Who Killed the Neanderthal

by Cheryl Zelenka

  With nothing more she could do, Sadie set her hat on solving Larry’s murder. She needed to stay busy and also trust that God would answer her prayer.

  When she walked into the police station, Sadie found Dora and Timothy pouring over paperwork.

  “Whatcha’ looking at?”

  Dora got up and gave Sadie a hug.

  “I’m so glad you’re here. We really do need your help.”

  Timothy put his arm around her shoulder and she leaned into it.

  “I know you do, silly.” Sadie didn’t want to leave the comfort of Timothy’s embrace but grabbed a spare chair and put on a brave face. “Mark’s posting Lost Dog signs all over town, and I’ve done everything I can think of to get Bosco and Willow back home. I don’t know what got into them. They always come when I call, well, Willow does. Bosco may have selective hearing but he isn’t deaf!”

  “Sadie, I’ve already put a doggie Amber alert out there, and my officers have been informed of their great escape. My whole team is on the lookout for Bosco, Willow, and Scott’s snow cone trailer. If nothing turns up by tomorrow morning, I’ll make a personal visit to his house to see if he’s holed up there. It’s all very suspicious but we don’t have any reason to arrest Scott, yet. It isn’t a crime to pack things in early during Boatnik. Besides, we have pressing DNA evidence that requires our attention.”

  “I’m listening”

  Dora handed her the papers on her desk while Timothy took his seat.

  “I sent Officer Stoltzfus to Scott and Burt’s homes last night in order to retrieve DNA samples. As you probably recall, I told him to use Buccal swabs. Fortunately, they both complied and we were able to run tests comparing their DNA to the DNA found on the cigarettes behind the snow cone trailer and in Larry’s garage. There was a match.” Dora paused for dramatic effect. Sadie waited. Dora just smiled.

  “Really? This isn’t CSI or Dragnet, Dora. Just tell me. Do the cigarettes belong to Scott or Burt?”

  “Burt.” Dora put her hands on her hips.

  “So, that means you’re calling him in for questioning?”

  “I already did. He should be here any minute and I’d like you to do the questioning. You’ve already built a comfortable rapport with him, so I’m hoping he’ll open up to you. I can play the bad cop if need be, or Timothy.” O’Cleary flexed a bicep. Sadie and Dora both rolled their eyes.

  “We also got the results on the paw prints. It’s a perfect match to Bubba, Sarah La Compost’s dog. I hate the idea of calling her down for questioning, considering the Chef is still at the morgue. But, I want to find the killer quick and put this mystery to bed.”

  Not five minutes later, Burt walked through the doors.

  “Long time, no see, Ms. Sunshine! I guess you had to change out of your clown costume sooner or later. Did your dogs enjoy the parade?”

  “Hi Burt. Yes, they did. In fact, I believed they enjoyed it so much they decided not to come home. They ran off while I was eating lunch at Riverside Park.”

  Burt was very sympathetic and listened to the rest of her story while she led him to a conference room. Timothy and Dora found their way to the observation room and sat back to watch Sadie work her magic.

  “So Burt, we called you down to the station because we discovered your DNA on some cigarettes, one was in Larry’s garage. Several others were behind Scott’s snow cone trailer. They were Lucky Strikes and close to where we found Larry’s body.”

  Burt tilted his head sideways but remained silent.

  “Burt, we want to clear you of any suspicion as quick as possible. This is just a formality. So, why were you smoking a cigarette in Larry’s garage?”

  Burt smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Because I’m a chain smoker and was smoking a ciggy when I went over to Larry’s house to pick up my cooler. Remember? Scott asked if he could borrow it.”

  Well, so far he’s in the clear. He had every right to be in Larry’s garage, and he admits he was there.

  “Oh yes, I remember now. So, then you dropped it off at the park?”

  “Yep.”

  “But, as I recall, you said you didn’t fill the cooler up with ice because you were pressed for time. You had some pressing matter, right?”

  “Yes, an appointment.”

  “Hmm, I think you said an unplanned appointment. So, Burt, what was the appointment?”

