“A suicide note. Kind of a farewell note.”
“Was it to me?” she asked.
“No. Sorry. It really wasn’t meant for you,” Logan said.
“Can I see it?”
“Honestly, I don’t think it would help you. In fact, I think it would do more harm than good. You don’t really want to see it.”
“Please. I have to see it. It was the last thing she did. I must. I don’t care what she said as long as I can see her final words,” she insisted.
“It’s not a good idea,” Randy said.
“Damn it,” she screamed, “I want to see that note. Can’t you be human beings for just one minute?”
“Marcia, we are doing this for you. Can’t you just take our word for it? It will do nothing to make you feel better,” Logan insisted.
“Please,” she said, tears streaming down her face.
Logan and Randy looked at each other. They were both thinking the same thing. The note was all about Sharon Lewis and her love for her. It would only make things worse for Marcia. Nevertheless, he slid the note over to her. She read it with tears rolling down her cheeks.
“It was always going to be Sharon. I guess I have always known. I thought in time...” she let the sentence trail off.
“We’re sorry for your loss Marcia. Do you think she could have really done this?” Randy asked.
“What? What do you mean? It’s a suicide isn’t it? You said that.”
“Yes. It does point to that but we never rule out any possibilities and her suicide had some inconsistencies to it. Has she been depressed? Has she ever mentioned suicide?”
“Depressed? Sure, from time to time. Isn’t everyone? But suicide? Sure she joked about it once but it wasn’t serious. Just making a joke,” Marcia said.
“What kind of joke?” Logan asked.
“You know. Something like, everyone would be better off with one less lesbian in this world. It would probably make her parents happy.”
“That’s not much of a joke,” Randy added.
“She was just blowing off steam. She didn’t mean it,” Marcia said.
“When was this?”
“A long time ago. Right after her breakup with Sharon. She was just down at the time.”
“Alright Marcia. We may have some more questions for you. We are going to give you a voucher for a hotel room for the next few days. The apartment is closed off while we continue the investigation,” Randy said.
“Oh God. I have no clean clothes left. Everything in my luggage is dirty. Can’t I go in and get some clean stuff?”
“Sorry. I wish I could let you but the crime lab hasn’t released it yet. I’ll get on them and see if we can move it along, but for now, you’ll have to make do with what you have.”
“Great. Can this day get any worse?”
They had no answer for her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Logan sat at his desk with Randy across from him. He was tapping a pad of paper with a pencil and Randy just sat watching. After a few minutes Randy said, “In a Godda DeVida?”
“What?”
“What you’re tapping out. In a Godda DeVida by Ironbutterfly.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, it’s been going on for about eleven minutes. That is the only song I can think of that last that long,” Randy said smiling.
“Cute. You’re going to be a Missing Person if you keep that up.”
“So, what are you thinking? Were you happy with the interview?”
“Something about it bothers me. I can’t lay my finger on it. She cried at all the right places and sobbed when appropriate...”
“But, something still bothers you.”
“Not really bothers me so much as it seemed like a Smith,” he said, referring to the Susan Smith’s television video that anyone with a third grade education could have seen was fake.
“What do you want to do next?”
“We will give her some slack and see what happens. I want a lose tail put on her and no one needs to freak out if they lose her. She will turn up again.”
“I should have shown her picture to Harvey Landgraves. I think we should do that just in case she is the one that bought the gun. She could have been in the bar just as well as Thompson.”
“Yes, but she isn’t very tall and her hair isn’t exactly blonde,” Randy pointed out.
“We have a picture of Marcia Burton in our files, let’s give that a shot,” Logan said and added “You know the song, high heel sneakers and a wig hat on her head,” he said singing the tune.
“That’s not the way the song goes,” Randy pointed out.
“Close enough. Let’s go see our boy, Harvey,” he said taking Marcia’s picture from the file.
They headed down to the holding cells and found Harvey sitting on one of the cots.
“Hey Harvey. Having a good time?” Randy asked.
“Sure. Watching the mouse try to beat up that big cockroach over there,” he said pointing to the corner where a small brown mouse was watching a large cockroach intently.
“I’ll take the mouse,” Randy said.
“For five? I’ll take the roach.”
“You’re on.”
They watched for a few minutes as the mouse ever so carefully moved forward, a centimeter at a time. Suddenly the cockroach jumped on the mouse’s head and scurried down its back. It dashed across the floor and out under the door. The mouse was circling around; looking for the cockroach, but it was long gone.
“That will be five bucks,” Harvey said, holding out his hand with the palm up.
“I’ve been suckered.”
“You sure have. I’ve seen this happen about three or four times now. The mouse is just dumb,” Harvey said, laughing.
“Look Harvey, we want you to take a look at this picture. Do you recognize her at all?” Logan said handing him the picture.
He glanced at it and said, “Never saw her before.”
“Look at it real good. Are you sure?”
