by Sharon Hays
Martin stuck his head out from the room upstairs. “Hey, I’ll be right down. Almost done here. Tell Al to get started.”
“I already did. Take your time.” Martin ducked back inside the room. Martin started down the staircase, when his foot broke right through a broken stair, and sent him tumbling down the rest of the way. Yelling profanities, he grabbed his leg. The pain was unbearable. “I think I broke my friggin’ leg!”
Jack came running, and Dave followed suit. “Hey, watch those stairs; Martin just fell. Call an ambulance, please! What the hell?” Frustrated, Jack called the team into the main room. “When Al’s done with the locks, we’re leaving. I think we have done all we can do for today. I’ll get someone over here to fix the stairs and hopefully get these lights on! Meanwhile we’ll get the evidence processed and go from there.”
21
Mario stepped out of his shower, glad to be home. Feeling strong and motivated, he got dressed and left the house. Maryanne had been on his mind since he was released from the hospital. His gut told him he should return to the Valencia. His sporty Dodge Ram was waiting’ in the driveway. He was anxious to feel the power of its rumbling engine beneath him. It seemed to be welcoming him home, he thought as he settled back into the familiar bucket seat. He turned the key, and it started up, first try. Smiling to himself, he backed out slowly. The Hemi was rumbling and ready. He headed down the street toward Valencia Lane to take a quick look at the Manor, but had already convinced himself not to go inside until he spoke to the chief.
There it stood like a rose in a thorn bush, the Valencia Manor, where he had been found just weeks ago, hanging like a puppet on a string. Then while he was confined to the hospital, Maryanne suddenly disappeared with no explanation. He slowly edged along the curb, stopped, and fixed his gaze on the massive edifice.
Looking up, eyes fixed and engine running, he tried to bring back bits and pieces of his unfortunate experience. He had to unlock the ghastly memories in order to solve the mysterious events that had taken place since he was left to die in that aberrant room. Flashing memories revealed the uncanny atmosphere and fleeting memories of something almost too horrible to imagine. He began recalling bits and pieces of his night of terror, remembering the putrid smell and strong, forceful grip of calloused hands with claws scratching at his flesh. The next thing he remembered was waking up in the hospital. How that monster had managed to tie him up and pitch him over the balcony was all but gone from his memory. He knew whoever had done it had to be physically powerful and agile, or just plain lucky.
Releasing his focus from uncanny to reality, he left the Manor and headed for Sally’s Diner, where he knew he could count on a tasty, filling breakfast, which he was in serious need of. His appetite was definitely not what it used to be before he was attacked. He had lost several pounds while in the hospital, but his appetite was increasing, and he was famished. He planned a daily workout to gain back the muscle he had lost while he lay around in that grim hospital room with nothing to do but read and watch TV. He was happy to be back and fortunate to be alive. Mario knew he had a lot to be thankful for. The most important matter at hand right now was finding Maryanne, as soon as possible.
As Mario climbed out of his truck, Officer Tratnik honked and waved as he passed by in his squad car. Acknowledging Steve with a quick hand in the air, he pushed open the glass door to Sally’s Diner, taking in the smell of bacon and eggs, his stomach waiting impatiently. “Hi, Sally! I missed you and your awesome breakfasts, so this had to be my first stop. Make me drool. You know what I like,” he quipped. “By the way, thanks for the cookies! Kind of you to think of me.”
Sally, the manager, was a short, blonde-haired woman with round cheeks and a captivating smile. The patrons loved her cheery disposition. Sally’s was well known in the area and constantly busy. “Mario, we are so glad you’re out of the hospital. My pleasure, certainly. You’re lookin’ great. How you feeling?”
“Better than ever and dying to go back to work. I want my usual. You know what I’m talkin’ about!” He took a seat at the counter, and she placed a cup of strong coffee down in front of him.
“This is by far the best coffee in Boulder, Sally. No contest.” He offered her a toast, holding the mug up, and took a sip of the black gold, as he referred to it.
