A Deadly Discovery

by J. C. Kenney

  “There’s no need to get defensive. This is clearly important to you. I’m simply trying to make sure we’re on the same page.”

  She was right. As my counselor, she deserved my honesty. At the same time, she was still a person. There was no need for me to be a jerk.

  “My bad. I’m sorry. What’s making this case so hard is the police treating me like a bad cold. I’m not the bad guy. I’m trying to catch the bad buy.”

  Despite doctor-patient confidentiality assurances, I thought it best to stop there. There was no need to chance throwing Tommy or Jeanette under the bus, even if it was unintentional.

  “I’m sure the police don’t think you’re the bad buy. How about you give me a try? What has you frustrated?”

  I needed a moment to compose my thoughts. This was a new experience, despite all the conversations I’d had with the friendly, helpful woman sitting across from me.

  “Here’s my dilemma. How do I prove someone committed a murder twenty years ago when there’s no hard evidence?”

  I took her through the case from start to finish. Not a detail was omitted. Connie’s case materials, my research, the photos, the rope, the DNA information. She took notes as I talked of narrowing the scope of my investigation down to two suspects.

  “The answer’s right there. I can see it. Taste it. But it’s just out of reach.” I stretched my arm toward her, making sure my fingers were extended out as far as they could go. Then I let it fall to my side. I let out a little grunt of frustration as I did so.

  “I gotta hand it to you, Allie. When it comes to facing moral dilemmas, you don’t mess around.” She laughed, then turned serious. “In all honesty, that’s quite the situation you’ve found yourself in.”

  “I know, right? Everything about this case comes down to timing, and I’m twenty years late. No matter what I do, that’s one thing I can’t change.”

  She poured us each a glass of water from a carafe. Then she took a drink. “I love the filtered water here in the office. The water at home doesn’t taste as good. I think it’s because of all the hard water particles.”

  “You could always get a water softener.” Water in Indiana is notoriously hard. Going without a softener can lead to scale buildup that damages appliances and leaves one with itchy, dry skin, among other issues.

  “You’re right. I had one for a while but hated the slimy way I felt in the shower. I never felt like I really got clean, so I got rid of it.” She took another drink.

  There had to be a point to this. Nessie always had one. It was on me to let it ride and see where we ended up.

  “My situation with the water softener reminds me of your current one. You want something to work, to fit together like pieces of a quilt. When you’re unable to sew them together, it’s aggravating.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “Then let me ask you this. Why not step away from the thing that’s causing you so much stress? You said the police have the DNA sample. Seems to me that, with the sample, it’s not a matter of if but when they arrest Valerie’s murderer.”

  Once again, I was faced with the million-dollar question. This time, I was ready with an answer.

  “You know how this town is. People talk. Word’s going to spread about the DNA match. As soon as the killer finds out, he’ll be out of town before Matt Roberson and company has a chance to show up at this doorstop.”

  “But one of your suspects runs his own business and the other has a good job at the grocery store. I’m not trying to be a naysayer, Allie, but I don’t see either of them leaving town any time soon.”

  “Fine. Point to the shrink. A butcher’s skill is needed everywhere, though. Same for insurance agents. Either of them could come up with an excuse for moving that sounds plausible.”

  “What are you going to do, then?”

  “There’s a delightful Australian TV show called Mr. and Mrs. Murder. It’s fabulous. One of the recurring themes is that the police have rules they have to follow. The protagonists often ignore those rules in order to solve the murder before the bad guy can get away.”

  “Okay.” She nodded, but her pursed lips indicated she’d lost the trail I was blazing. “So?”

  “I’m going to play by my own set of rules and catch Valerie’s killer before he has a chance to escape from my grasp.”

  On my way home, I made an unscheduled stop. It was an impulse decision. As I applied the brakes in front of Ye Olde Woodworker, I hoped it wasn’t a mistake.

