by Jeramy Gates
“You shouldn’t be walking.”
“I’m fine,” she said.
I noticed the low ringing in my eardrums from the gunshot. “The baby… her ears.” I pushed to my feet, grunting, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my hip.
“It’s okay,” Tanja said, pulling back the jacket so I could see Autumn’s face. “She’s still asleep.”
I leaned closer, frowning. “How in the...?” Then I saw the bright orange earplugs jammed into Autumn’s tiny, perfect little ears. A look of confused amazement washed over my features. “I forgot you had those.”
“It wasn’t easy getting them in,” she explained. “Autumn’s ears are tiny. I guess it worked, though.”
I turned the flashlight, throwing the beam across King’s lifeless body.
“That was a good shot,” I said. “Clever, coming down here after me. Did you have that planned the whole time?”
Tanja grinned wickedly. “Sorry for using you as bait. Somebody in this relationship has to do the thinking.”
For the second time that week, Tanja and I spent the night in the hospital. Only this time, we weren’t a couple. We were a family. It’s impossible to describe the way my life changed that night. I had nine months to prepare for that day, yet I still felt like it came out of nowhere. Suddenly, relatives were calling and showing up at the hospital, bringing gifts and flowers, taking pictures. It was a whirlwind that I wasn’t really prepared for. After all that had happened in the last few days, I couldn’t do much but sit there and just watch everything happening around me.
Sometime around noon the next day, the nurse chased everybody out so we could have some quiet time before going home. She brought us lunch trays, but I had no interest. I laid back in the chair with Autumn sleeping on my chest while Tanja pecked at our food. Diekmann stuck his head through the door with a grin a mile wide, and Tanja waved him in.
“How is she doing?” he said in a whisper.
“Great!” Tanja said. “Look at her, she’s a daddy’s girl.”
“Of course she is,” I said, chuckling. “She knows who the man of the house is.”
“Sure she does,” said Diekmann. “And pretty soon she’ll be telling the man of the house exactly what to do.”
“What’s going to happen now?” Tanja said. “I mean with the case?”
Diekmann grinned as he settled into one of the guest chairs. “I suppose it’s closed. I hired you to find out who killed Becky Sweet. You did that, and then some.”
“Not exactly,” I said. “We know it had to be either King or Pishard, but we can’t prove which one.”
“It had to be King,” Tanja said. “He knew about Becky’s investigation into her father’s murder. He’s the one who would have known the reporter was helping her.”
“Ah, but that’s not all,” Diekmann said with a sly grin. “On a hunch I ran the serial number on that old revolver, the one Becky’s father supposedly used to kill himself.”
“Was it registered?” I said.
“Nope, but the D.O.J. keeps a record of every gun sale in the state. Guess who I traced it back to.”
“Mr. King?” said Tanja.
Diekmann shook his head. “James Pishard.”
“Then Pishard killed Becky’s father,” Tanja said, her eyes growing wide. “Then that means the two of them had to be working together!”
“I’m sure of it,” said Diekmann.
“It does make sense,” I said. “If you think about it, Pishard was sleazy enough to try and pin Becky’s murder on his own son. He must have done that because he knew the investigation would go nowhere.”
“But all along he was lying to protect himself,” said Diekmann. “And that’s why the two of them killed Richard. That part of Pishard’s story was true. Richard was going to rat them out, so they killed him. Then Becky came along, and started getting too close to the truth.”
“And it all started with an accident,” Tanja said. “One accident led to all those murders.”
“It’s not over yet,” said Diekmann. “My office has been getting discomforting phone calls all morning.”
“Phone calls?” I said. “About what?”
“Your story made it into the papers. Several parents saw it, and called to tell us they believe Mr. King may have been sexually abusing their kids. As the word gets out, I expect we may be hearing more of that.”
“How horrible,” said Tanja.
“Oh, and one more thing…” he reached into his shirt pocket and produced a check that he handed to Tanja. “This is your fee.”
Tanja accepted it, and gasped as she read it. “Sheriff, this is for eight thousand dollars!”
“The way I see it, you didn’t just solve the one case I asked you to… you solved four murders. I’m paying you for all four cases. That’s the good news. The bad news is that I’m officially tapped out. I won’t have any more money in the coffers until the new fiscal year, so you two better make good of all this publicity.”
“Publicity?” said Tanja.
“Do you remember Mary Sinclair, the reporter? She’ll be following up on that TV interview, and she won’t be the only one. I expect your phone will be ringing off the hook by the time you get home. Think you’ll be up for it?”
“I think we’ll get some sleep first,” I said, glancing down at my baby girl.
Tanja sighed and leaned back against her pillow.
“Joe?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Take me home. I want to hold my baby and stare out the window at the redwoods.”
Chapter 15
Tanja
All’s well that ends well. Isn’t that how the old saying goes? Of course, if you’ve learned anything about Joe, you already know that wasn’t quite the end. Not yet. The real end came three weeks later.
