Deep-Fried Homicide (The Laurel Falls Mysteries Book 1)

by Patricia Lee Macomber

  “Good morning, Sheriff,” Macy said as brightly as she could. “What can I do you for this morning?”

  “You can bring me a nice hot cup of coffee…and your partner, Rachel.”

  Macy checked his face, found it dark, tired and taut. “Here’s your coffee,” she chirped, sliding the mug in front of him and pouring it full of the brew. The back door suddenly gaped and Macy looked up. “And here’s Rachel. Rachel, Sheriff Dooley would like a word with you.”

  Rachel looked for a moment like she had just been handed a death sentence. Then her face cleared and she smiled. “Sheriff Dooley, good morning. How can I help you?”

  “Everything good with the kiddo?” Macy whispered in her ear as she passed.

  “It’s all good.”

  “Rachel, I just wanted to stop by and let you know that we got a positive ID on one of those photos you gave me. The burly, bald-headed guy is Thomas ‘Tomcat’ Hawkins. Known felon, did time for armed robbery upstate. Two assault charges. A couple of minor run-ins. I can’t imagine what he’s doing around these parts, though. He mostly hangs around Raleigh or Charlotte, where his kin lives.”

  “Did you get anything on any of the others?” She leaned on the counter then, hanging on his every word.

  “I’m afraid not. They just weren’t clear enough, even with your enhancements. But I did send a couple of men out to take casts of the tire tracks out by the mausoleum. I don’t s’pect much will come of that, either, since there’s about a hundred trucks around these parts with those same tires. They dusted the headstones and such for prints, too, but there wasn’t anything clear enough to help us. The video you took was a lot of help and we sure will be bringing Hawkins in for questioning.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “But I am going to tell you this: If I catch you going out to that cemetery on any more surveillance missions, I’m gonna haul you in and put you in a cell until your husband comes to collect you. Am I making myself clear?”

  Rachel nodded vigorously, biting into her lip and letting her eyes go wide. “Rick and I have already had this discussion. I am well and goodly chastised and you both have my solemn promise that I will stay away from the cemetery except for funerals.”

  “Good girl. It would kill me to see you get hurt in all this.”

  “Understood, Sheriff. Now, can I get you something for breakfast?”

  “I think I’ll have me one of those big fat bacon omelets that Rick makes so well. It’s that kind of day.”

  “Coming right up,” Rachel laughed.

  Macy snagged her arm as she headed for the kitchen. “What’s this I hear about surveillance at the cemetery?”

  “I’ll tell you all about it later, hon.” Rachel smiled that placating little smile of hers and winked. “Right now, the sheriff wants his breakfast.”

  Chapter 7

  “Have you ever wondered what it would have been like if we’d been high school sweethearts?” Rick asked her out of the blue as they were walking home.

  “I can honestly say I never have.” Rachel looked up at him quizzically. It wasn’t like him to have these sorts of discussions, these relationship discussions.

  “I’ve thought about it. Sometimes. I mean, we met later in life, when we were both adults. I just think we missed out on some things is all.”

  Again she gawked at him, wondering just where all that sentimentality was coming from. “Okay…like what?”

  “Well, if we had dated in high school, we’d have made out in the halls. We would have a lot of things in common before we got married. Imagine us going to all the football games together. You’d be the head cheerleader…”

  “You take that back!” She laughed then and it was full of good humor and warmth.

  “Yea, maybe more like the band geek. Flute, I think. And I would be the quarterback…”

  “Because you were the quarterback in high school…”

  “And college.” His eyes got that faraway look in them, as though he could see back through time and was watching his younger self score a touchdown. He shook it off and continued. “We’d go out every Saturday night.”

  “Where would we go?”

  “I dunno. Probably dinner. A movie. And then we’d go up to The Point and make out.”

  “What are you telling me here?” Rachel laughed. “That you want to drive up to The Point and make out?” She pulled her half-smile off to one side of her face and stared at him.

  “Yea.” He smiled back at her, his eyes twinkling in the captured streetlamp light. “Maybe.”

