Rory rolled out of bed, scratched his head, stood up and slowly walked to the bathroom. Once in the shower he began to wake up. Her voice still rang in his head. She got to him, big time. He hurt every time he thought or when he saw her. Lord, he had it bad. The worst part is he couldn't tell anyone. The last girlfriend he had run back to Salem to her old boyfriend leaving him totally embarrassed. It was no good to have relationships with co-workers; he understood that, but it was so hard working together not to cross the invisible line of desire.
He shaved and sprinkled on some Old Spice; his dad's favorite. He liked to be reminded of his father who was a dedicated fireman. He dressed in blue jeans, polo shirt and a pull over sweater. However, he kept his penny loafers always shined up ready to go. He loved his shoes. He hated the thought that maybe someday the government might stop making pennies. Secretly, to be on the safe side, he went to the bank and bought ten rolls of new pennies. He smiled at that thought, as he walked out the door.
It was slow going in the thick fog. By the time he arrived in Bandon, Stacy was beginning to fume. She settled down when he said he would buy breakfast. She realized that she hadn't thought to eat and felt her stomach growling. She ordered a crab omelet. He told the waitress to make it two.
"Okay, what is with the needing a chauffeur all about. I've a day off and you come up with needing me to drive you around?"
Stacy sipped her tea. "I think, or my chief thinks, the perp threw out the clothes so as to keep us from identifying him and maybe the super glue containers. He said to look to the south on 101. I'll look in the ditch while you slowly drive down the road. Good idea, huh?"
"I'll not tell anyone if you won't. Let's not let this get around we're driving down the road looking in the ditch for evidence. But, beats sitting around watching a boring baseball game on the tube," he said while taking his first bite of omelet.
Ditch Diving
Just for curiosity sake, they decided to stop in at the murder site to see what was happening in the store. Stacy went in for some soft drinks. She found Dee on her cell phone chatting away with a friend. Stacy paid and left thinking so much for that idea.
It was about 20 miles to Langlois on 101 south. With the heavy fog, Rory had both his flashers and police lights on. His fear was some crazy driver slamming into the rear of him. A half mile down the road, Stacy ran the window down. Rory turned on the heater as the fog was a bit chilly. He did his best to hug the side of the road while she peered out the window.
After a few miles, she said, "You know, it's surprising that there's not so much trash thrown out these days."
"Have you seen anything yet," asked Rory.
"Nothing to stop and look at," she said. Her nose was getting frozen. By now she looked like Rudolph, Santa's famous Reindeer. About three miles down the highway, a gravel pull off area appeared. It was big enough for cars with travel trailers to pull off and let the traffic go by. Rory pulled off and slowly went to the west side while Stacy looked. She said, "Wait a minute Rory. There's a pile of trash next to the states garbage receptacle."
She jumped out and put on some latex gloves. She dug through the sacks. Not so deep she saw some clothes. Her heart began to race a bit. Sure enough, it was a tied up roll of clothes that someone had stuck under the garbage. She hollered at Rory who came with his usual long strides. Both stood there looking down at the dirty clothes. "Could we be so lucky Rory," she said.
"Well, let's place it in the back of the SUV in a garbage sack. Then I guess we'll both paw through the rest of this stuff seeing if we can find the super glue containers. I'd guess it took at least two small containers to seal the deal," he said laughing.
"That's sick Rory," said Stacy as they carefully tucked the clothes into a plastic garbage sack. "Let's see if our luck holds coming across the glue containers."
Piece by piece of trash was methodically gone through. Rory's back was hurting so he walked the side of the pull out just in case he saw something in the brush. As he was about to turn around, he saw a plastic sack with an Ace Hardware written on it. With a pair of needle nose pliers, he picked the sack up. He took a pen out of his pocket and spread the sack open. In the sack were three super glue containers. He let out a big belly laugh saying, "Stacy, I found the containers. Stop looking if you want to."