  Burt took a pack of Lucky Strikes out of his back pocket and looked at her with raised eyebrows. Reluctantly, Sadie nodded. Inhaling second-hand smoke in a small conference room was not her idea of fun. However, she wanted to keep Burt happy, just in case he had lied to her the other day.

  “I had a phone conference with a friend who is interested in hydroplanes. I owe him some money and assured him I’d pay back everything tomorrow, after I win the race.”

  Dora’s eyes connected with O’Cleary’s. She left the observation room to make a quick call requesting Burt’s financial records.

  “I see. So you’re pretty confident you’re getting the purse tomorrow.”

  “Yes-er-ree-dee-dee! I’m sure to win. The other racers are all amateurs. It’ll be like taking candy away from a baby.”

  “But, if you were in a hurry Wednesday; you did say you were in a hurry, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well then, why did you stick around and smoke three cigarettes? All of them were pretty much spent.”

  Burt bit his lip and looked as though he were contemplating some big decision. Looking at Sadie, he chuckled then slapped his thigh. “Well, Ms. Sunshine, you got me!

  I did have a phone conference, but I met Mary at the park before my phone call. We talked for a while, after I dropped off the icebox.”

  This is getting interesting. Mary said she hated the Memorial Day crowds and did her best to avoid them.

  “You were meeting with Mary because…”

  “Because I wanted to rekindle our romance. I love her, Sadie. She’s amazing. We get along great, especially since we broke up. I wanted to try dating again.”

  “So, did she meet you? Did she have Bubba with her?”

  “Bubba’s not her dog, remember? Bubba belongs to her sister, Sarah.”

  Sadie played dumb. “Oh, that’s right. I’ve met so many new people lately, and Otterhounds. I’m getting everybody mixed up.”

  Burt laughed with her but added, “No, Mary didn’t have a dog with her.”

  “So, did you patch things up? Are you back together?

  “She’s thinking about it.”

  Sadie scribbled a few notes down then stood up.

  “Burt, I can’t see any reason why Detective Flores would arrest you for smoking cigarettes or chatting with Mary. I’m pretty sure you’re free to go.”

  Burt stood up and shook Sadie’s hand. She then opened the door and walked him down the hallway where Dora and Timothy were waiting.

  “Mr. Welton, thanks for coming down. You’re free to go home.” Dora shook his hand and they all waved as Burt left the building. The minute the door closed behind him Sadie began to talk.

  “Well, you guys, I think we need to call Mary Walker down here for further questioning. She told me she stays home over Memorial Day and far from the Boatnik festivities. She lied to me. It could be she didn’t want to mention she rendezvoused with Burt to discuss their relationship, but still, we should tie up all lose ends. It’ll make Mayor Phibbs happy. Besides, Burt and Mary are friends. Why didn’t they just talk at one of their homes? Why go to Riverside Park?”

  “Good point! But before I make the call, let me tell you about the print results of the three Otterhounds. It came in while you were interviewing Burt.” Sadie was all ears. “We already know forensics determined the print belongs to an Otterhound. Well, Bubba, Sarah La Compost’s dog, made the print. It turns out he has a scar on his right center paw pad that helped in determining the match. That means Bubba and, most likely, Sarah were at the park around the time Larry’s body was deposited. We also know it rained Tuesday an
d Wednesday, but not Thursday. That sets the time for when the imprint was made. We need to talk to Sarah as well as Mary.”

  Dora went to make the call. However, before she could even dial the number, her cell phone rang. Surprisingly, it was Sarah La Compost on the other end.

  “Detective Flores,” Sarah’s voice cracked, “I just found, um. I just found a note…from my husband.”

  “Really. Can you read it to me?”

  “Uh huh.” She heard a few sniffles on the other end of the phone. “He wrote, I’m sorry, Sarah. I can’t live with the guilt. I killed Larry.”

  Dora didn’t miss a beat. She waved Sadie and Timothy over to hear the rest of her conversation. Whispering, “The death notification officer must have given Sarah my cell phone number.” They both nodded their heads.

  “Where was it, Mrs. La Compost? Where did you find the suicide note?”

  Sadie and Timothy shook their heads in disbelief.

  “On my bedroom dresser.” Sarah started to sob and another voice came on the line. “Hello? Hello? This is Mary Welton.”

