Secrets On Alderberry Road: Shattered hearts and broken dreams

by Debra Smith

  CHAPTER II

  A white church was across the road from the mansion. When I looked at it, a strange feeling came over me. I gave Matti a pat on the head. Without saying a word we walked to the church. The grass was waist high. The years had taken its toll on the church. Peeling white paint and stained glass windows were broken. The steps were rotten. The double doors were off the hinges. Chase and I carefully opened the one door by putting it to the side. The floor boards were warped. Dust and cobwebs covered everything. I said,” It’s up to you and I to find fifty year old clues.” Looking around, she said,’ I wondered what happen that caused everything to be closed up until now.” Walking up to the upright piano, I replied,” To solve it I am going to need help and lots of it and perhaps a little luck.” I pulled the bench out from underneath it. Pews were turned over. The only thing standing was the altar. I saw song sheets, crisp and yellow scattered about the floor. Suddenly, I noticed a card among the papers. I picked it up off the floor. It was a wedding invitation. The names were too faded to know who was going to be wed on June 04, 1950 at five pm following a reception in the basement. Upon seeing the door next to the piano, Chase and I gave it a hard pull to open it. Being the steps were in bad repair, we carefully walked down the stairs. Matti followed behind us.

  We felt like we stepped back in time. The tables and chairs were still waiting for guests. Decorations were sagging from the ceiling. Instruments were waiting in the corner covered in dust and cobwebs. Flowers were dried up and brown. They laid shattered on the table. On the far side of the basement, I noticed two doors with hanging faded bells. I opened one door to find a room. A couch, chair, and table. I saw something hanging from the closet that made my hair stood up. A white wedding dress with a long veil was still in its clear plastic cover although time had aged it. Chase entered the other room. I heard her say,” Robbi, there’s a white tuxedo still in its plastic cover hanging from the coat rack.” I softly replied, “They didn’t get married. Something or someone prevented it.” We shut the door. When we walked out the basement door, it led us to a small graveyard.

  Tombstones were covered with grass. Sitting on a rotten wooden bench was a young woman with long straight black hair wearing a light blue sun dress and sandals on her feet. She had a sad expression on her face when her dark eyes looked at me. She laid daisies on a tombstone. Matti started to bark. A cold feeling swept thorough me. Chase felt something wasn’t right.

  Not saying a word, the young woman walked down a wooded path. We quickly followed, trying to get her attention. In an instant, the young woman was gone. We returned to the graveyard walking up to the tombstone. I removed the grass. The heart shape stone had two names written on it: Sky Ryan May 1931- June 3, 1950 and Carrie Chambers March 1932 – June 3,1950, together in life and death, beloved brother, sister and friends. I looked at the invitation I still had in my hand. More questions started circling in my mind. Who were they and why was the church still decorated? What happen to them? On the radio, Dr. Bordou requested my return to the mansion.

  After a brisk walk across the road, we walked up to Dr. Bordou at the front entrance. Chase told me she’ll take the car to her garage. She’ll get the bike tomorrow. She wanted to find the answers to this mystery, too. She was filled with excitement about solving the case with her best friend. She drove her wrecker across the bridge, backing it up to the car. She gently and carefully hooked it up. The second time she ran her hand over the damaged fender she saw the dried dirt in the small dents. She shouted for Dr. Bordou and I to come.

  When we stood by her, Chase said,” This car hit a bank, because there is dirt in the small dents rain hadn’t washed away.” Looking at the dents, Dr. Bordou agreed with her. I suggested about going to the library to check the old newspapers about an accident on June 3, 1950 or the week thereof. Dr. Bordou and his team finally left to return to the lab. Chase and I agreed to meet later on this evening. I watched her carefully pull the car across the bridge.

  Shortly thereafter, Matti and arrived at the local library. They kept newspapers dating in the 1800s. I found a parking spot by the front entrance. Mrs. Staci Munci was the librarian. A sweet elderly lady. Her husband, Charles was the town dentist. Both were friendly and a pleasure to talk, too. Mrs. Munci’s assistant was Annabell Calouchi, a professor’s wife. He taught music at the university. I met him once at the library. Annabell greeted Matti and I when we walked in. Her reading glasses hanged around her neck from a pearl necklace. She happily ask,” How can I help you, Robbi?” I watched her tan skin turn pale white, when I answered,” I would like to see June 3, 1950 newspaper, especially the article about Sky Ryan and Carrie Chambers.” For a moment I thought she was going to faint. I helped her to an overstuff chair. I sat down in the chair next to her. A flood of memories came to her mind. It was the worse time the town ever faced. A tragedy that shouldn’t have happened did.

