Kentucky Murders: A Small Town Murder Mystery

by Larry Parrott

  Chapter 14

  Tina had left the Louisville FBI office over an hour earlier. She must be getting close to this place. She had to look over at her note pad on the passenger seat. Michaeltown was some small town up near the state border. Her empty stomach growled. As she looked for signs for fast food restaurants, she thought of her partner, Larry, and sighed. His mother had died a few days ago and he’d gone off to Florida to be with his father who had taken the loss of his lifelong partner very hard. So, she would be alone for the first time in a long time on a case. If it turned out to be serious, she could always call in the troops. However, she knew from experience that most of these “hate” crimes rarely panned out. Her boss had briefed her and there were two dead adults and an orphaned girl who seemed to have been lucky to escape. The family was black in a mostly white area. And then there was the swastika. She would have to see what tuned up. For now, she would assist the local sheriff and assess the situation.

  Finally, the sign for the next exit read Michaeltown. The sun had reached its highest point in the sky. She didn’t need to look at a clock to tell her it was lunch time. Instead, her stomach pains told her it was time to eat. Another sign showed that almost all the well-known fast-food restaurants would be competing for her six bucks. Nothing like a greasy, cholesterol filled combo meal to give you a burst of energy. McDonalds won the battle this time. She pulled in and took a parking spot up front. She didn’t anticipate needing her gun under the Golden Arches so she locked it in the glove compartment and got out of the car. Two men dressed in grungy ball caps, faded blue jeans, flannel shirts and work boots, who were on their way to a nearby pickup truck, gave her the once over. She was used to being gawked at. In this part of the country they weren’t accustomed to seeing a five-foot-five Asian woman with long black hair in a classy suit. Even though she may have looked out of place, it probably wasn’t the suit they were staring at. She just nodded to the thugs and went inside.

  “Welcome to McDonalds. May I take your order?” intoned the bored teenager

  She placed her order for a chicken salad. She had maintained her self-control and resisted ordering the burger and fries. After all, she hadn’t had time to work out in days. She took pride in her athletically toned body. Now that she was thirty, she had to work even harder at keeping in shape.

  As she slid into the fiberglass booth with her plastic tray of food, she surveyed the room. Her FBI academy training and six years of experience had taught her to be aware of her surroundings and to anticipate any threats. The crowd was the usual--families, teenagers, and a fat truck driver in the back corner, and then there was him.

  He was fifty-something, muscular, and looked like he’d spent many years working with his hands. He wore blue jeans, a black tee shirt, and a black leather vest. His huge arms were adorned with tattoos. She hated herself for it, but she found him attractive. Everyone had their flaws, and she had to live with hers. She couldn’t help finding biker-type guys attractive, even though this one was probably twenty years her senior; although, he looked to be in better shape than ninety percent of guys her age. She shook her head, unwrapped her plastic fork and knife, and dug into her salad.

  ---

  Lee noticed movement in his peripheral vision and turned. As Jenny turned the corner, she smiled and picked up the pace of her footsteps, not running, but almost.

  Lee smiled back at her as she approached. “Hi there, Sweetie.”

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  “How was school today?”

  She came up and leaned against the truck next to him. She edged over until her shoulder touched against his leg and looked down shyly. “I had a math test.” She made a face like something smelled badly. “I hate math.”

  Lee put his hand on her shoulder. She wore a brown dress in a plaid pattern, black shoes with white socks, and a red bow tied in her brown hair at the back of her head. Lee had spent years, day after day, night after night, thinking about the chance of being with his daughter. His head felt light. But he didn’t waste any time. “Honey, would you like to come and live with me?”

  She looked up and a smile slowly formed. Her eyes grew big. Turning to him she hugged him around the waist and he leaned over, returning her embrace.

  “Yes, daddy.”

  Lee began giving his daughter instructions on their escape plan.

  ---

  Later, Jenny was returning home from school. She turned the street corner and stopped in her tracks when saw his car parked in the driveway of their house. She didn’t like mommy’s new boyfriend. He looked at her funny and petted her like a dog. Where could she go? She didn’t want to go home. Now she had her Daddy back and wished she knew where he lived so she could go stay with him right then. But she remembered what he had said. She must keep him a secret from her mommy. If mommy knew she’d been seeing daddy, she would call the judge and have him put away. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to see him anymore and wouldn’t be able to go live with him like he promised if they put him away.

  She had known her daddy the first time she saw him. She had always carried his picture with her since she was little. Mommy didn’t know or she might have taken it away. She didn’t have baby memories of daddy, but she remembered him somehow. Maybe the way his face looked and how he talked. He didn’t feel like a stranger, the kind you’re not supposed to talk to. He felt like a daddy. He was surprised she already knew until she showed him the picture. Going to live with daddy would be fun. Anything to get away from those creeps her mommy always brought home.

  She sighed and walked across the street to her friend’s house. Mommy’s boyfriend worked at night so maybe he would be leaving soon.

