A Field of Poppies

by Sharon Sala

  ****

  Lillian reached the kitchen only to find it empty. The police officer frowned.

  “Where is he at?” Chandler asked.

  “Probably in his room. I’ll show you.”

  She led the way to the servants’ quarters and knocked on the first door.

  Oral answered quickly, making Lillian think he’d been waiting.

  “Yes?”

  Lillian pointed to the officer. “The police are here. They want to talk to you in the library.”

  All the color faded from Oral’s face. For a moment Lillian thought he might pass out, but he seemed to gather himself and just nodded.

  “Yes, of course,” he said.

  Lillian scurried back into the kitchen as Newton came out of his room. He gave the officer a brief nod. When Chandler’s focus momentarily shifted, Newton hit him squarely in the nose with his elbow. The cop dropped, unconscious to the world with his nose crushed against the side of his face.

  Oral rolled him over onto his side so that he wouldn’t choke to death on the blood, then headed for the library with a military-swift stride.

  By the time he reached the main hall he could hear Amelia’s voice shrill with anger, then panic. He quickened his pace. He already knew what he needed to do. No matter the cost, he would not let her suffer.

  When he strode into the room it was to see Amelia in handcuffs and begging. Rage swelled. Disgrace! Utter disgrace to treat her in such a manner. If he saved her, there wasn’t much time.

  “Let her go!”

  His voice rang out, startling everyone, including Amelia, as they turned toward the door. It was all he needed.

  “You’re not taking her anywhere!” he shouted.

  From the corner of his eye he saw three uniformed officers coming at him. His arm came up.

  Mike caught a glimpse of the weapon in Newton’s hand.

  “Gun!” he shouted, and was reaching for his own when

  Newton fired one shot into Amelia Caulfield’s head, hitting her right between the eyes. Then he swung the gun beneath his chin and pulled the trigger. He was dead before her body hit the floor.

  The silence after the gunshots was startling. It had happened so quickly. Even though parts of Amelia’s brains were on the wall where she’d been standing, Kenny knelt to check her pulse.

  “She’s dead,” he said.

  “So’s this one,” an officer said, who’d checked Newton’s pulse as well.

  “Well shit,” Mike said, looking around for the officer who should have been with him. “Somebody go look for Chandler.”

  Two of the officers took off out of the library on the run.

  Kenny eyed the two bodies. “Now that’s what I call true devotion. Save her the embarrassment of facing the world as a murderer, and save the county the cost of a trial.”

  One of the officers was back.

  “Chandler’s down.”

  Mike’s heart sank. “Call for an ambulance. Kenny, call the M.E. and tell him we’ve got two to pick up.”

  He reached for his own phone. It wasn’t supposed to have happened like this. He hit redial, then waited for Lieutenant Green to answer.

  “This is Green. Are they in custody?”

  “No sir. They’re dead. Newton came to the library with a gun. Before we could stop him, he shot her and then himself. We had an officer with Newton. Unknown to us, Newton took him out then came after her.”

  “God damn it, Amblin. This isn’t going to look good in the papers.”

  Mike thought of Poppy. “Then you give the papers the hook you want to sell. The P.D. solved the murder of Jessup Sadler. In the process of arresting the killers, one killed the other then shot himself. You can mention names at the end of the damn story, rather than at the first. A killer is a killer, no matter what the pedigree.

  Chapter Twenty

  The moment Poppy heard shots she jumped back inside the van. Her heart was pounding as she grabbed her phone and dialed John’s number. He’d been uneasy about letting her go on her own and this wasn’t going to make it better.

  “Hello? Poppy? How did it go?”

  “Justin got his mother to admit she’d sent her bodyguard to follow Daddy and kill him.”

  “Oh my God, so Dad really did go there? Why?”

  “He wanted his job back. He said if they didn’t give him his job back he was going to tell everyone Justin was my father, which in her mind was grounds for murder.”

  “Did they arrest her?”

  “I don’t know what’s happening. Everyone went inside a few minutes ago and that’s when I heard gunshots. I’m outside in the van.”

  “I’m going to come get you.”

  “No. I am hearing more sirens, which means it’s about to become a madhouse here. There are already police cars all over the place. If more are coming they wouldn’t let you get near, even if you came. I’m not in danger.”

  “I don’t like it,” John said.

  “The other police are here. I’ve got to go.”

  She disconnected before he could argue, then sat down on the floor in the far corner of the van and waited for Mike to come find her.

  ****

  Justin drove straight back to the office apartment and told his secretary, Frances, that he was not to be disturbed. His head was pounding and there was a knot in the pit of his stomach. As soon as he got inside, he called Graham Ring.

  “Hello.”

  “Graham, it’s me, Justin.”

  “Justin! How are you?”

  “I’ve been better. I want to give you a heads up about something. My mother and her driver, Oral Newton, were arrested for the murder of Jessup Sadler.”

  “What? You can’t be serious?”

  “I wish I wasn’t, but I am. She admitted it to me and the police heard it all.”