  Sawdust swirled around Ozzie as his chainsaw sliced through a log twelve inches thick like it was a hot knife through butter. I picked a spot by the entrance to his work area that I hoped would let me watch him work while not bugging him.

  He sliced two more pieces from the log, like he was cutting pieces of bread from a giant-sized loaf. When he was finished, he put down the saw and wiped his brow with a blue shop towel.

  “What do you want?” He grabbed a broom and swept the sawdust on the floor into a single pile. “Well? I haven’t got all day. I’m a working man.”

  “Right. Sorry.” I took a step toward him and stopped. “I wanted to thank you for your kind words the other day about Ursula, my cat.”

  “Ursula, huh? Ursula K. Le Guin was a darn fine writer. Now, you’re gonna tell me about the time you met her, right?”

  He was engaging me instead of simply telling me to get lost. I took it as a good sign.

  “I wish. My dad met her once though. He told me that story a dozen times, at least.”

  “Your dad was a good man. He did a lot for this town.” He pointed his broom at me. “You’ve got big shoes to fill if you want to be like him.”

  In the time that it would take to snap my fingers, my eyes welled up. In a weird way, the curmudgeon had praised my father at the highest level.

  “I’ll never come close to filling his shoes, but I’ll try. I’ll get out of your hair, but I was wondering if I could ask you about something you said the other day.”

  He took a dustpan off a hook and waved it toward him. “Fire away.”

  “You mentioned Valerie wasn’t like the privileged kids. Would you consider Ted Borus or Dak Middleton privileged back then?”

  “The Borus kid, sure. Then again, living under his daddy’s thumb made his life of luxury not so enjoyable, if you get my drift.”

  “What about Dak?”

  “He was always pushing the envelope. Trying to get away with things just to see if he could. Kind of like Bobcat in that way. He’s changed for the better. Still doesn’t cut enough fat from the T-bones I get at the store, though.”

  I thanked Ozzy again and got out of there before his mood soured and he chased me off with the broom. Or worse, the chainsaw.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “Tonight’s the night, huh?” Calypso scratched Ursi with one hand as she flipped to the next page of a manuscript she was editing with the other.

  A little bit ago, my kitty and I had returned from her annual checkup with the vet. Her hip was sore from the rabies vaccination, which had her in a foul mood. She was punishing me by lavishing all her attention on Calypso.

  “That it is. Dr. Flanagan clipped Ursi’s nails, cleaned her teeth, and gave her a clean bill of health. So, there’s nothing to distract me this evening.”

  I sent the meeting agenda I’d been working on to the printer. We were going to have an official committee meeting. Even with the budget being fully funded, the committee had an opportunity to make the occasion even more memorable. I wasn’t interested in sitting on my laurels. The occasion was too important.

  “Wish I could be there. It would be awesome to have my phone recording when things get crazy.”

  A sigh escaped me. It was loud enough that Ursi pinned an ear back and gave me a disapproving look.

  “What?” Calypso set the manuscript aside. “I’ve got a vested interest in this case. And I’ve helped you. You can’t deny that. I’m like Gray to your Dex.”

  The Stumptown
reference made me close my eyes and shake my head. But it also stopped an impending anxiety attack in its tracks. She did have a point, of sorts. She’d been a great help with the case. Having someone there who knew my plan couldn’t hurt.

  “If you want to check with Rachel about picking up a shift this evening, be my guest. What you tell her is between you and her. Keep your lips sealed about what I’ve got planned, though. The fewer people who know, the better.”

  She scrunched up her nose. “Wait a minute. You’re going to give the cops a heads-up, aren’t you? What if things get out of hand?”

  I’d given the question a lot of thought. Regardless of how I looked at it, I came to the same conclusion.

  The police had to be kept in the dark.

  Calypso frowned when I explained my reasoning. After a minute, though, she reached for her phone.

  “Since you’re a friend, my lips are sealed. I’ll figure out a way to be there. Something tells me you’re gonna need it.”

  I hoped she was wrong on that point. The dark storm clouds that continued to build suggested she wasn’t.