  Chapter 15

  Tina Simpson finished eating and headed into town to meet the sheriff. This ought to be interesting. She hadn’t dealt with a small town murder for several years. Most of her investigations had been in larger cities. From what she’d seen in the past, these small town cops didn’t have a clue of how to investigate a crime. But she had to keep an open mind and see what turned up.

  The county sheriff’s office was just on the edge of town. She pulled into the parking lot at what looked like a fairly new building.

  As she walked up the sidewalk to the front entrance she nodded to a couple of deputies exiting the building. Inside, she approached the counter where a young female officer sat, speaking on the phone. After a few seconds, she hung up and looked at Tina. “May I help you?”

  Tina removed her ID wallet and flipped it open. “Agent Simpson to see the sheriff.”

  The officer raised her eyebrows and looked her over. “Ah, have a seat and I’ll see if he’s available.”

  ---

  Donnie sipped his coffee and sat in a white plastic chair on his small front porch. He looked up at the sun and then at his wrist watch he saw it was going on three.

  He hadn’t spoken to Lee since their trip to Social Services. Lee had told him to be patient but it would be dark in a few hours and he was still waiting. Patience? This is bullshit. Lee and his damn plans. “Well, screw his plan. It’s time for me to take action.” He stood and went into the house to find his keys and his 9 millimeter hand gun.

  Then the phone rang.

  “Yeah?”

  “Steal a car and pick me up in an hour.”

  “About damn time.”

  ---

  The phone buzzed and he picked it up.

  “Sheriff, she’s here.”

  “Thanks. Send her back.”

  The sound of footsteps entering the office made him look up from the photos he was studying. Before him stood a stunningly attractive Asian woman with long black hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore a dark pants suit with a white button down shirt, the top few buttons open, revealing smooth brownish skin, protruding collar bones and a slight hint of cleavage. She stood about five and a half feet tall with a slim, athletic figure. Zack looked her in the eyes, stepped around the desk, and extended his hand
to her. “Sheriff Zack Taylor.”

  She firmly shook his hand. “Sheriff, I’m Agent Simpson, Tina Simpson.”

  “Have a seat, Agent Simpson.” He motioned to one of the two chairs placed in front of his desk, and he moved back around and took his seat. “We’re glad to have you here to help us out on this one.” He looked into her large brown eyes and wondered what nationality she was. She sounded like she was from the Midwest.

  “Are you alone?”

  “My partner got called away for a family thing. So I’ll be working this solo, depending on what the investigation turns up. I’m only here to assist at this point. I’ve been briefed but wasn’t given many details yet.”

  Zack couldn’t help himself and even though he knew it was totally inappropriate, he asked, “Agent Simpson, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  She shrugged.

  “What nationality are you?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “My father is white. He was a Marine in Vietnam and met my mom while on leave in Manila. That’s in the Philippines.”

  “I know.”

  “You’d be surprised how many people don’t know. Anyway, he brought her back to the States and then I arrived a few years later. What nationality are you?”

  “I … ah … I guess I’m descended from the English.” Then he got her hint. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to …”

  “Unless you’d like to ask me any more personal questions, can we get to work on catching a killer?”

  Chastised, Zack hurriedly slid the file to her and spun it around. He began going through the pictures, telling her about the couple who’d bought the farm, no pun intended, less than six months ago. He showed her a plastic bag with their drivers’ licenses inside. He explained the former DA angle as a possible motive. He told her about Sharnita and the fact that she was staying at Social Services until they could contact a relative.

  She listened as she went through the pictures, then the pages written up on the case so far. “Have your people contact my office and we can help with tracking down those DA case files and following up on possible suspects.” She removed her card from her breast pocket and wrote something on it before handing it to Zack. “They can call Joe. Tell him it’s my case. Anything else?”

  “Well, we’ve got casts of the footprints and tire tracks.”

  “We can help with those too.”

  She stood. “I guess the first thing we should do is take a look at the scene,” She closed the file and tucked it under her arm.

  Zack stood and came around the desk. “You can ride with me. It’s the Blazer parked out front. I’ll be right out.”

  The FBI agent paused near the door on the way out of the office to look at a plaque hanging on the wall. “Expert marksman, huh?”

  Zack shrugged. “Yeah I won the handgun competition at the academy. I didn’t even know I could shoot. They said I was a natural.”

  She nodded her approval and they exited Zack’s office.

  As he followed her down the hallway he couldn’t help but admire her from behind. Even in a ponytail, her hair hung down almost to her waist. Guiltily, Zack remembered his wife and forced himself to look away. She went out the front door and he turned to the desk of one of his officers.

  “Call Joe at the FBI. The number listed on the back of this card. He’ll help with the DA lead and tell him about the other evidence we have. We’re going out to the scene. I’ll be back later. Call me if anything comes up.”

  “Got it sheriff.”

  “What about relatives?”

  “We think we found an Aunt up in Chicago. We’re trying to contact her now.”

  “Good. Keep working on it. I’ll talk to you later.” Zack turned and went outside.

  Twenty minutes later Zack and Agent Simpson pulled into the driveway of the farmhouse and parked close to the house. They got out and Zack walked around the front of the car. The agent was looking in all directions, surveying the landscape around the farm. “Where was the suspect’s vehicle parked?”

