy, I need to ask you a real tough question. Please, I need to know,” Gracey told her father begging for the truth. “We, Stone and I, found a newspaper clipping from 1987. It was about Mommy being attacked, and Mrs. Birch being killed. We went to talk to Mr. Birch, and he would not talk about Mommy’s attack. He said to ask you. What happened that night?” Gracey asked.
John recanted the story almost verbatim of what Mr. Birch told them. “When we got to them, Mrs. Birch was near death, and your mother was on the ground, her clothes ripped off with scratches across her body. She was crying hysterically; they had ….” And he stopped.
“I am sorry Gracey, but this is all I can tell you,” John said and refused to finish his sentence.
The trio sat in silence for several minutes.
Gracey and Stone stood to leave. Gracey and her father and embraced. As Gracey turned to leave, John asked, “Are you still seeing Dr. Robertson? Don’t you have an appointment on Monday?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Are you eating your red meat?” John asked.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“I love you, Gracey.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
Gracey turned before her father could see the tears in her eyes, and she walked away.
Once Gracey and Stone were in the parking lot Stone turned to Gracey. “You have an appointment on Monday with Dr. Robertson?” Stone asked.
“Yes, Monday evening. It is a monthly thing; since I became a woman.” And then she lowered her head in embarrassment. It is a woman thing. Stone did not ask, but her inference indicated exactly what she was thinking.
“And what was the question about eating red meat?”
“Every month before the shot I eat a rare steak. Dr. Robertson says it replaces the blood my body loses. It makes me feel better, so I do it,” Gracey answered.
“I have an appointment, as well. But mine is for my allergies, me, and my mother. As you may have noticed I do not eat much red meat, but I eat a steak each month before the shot, and it seems to help the side effects of the allergy shot. Dr. Robertson cannot explain why but if it works, one steak a month cannot be harmful,” Stone told Gracey with his instincts telling him something did not ring true.
“Maybe this is one of those things we need to add to the whiteboard,” Gracey suggested, and they laughed.
Since Stone counted Saturday as an official work day, they took a break from the investigation on Monday, and they it spent separately preparing for their monthly Doctor’s appointment. They knew after getting their shots; they would spend the rest of the night and most of the next morning sleeping. After their traditional dinner of extra rare steak, each at their respective homes, Stone called Gracey to say goodnight.
Gracey had not given Stone the details of her monthly visit with Dr. Robertson. She did not tell him; it was the first night of her cycle. She did not tell him about the pain, while dulled by the painkillers, or about the nightmares. Not only did Gracey not want Stone to know, but also it was too early in their relationship to be sharing those details of her life.
Soon after dinner, Dr. Robertson arrived at the boarding house. Gracey had already changed into her night clothes and was in her room. Ms. Maple escorted Dr. Robertson upstairs and chaperoned the visit. As Dr. Robertson was preparing the needle, Gracey asked, “How long have you been our family doctor?”
“All your life,” Dr. Robertson replied. “Actually it was right after your mother was atta….” He stopped mid-word. “It was about
the time she found out she was pregnant with you.”
“But not before then?”
“No, Mrs. Rudolph referred her to me.”
“You take care of the Rudolphs too?”
“Yes, honey, I take care of a lot of people in Lone Hill,” Dr. Robertson replied with a chuckle. Dr. Robertson gave Gracey the shot and left. Ms. Maple tucked Gracey in and settled in for a long night.
Around noon the next day, Gracey awoke. Ms. Maple had left the room. Ms. Maple would stay until daybreak and then go to her room and sleep. Gracey called Stone. “Are you up yet?”
“Yes, just woke up a few minutes ago. How are you feeling?” Stone asked.
“A bit groggy. The pain killers always seem to leave me a bit tired, but it will wear off after a strong cup of coffee,” Gracey told Stone.
“A double espresso for me,” Stone confessed, and they laughed.
“Why don’t we spend the afternoon down by the creek and just relax? If we need to, we can take a nap and feel human again,” Stone suggested.
“That sounds great. I will be ready to go when you get here,” Gracey replied and smiled. She instantly felt a bit of energy returning.