We were at home. I had just put Autumn down for a nap in her room and Joe was in the living room, messing around on the computer. I poured a cup of coffee and went to see what he was working on. I found him surfing the Sequoia Marine Sports website.
“I thought they went out of business,” I said.
“They did. When Pishard died, that was the end of the company. The insurance company is auctioning off all the inventory.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” I said.
The rumble of a diesel engine out front and the squealing sound of brakes interrupted our conversation. Joe’s eyes lit up, and he jumped out of the chair.
“It’s here!” he said, running for the door.
“What? What’s here?”
I stared after him as he yanked the front door open and went racing outside. Tentatively, I pulled the living room curtains aside. I saw Diekmann’s old yellow truck out there. Behind it, on a rusty old trailer, rested a blue and white sailboat. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them back up, I saw Joe waving at me from the lawn.
“Check it out!” he shouted. “Tanja, get out here!”
I looked at the computer again and realized that Joe had been shopping for life vests and boat accessories. I heard baby Autumn cooing in the back room, and I hurried to pick her up. When I reached the crib, she was smiling up at me, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling in the afternoon light.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I said, picking her up. “I’m not surprised. I have a feeling your daddy isn’t going to let me get any sleep for a long time, either.”
The phone rang in the next room, and I hurried to pick it up.
“Hello?” I said.
“May I speak to Joe Shepherd?” said a woman’s voice. I frowned.
“He can’t come to the phone. Can I take a message?”
“Yes, please tell him Madelyn Cook called to confirm his therapy appointment for tomorrow afternoon.”
“He’ll be there,” I said with a smile turning up the corners of my mouth. “Count on it.”
The End
Keep reading for The Shepherds’ bonus interview below!
Thanks for reading He said, She s
aid “Murder.”
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He said, She said Detective Series
Valkyrie Smith Mystery/Thriller Series
Erased, a thriller
The Vigilante Killer (short story)
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Hank Mossberg, Private Ogre.
(Written as Jamie Sedgwick)
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Bonus Material:
The Interview
By Mary Sinclair for Channel 7 News, Santa Rosa
Mary: Today, I’m interviewing Joe and Tanja Shepherd, the owners of Sequoia County’s newest small business, the Autumn’s Hope Detective Agency. Let’s start at the beginning: How did the two of you get into the business of private investigation? It seems an unlikely choice for a young couple.
Joe: It’s a long story. We were both in law enforcement, and that’s how we met.
Mary: Did you work together?
Tanja: No, I was a Behavior Analyst for the FBI
Joe: She really gets into a person’s head. My wife can have a thirty-second conversation with a suspect and know everything about him.
Mary: Is that true?
Tanja: Joe is exaggerating. I simply observe a person’s body language, clothing, and so forth. I use that information to read a suspect. It’s a skill I’ve developed over many years.
Mary: Don’t be offended if I sound skeptical, but is it really possible to learn so much just from watching a person?
Tanja: You’d be surprised.
Mary: Alright… how about a demonstration?
Tanja glances at Joe. After an encouraging nod from her spouse, she begins to speak:
Tanja: You’re between the ages of twenty-eight and thirty. You’re single, have no kids, and you’ve never been married. You try to eat a healthy diet, but you starve yourself to stay fit, and you drink too much alcohol. You also like to tan, but you haven’t had time to lately. You drive a BMW, and you graduated from UC Berkeley.
Mary: Oh. My. God.
Joe: (laughing) She’s just getting warmed up.
Tanja: Should I go on?
Mary: (somewhat embarrassed) No, thank you very much. Did you really just imagine all of that?
Tanja: No, not imagined. Extrapolated.
Mary: From what?
Tanja: When Joe and I arrived for this interview, there were only three cars in the lot. It was logical to assume one of them belonged to you. The nicest was a BMW, which incidentally has a UC Berkeley sticker on the bumper. That vehicle seemed most likely owned by the highest ranking -and therefore highest paid- employee here today. Since you are the reporter and the others here are supporting staff, I naturally presumed the Beemer was yours. Later, as we passed your desk, I saw the BMW keychain hanging out of your purse and confirmed my suspicions.
I also saw that you had pictures of your parents in your office, but no photographs of children or a spouse. Also, you’re not wearing a wedding ring, and haven’t had a ring on that finger in some time, if ever. However, Valentine’s Day is this weekend and the fresh bouquet of roses and the box of chocolates on your desk implies that you have some sort of suitor. Probably male, based on the type of gift, and based on the way you looked at my husband when you thought I wasn’t looking.
Mary: Excuse me?
Tanja: It’s a perfectly normal reaction for a single woman. Married women do this also, without even realizing what they’re doing.
Mary: They do what, exactly?
