by A M Ialacci
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Hey, are you about done? I’ve got a doctor’s appointment. I thought I’d drop you on the way.”
“I’m all set here,” she said, handing him one of the flash drives. “Here are the photos, and why don’t you let me come to the doctor’s office with you?”
“If you really want to,” Will said.
“I really do,” she said.
“Let’s hit it, then.” They walked out the front door, Will waving to the duty officer.
Cleo climbed into the passenger seat, and when Will had started the cruiser, she said,” Is that place always that crazy?”
“It is during Founders Day week. People are on high alert and ready to report their neighbors for looking at them sideways.”
“Again, I say, ‘Nice town! Why would anybody choose to live here?’”
Will gave her a look and said, “And I was about to tell you before you insulted me at your house. It’s because the people we love live here too.”
Cleo bit her tongue and did not say that there wasn’t much keeping someone here who had no one to love.
Will parked on the street at Doctor Phillip’s office, which was actually a small house on Parker Street. “You don’t need to come in if you don’t want to,” he said, but she was already stepping out of the car and up the concrete walk to the door. He joined her on the porch and opened the door, allowing her to pass through before him.
Once inside, Cleo sat while Will checked in with Miss Roberta. “It’ll just be a moment,” she told Will and glanced at Cleo, who smiled sweetly back at her.
When Roberta called his name a few minutes later, Cleo stood with him and he turned. “You aren’t going in with me, you know.”
“Yes, I am. It was my dog that bit you. I want to know what kind of damage he did.”
Will hesitated long enough for Cleo to slip around him into the examining room. Will caught Roberta’s eye and she shrugged. He shook his head and then followed Cleo into the exam room.
Doctor Phillips came into the room and looked over his glasses at Cleo and then at Will. “I don’t think we’ve met,” he said politely and extended his hand for Cleo to shake. She stood and shook it, introducing herself. Doctor Phillips looked again at Will for explanation.
“It was Cleo’s dog,” he said.
“Ah. I see. And how are we doing?” he said, beginning to unwrap the bandages on Will’s hand, to which Will winced more than once.
“To be honest, it hurts more often than not,” Will admitted. His hand was swollen and the skin around the punctures was red-rimmed. The oozing pus made Cleo avert her gaze.
“Yes, it looks infected. Have you been taking the antibiotics I prescribed?”
“Yes, sir,” Will said.
“All right, I’m going to prescribe you a second one and take a culture to make sure we’ve got you on the right ones. You’ve been using the triple antibiotic ointment I gave you, as well?”
“Yes, although I probably don’t change the dressing often enough. You know how busy this week is.”
“I do, but we need to get this infection under control, Will. I suppose you are driving and attempting to write with it, too, aren’t you?”
“He even climbed a tree last night,” Cleo chimed in.
Will gave her a look while Dr. Phillips considered what she said. He pursed his lips and said, “You’re not going to like this Will, but I need you out from behind the wheel and no use of your right hand for a week.”
“What?” Will looked from Cleo to the doctor and back. “I can’t! Not this week. They’ll put me on leave, and I can’t. We’re short-handed as it is.”
Doctor Phillips shook his head. Cleo allowed herself a very small smile and then spoke. “I may have a solution.”
Both men turned to look at her.
“Since it was my fault that Will was incapacitated in the first place, and he is also correct that the force cannot afford to lose him this week, would it be all right if I did his writing and driving this week?”
The men looked at each other and back at her.
“I can’t work until I get a new camera, and the type I use will take a few days to find and ship. I might as well be put to good use and make it up to you.” She gestured to Will. Neither man said anything and she took the opportunity a bit further. “Doctor, can you tell me if anyone has come in since last night with any kind of hand or forearm injury? Requiring stitches maybe?”
Will’s eyes widened. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Following up on the evidence at the scene, of course.”
“We don’t even know if that blood is human yet.”
“Does it hurt to ask?” Cleo shrugged.
Will had no answer.
Dr. Phillips looked from Cleo to Will, then said, “No one has come in with any kind of injury like that. Only my scheduled appointments. Typically, cases like that go to Arbordale for care.”
“That’s helpful, thank you, Dr. Phillips,” Cleo said.
Will closed his eyes for a moment, then said. “A new prescription, no driving, no writing for a week. Anything else?”
“Ibuprofen for pain. Avoid alcohol,” Dr. Phillips said, handing Will the prescription.
Will nodded and stood, and Cleo followed his lead. He did not speak to her until they were back in the cruiser.
“You insinuate yourself into this investigation, have questioned two different people about ‘the case,’ as you call it, and now you want me to let you do all my driving and transcribing for the next week? Is that how you think this works?”
Cleo shrugged. “Looks like it’s working to me.”
“It’s working if your goal is to piss me off,” he said, the veins in his neck getting dangerously close to popping.
“I don’t see a line of people volunteering to help you out here,” she pointed out.