Stacy kept digging and low and behold, a worn black wallet lay there open showing a driver's license with a picture of the dead man looking up at her. She too, had a pair of needle nose pliers. She fished out a baggie and dropped the wallet inside. She took a permanent marker and place date, time and location on the Ziploc. Rory walked up grinning from ear to ear showing his find to Stacy. Stacy smiled back and showed him her discovery. Both cracked up laughing. He offered a high five and she accepted.
On the way back to the police station, they talked about their luck finding the clothes and the victim's wallet. "It's clear that the perp drove south after killing the John Doe. Would that be in his plan to lead us to think he left the county and the state," said Rory.
"No way of knowing but the license I saw was issued from Oregon. I find it difficult to believe the perp fled south to California. In my opinion, he is from this area or at least familiar with the location of the store. Two things, one did he stop to relieve himself or did he stop to meet someone," asked Stacy.
"The Perkins dwellings are quite some distance back of the store. If the perp stopped to relieve himself, he'd know nobody would or could view him from the back property or from the highway. Let's keep an open mind," said Rory.
Stacy was quiet the rest of the way to town thinking hard. She was reviewing the murder scene and the subsequent interview with the Perkins tribe. Never one to discount that the Perkins family weren't still suspects, but it seemed at this point, doubtful. Be that as it may, a motive was yet to be discovered. On the plus side was the fact they'd DNA from the perp. Or it was possible that there were two perps?
It was not yet noon. On the way back the fog began to lift. When they hit Bandon the sun was out in all its glory basking the southern coast with late summer colors. Stacy saw it first; and said, "Its Sheriff Yeast's car. What is he doing here? I know for a fact he and the chief don't see eye to eye on anything. Hey Rory, let's keep the evidence inside your car for the time being. Our story is we've been out searching for evidence but came up empty handed."
"Sounds good to me. What we could do is this -- I'll drop you off --you drive up to my office where we can sift through the evidence," said Rory.
"Great idea. I'll leave a note for the chief," said Stacy as she got out and waved to him as he motored north.
Inside the station, the chief's door was closed. She wrote a quick note, left it with Flo, the dispatcher and girl Friday. She didn't want to miss anything so she tried not to break the speed limit.
She breathlessly strode into the state police office in North Bend. Ben and Rory, along with the captain were eating pizza. Rory said, "You didn't think we'd wait for you, did you?"
"Speaking truthfully, no I didn't. And if you were all thinking of me, then you must have saved a couple pieces of pizza for me," she said smiling showing off her perfect white teeth. Rory was watching her and almost bit his thumb watching her approach the table. He knew he had it bad.
After lunch they moved to another room where tables and various other things were available for evidence examination. All were gloved. Rory picked up the trash bag with the clothes in it. Slowly they used long tongs to lay out the clothes. When it all lay before their eyes, Stacy tried to place the body inside the clothes. A fairly nice long sleeve button up shirt, a not so new or clean blue jeans, socks that were at one time white, but now more grey than white. The shoes were the best part as they appeared fairly new. They were dirty yes, but the soles were not so worn. A dark blue hoodie protected him from the elements.
Rory said, "We'll let the technicians check for any foreign material. Let's see what the wallet has to offer. At a smaller stainless steel table, the wallet was th
e point of interest. The license was housed in the place where a clear plastic pouch was specifically designed for ID purposes. Without removing it, Rory handed a magnifying glass to Stacy.
She saw the face of an adult male. His name was Glen Wilson, age 26 from Portland. He was 5' 6" tall and weighed 145 lbs. In another pouch were a SS card and a few business cards. They'd examine those later. They were all shocked when she opened up the pouch that held paper money. There were four new one hundred dollar bills and three used one dollar bills. "Now this is certainly something I never would have thought would be inside this beat up old wallet," said Stacy.