  “Okay. So we will.”

  “But maybe not all the way up to The Point. Maybe somewhere closer.”

  “Like where?” Her suspicion raised the hairs on the back of her neck and made her nose tickle.

  “I don’t know. Somewhere closer. Somewhere…dark.” They turned down the driveway then, still hand-in-hand and shoulder-to-shoulder.

  “Well, give me a for instance. I mean, how can I know if I want to go someplace and make out with a fella if I don’t know where we’re going?”

  “Just trust me, okay? Get in the car.” He gave her hand a little squeeze and darted around the car to the driver’s side door.

  Rachel stood there a moment longer, wondering what sort of mid-life madness had seized her usually level-headed husband. In the end, she decided that any adventure with Rick was worth the risk, so she yanked open the passenger door and leaped in.

  Rick had the look on his face of a dog who had just discovered he could jump the back fence. His eyes were wide and gleeful and his smile spread infectiously to the rest of his face. For possibly the millionth time, Rachel discovered that he had dimples when he smiled broadly.

  As Rick guided the car out of the driveway, she squealed like a teenage girl at the height of a crush. Then the car was gliding down the street and into its first turn, the one that took it up into the ritzy neighborhood in the hills.

  The hills weren’t much, mind you. In fact, they were probably just the leavings of some mining company or other, a place to pile the useless dirt. But some genius had come along and put in four roads and thirty huge houses, then sat back and watched his bank account get fat. It was nice to drive through the neighborhood and dream once in a while, but for most of the Laurel Falls residents, a house like those sported in Cedar Hills was just that: a dream.

  The main road in the neighborhood gave way to four other roads which culminated in cul-de-sacs, while it only ended in an ugly barricade. But while the barricade was ugly and rusted, the view was spectacular. From there, one could see the entire vista of Laurel Falls, all the way to the ocean.

  It was this dead end which Rick chose for his make-out spot and he doused the lights and killed the engine as the car glided silently up to the barricade. He leaned back with his big, naughty-boy smile and put his arm around Rachel.

  “Nice choice,” she giggled. “Great view, no risk of being disturbed. You have good taste.”

  “Darn right I do,” he said, edging closer to her, pulling at her shoulders to move her nearer to him. “I married you, didn’t I?”

  She giggled like a co-ed and shook her head. “You are incorrigible!” she said, her voice fringed with laughter and her eyes dancing.

  He kissed her then, softly and with one hand pressed to her cheek. Rachel thought he was the best kisser she’d ever known, especially just then. She was giddy and when Rick withdrew, her head swam a bit.

  “Wow!” he said with a smile. “Now I really wish we had dated in high school.” He pulled her close, felt her head land in that familiar spot on his shoulder.

  They sat for several long minutes. Silently staring out at the town. The lights twinkled, cars traced light drawings on their way home. The night was so clear that the stars nearly outshone the lights of the town.

  “It is really so beautiful up here. Promise me, if we ever get rich, the first thing we’ll do is buy a house up here.” She glanced at him briefly, then turned her eyes back to the
town below her.

  “I promise,” Rick answered, giving her shoulder a little rub.

  “You can see everything from here. The mayor’s house, town hall, the old mill. And right down there is our diner and the drug store and…oh my God!” She began slapping his chest. The sound was like a ping pong paddle hitting a side of beef. “I can’t believe you did this. You sneaky, underhanded, lying…”

  He fended her off as best he could without retaliating. She was furious and it was his fault and he knew it. Still, the slaps hurt. He felt his chest reddening beneath his shirt, the heat spreading across his body and drawing beads of sweat on his forehead. “Okay, okay! Stop it!”

  She withdrew across the car seat, pressing her back against the door and scowling at him. “You tricked me into coming up here, just so you could watch the cemetery from a safe distance. All those sweet words, all that romantic…that romantic…crap! And all you really wanted was to keep an eye on the cemetery.” She stopped then because she was out of breath, furious.