  Mrs. Munci’s average height with her white hair in a braid walked up to us. In a concern voice, she asked,” Is everything okay?” Annabell voice quivered as she answered,” Detective Colter is asking about Sky and Carrie.” I sat there speechless. I knew then I hit a nerve. I was always called Robbi, never in all my years I was called Detective Colter. In a warning tone of voice Mrs. Munci replied,” Detective Colter leave the past alone. Nothing good can come from it. To keep the peace it would be best you stay away.” Annabell ask,” Why Detective Cotler, are you interested in a time before you were born?” Cautiously, I answered,” If something went wrong, I want to try to make it right.” I could tell by their actions they would remain silent. Mattti and I walked out the door. The afternoon sun greeted us as we walked down the street.

  Victoria Tabich came outside to sweep her dinner steps. An older black woman who had a way of always making you feel welcome. When I walked up to her, she greeted me with a smile that could light up any room. In a pleasant voice, she ask,” How are you doing, Robbi? Working on anything real important?” I answered,” Victoria, how long have you lived in this town?” She sat down on the bench next to the window of her dinner. She replied,” I have been here most of my life. Why do you ask?” I ask,” Do you know about the incident on Alder Berry Road?” Upon hearing my question, tears started to fill her eyes. She placed her hand on her face. A painful memory brought back to life. I sat down beside her. I gently said,” I am sorry, Victoria. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She let out a sigh as she replied,” No one haven’t mentioned that name for fifty years. It was the worse day of my life. Come on in, we need to talk.” Matti and I followed her thorough the dinner. She led us to an apartment behind the dinner.

  As I waited in the living room, she walked into the bed room on the far side of the kitchen. I heard her moving things around. I sat down on the sofa. In a few minutes, she returned carrying photo albums. She sat down beside me. She opened a scrap book of newspaper clippings. She showed me the clippings about the shooting at the old courthouse to the accident that took the lives of Sky and Carrie. I listened to Victoria telling me about her soon to be husband at the time, Lance Tabich, Sky Ryan, Carrie Chambers, Jackie Crandle and Byron Sander were best friends. They often joked about having one wedding day for all of them. Byron’s father, Heath didn’t approve of Jackie.

  The Ryans, Tabichs, and the Panache farms were on Alder Berry Road. The Sander’s mansion was at the beginning of Alderberry. All three farms were good neighbors to each other. Their mothers, Louise, Rue and Faye made quilts, cold packed, and shop together. Their fathers, Eric, Cole, and Robert helped each other with harvest and repairs.

  After church on Sundays, the families would get together for a picnic and a game of baseball. Summer was Victoria’s favorite season. It meant waiting barefoot in the creek with Lance. Carrie, Sky’s sister Raven, Jackie, and Victoria would catch fire flies in the evening. They helped Byron and Jackie to see each other.

  She remembered the Fall day Byron and Jackie eloped in other state. Byron took her on his motorcycle. Perplexed I asked her,” Vict
oria, my grandmother is Jacklyn Crandle. Are you telling me Byron was her first husband, not my grandfather, Robert Panache whom I am named after?” She softly answered,” Robbi, you must understand something. A tragedy occurred before they had a chance to make it official in front of family and friends. No one knew about the elopement. They had to keep it a secret. Byron’s mother, Clair wanted them to get married, but she didn’t know it was already done. Byron’s father, Heath was a powerful man. At one time, he controlled this town. He could make anything and anyone disappear without a trace.” Pausing for a moment, she placed hand on a photograph of her and her husband. The look of sadness came upon her face. She said softly,” On June 3, 1950, a bad storm of heavy rain and lightning had the roads covered with water. Sky and Carrie were coming from somewhere helping Byron escape from his raging father. You see, Byron wrecked his bike that night. They found him along the river’s edge in and out of conscious. The bike was on its side. They knew he was going to Jackie. But this time they knew they had to hide him from his father for they got a warning phone call about his father being on a rampage. They would take Jackie to him later. Someone helped Sky and Carrie. Who that person was and where they took him too, is anyone’s guess. Lance and I married and had a son and daughter. Our children were in grade school when the Army told me Lance was killed in Vietnam War. Robert Panache, your grandfather, bought the Ryan and Tabich farms. Lance’s younger brother, Tyrell didn’t want it, and the Ryan’s son, Sky and daughter, Raven disappeared about the same time. I am not sure what happen to either of them except Sky and Carrie.” I gently ask,” Do you have a photograph of them I can see?” She turned the page to reveal more photographs. Suddenly, I saw a picture that made my color drain from my face. My heart went to my stomach.