  A few hours later, I strode into the Pub’s private meeting room. With a messenger bag containing important materials over my shoulder and a new pair of chinos to go with a Cobb Literary Agency polo, I was striving for an all-business vibe.

  If only I was as confident on the inside as I appeared on the outside.

  “Looking good, Boss.” Calypso gave me a wink. “Can I get you something to drink while you wait for your meeting to start? Maybe something unorthodox with an arresting flavor that will take your breath away?”

  Her words jarred me enough that I almost lost my step. Calypso evidently thought this was going to be fun and games. Like something out of an episode on an Acorn TV mystery. Simple, clean, and tied up with a happy-ending bow.

  She couldn’t have been more wrong.

  “Iced tea. No sweetener, please.” I stared at her long enough that Kim Frye, the reporter from the Beacon, cleared her throat.

  “Something wrong, Allie?” The ever-inquisitive reporter had her pen and notepad at the ready.

  “Nah. Sometimes Calypso likes to yank my chain about how much caffeine I drink.” I chatted with Kim while the rest of the meeting’s invitees arrived.

  When she asked me if the police had made any progress in locating the motorcyclist who hit me, I kept to the company line. It was a silly accident that I brought on myself by getting distracted. She didn’t seem convinced, but let it drop. For now, at least.

  Jack and Dak arrived together. They were in the middle of an animated discussion about the latest baseball standings. They gave me a quick nod and took seats next to each other to continue their discussion.

  I was seized by a moment of panic as my planned seating arrangements were suddenly at risk.

  Just then, Ted walked in, dressed in a flawless suit and tie. I had told him the committee wanted to publicly acknowledge him for his support, so he’d dressed for the occasion. Kim had her camera handy. A photo op was in the cards.

  Just not the type folks were planning on.

  Other folks drifted in. Angela, Matt, the other committee members, and finally, Connie.

  A murmur developed among the gathering. Why were Connie and Dak among us? I needed their presence for my plan to succeed, but they had no real part in the “official” meeting.

  Once everyone had arrived, I asked them all for their attention.

  “Thank you all for coming on such short notice. Before we get started, let’s give a warm welcome to special guests Connie Briggs and Dak Middleton.”

  I led the group in a round of applause, then busied myself getting people seated where I wanted them. Dak and Ted needed to be next to each other, Matt nearest to the door, Connie and Mayor Angela by each other’s side.

  While we were getting settled, Calypso entered the room to take drink orders. When she got to me, she leaned in close. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you, Boss?”

  “There’s a method to my madness. Do me a favor and keep your eyes open and your mouth shut.” I forced a laugh. After having kept my voice low to prevent being overheard, I let it return to normal. “We’ll have an order of supreme nachos, potato skins, and fried veggies. Thanks.”

  One of the things about Rushing Creek community meetings was that they are equal parts social and business. While people chatted, I distributed the agenda. Jack tugged on my arm when I got to him.

  “Why are Dak and Connie here? I don’t recall discussing them yesterday.”

  “We did, in a roundabout way. Their attendance will help us keep donations rolling in. Watch and learn, my friend.”

  Calypso returned with refreshments. I took a long drink of my iced tea. I was going to need to be in good voice.

  “I’ll turn the agenda over to Jack in a moment. Before I do that, I wanted to make an exciting announcement. The committee is thrilled to announce that we’ve met out budget for the 9/11 Memorial.”

  The group responded with energetic applause. This was good. I wanted to put people in a happy frame of mind.

  And, in the process, convince a murderer to let his guard down.

  “I’ve asked Dak and Connie to join us to get their input on a proposal that’s been made to the committee. It was suggested we continue fundraising and that a certain percentage of what we collect from now until the day of the event be set aside to establish a fund in Valerie Briggs’s honor. Depending on how the fundraising goes, it could be anything from a memorial plaque somewhere to a scholarship awarded annually to a Rushing Creek High School student.”

  Around the room, jaws dropped. Except for Kim’s. She was too busy taking notes.