"Okay guys, this changes our perception of the motive or maybe it's our clue to follow. Banks usually keep serial numbers of new hundred dollar bills, so let's go in that direction first off. I'll get some folks on the serial numbers pronto. As for the clothes, maybe we can find some foreign material to do a match with. I'll send this stuff to Portland. Okay, now having said that, what else do we need to do," asked Rory.
"Okay, why would this transient appearing person have four hundred dollars bills in his wallet? But first we must check his SS records for employment and of course the address on the license, hopefully, it's his current address. Also, if he had a car, where's the car? Ben found the key chain next to the trash can, but sometimes guys will have a key in the ignition and another key to open the door with. Maybe someone drove his car off. And if he had a car, he'd be sleeping in it and not behind the store. Anyone have anything to add to this," asked Stacy.
Ben said, "I think he had a car. I also think he met someone there or was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe he interrupted a drug deal. There're lots of speculation and few facts here. First we check his home address; then his last work place or places; and lastly, see if he has any family or friends. Oh, forgot one, someone must know if he had a car."
Jack of all Trades, Master of Two or Three
Sunday wasn't a day of rest for the Stacy and the two detectives. The key on the chain told them Glen Wilson, presumably, drove an older Chevrolet. The vintage ranged from the 70s through the mid 80s. It wasn't until Monday that they could run Glen through DMV. The team broke up in three directions: Ben would take the Coos Bay area to see if anyone had recently acquired an old car at the local junk yards and at the lower cost car lots. Rory took Coquille and then on down to Bandon where he and Stacy would go south to look for an old car sitting around somewhere.
Ben knew it was just an excuse for Rory to drive around on Sunday with his heart on his sleeve. He'd make a quick tour of the junk yards and go home to the wife and kids.
While waiting for Rory, Stacy sat at home with her father discussing the case. He asked, "Start at the beginning and run it through up until today."
Stacy took a deep and gave off a small sigh, "A 911 call came in from Dee Perkins at the small store where the Beach Loop Road meets 101. The store has been in the family for more than one generation. The caller was taking some trash out back to the cans around 8 am or a little after. She saw a pair of hairy legs sticking out of trash can with the feet somehow attached to the wooden siding. When we arrived we saw a dead man head down in a plastic trash can with his feet stuck to the wall. It was later established it was super glue. As a matter of fact, the autopsy revealed super glue in all orifices except the anus; including the eyes. He died of suffocation.
At first he appeared a homeless vagrant, but later we discovered his ID with his home address. We also think he has a vehicle. A key chain was found very close to the body. We're looking into his SS number, home address and any family or friends. In his wallet were four hundred dollar bills in successive serial number. Additionally there were a few worn dollar bills.
One more thing, he was sodomized. I'm not sure if that is relevant or not. It's my belief he was meeting someone there. Obviously if he did meet someone there, they weren't his friend or friends. Was it a drug buy? Was it a shake down? Or was it just a spur of the moment fun and games? What do you think dad?"
"You didn't mention both Amos and Stan's kids. I'm not sure their ages, but have you interviewed them yet?"
"No, not yet. It's part of our plan today to see the Perkins clan. We know both sons of Amos and Stan work the swing shift at the cranberry factory. We did run them through the system and nothing came up but some petty shoplifting many years ago."
"Regardless, I think, for the most part, this homicide and sexual assault is most complex. I see many threads and few leads coming from the investigation so far. You need a tie in to have something to sink your teeth into. You've got some solid things to investigate with the ID of the victim. Dig deep, my daughter. If I'm not mistaken, your ride is here," said Ray Foreham.
Down south in Langlois, population less than 200, a small bit of information came to Stacy and Rory's way. A guy pumping gas saw a strange van go by and then turn up the hill. It never came back while he was on shift. He added, "I'd guess it was around 3 am. I was a little sleepy, but did see a vehicle pass by."
They went on down to Port Orford, had lunch and came back to Bandon with the idea of interviewing the two Perkins guys Junior and Eddie.