Stone arrived forty-five minutes later, and they drove to Emerald Knoll. The golf cart was waiting, packed with a light brunch, drinks and a blanket. Stone drove the golf cart as fast as was safe to the creek. It was now their spot. Gracey loved it as much as Stone did.
Gracey walked over to the creek to dip her toes into the cool water while Stone spread out a blanket. When she turned to walk back, she saw Stone had scattered hundreds of lavender rose petals on and around the blanket. She walked back with a smile. “Stone, why lavender roses?”
“They smell like you.”
“Like me?”
“Yes, everyone has their own scent. I when I inhale your scent it has just a hint of spice,” Stone replied.
“That is what Ms. Maple said too,” Gracey said, a bit surprised. “You smell sweet,” Gracey told Stone.
“Sweet?”
“Well, sweet and musky. I like it.”
They spent the afternoon, staring at the sky and each other.
After leaving the golf cart at the stable, they stopped at the Stone’s home office. On the table, in the entryway, was another gift basket. Gracey shook her head, “This is too much, Stone.”
“This one is not from me; it’s from Jim. Yes, Jim. It is a ‘Sorry you had to leave Africa early’ gift. Things for your scrapbook,” Stone explained.
Gracey peeked into the basket. Inside were things to remind her of her trip to Africa, things she didn’t have a chance to collect before leaving so abruptly. There were photos and postcards, brochures and menus, a collection of the hotel soap and shampoo. Jim had added a surprise; a snow globe of the meditation garden.
“It is perfect,” Gracey sighed and smiled.
After repacking the basket to carry home, Gracey walked over to the whiteboard. She picked up a dry erase marker and added a couple of clues: Dr. Robertson and his monthly visits on the same day, red meat, and she circled the word ‘eyes.'
“Stone, tomorrow, I want to go back to the library and see if there are more photos of the courtroom the day my father was convicted. And then on Thursday, I want to see the police evidence of my mother’s attack and her murder.”
Stone stood in awe. Gracey was now telling him what to do.
“Nine o’clock?” Stone asked, almost subservient.
“Yes,” Gracey answered.
By half past nine, Stone and Gracey were walking back into the library. Stone was almost running trying to keep up. Gracey walked straight to Mrs. Grady and announced they would need the private viewing room again. “And I need everything you can find on my father’s arrest and trial, especially photographs. Do you have any contacts at the Lone Hill Journal? I need photos of the people in the courtroom,” Gracey told Mrs. Grady, taking charge.
Stone stood silent, eyes wide open and smiling. Mrs. Grady glanced at Stone for his approval, and Stone told her, “Like the lady said,” and beamed smugly. Just days ago, Gracey was frightened and meek, and now she was a force to be reckoned with.
Mrs. Grady gave Gracey the key to the room and told her, she would be up in a few minutes. Gracey took the key and was in the room and on the computer in a matter of moments. Stone was running again to keep up. The trial had lasted a few weeks, but there were few photos of the spectators. Mrs. Grady walked in a few minutes later with a folder. Inside were some photos of the trial and the name and telephone number of a local reporter.
Gracey and Stone looked at the photos, but there were none of the court galleries. Stone called the number Mrs. Grady had given them. After a brief introduction, knowing his name carried more clout, Stone set up an appointment for later in the afternoon.
Gracey had Stone drive her to the boarding house to change. Gracey knew the reputation of the reporter, Trent Kennedy. He liked the ladies and especially the pretty ones. Gracey would need something a little flirtier than a tight pair of jeans.
After preparing a light lunch of salad and tea, Gracey changed into a dress. As she descended the stairs, Stone noticed Gracey wearing the peach dress she had worn only a few days before to visit her father. Gracey shrugged as she caught his glance. “You look beautiful,” Stone told her. “Mr. Kennedy doesn't stand a chance.”
Trent Kennedy had been a reporter in Lone Hill for almost twenty years. He was balding prematurely and had a bit of a potbelly. Kennedy had been fairly handsome in his youth and popular with the ladies. But despite getting older and less attractive, he still looked upon himself as a catch. Stone know this ruse would have to be reversed. He would need to be a silent participant. Gracey would have to run the show.