  “I’ll get down to the jail as soon as I can and let you know what’s happening. If they set bail, I’ll soon have her out.”

  Justin swallowed past the knot in his throat. “Don’t bother. Do what you have to on her account, but I’ve washed my hands of her.”

  He disconnected, then sat down on the sofa and put his head in his hands. The lump in the back of his throat was so big he couldn’t cry. This was a nightmare that kept getting worse.

  A few moments later, his cell phone rang. He started to let it go to voicemail then noticed it was from Mike Amblin.

  “What?”

  Mike sighed. “I have bad news.”

  “I don’t see how it could get any worse,” Justin snapped.

  “We sent an officer to get Newton out of his room. He took out the officer and went to the library on his own. I’m sorry, Mr. Caulfield, but he shot your mother and then himself. They’re both dead.”

  Justin inhaled sharply. The carpet pattern beneath his feet was suddenly going in and out of focus.

  “I did not see this coming.”

  “Neither did we. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you for calling.”

  He dropped the cell phone onto the sofa then leaned back and closed his eyes. He was numb. Maybe tomorrow he could cry for his mother, but not today. Today he was in mourning for Sunny and the man who’d loved her – the man who’d needed his job so badly he’d been willing to beg for it, only to die at his mother’s hand.

  She was reaping a bloody harvest of what she’d sown.

  ****

  The elegant grandeur of the Caulfield mansion had undergone a rude transformation with EMTs and crime scene techs traipsing in and out.

  Lillian was in something of a state. She kept trying to sweep up after the people coming and going while keeping track of where they went, as if she was afraid they were going to carry off the family silver. She stayed diligent right up until the two body bags were wheeled out on gurneys. Knowing Amelia and Newton were inside sent her into a decline. Kenny sent an officer to escort her to her room and told her to stay there until they were gone.

  The good news was, except f
or a broken nose and a slight concussion, the officer Newton downed was going to be alright. The EMT remarked it was fortunate for Chandler that he’d fallen onto his side or he might have drowned in his own blood before he was found.

  It was also noted that Amelia Caulfield never knew what hit her. Mike kept going through the sequence of events in his mind, trying to figure out what they’d missed. It wasn’t until Kenny showed him what had popped up on the background check they ran on Oral Newton that gave Mike the answer.

  They’d seriously underestimated the man. Not only was he ex-military, but he was ex-Green Beret. Had two meritorious combat medals from Vietnam, and done a stint in a psych ward for PTSD. Then thirty-something years ago Adam Caulfield hired him to be his wife’s bodyguard and driver. That explained his skill and his aim. It didn’t make them feel any better but it was something to add to the report.

  When the Medical Examiner finally arrived, Mike turned the crime scene over to him and headed outside to check on Poppy. He glanced at his watch and could only imagine what she’d been thinking. It had been over forty-five minutes since they’d gone inside for what was supposed to have been a simple arrest. Who the hell could have seen this coming?

  He paused as he exited the house, but didn’t see her. There were police units at the bottom of the drive and more stringing crime scene tape, but no sight of Poppy.

  He headed to the van at a lope with the sun in his eyes and a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. The day had already gone to hell and he needed her to be okay. He’d told her to stay in the van but he hadn’t expected her to comply.

  Then he opened the door and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She was sitting on the floor in the back of the van, hugging her legs with her head down on her knees.

  “Hey, Poppy.”

  Her head came up. She was pale as a ghost, but her voice was surprisingly calm.

  “What happened?”

  He stepped up in the van and headed toward her. “It didn’t go well. Newton surprised us. He shot Amelia and then himself.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Are they dead?”

  “Yes.”

  Then just as quickly, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Are you going to hide what happened or is the truth going to come out?”

  The insult was harsh and unexpected – after all they’d been through together she still didn’t trust him.

  “Hell no, we’re not hiding anything. Your father’s murder has been solved. It will be noted as such to the media and the general public.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out,” then she began to shake. “I heard the shots. I didn’t know what happened. I saw an ambulance take someone away and then they carried two more out in body bags. You didn’t come back.”

  Quiet tears suddenly slipped down her cheeks.

  Mike reached down and pulled her up into his arms. Her hands snaked around his waist and when she hid her face against his shirt, he tightened his grip. He kept telling himself that he was simply offering her comfort, but the truth was he seriously liked it.

  “I’m sorry you were scared,” he said softly.

  Poppy shuddered.

  He rested his chin on the crown of her head. “I don’t think anyone has cried for me since I was in the third grade.”

  Interested in hearing the rest of the story, she looked up, still wearing the tears she’d just shed.

  “Who cried for you then?” she asked.

  He got his handkerchief out of his pocket. It took a great deal of effort on his part not to kiss her as he began wiping her face.

  “Oh, I was running all hell-bent for leather after a line-drive during recess and fell flat on my face on the playground. Busted my nose and drove my top teeth into my bottom lip. Bled all over my best blue shirt. I was too shocked to cry, so Marilee Whitson cried for me. At least I told myself she was crying for me, but it could have been because I also bled all over the front of her dress and the teacher’s shoes, too.”