  “You wanted to keep the cemetery under surveillance yourself. You’re the one who started this. I just gave you a way to do that that would be safe for you.”

  “It’s not what you did, it’s the way you did it. Sheesh, Rick. All you had to do was tell me what we were doing. I’d have been the first one in the car. You didn’t have to trick me and pretend that you were all romantic and…and…stuff.”

  “And stuff?”

  She punched him hard on the arm. “Shut up.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I really do wish we’d been together in high school. I wish we’d always been together.”

  “Aw!” She leaned forward to hug and kiss him, but fell face-first onto the seat when Rick leaned toward the windshield. “What the…?” She pushed herself back to a sitting position and glared at the back of Rick’s head.

  “Look! Right there. Two trucks just drove into the cemetery with their lights off.”

  Rachel squinted through the smudged windshield. “It’s so dark down there. How can you see that?”

  “Outstanding night vision,” he answered, eyebrows dancing. He watched the cemetery for a few seconds longer, squinting a bit to make out details. “They’re unloading men and equipment from the trucks. I think it’s time to call the sheriff.”

  “Good idea. Let the cops handle it. Do we have any binoculars?” Her eyes were riveted to the scene below, her face made of stone.

  “Do you keep binoculars in your car? And if so…why?”

  Her eyes met his and she made note of the amusement in his expression. “Just thought I’d ask.”

  Rick produced his cell phone and dialed Sheriff Dooley’s number from memory. “Sheriff. This is Rick. Yea, we’ve got action in the cemetery again. Same spot. I’d come in the front and the side gates. That way you’ll have them cornered.” Rick studied the back of Rachel’s head, she completely transfixed by the scene in the cemetery. “No, we’re watching from up on the hill. We’ll stay clear.”

  “Tell him to call us when they know something,” Rachel whispered, as though she thought louder words might somehow disturb the men in the graveyard.

  “Rachel wants you to call us when you know something. Okay. Thanks.” He turned off the phone and slid it into his pocket.

  “Now we’ll find out what’s going on. Oh yes we will!” There was a near maniacal smile on Rachel’s face just then.

  “Honey, watch it. You’re drooling on my dashboard.” He chuckled at his own joke and rubbed her back.

  She ignored him and continued to watch the drama below like a dog watching his owner eat a sandwich. Leaning forward, hands pressed to the dashboard, eyes squinted, she stared into the night, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Rachel could make out two trucks in the cemetery, but not their color or make. Everything there was mere shadow, a darker shade of black in an ocean of black. Random splotches of light flickered and flashed, falling from the dim streetlamps only to be gobbled up in the wind-shaken trees. Still, if she fixed her eyes on one single spot, she could detect the motion of the men.

  Presently, a string of cars wound its way toward the cemetery. They had come from the police station and were driving as quickly as possible. No lights, no sirens, they favored stealth and the line of cars broke into two halves as they reached the main cemetery entrance. Two cars went in the front gate, slowing as they did so, waiting for the other two to reach their position at the side gate. Once the cars had all reached the wooded section just before the oldest graveyard, they sped up, turning on their lights and roaring toward the mausoleum.

  Down below in the cemetery, men scattered. Things were thrown into the trucks, objects were grabbed from them. Then the entire gang headed for the mausoleum, throwing open the door and dashing inside.

  The police had arrived by that time and were climbing out of the cars amid yells of “Laurel Falls Police! Halt!” and “Stop or we’ll shoot!” Rachel watched with near-rabid fascination, her grip on the dashboard tightening.

  The door on the mausoleum closed, all men inside. The police rushed it, eight officers drawing their weapons as one and flanking the door.

  “Come out with your hands up.” Rachel recognized the booming voice of Sheriff Dooley at once.

  The call was given a second time and then Dooley lost his patience. Red and blue lights played over the cemetery; several spotlights were aimed at the mausoleum. It improved Rachel’s view of the scene and now Rick had leaned forward to watch the goings-on.

  “They’re cornered now,” Rachel growled and Rick waited for the Renfield-style laugh that should naturally have followed. It did not.