“Like I told you. This chick was big. Tall and not all that good looking. Not nearly as good looking as this chick,” he said indicating the picture, “Besides, she had blonde hair. This is definitely not the girl I sold the piece to.”
“Even if she was in a wig and had on high-heels?” Logan asked.
“Don’t you guys get it? She would have had to been on stilts to have been as big as the woman I sold the gun to. Sorry, you got the wrong gal. Is she a queer too?”
“Yes. She’s a lesbian too,” Logan said.
They went back upstairs and Logan sat down at his desk and picked up his pencil again.
“Oh great, an encore,” Randy sighed.
“I could sing along with it if that would help,” Logan said.
“And I could just go on back to Missing Persons if you’re gonna start singing.”
* * *
“We need to talk,” the voice said.
He gripped the phone tighter, “why?”
“Something has come up. I don’t want to talk on the phone about it. Can you meet me at the Java Joint at Keystone in a half hour?”
“I guess so if it is absolutely necessary. I don’t like meeting, especially not right now,” he said.
“I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t necessary. I don’t like it any better than you do.”
“I’ll be there. Look, this has better be damned important or I’m going to be really pissed.”
“Get over it. Just be there.”
The line went dead before he could hang up. He wanted to hang up first just for the satisfaction.
He cleared off his desk and drove to Keystone at the Crossing and parked. He looked in a few store windows, taking his time. He wanted to be sure he wasn’t being followed. He cautiously made his way to the Java Joint. He was about three minutes late, but at least he felt fairly sure he wasn’t followed.
“You’re late.”
“So? I wanted to make sure no one was following
me,” he said, sitting down.
“You want something?”
“Sure, I want to know why you called me,” he said.
“I mean to drink?”
“Hell no. Just tell me what is so important,” he said.
“They know Sharon didn’t buy the gun. They traced it back to Ohio. They aren’t treating this like a normal suicide.”
“Crap. How do you know?”
“I got it from a special source. They are just letting people think it was a suicide but they are continuing to investigate.”
“That is not good. I wonder how they got the serial number?” he asked.
“Who knows? It’s not important. What is important is that we need to be very careful. I’m sure they will want to talk to us again. We need to make sure we all have our story straight.”
He rubbed his eyes with his hands unit he could see little sparks of electricity dancing on his eyelids. This was not getting better. In fact, the death of Thompson was only complicating the situation. He should never have gone along with that part. Sharon was bad enough but when you throw in Thompson, it was sure to alarm the police. He should have stopped it. Now what? This Detective Logan was not going to be easily fooled or put off. They were going to have to make sure all their bases were covered. He was sure he was going to have to take additional steps to cover his tracks.
“Did they say why they didn’t think it was a suicide?” he asked at last.
“No. Just that it didn’t fit the standard pattern of a suicide.”
“Pattern? You mean suicides have patterns? I thought people just blew their brains out and that was that,” he said.
“Apparently there is more to it than that.”
“Okay, so that was botched. We will just have to make sure we don’t make any other mistakes.”
“Botched? Are you saying I caused this?”
“No. I’m just pointing out that we need to be more careful. One more slip-up like that and we could very well end up in jail.”
“I didn’t botch it.”
“Get over it. Focus on what we need to do from here on out,” he said, raising his voice an octave.
“Keep it down. We don’t want the whole café to know about this.”
“Then drop it. Look, unless you have anything else, I need to get back. I want to finish today and get the hell out of here for a while.”
“Fine. That’s it. And you’re welcome.”
“Sorry. Thanks for the heads up. It was worth coming for. Keep your head down and I would suggest you get out of town for a while too. Make it look like it was planned well in advance so no questions will be asked.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Yes. I’m sure you can,” he said and walked out of the café.
He took his time once more and watched to see if anyone was paying any attention to him. He felt secure as he made his way to his Lexus and drove off.
CHAPTER TWENTY-S IX
“Detective John Logan?”
“Yes, this is Logan.”
“This is Terry Ryan. From the University.”
“What can I do for you Dr. Ryan?”
“Terry. And someone has broken into my house. I just got home and everything is all over the place. Things are broken and tossed around,” he said.
“I’ll send a car over,” Logan said.
“Please. Could you come? I don’t know if this has to do with the Sharon Lewis thing or not,” he said.
“Why would that be?”
“Everyone is talking about it at the University. Most of the others are mad at me because I spilled the beans. Somehow they think I’m to blame for them being in trouble,” he said.
“Look. I’ll come along but I doubt it will be of any help.”
“I guess I would just feel better.”
“Where are you now?”
“At home.”
“I mean, exactly.”
“Oh. In the bedroom.”
“Stay where you are. Don’t go poking around to see what is missing. Just wait until we get there,” Logan told him.
Terry had done as instructed. He was sitting on the edge of the bed when Logan and Nelson arrived with the crime scene investigators.
“Tell me what happened,” Logan said.