They turned right just past the store and followed a gravel road to the first house where Stan Perkins lived with his wife, Francis, son Junior and daughter Bessie. Dee, also a daughter didn't get along with her mother so she stayed with Jewel Noches.
When they pulled up the dogs starting barking alerting all in the house they had visitors. The dogs were chained up, but to Stacy, they looked like they could break any chain if they really wanted to. She didn't recognize the breed but they certainly looked big and nasty. Rory knocked on the screen door.
Francis answered the door without smiling. Rory asked if they might come in and talk to her son Junior. She opened the door wide and let them pass by without a word.
Junior was lying on the couch watching a baseball game. His mother said, "Junior someone to see you. Get up and act like a human for a change." She turned her head and screamed, "Bessie, you're wanted in the living room."
Junior looked with defiance written all over his face, Rory said, "Junior we can do this the easy way or the hard way. We can interview here or up in North Bend in an interrogation room. You can also have your lawyer meet us there if you like!
Junior came up as if he was poked with a electrical cattle prod. His mother switched off the TV. Bessie came in rubbing her sixteen year old blue eyes. Stacy was still trying to understand why her mother called her to witness the interview, but maybe to learn something?
Stacy had her notebook out as Rory asked, "Junior we know you worked the swing shift until 11 pm. What we don't know is what you did afterwards and what time you can home. We need names to verify your story.
"Am I a suspect," he cried out. "I never did nothing. Me and Eddie went to a party at Greg's house until around 3 am. Then we came home. There were probably 20 people there. I can give you name and phone numbers."
"Who can verify the time you and your cousin came home," asked Rory.
"I can," said Bessie. Even though I'd like to see him squirm, it's true he came home just before 3 am. I was up watching TV and the movie was just over. I looked at the clock to see what time it was. I decided to go to bed. Me and my cousin Ellen were going shopping in Coos Bay on Saturday."
"Junior, did you see anything unusual at the store when you came home Friday night," asked Rory.
"To tell you the truth, I was kind of wasted. Eddie was driving, but he didn't say anything that I remember.
"How about you Bessie, did you see or hear anything late Friday night," asked Stacy.
''Nothing out of the ordinary, but wait, the dogs made a hell of a racket around 1:30 am. Dad went out and yelled at them. I went back watching a stupid movie," said Bessie.
"Okay, thanks for now. Don't leave town. I'm sure we have more questions later on. Now Junior give my partner here the names and phone numbers of people who can swear they say you up until about 2:30 am or later," said Rory
.
Next stop was at Amos Perkins to see Eddie Perkins; who by now knew they were coming. Indeed yes he did because he was waiting at the door of an old 12' wide mobile home. When asked about what the place looked like, Stacy only said it was the worst place she'd ever been in. It was so bad, they did the interview outside. Eddie's story was the same as Junior's yarn. There was no help or leads there, except the dogs barking at 1:30 am could indicate the time of murder.
On the way back to her house, Rory said, "We need the DMV on our victim's vehicle. I'll get the ball rolling when we stop."
"I'm hungry, let's go out on the Beach Loop road and have something nice to eat. I'll even let you buy," she said laughing.
If she only knew how much he'd enjoying paying…….. well … never mind. He knew he was lost in a fog of either love or lust; he couldn't distinguish one from the other at this point in time. One thing he did know and that something had to happen sooner or later or he would slip off the deep end.
Dinner was nice with good conversation. Rory was every bit the gentlemen. Stacy found out he was a local Oregonian from the Portland area. His parents lived in Beaverton. Father was a retired fireman and mother sold real estate. Nowadays father played golf and mother worked the office. He had one sister, older, and lived back east. They were never close, but stayed friendly.
Stacy thought he'd come from a nice family; much like her own. Her family was small, mostly because her mother passed on early, however, her father like it when she was home with him; especially when he had someone to cook for.
Murder Mysteries Page 8