Mario spoke to a few of his acquaintances, and a young, dark-haired server gave him a quick hug, welcoming him back. Officer Sparks walked in and took a seat at the counter next to him. “Hello, Mario. Good to see you. You’re looking well. How’s it going?”
“I’m doing very well, thanks Jack. Glad to breathe the fresh air away from that hospital, for sure. I am taking it easy for a while, hopefully not too long. Anxious to get back to work again.”
“Glad you’re coming back soon. We miss you down at the station.”
Sally placed the hot plate of bacon, eggs, and hash browns in front of him, and though he was hungry, he felt a little queasy, still worrying about Maryanne. He knew he had to keep up his strength and had a lot of work to do. He managed to eat almost all the breakfast and drank another cup of coffee. Sally topped off the coffee as he pushed the plates away… “I love it when my customers walk out satisfied. That’s all one can hope for.” She gave him a pat on the shoulder and went back to the kitchen. Mario finished his coffee and took out a ten-dollar bill, put it on the counter, and left the restaurant… He was off to the station and a call came in from Chief Olson.
“Ramos. Got some news. Montrose and Jackson just busted the so-called cult that was responsible for the strange drawings on the walls at Valencia. It was a bunch of teen agers, trying to be bad-asses. We have them in custody and that takes care of one question. However not the questions we need. We’ll see what else we can get out of them and I’ll keep you informed. I don’t think this is going to help us any in the kidnapping, though from the sounds of it.”
“At least we can eliminate something. Now if everything else was that easy, it would be a piece of cake,” he jested. “I’ll be around, call if you need me, Chief.” Mario went directly to the station to check in and find out what the team had found on the last search of Valencia. Even though he couldn’t start work immediately, he would continue to do whatever he could to brush up on anything pertaining to the case at hand. His main reason was to find out as much as he could about Maryanne’s disappearance, without letting them know he was going to actually try to help find her. He would casually stop in and say hello to the guys, so it was a good excuse to make contact with the officers and check on Maryanne’s case. His parking spot was waiting for him as he edged in between Steve’s and Corolla’s. He looked around, stretching his arms, and realized how stiff he had become, lying around for so long. Exercise was what he needed most. He was anxious to get back to work.
“Well, if it isn’t our long lost friend. It’s good to see you in the standing position!” Chief Olson reached for his hand, laughing. Officer Jackson and Pantella followed suit with strong handshakes. “Glad to have you back, man,” Pantella commented.
“Not so fast, Pantella, he’s only visiting today.” Chief Olson chuckled.
“Yeah, I wish I were back today.” Mario walked around the station, observing and taking in the daily operations of his fellow officers. After half an hour of chatting, observing, and catching up, he stepped into the chief’s office to get details of what the men were calling “the O’Donnell case.” When he was brought up to date, he departed the station, anxious to return in the morning, as a working detective.
On the way home, as he was passing by Joan’s office, he noticed her car in the parking lot and stopped to check in. “Hello Joan! I’m back.”
Joan was happy to see him and glad that he looked so well. “Mario!” She gave him a warm hug, looking him up and down, grinning. “You look pretty good for a guy who was hung out to dry not so long ago. When did they let you out?”
“Yesterday. I’m so glad to be out of there, and I feel a hellova lot better. I was going
by, saw your car, and decided to stop.
“Got time to sit for a cup of java? Just made it.”
“Actually, I just had breakfast at Sally’s Diner, and drank a few cups already. I want to be able to sleep tonight, you know. I have to do some other errands. Just checking in on you. How’ve you been? I mean with Maryanne missing and all. I know how close you two have been for years.”
“I’m doing well. Well as can be expected, anyway. I just hope they find her soon. This whole thing with the Valencia Manor and all has been a literal nightmare from the time I took the listing. Wish I had never taken it on. It was my idea for Maryanne to look at the house, and I thought it would be a great investment. Now look at all the hell it caused!”