Will said nothing as he threw the cruiser into gear and drove dangerously close to the speed limit back to the police station.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Will remained mute when he parked in front of the police station. Cleo tried to match his long stride as he walked up the steps and into the station. When he waved at the duty officer and passed through, she stopped.
“Will? Are you done throwing your tantrum?”
He turned and marched back to her, and leaned down. “It’s not a tantrum. I’m pissed and trying to control myself so I don’t go off on you. Follow me, please.”
Cleo followed him through the swinging half door into the office area and back toward Chapman’s office. Will stopped to let her enter first, then closed the door behind them.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Chief Chapman asked. “Is this the same woman who was at the scene last night?”
“Yes, this is the same woman.” Cleo pointed to herself, getting rather annoyed by the testosterone-fueled jockeying.
Will glared at her. Chapman cleared his throat and asked her to have a seat. When she did, he asked Will to have a seat, as well.
“Is there some pressing issue? Some reason why you came marching into my office unannounced, Truman?”
Will took a deep breath. “Sir, I know it’s too early to say definitively, but I have a hunch that Nicholas Stubbs’s death was a homicide, and would like the opportunity to pursue an investigation in that vein.”
Chapman stood and began pacing behind his desk. “I don’t have a problem with asking a few questions,” he said finally. “But I hesitate to let you have free rein until we get word back from the ME. Even that won’t be conclusive, and I’m just not sure how actively we want to use manpower to pursue this. As you know,” he said pointedly, “we have a few other ongoing investigations at the moment.”
Cleo raised her eyebrows and looked at Will.
“Here’s the thing, Chief. Dr. Phillips has asked me not to drive or write with my right hand for a week.”
“A week, huh? Well, crap.”
“But Cleo here has offered t
o help me out.”
“Again? Isn’t she the upstanding citizen,” he said, eyeing her. “Why?” he asked her.
She looked at Will. “First, I’m new to this town and only finding out about this ‘curse.’ But I gotta tell you it scares the shit out of me. And when things scare me, I don’t quiver in the corner. Second, Nicholas was a good person, even though most of this town didn’t seem to think so. I think he deserves just as much justice as the next guy, and if I can help see that happen, I’m in. Third, I think the asshole who shot my friend also robbed my house and took my livelihood from me. I’d like to see him pay. And finally, it really was my dog that did this to Will, and he was trying to do me a favor. I kinda owe him. No, I do. I do owe him.”
Chapman raised his eyebrows and then spun his chair and sat in his seat.
“All right. Go for it. But if I need you on something else, I’m gonna put this all on the backburner, got it?” he said, pointing a finger at each of them in turn.
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.
“All right. Now get out. I have work to do.”
Will nodded and opened the door. Cleo stood, then bent and whispered a thank you to Chapman who smiled at her before she turned to lead Will out.
“I win,” she said as she passed him.
As soon as they had cleared the doors to the station, Will veered to the right and Cleo followed. He ducked into the alley next to the station and turned on Cleo.
“You won what?” he asked.
“Apparently, I convinced you that there’s more to this than you thought.”
“I’m not convinced of anything yet. But even if he was accidentally shot, we still need to know who did it and why they left the scene.”
“Fair point. And you need my help.”
“It looks like I do, yes.”
“All right then. Where do we start?”
“We start with some ground rules. I am leading this investigation. I ask the questions. You take notes and transcribe anything I might need you to. You do not question anyone on your own. And you do not share any information with anyone. Understood?”
Cleo saluted.
“Please take this seriously. If it does turn out to be a murder and we attempt to prosecute him or her, we need our evidentiary procedures to be airtight. I wouldn’t want a case thrown out because you had gone off half-cocked.”
“That sounds like it would hurt,” Cleo murmured. Will gave her a look. “No, I get it. I’m not stupid.”
“Sometimes I wonder.”
“Like when?” she asked.
“Let’s start with the ditch I fished you out of a few nights ago.”
“Let’s not and say we did,” she said, cheeks flushing. “Point taken. Where next?”
“General store and see if Berta’s preaching to her disciples.”
They exited the alley and walked past the antique store to the general store. Will pulled open the door for Cleo and she entered. Will handed her a notepad and pencil from his utility belt, and she opened to a fresh page, following Will toward the coffee maker.
“Berta! How have you been, young lady?” Will said, turning the charm on high.
“Will Truman! How are you, young man?” Berta tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear.
“Oh, Berta, I’m not as young as all that,” he said, waving away her compliment.
“You sure look it,” Berta said, her eyes traversing his body from head to toe. Cleo cleared her throat, and Berta raised her eyebrows at Cleo.
“Who’s this?” Berta asked, gesturing to Cleo.
“She’s helping me out on account of my bum hand.” Will waved his hand in the air. “Doc’s orders: can’t write, can’t drive.”
“Oh, you poor thing.”
“I’ll be fine. Listen, word is Nicholas Stubbs was using your blind without your permission. What can you tell me about that?”
Berta grimaced. “Yeah, he used it from time to time. It was annoying, but what was I gonna do about it?” She paused and stared at Will. “You don’t think I had anything to do with his death, do you?”