  In a quivering voice I pointed to the girls sitting on a paint asking,” What are their names?” Victoria answered,” It is Sky’s sister, Raven and the one sitting behind her is Carrie Chambers. Robbi, you look like you seen a ghost. Is there something wrong?” With stillness in my voice I replied,” I saw Raven at Sky’s and Carrie’s grave today.” A stunned expression appeared on her face. Perplexed she ask,” Are you sure it was her? Raven hasn’t been seen in this town for very long time. In fact, she disappeared after the accident,” her voice trailing off. An uneasy feeling came over her. I sat there staring at the photograph. The hair, face, smile and the sandals on her feet it was definitely her. I wondered what Chase will do when I show her the photograph.

  Victoria proceed to showing me photographs of the town’s people from the various newspaper clipping articles. She showed the church pastor Scott Little was a stocky build with red hair. His wife, Denise was an average blonde, taught Sunday school. Both were smiling in the photograph as they stood in front of the church accepting the keys from Heath Sander. Next she reshowed me newspaper article about the court house. The Sheriff Randal Augustine stood by Judge Xavier Sulton an average height with thinning blonde hair, neatly trimmed mustache wore wire rim glasses.

  Next to him was Brian Dekes, district attorney tall broad shoulders, dark hair, clean shaven had puzzled expressions on their faces. The article stated the assistant district attorney Harlin, court stenographer, Melinda Morrison, two Sheriff deputies, Matlic and Bayler with the presiding Judge Blackwall, public defender Janice and the accused person on trial were shot to death during court proceedings. It was the first day to pick jurors. No witnesses saw it occurring. No one heard the gun shots. Sheriff department and local police Detective Bass were baffled. Anyone with any information call Sheriff Augustine or Detective Bass. I reread the article accused person and started to wonder why the name was left out. Victoria told me all were married and had children. I wrote down May 22, 1950 trial date. Something told me everything was connected to Sander’s first wife and son disappearance. But I wasn’t quite sure how the puzzle pieces fit yet. When my cell phone started ringing, it was Chase. She had called to ask if she could get the bike in the morning. We agreed to meet at 9am tomorrow. I hung up the telephone knowing I would have to go to see my mom. I told Victoria if I have any more questions I’ll come back. I further told her the information she gave me was appreciated for it does go with my case. I thanked her and then I left.

  Judge Alexandra Panache, small build with shoulder length blonde curly hair and blue eyes sat at her desk going over case evidence. When I walked into her office, the secretary Linda Barlet an older lady wearing her brown hair in a bun greeted me by saying,” Good afternoon, Robbi. Your mom is in her office and you can go in.” My mom took her reading glasses off upon seeing me walking in. Smiling she ask,” To what do I owe this pleasure of the visit?” I informed her about the case I was on. Even though I had permission from the family to search the mansion, I felt better with a search warrant. I requested a search warrant for the old courthouse, too. I told her somehow everything was connected, but uncertain how it all fit. She wrote down the dates. She told me she’ll check on the court date.

  My dad, U.S. Marshal Waylon Colter, average height, black hair, brown eyes, walked into the office. After we exchanged hellos, mom and I informed him about the case I was on. Waylon said,” I’ll do some digging to see what I can come up with, too.” Being it was supper time; we agreed to go to Red’s dinner. A family owned dinner that would make everything from scratch. It was for this reason Red’s was always busy.