  “Connie, as Valerie’s mother, and Dak, as her boyfriend, we wanted you to be here for the announcement of this generous proposal. Any feedback you’d like to offer is appreciated.”

  Angela spoke first. She was a smart woman who recognized an opportunity to get some easy, positive press.

  “I think it’s an excellent idea.” She gave Connie’s hand a gentle squeeze. “While I’m sure nothing will ever ease the pain of losing your daughter, as mayor, I fully support this suggestion to keep her memory alive.”

  The grieving mother wiped away a tear with her thumb. “Thank you all. I’d like that.”

  “Borus Insurance will match any donations between now and then. Fifty cents on the dollar.” Ted adjusted his tie. “I’ll also talk to the treasurer from the class reunion committee. If there’s any money left from that, we’ll see if it can be directed to this fund.”

  “Nice, man.” Dak gave Ted a friendly jab to the ribs. “I’m sure the grocery store can make a contribution, too.”

  With positive vibes bouncing around the room, I turned the meeting over to Jack. The break would give me a chance to study the crowd.

  Calypso delivered the appetizers as he brought the meeting to order. She gave me a long look. “Do you need anything else?”

  “We’re good for now. Why don’t you check back in a bit?” I hesitated for a moment. “In case folks stick around after the meeting.”

  “Will do.” She made her exit, without any snarky comments this time. Thank goodness.

  I appreciated that Calypso wanted to help. Beneath her indifferent, tough-girl exterior was a young woman who wanted to make a difference.

  Growing up, she’d been wounded by parents who didn’t understand her. Her move to Rushing Creek had been a symptom of that. Yet, in the few months she’d been my neighbor, that tough-as-steel exterior had begun to soften.

  Her involvement in the protests for Valerie was a big sign that she cared about something more than herself and her aunt. Her presence here was another one.

  Despite my earlier reservations, I was glad to have her as my wingman.

  While Jack ran the meeting, I spent my energy observing my suspects. Dak and Ted both seemed completely at ease. To be fair, a lot of the meeting focused on promo, so the insurance agent was basking in a l
ot of goodwill.

  It took an hour to get through the agenda. By the time Jack asked if there was any other new business, nobody had tipped their hand. Ted was busy on his phone while Dak munched away at a healthy serving of nachos.

  “If there’s no further business, I’ll bring the meeting to a close. Thank you all for coming. And thanks to Allie for bringing the Valerie Briggs Memorial suggestion to us,” Jack said.

  The scraping of a few chairs was my signal. Jack had served up my next move. There was no time to waste.

  “Speaking of Valerie, can you give us an update on the investigation, Chief?”

  In the blink of an eye, the room became as silent as a graveyard at midnight. All heads turned toward Matt.

  He took a drink of water, then looked at Angela. At her nod, he cleared his throat and got to his feet.

  Was it unfair to put the man on the spot like this? Probably. This was one of those moments when it was better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission, though. Besides, he, and Angela for that matter, hadn’t even given me the chance to help them find Valerie’s murderer.

  Connie had come to me for help. In answering her call, I was trying to be part of the solution. If Matt wanted to be angry with me, so be it. There were more important issues at play than bruised egos and hurt feelings.

  Like apprehending a murderer who was sitting here among us.

  “As I’m sure you can all appreciate, since this is an ongoing investigation, I can’t comment about any details. I can tell you we’re exploring a number of leads and are looking forward to solving this case as soon as possible.”

  Kim raised her hand. “There are conflicting reports regarding Ronald Spade’s visit to the station this past weekend. Can you clarify whether he’s a suspect?”

  “Like I said, I can’t comment about specifics other than to say he was asked to come to the station as a person of interest.”

  “Do you have any suspects?” A bland nonanswer wasn’t going to deter the reporter. Rushing Creek was fortunate to have Kim Frye.

  Matt opened his mouth but was cut off by Connie.

  “When are you going to arrest someone for my daughter’s murder?”