  Poppy blinked. “Are you telling me the truth or is this one of those stories cops make up to get people out of hysterics?”

  Mike frowned. “You watch too many cop shows on TV. Yes, it’s the truth and I have the scar to prove it.”

  He put the handkerchief back in his pocket then showed her the tiny, thin white scar on the inside of his lower lip.

  She nodded. “I see it.” When she suddenly realized how close they were and how blue his eyes were, she quickly stepped back. “Thank you,” she added, swiping at her cheeks in sudden embarrassment, as if he might have missed some tears.

  “You’re welcome. I can’t leave yet to take you home. Do you want to call your brother? I’ll make sure they let him pass.”

  Her fingers curled into fists. “Yes. I want to go home.”

  Mike nodded. “Then you call him and I’ll let the officers know to let him pass.”

  “One more thing.”

  “What is it, Poppy?”

  “I guess you called Justin... I mean, about what happened in there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he... did he... I mean-“

  “He didn’t say much, but if I was guessing, I’d say today is probably one of the worst days of his life.”

  Poppy chose to ignore the tiny spurt of empathy. “I was just wondering,” she said, and then looked around for her purse. “I need to call Johnny.”

  “And I’ll let the officers know he’s coming after you.” He frowned at the expression on her face and then added. “You had nothing to do with what happened anymore than Justin did. Both of you were collateral damage to other people’s choices, okay?”

  ****

  Justin spent the night at Callie’s bedside watching her sleep. He didn’t know how to tell her what had happened, but he would have to before he left. It would be all over the news. People were going to talk. She was fourteen years old – too old to hide the truth about something as horrific as this.

  He’d hired a private investigator to locate Wade Lee Tiller, and made a mental note to call Truman Epperson at the Edison Funeral home tomorrow.

  There was an old saying running through his head that he couldn’t shake. He couldn’t remember exactly how it went, but he remembered part of the last line - ‘... and miles to go before I sleep’.

  That’s how he felt. Maybe there were too many miles between him and rest. The way his heart ached, he might never rest again.

  ****

  It was midnight and Poppy had yet to go to bed. The television was on, but muted. The bowl of popcorn she and Johnny had shared was in the floor near her feet with a few un-popped kernels and two empty Pepsi cans stacked inside. The curtains were closed. The house was locked tight, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling she was standing naked in the world, and when the sun came up tomorrow, everyone would see.

  Tomorrow, the news as to who killed Jessup Sadler would spread like wildfire, and it wouldn’t take long for the reason why to follow.

  Johnny kept telling her it didn’t matter, that they would always be family – that she was his sister now and forever. But she knew there would be others from Coal Town who would disagree - who would suddenly see her as the bastard child of a rich man. They’d be expecting her to start flashing money and moving away from where she’d grown up, maybe even assume she would quit her job and move across the bridge to the north side of the city. She was so afraid to face tomorrow for fear what it might bring. She hadn’t just lost her parents in this ordeal, she was losing her identity, as well.

  And then there was Mike Amblin. This morning he’d been the cop still working her daddy’s case, up until that moment in the van. The moment when they’d all heard Justin throw his mother’s words back in her face - calling Sunny a cur who should have been tied up in a sack and thrown off the bridge into the river like an unwanted litter of pups. The moment when he’d reached for her hand and with a firm, but gentle grip, grounded her pain. That was the moment it hit her - remembering
how many times he’d been there for her since this ordeal had begun. The moment when she’d looked past the badge and liked what she saw.

  When the gunshots sounded at the Caulfield mansion, they were startling – even unexpected since it was supposed to be an arrest. But when he didn’t come out – and the thought crossed her mind that he could be dead just like Daddy and she would never see him again - that’s when she realized he’d gotten under her skin.

  So here she was, unable to sleep, falling for a cop who was just being kind, waiting for sunrise and the next shoe to fall.

  ****

  It was nearly midnight before Mike finished the last report and left the station. It was always a satisfying feeling when a case came together, but this one had blown up in their faces. The only good thing was that it was over. Poppy Sadler would get her car back. She and her brother could bury their father and the world would go on.

  At least that’s how it should be, but Mike knew better. When word got around – and it would – that Justin Caulfield was Poppy’s father, she would not know another moment of peace. She lived in Coal Town, but the truth about her birth father was automatically going to separate her from them, even if she didn’t move. He wished he could protect her from that heartache, but he’d just run out of reasons to keep showing up in her life.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  When Mike arrived for work the next morning, Prophet Jones was sitting on a bench outside the Caulfield police department, perched on the edge of the concrete bench with his hands folded in his lap and his head bowed in prayer.

  There was a moment when he thought about going in through a side-entrance then chided himself for being afraid to face a helpless old man and got out of the car. He walked all the way to the entrance without seeing the old man move a muscle then just as he neared the door, Prophet raised his head and looked him square in the eyes.