Fatal Fall

by Diane Capri

  She ordered black coffee. He requested yogurt, toast, and coffee.

  Jess grinned. “No doughnuts?”

  “Not since I left Philly.” He patted his flat stomach. “I’m an outdoorsman these days.”

  “You moved here for your health?”

  He shrugged. “Wife’s from the Seattle area. But I have to admit, life’s better here.”

  “You don’t miss it? The excitement of the big city?”

  He shook his head. “The work here’s mostly figuring out why someone did something stupid, not looking at the human wreckage of violent crime.”

  Jess nodded. “Police work isn’t always the excitement they show on television.”

  “And after we catch them, half the time they get off through some legal fine point. Or witness intimidation.” He paused for a level stare. “I saw plenty of that.”

  The coffee arrived. Steaming, hot, fresh. Jess inhaled the aroma.

  He spooned three sugars into his cup. “I gave up doughnuts. Can’t give up everything.”

  She poured a spoonful of sugar into her own cup.

  “How did you hear about this boy?” Nelson asked.

  “I got a call. My son’s name is Peter. He’s the same age. This boy didn’t seem to have any parents. No one knew who he was.” She shrugged as if those facts were enough to justify her headlong dash to Randolph.

  He wasn’t fooled. “And you live in Denver, work for Taboo Magazine, and show up in a matter of hours?”

  “I have some people looking out for my son. We check out every lead.”

  “Oh?”

  She gave him a flat smile. “I’m not some obsessive nutcase that’s going to manipulate the situation just because he has the same first name as my missing son.”

  He raised his cup. “Glad to hear it. I mean, places like this, people get obsessed over the smallest things.”

  “I thought you said nothing much happened around here.”

  “You back to being a reporter now?”

  “Seems like I don’t have anything else to do.” Her coffee had cooled. The sugar was a bad idea. “I don’t even know your name.”

  He patted the tag on his chest. J. Nelson.

  “Your first name,” she said.

  “Not many people want to know a cop’s first name.”

  “I’m a reporter,” she teased with a grin.

  He grunted, but he smiled, too. “Joshua.”

  “Joshua Nelson,” she said. “Has a nice ring to it.”

  “I prefer Nelson.”

  She nodded. “Right. If I can find something worth reporting on in this town, you’ll be identified as Officer J. Nelson. How’s that?”

  “Captain J. Nelson.”

  She grimaced. “Sorry, I should have known that.”

  He waved it away. “Nothing worth reporting on in this town anyway. Local paper struggles to find enough to fill a dozen pages. Including the used car ads and the grocery store sales.”

  “I guess the boy’s accident will make it onto the front page.”

  “Well…”

  “What?” she said.

  He shrugged.

  She leaned forward. “Oh, come on. You know denial just revs up my interest.”

  The waitress returned with Nelson’s food and topped off his coffee. Jess had barely touched hers.

  When they were alone again, Jess stared at him. “What’s the secret?”

  He took a mouthful of yogurt. “There’s no secret. Nothing special really. You said local. But he’s not from around here.”

  Jess frowned.

  “We found a bus ticket in his pocket. He’s from Bamford.”

  “Which is?”

  “Thirty miles south of here.” Nelson dug into his yogurt again.

  Jess leaned back. “He came thirty miles to climb a tree?”

  “Kids have done stranger things,” he said.

  “It must have been really early in the morning when he left home.”

  “He was found at eight. The docs think he fell an hour or so earlier.” Nelson finished the yogurt and licked the spoon. “We’re talking to the bus drivers trying to figure that out now.”

  “So if he fell around seven, and the bus takes, say, forty-five minutes, he left home around six. Isn’t that pretty early?”

  Nelson worked his way through a slice of toast. “Middle school starts at seven-fifty. He could be in the band or athletics. They practice early.”

  “But he skipped school and came here instead.” She swallowed a sip of the now cold and sickly sweet coffee.

  Her Peter had been taken long before they had developed a school routine. She’d never dressed him for classes or packed his lunch or waited outside for the school bus.