  “Sadie took the phone from Dora. Hello Mary. This is Ms. Sunshine. We met yesterday.”

  There was a pause, then, “Yes, I remember meeting you. Sadie, right?”

  “That’s right, Mary. I’m so sorry for your sister’s loss.”

  The silence on the other end of the phone made it abundantly clear that Mary wasn’t nearly as sorry about the Chef’s passing as her sister.

  “Anyway,” continued Sadie, “I’m at the police station with Detective Flores, she’s my friend. Could you possibly drive your sister to the police station? We’d like to chat with both of you and get a few details clarified. We’ll update you on when we can release Chef La Compost’s body. We know Sarah has a funeral to plan.” Mary told Sadie she’d gather up her bereaved sister and drive immediately to the police station.

  As Sadie hung up, Officer Stoltzfus handed Dora a letter with no return address. She quickly opened it and read the short sentence typed on a single piece of paper. Holding it up for Timothy and Sadie to read, she wasn’t surprised by their looks of disbelief.

  The first to recover, Sadie asked, “Could this case get any stranger?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN: A Note, A Letter, And A Telling Phone Call

  Chef Francis Compost killed Larry Phibbs.

  Sadie picked up the envelope. It had no return address or stamp, just printed postage.

  “The person who sent this letter used a postal meter. They might have a home business.”

  “You can’t own a postal meter. You have to rent it.”

  “That’s correct, Detective O’Cleary.” Sadie gaveTimothy a wink. “So, we need to track down its registration number and the manufacturer. With that information, we’ll know who sent this letter in no time flat.”

  Dora left to make the necessary calls. Timothy made a run to Dutch Brothers for some coffee. Left all alone, Sadie decided to check in with Mark.

  “Hey there, neighbor. Any news? Did you find my dogs?”

  “I’m sorry, Sadie, not yet. I just put up the last of the posters. I’m now heading back to East Park Street and then I’ll drive down Cowstream Road again. If Bosco and Willow are on either one of those streets I’ll see them. That Court Jester outfit Bosco’s wearing should be a cinch to spot.” Sadie hung her head and held back the tears building up behind her eyes.

  “Chin up, Sadie Sunshine. I’m on the job. Don’t fret! They’ll be home in no time at all.” Sadie did her best to shake off her fear and feeling of helplessness. Thanking Mark for all his help, she said good-bye. She then called the dog rescues and Humane Society to see if any dogs fitting Bosco and Willow’s description were dropped off. Unfortunately, their answer was no.

  Dora returned just as Timothy walked through the front door holding three Dutch Brothers coffee cups. Sadie hung up with Lucky Dog Rescue and thanked O’Cleary for the Java Juice. Doing her best to keep back a waterfall of tears, she told them Bosco and Willow were still missing. Afraid that she’d fall apart if either one tried to comfort her with niceties, Sadie asked Dora if she had uncovered anything regarding Burt’s financial situation. Dora nodded as she took a big swig of coffee.

  “He’s broke, Sadie. I mean he’s really broke. The bank is about to foreclose on his house. He’s got his hydroplane, but even that isn’t his. About three weeks ago Francis La Compost purchased it.”

  Sadie thought back to the interview she just had with Burt Welton, less than 30 minutes ago. “You know, Burt mentioned he owed money to a person interested in hydroplanes. I wonder if he was referring to Chef La Compost.”

  Dora sat down at her desk. “This case is getting so complicated! Burt’s starting to look suspicious again and Chef La Compost is now my prime suspect, now that a confession was written into his suicide note.”

  “Yes, but the timing of the warning letter and suicide note almost seem contrived,” remarked Timothy.

  “I agree! It’s almost like there’s some kind of set up. The Chef is dead. Someone is accusing Francis of murderer but can’t speak up for himself.”

  Sadie looked at Dora, waiting for any thoughts she might want to add.

  “Well, we can always do a handwriting analysis on the suicide note,” she suggested. The conversation was then cut short as Mary and Sarah walked into the police station. Sarah’s hair was disheveled and she looked exhausted. Mary looked less worn. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt that read, “If my dog doesn’t like you, I probably won’t either.”Sadie stood and introduced the sisters to Dora and Timothy.