  The doors were thrown open and men rushed inside. The still of late-night Laurel Falls took over.

  Presently, the eight policemen exited the mausoleum, weapons holstered once more. Rachel collapsed against the back of the seat.

  “What the….” She was crestfallen.

  “I don’t know, baby. They went inside there. We saw them.”

  “Yea, yea. We saw them. The police saw them. And now…nothing!” She sneered into the darkness and folded her arms over her chest. “Maybe we should go down there and see what’s going on.”

  “I think we should…” Rick was saved from saying any more by the ring of his phone.

  “Rick here.”

  “Dooley…”

  “I’m putting you on speaker. Rachel’s here.”

  “What the heck happened, Sheriff?” Rachel wanted to know.

  “I have no idea. We made the approach. They didn’t even see us until we were like fifty yards from their position. They ran into that mausoleum and when we busted in there, it was empty. Well, except for the three corpses, of course. It’s a family mausoleum.”

  “They didn’t come out the back,” Rick added. “We would have seen them.”

  “I know. Honestly, I’m baffled. We’ll run the plates on these trucks and dust ’em for prints. But I don’t know what else we can do.”

  “Is it okay if I come down and take a look around, Sheriff?” Rachel’s face was unreadable now, stoic.

  “No, ma’am. This is an active crime scene. I don’t want you civilians tromping all over my evidence. You keep your grubby little mitts off this place until we’re done processing it, ya hear?”

  “Yes, Sheriff.” Dejected once more, Rachel sank deeper into the car seat. “Good luck with it all.”

  Rick hung up the phone and turned to his wife. “Well, we tried.” He started the engine then, checked Rachel’s face.

  “There has to be another way out of there. Or a second room. A secret room. Something.”

  “Be that as it may, it’s late. This is police business now and there’s nothing left for us but to go home and get a good night’s sleep. I’m sure Sheriff Dooley will tell us about anything he finds as soon as he finds it.”

  “Yea. Sure.”

  Rick put the car in reverse and began backing toward the road.

  Rachel stared pensivel
y out the window. Her face was dour and already her mind was spinning with possibilities. It was certain she wouldn’t sleep that night. Her brain was filled with details and scenarios.

  “Drive really slow past the cemetery, okay?”

  “Sure, baby.”

  And Rick did.

  The next morning, Rick and Rachel drove to work rather than walked. Rachel hadn’t slept a wink and her constant tossing, turning, and leaving the bed kept Rick from ever achieving deep sleep. They walked into the diner late, feet dragging the floor, eyes dull and heavily lidded.

  “Good heavens! Look what the cat dragged in,” Macy laughed.

  “You look like death warmed over,” Logan added.

  “Gee, thanks, guys.” Rick shuffled back to the kitchen and reached for his apron.

  “So, what’s up?” Macy asked, leaning on the counter and targeting Rachel with her stare.

  With a heavy sigh and a slump, Rachel eased onto the stool and propped herself up on the counter. “We were up on the hill last night, watching the cemetery.”

  “All night long?”

  “No, just until the bad guys showed up and the cops came. Then we went home.” Rachel yawned.

  “And of course, Rachel couldn’t sleep after that,” Rick added. “Which means I didn’t sleep either.”

  “Did they catch them? Find any clues?” Macy looked hopeful.

  “Actually, no. When the cops showed up, the bad guys ran into the mausoleum. But when the cops busted through the door like two minutes later, there was nobody inside.” Rachel watched Macy’s reaction, checked Logan’s face as well.

  “How can that be?”

  The sudden intrusion of Diane’s voice startled Rachel and she turned to face her. “I have no idea. The cops have no idea. It’s like magic, just poof and they were gone.”

  “Well, hopefully the trucks told them something.” Rick suddenly looked to the door. “Or maybe the sheriff is about to.”

  The bell sang out and the door opened, exhaling a gust of air conditioning onto the sidewalk. Dooley breezed through the door, looking nearly as disheveled and exhausted as Rick and Rachel.