Tanja: This is where the body language ties it all together. When we first met, you glanced at Joe, then at me, then at him again. You did a double take. The second time, you held your gaze. This action was subtle and probably subconscious, but it told me that you find Joe attractive and that you were sizing him up, so to speak. You also focused mostly on Joe during our conversation. You turned slightly to the side, opening yourself to him, while presenting your shoulder to me, a sign that you were subconsciously brushing me aside, or at least making Joe the focus of your attention.
Mary: I’m sorry if I did that. I didn’t mean to offend you.
Tanja: (waving Mary’s concerns aside) Not at all. Like I said, most of these actions are subconscious. The fact that you give out subconscious signals doesn’t necessarily imply you are willing to act on them. It simply means that you’re human; that you experience and react to emotions, just as we all do.
Mary: That’s a relief.
Tanja: Body language is really only half of it. The other half is observation. When you combine these skills, you can extrapolate information that no one would ever suspect.
Mary: Amazing. What about you, Joe? What kind of work do you do?
Joe: I was on the state’s Organized Crime Task Force. I’ve worked independently and in cooperation with other state and federal agencies, like the CBI, the ATF, the FBI, ICE, and a few others.
Mary: That’s a lot of letters. What exactly did you do?
Joe: (hesitates a moment before answering) I worked undercover.
Mary: So you’re like one of those guys in the movies? The ones who change their appearance and try to blend in with a gang, in order to catch the bad guys?
Joe: Something like that. It was my job to infiltrate different groups for various reasons. Sometimes we were running an investigation, looking for a specific person, other times we were just running a sweep, casting a wide net over as many criminals as possible.
Mary: That sounds very dangerous.
Joe: I’ve had close calls.
Mary: Is that what happened to your leg? I noticed when you came in for the interview that you were using a cane.
Joe: That happened on my very last case with the task force; the one where I met Tanja.
Mary: What happened?
(Joe glances at Tanja, and she takes up the story)
Tanja: Well, first of all, Joe and I did not get along at first. In fact, the first time we met, I arrested him. (They both laugh.)
Mary: Really?
Joe: She didn’t go easy on me, either. She called me a “scumbag” and nearly broke my arm cuffing me.
Tanja: He makes it sound so dramatic. Truth is, he was working undercover, so I had no idea who he really was. We just happened to be investigating the same gang. My team raided one of his gang’s facilities, and Joe got caught up in the mix. I saw him making a run for it, so I blindsided him.
Mary: That’s quite a story. It’s hard to imagine how the two of you ended up being married.
Tanja: Well, you asked about Joe’s leg. That was because of me. It happened when he was trying to save me. In fact, if Joe hadn’t gone over that roof, I might not be here today.
Mary: So he saved your life?
Tanja: Absolutely. He tackled the guy who was going to shoot me, and they both went off the roof of a four-story building. They landed on a parked car, with Joe on top.
Joe: (displaying his cane) I got hurt, but I survived. The other guy wasn’t so lucky.
Mary: I see.
Tanja: I went to see Joe in the hospital that night, and he asked me to marry him.
Mary: How romantic.
Joe: It wasn’t that romantic. She said “No.”
Mary: Seriously?
Joe: Seriously.
Tanja: Please, Joe. You were high on morphine. I was probably the third woman you had proposed to that night.
Mary: I don’t understand. If you didn’t get together that night, then when?
Tanja: After the incident, Joe’s team leader and my Special Agent in Charge came to an agreement to cooperate on the case. We were looking for a very specific criminal, someone Joe already had access to. I thought it was
a bad idea, but it wasn’t my call. They more or less forced us to work together.
Mary: I see. So that was the source of the tension between the two of you?
Tanja: Yes, that and his cocky attitude, and his recklessness.
Joe makes an exaggerated snort.
Tanja: Joe’s cover got blown. The gang decided to torture him for information. They were going to kill him, but my team figured out where Joe was being held, and we rescued him. That’s all. I was just doing my job.
Joe: (leans forward and whispers:) She doesn’t like to admit it, but she was madly in love with me from the first time we met.
Tanja: Oh, stop. Your ego is about to bust out the windows.
Joe: (Joe looks at Tanja, his blue eyes twinkling, a mischievous grin playing across his face.) Yeah? So how come you proposed to me?
(Tanja rolls her eyes)
Mary: So you both saved each other?
Tanja: Yes, you could say that.
Mary: So what about the detective agency? How did that get started?
Joe: After the accident, I couldn’t work undercover anymore because my leg never healed right. The doctors knew it was going to give me trouble for the rest of my life. Some days I can walk okay, but when there’s a storm coming, I might as well be in a wheelchair. The task force offered me a desk job, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t imagine just sitting there day after day, punching a keyboard, answering phones. I left the force and they gave me a pension settlement.
Tanja: Which, like an idiot, he immediately used as a down payment on our house.
Joe: Absolutely. I was starting a family. It was either buy a house while I could, or just wait for that money to trickle away and have nothing.
Tanja: I suppose you did the right thing, but you could have asked me first.
Joe: Isn’t that just like a woman? She wants the man to take control, but when he does, she just wants to complain about it.