  He pointed across to the corner of the field where the woods met the road. “My investigator’s notes said they were just down past the end of that row of trees. From the tire tracks, it looks like a truck or maybe a van. We found the footprints at the back of the house and along the edge of the woods. They crossed the field on the other side of the house where we got a clear cast of several different shoe or boot prints. They broke in through the back door.”

  “My people will be able to tell us the brand and model of the tires and the shoes. Then we can see who sells them locally. But most likely they’ll be used to identify suspects after we catch them. On the ride out here you mentioned a daughter that survived. Where did you find her?”

  “This way. Around the back.”

  As they walked away from the car, he remembered that he had forgotten to charge his cell phone. The battery had been dead last night. He wanted to check back in with Kate to see how things were going with the girl. He would have to wait.

  Zack showed Agent Simpson the playhouse, where they had found the footprints at the back corner of the house, and the back doorjamb where they had broken in.

  As they entered the door, the agent stopped and inspected the hinges, leaning in close to the door. “Smell that?”

  “What?”

  “Fresh oil on the hinges.” She ran her finger along the screen door hinges. “Here,” then she swung open the wooden door and reached in the crack at the door jam, “and here.”

  “The hinges are freshly oiled. What about it? The victims probably did it.”

  She reached into her pocket and removed a clear plastic bag with several Q-tips inside. Removing the Q-tips, she rubbed them on several areas of the hinges and placed them in the bag, then returned the bag to her pocket. “I’ll bet you don’t find any oil like this in the house. If I’m right and we eventually find these killers, there’s matching oil in their vehicle or home. It’s probably a small spray can.” She entered the kitchen. “Little things like that come in handy at trial. This also means these guys weren’t messing around. How many run-of-the-mill burglars or druggies are that careful?”

  Zack was impressed. Even his investigator, if you could call her that since this was her first murder investigation, didn’t notice the fresh oil. Maybe this FBI agent’s experience and her resources back at the office could make this case easier for him. And maybe he could learn something along the way. As he followed her through to the next room he tried to remember her first name? Tina? Yeah, that was it. She was not only attractive but smart too. He caught himself again. Stop it man. “Sorry, Kate,” he murmured.

  “What was that?” she said, stopping and turning to him.

  “Nothing, just need to call my wife when I get a chance. It’s okay.”

  They continued up the stairs and checked out the second floor. She found several other possible pieces of evidence including a few hairs that looked to be from a Caucasian, rather than a black person. She bagged the hairs and a few other tiny items and they went back outside.

  “Doesn’t look like they gave us much to work with. That’s enough for now. Let’s get back to your office and I’ll get all this evidence, along with the items you found, off to our lab. We’ll also see how it’s going on the victims’ background checks and if any other possible suspects have shown up.”

  “I’ve got one of my guys looking into our victim’s former convictions when he was an ADA. But we appreciate any help you can give us.”

  As they walked back to the car she spoke up again. “I checked our files before I left the office and didn’t see any recent activity of any hate groups operating in the area. Have you heard of anything like that around here?”

  “No. I was surprised to see that swastika. I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “I have an idea,” said agent Simpson. “I’ll tell you in the car.”

  They approached the car and climbed in. Zack started the engine and they left the crime scene
behind.

  ---

  As Donnie pulled up in front of Lee’s trailer he spotted him waiting in the driveway under the carport. He had a military duffel bag with him. He opened the side door of the van and tossed the bag inside. He closed the door and came around to Donnie’s open driver’s window.

  “You stole a van? It looks just like yours.”

  “Hey, I like vans.”

  “Okay, here’s the plan.”

  Donnie sucked in a breath. Finally.

  Lee looked down for several seconds before looking back up and speaking. “Follow me out to the lake and we’ll stage my truck for later. Then we’ll go to Social Services and wait until it gets dark at around five forty-five or six. All the day shift employees should be gone by then which will leave only the guard and one or two others. I’ve got masks, the shotguns and some of those plastic tie-ties in the bag. I also have a bottle of chloroform my cousin got for me from the clinic he works at. We go in, tie up whatever employees are still there and grab the kid. We’ll knock her out with the chloroform. I talked to the money guy. Once we have her, we call him and he’ll tell us where to deliver her. Then we ditch the van, pick up my truck, and get our money for the girl.”

  “That’s your plan? Shit, I could have come up with that.”

  “Yeah, well. We just need to get this thing done and over.”

  “No shit.”

  “And don’t shoot anyone. I mean, unless you have to.”

  Lee climbed into his truck and drove out of the driveway a minute later. Donnie followed.

  ---

  They pulled into the hard packed gravel parking lot filled with pickup trucks and chopped motorcycles. Zack took a spot near the rather bland looking dark building made of cinderblocks painted dark brown. Above the front entrance hung a flashing red, white, and blue florescent sign reading Johnny D’s in two foot letters.

  “It's only late afternoon and the place is packed.” Tina chuckled and shook her head as she got out of the car.