Stone and Gracey entered Trent’s office, and after the Southern pleasantries, Gracey asked about the photos they were searching for. “We are trying to find photos of people in the courtroom the day my daddy was convicted,” Gracey told Trent. Stone stood out of the limelight, to ensure Gracey could work her magic on Trent.
“Of course, little lady, anything for you,” Trent said with a leer.
Creepy, Gracey thought. But if it works I can always take a shower later.
”Sorry about my filing system, I will find the disc in a moment. It was 2006, right?”
“Yes sir, Mr. Kennedy, November 2006,” Gracey added.
“Darlin', call me Trent.”
Make that a long shower.
“I am not sure I have many shots from inside the courtroom. They normally don’t like us to take photos while court is in session.”
Gracey hung her head in sadness. “I am looking for two men,” Gracey explained, “two men with dark, sinister-looking eyes.”
Trent found the disc and was scanning through the photos. “I remember two men leaving the courtroom with dark eyes. I remember the photo now. I think I have the one you want.”
Gracey smiled sweetly.
“I remember it because when they left the courtroom with the crowd, they were smiling. I remember wondering why and took their picture. Both had scary dark eyes, but when I was reviewing the proofs later, their eyes were yellow-green almost glowing, I thought it was just the flash.”
Gracey looked back at Stone. I know these are the two men we are looking for.
Trent found the photo and printed a copy for Gracey. “Is there anything else I can help you with, sweetie?” Trent asked, with a wink and gazed at Gracey too long.
I think I am going to need another bottle of bath gel and an endless supply of hot water.
“No, Mr. Kennedy, I mean Trent. Well, maybe, I am looking for photos of a crime scene from 1987. Do you anyone who may be able to help me?”
“1987, sorry. That was before my time,” Trent replied. “Wait, we have archives, but it would take too long to search. Plus, there's no need for a pretty young thing like you to have to search through dusty old boxes and
mess up that pretty dress of yours. But I know a guy in the evidence room at the police station who may help. Let me get you the name.” Trent wrote down the name, and Gracey thanked him.
Stone took Gracey by the hand and led her out of the office. Once outside, Gracey shuddered as if she was trying to shake the dirt off of herself. “I need a long hot shower, and I am burning this dress. I don’t think I could ever wear it again and not be creeped out.”
“One hot shower and a new dress coming up,” Stone replied. “I think I am going to need a shower myself. But we got what we needed. Sorry, you had to endure that. Let’s stop by Merriman’s and get you a new dress, maybe two,” Stone announced.
“Stone, you cannot just keep buying me clothes,” Gracey declared.
“Just another expense,” Stone replied and grinned.
“Does it have to be Merriman’s?” Gracey inquired. “There are other stores we can shop at. Stores that are less expensive and I won’t have to feel so guilty.”
“But I have already set up an account for you at Merriman’s.”
“You’ve what?”
“Gracey if you need something, just let me know. Do not feel guilty. If you need a new dress, see Alfred, and he will help you. I like buying things for you. I like seeing you smile. You are a beautiful woman who deserves beautiful things. Do not ever feel guilty. If I can give you a few minutes of happiness to make up for all the pain you are going through right now, then it is what I am going to do.”
“Well, I did see a couple of dresses that caught my eye the last time I was there,” Gracey replied halfhearted, knowing she would not win the argument. Nor could she afford the clothing she would need to complete the investigation.
“Good. Now sit back and enjoy the journey.” And with a happy grin, Stone winked.
Soon Stone and Gracey were at Merriman’s. Gracey picked out a couple new summer dresses; a pale blue dress with ruffles down the bodice and a mint green one with an empire waist. Stone picked out a new pair of jeans and some summer weight linen shirts for himself.
Amelia followed Gracey assisting her, selecting accessories for each dress. “I see you like large purses,” Amelia commented. “I have the perfect tote to go with these summer dresses. Let me get one for you.”
Gracey went to the counter with her selections. Both Alfred and Stone nodded in approval. “These will look beautiful on you,” Alfred told her. Gracey blushed and took a few steps back.
“Where are you going, Gracey?” Stone asked, refraining from laughing. “It’s your turn to pay.”