“Well, I came home. I had just finished up with the last work details before taking off on vacation with my daughter. I noticed the door was slightly ajar and I thought I must have forgotten to push it hard enough. It’s kind of hard to close. When I opened the door, well, you can see for yourself what I walked into. Things just thrown about. I went from room to room and it was the same thing. I then came in here and called you,” Terry said.
“Did you touch anything?”
“Most likely. I sort of stumbled around. I was at a loss as what to do. I remember picking up a broken picture of my deceased wife and putting it on the mantle,” he said.
“Is that all?”
“All that I really remember. Sorry. I was just so shocked.”
“Where is your daughter now?”
“Sarah is with her friends. They are having a graduation party that started this afternoon and goes until 10:00 p.m. I won’t let her stay out after 10:00 p.m. even on graduation day.”
“You are definitely not going to have this place back in order by tonight. It will take the crime scene boys a couple of hours just to go over the major areas. Any idea who might have done this?” Logan asked.
“Not really. Like I said, a lot of people are mad at me. Somehow I am the bad guy in all of this. It’s like I did this to them. I don’t exactly get it,” he said.
“I know what you mean. Blame everyone but yourself. I think it’s something in the water,” Logan said.
“What do I do now?”
“Nothing really. You just have to wait until they get done and then do an inventory and see what is missing. From the looks of it, they were either looking for something or just trashing your place for the hell of it,” Logan told him.
“Should I have the locks changed?”
“That never hurts. Have a dead bolt added too. You could pick that lock on your front door with a good credit card.”
“Fine, anything else?”
“Does Sarah stay home alone often?”
“Well, not overnight, but she is often home while I am still at the college.”
“You might consider an alarm system as well. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just a simple circuit breaker alarm that lets you know when someone opens a door or window,” Logan told him.
“I’ll do it right away. This is very unnerving, having someone handle your personal belongings,” Terry said.
“Everyone feels that way. It’s a violation of our basic privacy. Did you happen to have any guns in the house?”
“Heavens no. With Sarah around and at home alone, I didn’t want to take the chance.”
“Well you might look at it another way. You should have a gun and teach her how to use it and the responsible way to handle it. It could save her life someday. Guns can save lives and do every day. The police can’t protect you 24 hours a day. The bad guys have guns and you need to be prepared to defend yourself. I would seriously consider getting one and learning how to use it properly and how to keep it safe in your house. Get your daughter involved from the start and it just may save you someday,” Logan told him.
“I’ll think about it. I don’t know if I could actually shoot someone,” he said.
“Could you to save your daughter’s or your life?”
“I guess. Maybe. If I thought they were going to hurt Sarah I guess I would do whatever it took to protect her,” Terry said.
“How? Talk them out of it? I don’t think so.”
“I get your point. I’ll look into it. I’m not even sure I can get a gun,” he said.
“Unless you have a criminal record, and I know you don’t, you can. It’s your second amendment right, regardless of what some politicians think. You have the right
to bear arms and to protect your life and loved ones. The Presidents have security police even if they do treat them like crap, what do you have?”
“I guess I have never thought about it much,” Terry confessed.
“You should. Something as simple as a small semi-automatic Beretta could save your life,” Logan said. Randy looked at Logan with a puzzled expression.
* * *
“A semi-automatic Beretta? What was that all about?” Randy said as they headed back to the car.
“I just wanted to see his expression when I mentioned the Beretta,” Logan said.
“Ah. You really are a suspicious old goat. Myler said that about you,” Randy said.
“He’s right for the most part. Look, too many things are happening to this same group of people. Someone is behind all of this and I intend, or rather, we intend to find out who it is,” Logan said.
“So, did you get a reaction?”
“A quick flicker but it could have been him just considering a gun. Beretta is a well-known brand. I didn’t get any big reaction. I think he was just reacting to the idea. He would have to be really good to cover it up and not give something away,” Logan said.
“Why did someone break in?”
“Who knows? We get break-ins every day. It’s part of life. Maybe it was just his turn,” Logan replied.
“I can’t believe I heard that come out of your mouth. Mr. Cynical saying it could just be a coincidence.”
“I said, it could be, but in fact, it wasn’t. Someone wanted to send him a message. He may know more than he is telling us and is afraid. One of the other instructors could be sending him a message.”
“It was a hell of a message. That place was fairly well trashed. I mean every room was hit,” Randy said.
“Tomorrow, I want to pull everyone’s military records. Let’s see if any of them had any special training,” Logan said.
“That’s kind of a long shot isn’t it? I mean, so what? I’ve had special military training but I don’t go around breaking into people’s houses,” Randy said.
“Really? You have never broken into someone’s house?”
“You know what I mean, other than in the line of duty,” Randy said.
“Let’s humor a cynical old man and check them anyway,” Logan said.
BLONDE DECEPTION - The Logan Files Page 10