“Joan, if you hadn’t listed it or told her, someone else would have listed it, and she would have gone there anyway. She told me she always loved that old house, even before it was for sale, so don’t feel any guilt at all. You are her best and most loyal friend. We’re going to find her. I’ll make sure of it. I’m back and ready to work. I got some information today at the station and will be working behind the scenes until Monday, then back full time.”
Mario gave her another hug. “Got to go, Joan. I’ll keep in touch. How about a rain-check on the coffee?”
“You got it, the coffee is always on. I have faith in you, Mario. You’re a good cop. I know if anyone can find Maryanne, it will be you.”
“I really have to go, Joan. There’s so much to catch up on, but you know where my priorities are. promise, we’ll find her soon, and she’ll be fine. My gut is telling me she’s closer than we think.” With that, Mario sped off in the direction of the police department.
22
Chief Mark Olson took a bite of his egg salad sandwich and raised the hot cup of coffee to his lips. The out-of-date office phone buzzed. “Chief Olson here,” he answered, gulping down a mouthful of coffee.
“Chief, come in here. We got a call from the Lyons City sheriff. Sounds bad.” It was Officer Tratnik, and he sounded unusually stressed.
“Be right there!” He threw away what was left of his coffee, threw away what was left of his sandwich, and stepped into Tratnik’s office.
“Chief, that call was from Sheriff Sam Baxter. He says Mrs. Dirkshire is dead. Wanted to give you a heads up. The Sheriff said he thinks it’s a burglary gone wrong. They got a call from A and A Security, and by the time they arrived, it was too late. The perpetrator obviously hit her or pushed her against the table. She was dead when they found her. Big gash in her head. The officers were there a few minutes after the alarm went off, but whoever went in there knew what they were after and got out quick. We aren’t sure what they took, yet. The guys are combing the house right now. Sheriff Baxter will keep you informed on the evidence and progress. Told me to tell you.”
“I’m gonna take a run over there, right now, Steve. Wanna ride along?” Chief took his gun from his desk, and started toward the door.
“Sure, I’ll be ready in two shakes. Have one call to make, and I’m free.” Steve made his call while Chief Olson waited in his squad car. They were off to Lyons, Colorado.
“It’s going to be interesting to see who ends up with the Valencia at this rate,” Steve commented. “First Mrs. Dirkshire’s brother John, and now her. Harold Arnold may end up with the place after all. That would be a weird turn of fate. I don’t know if she had a will drawn up, but I am assuming that she did all that.” Steve mulled over the state of affairs.
“Yes. This case gets deeper by the minute.” Chief Olson had plenty of ideas about the case, but chose not to disclose the information with Steve at this point.
About forty-five minutes later they arrived in Lyons and found Mrs. Dirkshire’s place engulfed with squad cars, an evidence van, and an ambulance. Yellow tape surrounded the perimeter of the property. They were trying their best to preserve the crime scene, and hopefully keep the press and other usual problems out of the investigation. There were at least fifteen people there, including the Boulder Radio News van.
“Doesn’t take long to get the word out when it goes out over the car radio,” Chief Olson said. “The ambulance chasers are everywhere in just a few minutes it seems. The Boulder Newspaper team is already here and waiting to put their spin on it. Wish they could wait until the investigation was finished. Hope they haven’t gone in and messed up the evidence. You know this small-town mentality. Sheriff Baxter’s pet peeve has always been the press interfering, messing things up and stirring up wrong information.”
“Let’s go inside, and see what’s happening,” Chief Olson said. “Looks like Sam Baxter over there. I know him pretty well. He’ll fill us in.” Chief Olson led the way, and Steve followed.
“Sam! I haven’t seen you face-to-face for at least a year, right?”
“Well, I’ll be darned. If it isn’t Chief Mark Olson.” He offered his handshake, grinning from ear to ear. His hair seemed a lot greyer than when Chief Olson had last seen him. This job will do it to you, he thought. “Good to see you, Sam. Wish it was under better circumstances, though. This is Officer Tratnik…Sheriff Baxter.”
Sam was an older man with grayish-white hair and a tall, muscular physique. Moustache and all, he was an impressive man, with blue-gray eyes that could look right through you. He always had a natural instinct about people and always read them very well.