Gracey stood there with her eyes wide open. “Pay? I…I...”
Stone could not stifle his laugh any longer. “Gracey, I have set up an account for you. Now get up here and put these things on your account.” And then he winked at Alfred.
Gracey had only once thrown something at Stone, and it was a napkin during the flight back from Africa. And she was ready to throw something again. But looking around she could not find anything that would not leave a mark. So will all the humility and composure she could muster, Gracey walked to the counter, checked out the items and told Mr. Merriman, “Put it on my account.” Then she turned a walked away almost stomping her feet to let Stone know she was miffed.
“Send me a bill,” Stone added while holding onto the counter. He was laughing so hard, he could barely stand.
“So what time do you want to get started tomorrow?” Stone asked Gracey when they reached the boarding house.
“Let’s meet for breakfast. Then I will call the guy who works the evidence room and learn what time he works. I would do it now but...” Gracey noticed the Cheshire grin still on Stone’s face from his stunt at the boutique. “Stone that was not funny,” Gracey told him, still tight-lipped.
But all Stone could do was laugh again. Then he reached over and kissed her lightly on the cheek and meekly whispered, “I am sorry.”
After helping Gracey inside with her purchases, Stone left for the evening.
The next morning, Stone arrived for breakfast, coffee, and toast. Gracey was wearing the mint green dress. It was obvious from the look in Stone’s eyes green was his favorite color. Hoping her feminine charm would work two days in a row, Gracey called the officer who worked the evidence room. She was pleased to find he was working the day shift. Gracey explained she was searching for an item that may be in one of the boxes from an old crime and asked if she could stop by and check. Of course, the officer agreed.
Not wanting to look too eager, they waited about an hour, and Stone drove Gracey to the Lone Hill Police Station. Gracey asked for Officer Leon Paris and was given directions to the evidence room. Originally, Gracey was going to go alone, but they decided Stone would accompany her in case she needed to distract the officer while Stone grabbed the photos.
Gracey approached the fenced-in area first. She introduced herself and advised Officer Paris she was hoping to find the necklace her mother was wearing the night she was attacked in 1987. Gracey told Leon her father had told her the necklace was an heirloom from her grandmother, but she had not seen it since the night of the attack. When Gracey told him how she so wanted to wear it on her wedding day, Leon could not deny her request. And in she went. Remembering the words Trent Kennedy had said the day before, “Leon, it would be a shame for me to get my brand new dress all dusty, can my fiancée help me look?”
“You know I could get in trouble for this,” Leon told Gracey nervously.
“We will just be a minute,” Gracey replied, so sweet and innocently.
“Oh, okay. But don’t take long.”
Leon led Gracey and Stone to the box from 1987, took it off the shelf and put in on the table. As Gracey was searching for the imaginary necklace, Stone noticed another box from the night Mayra was killed. Stone got Gracey's attention, and she knew just what to do. Pulling the photos and other items from the 1987 attack out of the box and pretending to search for the non-existent necklace, Gracey intentionally knocked the box over. Of course, she was soon covered with dust. “Oh no,” she pouted. “Now my new dress is all dirty. Do you have a tissue I can clean up with?” As Gracey spoke, she guided Leon away from the table.
Stone quickly opened the box from 2006 and took the photos out. Then he eased to the table and took some photos from the 1987 attack. As Leon and Gracey were returning Stone pretended to be reloading the first box, and without Leon noticing, he slid a necklace out of his pocket, held it out and exclaimed, “I found it.”
Gracey called out in jubilation. “Oh honey, how wonderful,” and hugged Stone around his neck. “We better hurry. We’ll be late for our appointment with the caterer if we don’t go now.” Gracey and Stone left quickly nearly running.
“I am never playing poker with you again!” Stone declared. “You have gotten too adept at this.”
“But where did the necklace come from?” Gracey questioned.
“I picked it up at Merriman’s yesterday. It is just a piece of costume jewelry but pretty enough to trick Leon.” And then Stone put it around her neck. It was an elongated oval shaped locket, silver-colored, intricately woven and old-fashioned on a silver colored chain.