  Sarah handed Dora the suicide note. “I just can’t believe the words in this note. I admit, Francis was a bit hot-headed,” Mary scoffed her disapproval and shook her head,“but he wasn’t a murderer.”Sarah glared at her sister then continued. “He was under a lot of pressure to make Bite Me! a hit. And, well, he just couldn’t, he wouldn’t, hewould not kill Larry. Francis isn’t, I mean…he wasn’t good at managing things. You know, the business side of a restaurant. All Francis really wanted to do was create magnificent meals. Food was his life! He was so stressed the day after Larry’s body was discovered. He was overwhelmed that business duties had slipped to his shoulders, in addition to planning the menu and preparing food. That’s why he was interviewing new managers.” Sarah gave Sadie a look that could have melted asphalt. Obviously, Francis mentioned my visit to the restaurant with her before the car accident.

  Dora took the suicide note over to officer Stoltzfus. She told him to have a handwriting analysis done, comparing the note to the financial documents the bank had just faxed over. She suggested he fax things over to Portland, which would move things along a lot quicker.

  She then returned to the lobby where she found Mary alone, texting a message on her smart phone. Nodding in her direction, Dora then walked to the interview room where she found Sadie questioning Sarah while Timothy scribbled down notes. Note to self: Have Sadie consider a new career in law enforcement.

  “So, Mrs. La Compost. You weren’t in Rogue Valley on Wednesday?”

  “No. I was presiding over the Dreaming Zebra charity luncheon up in Portland. It’s a wonderful organization. It supports abused children of all ages and victims of domestic violence. They find healing through art. I went up Tuesday night and didn’t return until Thursday morning.”

  “Dreaming Zebra sounds like a worthwhile cause, Sarah. You were away for quite a while. Who took care of Bubba, or was he with you?”

  “No, unfortunately the Westin doesn’t permit dogs on the grounds, unless they’re service dogs, of course. I put Francis in charge of Bubba. He promised to take him by the restaurant for a treat. He always has a juicy bone in the kitchen. Bone broth is a popular Bite Me! menu item.”

  Dora stepped in and relieved Sadie. “Mrs. La Compost. I understand you have a funeral to plan. You have my most sincere condolences. The morgue just called to say the Chef is ready for transportation, but they need to know which funeral parlor you plan to us
e. Why don’t you give them a call while we speak with your sister?” Dora handed Sarah a phone number and escorted her to the lobby. She then directed Mary down the hall and into the tiny interview room.

  Sadie couldn’t help but marvel at Mary’s muscles rippling through her T-shirt. She noticed Timothy’s jaw drop when Mary picked up the solid oak interview table and move it, in order to comfortably occupy the seat that was wedged between the table and the wall.

  “Tight squeeze!” Mary smiled, resting her elbows on the table.

  “Yes, it is,” apologized Dora.

  Starting the interview as soon as everyone was settled, Dora asked, “Mary, Sadie told us you avoid the Boatnik Memorial Day festivities every year, due to the large influx of people.” Mary nodded her head.

  “But, Burt Welton said you two were at Riverside Park on Wednesday.” Sadie’s cell phone vibrated. Seeing the caller was Bobby Flint, she excused herself from the interview and left the room to take the call.

  Closing the door behind her, Sadie greeted Bobby with a cheerful, “It’s so nice to hear from you, Bobby.”

  “Hi, Ms. Sunshine.”

  “I’m always so pleased when a former student checks in to tell me how they’re doing. I’m glad you kept my number.”

  “Me too. In fact, I was hoping you could answer a question for me. You mentioned you’re helping the police with Larry Phibbs’ murder. I heard on the news that they found Chef La Compost’s car at the bottom of Grave Creek. They said he’s dead.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry to say it’s true, Bobby.”

  There was a pause on the other end but Sadie waited for him to ask his real question. “So, am I out of work? Is Bite Me! open for business?”

  “Boy, that’s a real good question. I would have thought Mrs. La Compost, or her sister, Mary Hunt, would have contacted all the employees to answer that question. You know what, both ladies are at the police station right now. I can ask Mrs. La Compost and call you back later. However, I’m guessing the restaurant will be closed for a few days.”