“No, Berta. I’m just following up. Someone shot him with a crossbow, maybe by accident. I’ve gotta ask a few questions. You understand,” he said.
“Of course.” The flirty smile returned. “No, I don’t know anything about it. I was at home all night.”
“Anyone vouch for that?”
“Well, I was on the phone with my mom for a bit, watched some TV. Oh, and my neighbor Frank Ford saw me taking my garbage out about eleven. I know that because he waved at me.”
“Would you mind if I took a look at your bow and quiver?”
“Sure thing, hon. It’s out in my truck. Follow me.”
Will and Cleo followed Berta out to a late-model white Ford F-250. She stepped up onto the back bumper and reached into the bed to get her things. Will inspected the bow and then the quiver. “There’s an arrow missing, Berta.”
“Oh, that? I lost that in the brush over a week ago,” she said. You can ask any of the guys because I’ve been complaining about it ever since.”
“Will do.” Will handed back her gear, and she secured it then jumped down to face him. “Thanks, Berta. For your cooperation. It makes my job so much easier.”
“Anything for you, sweetie,” Berta said, blowing an air kiss to Will.
“Gag me,” Cleo murmured from behind him. He smirked.
“It gets the job done, doesn’t it?” he said as they watched Berta return to the store.
“Think she’s lying about the arrow?” Cleo asked.
“She blinked her eyes a few times, and I could have sworn I saw her flush. She’s hiding something, but I’m not sure it has anything to do with Nicholas Stubbs.”
“We’ll see,” Cleo said, folding the notebook cover over. “Where to next?”
“You’ll see,” he mimicked.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Do I get to drive the cruiser?” Cleo asked.
“Uh, no. That’s city property. We’ll have to take your car.”
“My car?”
“You’ll get reimbursed for gas, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Will offered.
“No, I was just kinda looking forward to driving a police cruiser.”
Will rolled his eyes. “I guess we can walk to your place from here.”
“Sure thing.”
Once they had gotten to the Mini, they climbed inside. “Now you really have to tell me where we’re going,” Cleo insisted.
“To the library,” Will said, removing his hat due to the low clearance in the Mini.
“Shelley Mills, then.”
“She seemed to know the most about our victim, and it’s a logical place to start,” Will reasoned.
“Good idea.” She pulled out of her driveway and headed toward Old School Road.
When Will held the library door open for her, Cleo spied Shelley at the desk. Her eyes were red-rimmed but drier today.
“Hello, Shelley,” Will said. “I’m so sorry about Nicholas.”
She nodded. “He was a good friend. Thank you.”
“I have a few questions if you’re up for it.”
“Whatever I can do to help.” She nodded.
“Nicholas spent some time here with you in the evenings.”
“He did. We were trying to find his family. He was starting to feel like he was missing out, having never had parents to raise him or any siblings. He was lonely. And he had difficulty reading.”
“He did?” Cleo asked. Will glared at her.
“Yes, I think it may have been undiagnosed dyslexia. He needed help navigating the research sites.”
“Do you have any idea why he might have been in the woods that night?”
Shelley looked at her lap. “He said he saw a lot of the dark side of the people in this town. He liked to get a high vantage in the woods and watch because so many people came to the woods to do whatever it was they kept secret from others.” She met Will’s gaze
again and shrugged. “Or so he said.”
“He was spying on people?”
“No, not really. I think he saw himself as a protector.” She sniffed. “He had a soft spot for underdogs—women being taken advantage of, that sort of thing. And he cared deeply for the animals.”
“Like forest animals?”
“Yeah. He hated hunters. Said he’d never shoot another gun again in his life.”
“Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt him?” Will asked, leaning against the desk.
“Was he murdered? Or was it just an accident?” Shelley asked, looking from Will to Cleo.
“We don’t know, but we’re asking all the same,” Will said.
“He was my friend. I know people looked down on him, and some were annoyed by his behavior, but I can’t think of anyone who would have been so angry with him as to want him dead.”
“And Travis?” Cleo asked. Will clenched his jaw.
“My Travis? No. He had no reason to be upset with Nicholas.”
“Sometimes boyfriends get upset even when there isn’t a reason,” Will said.
A flutter of her eyelashes. “No, he wasn’t upset. Besides, he was home with me.”
“Okay, I guess that’s all we need right now. If you think of anything else, you know where to find me. Thank you again, Shelley.” Will tipped his hat.
“Please find who did this, Will.”
“We will,” he promised and led Cleo out the door.
“I told you that I was going to ask the questions.”
“They just slip out sometimes.”
“You show your hand too often. Sometimes we need to hold things back to be used later. It’s strategy.”
“I was always terrible at checkers.”
“I rest my case. I ask the questions. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” She smirked and climbed into the Mini Cooper.
“Listen, I think we need to speak to Maeve Witten,” Cleo said, turning in her seat.
“Why?” Will cocked his head.
“Because I saw Maeve and Nicholas arguing the day he was killed.”