From the police station, Stone and Gracey went to Stone’s home office. It was quiet and private. And the privacy was paramount while they examined the photos. Upon arrival, Stone put them on the table, face down. They both stared at the stack, no one moving, no one speaking, no one picking them up. “Do you want me to look at them first?” Stone asked. “Looking for your mother’s killer is one thing, but these photos…we don’t know how gruesome they might be.”
“I cannot do it,” Gracey sobbed and walked away. Stone did not follow. He needed to look at the photos while he still had the courage. He looked out the window, and when he saw Gracey walking through the flower gardens, he picked up the first stack.
These were the photos from 1987. Stone was looking not just for photos of
Mayra but photos of the crowd. Stone had seen at least one photo with his mother in it, and maybe there were more. Stone found the photos of Mayra. Her clothes were in shreds. There were long deep gashes across her torso. Another photo showed the bruises on her inner thighs. Omigod, she was raped. Gracey cannot see this. He put the photo into the paper shredder while fighting his gag reflex. He continued to look the photos and found one with his mother in it. As he looked closer, Stone noticed she was conversing with Dr. Robertson, and she was on one side of the yellow police tape and Dr. Robertson on the other; on the inside. Was Dr. Robertson the doctor of record for the attack?
Then Stone looked at the photos from 2006. Mayra’s body was totally mutilated, torn to pieces, pieces of flesh and muscle throughout the room mixed with cloth from her clothing and the bed linens. The room was destroyed. He then looked at the photos that were taken outside of the house. He saw them again; the men with the sinister eyes.
Stone sorted the photos into stacks, those to show to Gracey and those he would spare her from seeing. As he finished, Gracey came back in.
“Tell me what you found,” Gracey asked fearfully.
“Your mother was badly beaten in 1987. Based on the photos, I am amazed she survived. I can understand why she suffered from PTSD. I understand why she never left the house,” Stone told her.
“Show me.”
Stone pulled out a photo showing the deep cuts across Mayra’s torso. Gracey screamed in horror. The gashes reminded her of the ones she saw in Africa on the antelope. Gracey jumped up and started running down the hall. Stone raced after her and into the bathroom. Stone held Gracey's hair while she vomited.
After brushing her teeth, Gracey and Stone returned to the main portion of the office.
“Tell me what you found and you can write on the boards,” Gracey suggested while trying to find her equanimity.
“Dr. Robertson was at both crime scenes.
“Your mother’s body was mutilated both times. And her clothes shredded.
“And the men with the sinister eyes were in the crowd the night your mother was killed.”
“We have to find these men,” Gracey declared. “They were there the night my mother was killed, and at the bar the night my father allegedly killed that man, and in the courtroom the day my father was convicted. I am certain they killed my mother and the man at Paddy's Pub. Daddy kept saying he was set up. They wanted him out of the way. But why? Why? If we can find them and the truth, maybe we can get my father out of prison.”
Gracey broke down, crying hysterically. Stone held her, stroking her back trying to calm her. But he knew Gracey needed to cry it out. Stone swept her up in his arms and carried her to the sleeping quarters and laid her on the bed and held her until she cried herself to sleep. Stone did not tell her the men with the sinister eyes were in the nightclub the night of their birthday. He was afraid Gracey would never leave her house again. Stone did not want Gracey to live the same life her mother had.
It was almost evening when Gracey woke up. Stone was sitting in an overstuffed chair watching over her. Knowing she was not alright, he asked instead if she was hungry. “Why don’t you wash up? And then we will eat. I hope you like Chinese.”
Gracey loved Chinese food but did not eat it often. Both Ms. Maple and Gracey were frugal, and besides, Ms. Maple was the best cook in the county. When Stone and Gracey entered the smaller conference area, Gracey noticed the white boards were gone as were the photos. The table had been set up for dinner to include a table cloth, candles and, of course, a vase of lavender roses and with one yellow one.
Dinner quickly turned into an evening of fun and laughter. Stone tried, again and again, to teach Gracey how to eat with chopsticks. But both were certain more food ended up on the floor than into Gracey’s mouth. At the end of the meal, they each picked up a fortune cookie. Gracey broke hers open, and the fortune read, ‘Your journey continues, it will be a happy one.'
Emerald Eyes Page 8