  We walked a block down from the court house to Red’s. When we walked in, the vast dinner was busy with customers. Red greeted us with a smile. We followed his lanky built to a booth. His wife, Nora worked the grill with two other cooks. The three waitresses were doing their best to keep up. We ordered deluxe cheeseburgers, fries and apple pie for desert with sodas to drink. My Uncle Gerald, district attorney, mom’s twin brother joined us for dinner. Gerald spoke in a soft southern accent. We exchanged hellos. He ordered a deluxe hamburger and fries with a soda. The conversation we had was various topics. My brother Sheriff Blu Colter, average height, blonde hair and blue eyes walked in to get coffee when he saw us at the booth. He decided to join us, too. Red jokingly said,” It looks like the Colters are having a family reunion.” I only half listen as my case circled in my mind. Too many questions and not enough answers. Uncle Gerald interrupted my thoughts by saying,” I heard from your Aunt Erica that you’re working on Sander’s disappearance. She is the recent family lawyer; Chad and Britney Sander were impressed by you. They informed your Aunt Erica to give you all the information they have on their father.” My Aunt Erica was my Uncle Gerald’s wife of thirty years; auburn hair, average height with hazel eyes. They had two boys and two girls.

  One son, Gerald Jr. became a doctor, the other son, Jessie a state trooper, one daughter, Natalie lawyer and the other daughter Evelyn, investment banker. All were married and had children. I replied," Good, I need all the info I can get.” Agreeing with me, we finished our meal.

  CHAPTER III

  Sheriff Randal Augustine was sitting on his front porch sipping ice tea when his son who was the Silver Springs patrolman walked up to his dad. His son Randal Jr. nicknamed RJ for short sat down in the chair next to his dad. Both men were tall with a rugged hard look that made you think twice before crossing them. Randal Sr. retired from the law after 32 years of service. His wife, Emma of fifty years passed away five years ago and still misses her. His blue eyes looked at his young son. He saw a concern expression on RJ’s tan face. Brown hair and eyes like his mother, he softly ask,” RJ, what’s wrong?” RJ replied,” Detective Colter is investigating the disappearance of Sander’s first wife and son. I remember it being the case unsolved by you. She might come to you for you were the Sheriff at the time.” Randal remained silent for a few minutes. He remembered the day Sander’s wife disappeared from the hospital and never found. The son vanished under strange circumstances. The body never found, either. After he took a sip of ice tea, he said,” I look forward to seeing Detective Colter. Perhaps she’ll be able to unravel the mysterious disappearance of the wife and son. It�
�ll make me happy to find out what happen.” RJ silently agreed with his dad. There were secrets surrounding Sander. As RJ stood up he said,” I’ll have Detective Colter to come to see you.” Randal let out a sigh of relief as he watched his son get into his patrol car.

  Randal walked into his house, going to the attic. No one knew he kept everything about Heath Sander. Somehow he knew the day would come for the file to be open. Perhaps this time the truth will come out. The boxes covered up with blankets in an old trunk. He pulled the trunk from underneath an old table he was going to refinish, but lost interest in it when Emma passed away. The trunk creaked as he open the lid.

  After removing several blankets, he removed two boxes. The boxes were filled with photos and papers pertaining to the case that went unsolved. Disappearing witnesses that seemed to vanish without a trace, no leads to their where abouts, just gone. Those who did talk suddenly died under strange circumstances. Nothing led to Sander who always appeared innocent to any involvement. He carried the boxes to the dining room table. Next he opens the boxes, lying the photos and papers on the tables in preparation of my visit.

  In the morning, I walked into the station with a cup of coffee in my hand. I sat down at my desk. I reviewed my notes before meeting Chase at the mansion.

  Patrol Officer Randal Augustine Jr. walked up to my desk. He quietly ask,” May I speak to you?” I motioned for us to go to the conference room. After I closed the door, he said,” My father is retired Sheriff Randal Augustine Sr. and he has information that may help you with your case. Perhaps the two of you can solve the case. I know it has been bothering him about the two disappearances. This is his address,” handing me a piece of paper with the address 109 Pine Street, he finished speaking,” Good luck.” Upon opening the door, I said,” Tell your dad I’ll be there at noon and thank you both for your help.” Walking out the door, he replied,” I’ll call my dad to expect you at noon. By the way you’re welcome.” I gathered my notebook. The search warrant arrived, I informed my Captain about the case and the leads I was following. She told me to do my best to solve it.