“I figured you would be retired by now, Sam.”
“Not me. You know there’s nothing else here for me to do, so I’ll stay as long as they’ll keep me. I like this job, and it keeps me out of trouble. Since Ellie passed almost a year ago; I’d be lost without the job. Keeps my mind busy.”
“Sorry to hear about Ellie. I didn’t know. You have my belated condolences.”
“Thanks, Markus. I should have let you know, but sometimes life just gets away from you, and you don’t reel in all the loose ends with old friends. It’s a shame, but nonetheless true. I just sunk my teeth into the work and tried hard not to think too much. Things are a lot better now. I’m sure glad to see you, though. Mrs. Dirkshire was an incredible woman. Her brother John passed away not long ago. He was sick for quite a while. He kept her company for years after his wife passed. I liked old John, too. Just awful what happened to Mrs. Dirkshire. Many people around here are going to miss her. Such a sweet and cheerful lady any time you saw her. Sam Baxter went on.
Chief Olson was anxious to get started. “Can we go in and check out the scene? Normally I would not intrude on your case, but we have been dealing with some connections with Mrs. Dirkshire’s inheritance of the Valencia Manor. A relative of hers is a suspect in a couple of break-ins, so hopefully with your cooperation we can tie up the loose ends on an aggravated robbery and assault back in Boulder.”
Sam looked inquisitively at Chief Olson. “I heard about the break in at Bishop’s Real Estate Office, there in Boulder Yes, we can work together easily enough. Probably get this solved quicker with outside help anyway. Come on in, Markus. I’ll show you what we have.” Sam led the way, and Officer Tratnik and Chief Olson followed behind him up the stairs of the small wood-frame house. A white picket fence, periwinkle bushes, and a vegetable garden on the side surrounded it. The house needed paint, but for an old house it was in pretty good condition.
Detectives and other police officers were in and out of the house. Chief Olson noticed the news crew stayed outside the fence. He thought, At least they’re doing something right.
“We found her in here.” Sam led Chief Olson to a gory scene where Mrs. Dirkshire had been found lying in a pool of blood. “I believe she used this room for an office and craft room. From the looks of it, she grabbed the phone when the intruder broke in. Dialed 911. He broke the window in the door of the porch downstairs. She was probably in here working on her crafts as she often did. Looks like the intruder struck her on the head, and then she fell against the corner of the table.” He pointed to the carved mahogany stand. “There’s evidence of that. There’s hair and blood on the cor
ner of the table. Lots of blood here. I think it must have been her brother’s old room. There’s still a dresser and some men’s suits hanging in the closet, either her husband’s or John’s, I’m guessing. She had many hobbies other than gardening, and she had been making dried flower arrangements for the Senior Center for their Veterans Day observance. Her husband was a veteran, you know. She obviously did ceramics. You can see all the pots and figurines on the shelves. Another thing we remember her for, is her amazing pies. Every time anyone in Lyons had a death in the family, was sick, or was in an accident, she was there with her delicious, homemade pies. Very compassionate and giving woman. I don’t know who could have been this mean; to kill a woman like her. It just doesn’t make any sense. A woman everyone loved and respected. We’ll find the bastard who did this, and I hope I’m there to see him squeal.” Sam’s eyes filled with tears, and he took a handkerchief from his pocket. “Sorry Chief, she meant a lot to me.”
“I totally understand. Many people obviously loved her. You don’t find too many like her anymore, that’s for sure.” Chief Olson extended his hand in condolence. “Keep me informed as to the progress, and we’ll get this one solved quickly.” Sheriff Baxter gave him a quick nod, trying to conceal tears, and Chief Olson left the scene. As Chief Olson walked away, he turned back to Sam. “I’ll be in touch!”
Most of the way home Chief Olson was silent, thinking about the brutal attack on Mrs. Dirkshire. Officer Tratnik didn’t say anything. He knew enough about the chief to speak when spoken to and not interrupt the quiet moods he sometimes displayed.