  “You okay?” Nelson said, between mouthfuls.

  She took a deep breath. “Sure. Fine.”

  He stopped eating. “Kids skip school to do a lot of weird things.”

  “But thirty miles to climb a tree?” She bit her lip. “Is there something special about that tree?”

  Nelson spread jelly on his last piece of toast. “Just a tree.”

  “Doesn’t make sense, does it?”

  “Why are you trying to make this something more than it is? Kids fall out of trees all the time.” He leaned forward. “I know you’re worried that he might be your son, but frankly it’s far more likely that his parents are at work and won’t know he’s hurt until tonight.”

  She pursed her lips.

  “I searched the area where he fell with two of my officers. He was off to the side of a path and down a ways through some woods. There were broken branches around the area where we found him. He climbed a tree, and the branch, limb, or whatever he was on, broke. Not mysterious. Nothing complicated. An unfortunate accident. That’s all.”

  “Can I see the place?”

  He finished his toast and used his radio to call the station. Charlene told him nothing was happening and he had no appointments. He signed off with a thank you.

  He sighed. “Looks like I’m free.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jess took her own car, and followed Nelson’s cruiser to the shoulder on the side of a narrow road, not far outside of town. The air was crisp, and the ground soft with a thick layer of branches and rotting leaves. She followed him toward the scene of the accident.

  She’d donned ballet flats before she left home, but as they worked their way up an embankment, she began to wish she’d worn boots. She’d also grabbed her bag out of habit, and it was already starting to feel like lugging a suitcase.

  “He climbed up this hill?” Her voice was slightly breathless.

  Nelson shook his head and pointed back along the road. “This path starts closer to town. It winds around some. We took a short cut because there’s an opening in the trees here we can walk through.”

  “Did he? Take the short cut?” She struggled to keep up with him.

  Nelson shrugged. “No way of knowing. Unless he wakes up, so we can ask him.”

  Jess felt the cold air wrap around her. “He’s still unconscious?”

  “Medically-induced coma. They say it’s better for him that way.”

  The air tightened its grip on Jess’s throat. Whether he was her son or not, she wanted him to recover soon.

  They’d reached a pathway that ran parallel to a substantial steel fence topped with three rows of barbed wire. Both extended ahead as far as she could see. “That’s quite a fence.”

  “Meisner’s,” Nelson said as if that explained everything.

  He pointed to the right. “That way back to town.” He turned to the left. “The boy was found over here.”

  As they walked, the trees thinned out. Beyond the fence was a gradual incline that continued to a flat peak about half a mile away. In the center of the flat area was a large white mansion. Surrounding it was a broad gravel driveway of the type that once signified wealth and power because of the cost of maintaining it.

  The mansion had three stories and dozens
of windows. It was Georgian in style, a very formal geometry, complete with white Doric columns across the front. There appeared to be some sort of glass structure on the roof, but the mansion’s height concealed all but the very top.

  Two figures on horseback rode up the far side of the hill. They rounded the house and disappeared from view.

  “Nice house,” she said.

  Nelson looked up the hill without breaking his pace. “Meisner’s place.”

  “Meisner’s fence, Meisner’s place. Does he own everything around here?”

  Nelson looked left and right. “Pretty much.”

  Further on, the woods grew thicker, and the trail turned inward. Jess could see nothing but trees. They had to crouch and crawl through some places. Nelson held back branches, handing them off to Jess before they flicked in her face.

  They passed a fallen fence post, the wires still attached, but the post leaned drunkenly toward the land it was supposed to protect, its barbed wire close to the ground.

  The trail widened again a few feet farther on, and Nelson stopped in a clearing.

  From here, Jess could see the mansion, but the blanket of gray sky was concealed by a mesh of branches. The dim light in the opening took on a green tinge.

  “That’s where he fell.” Nelson pointed to a thick old tree and patch of ground where the undergrowth had been trampled down.

  Pathways were worn through the weeds, lines where medics had brought in a stretcher, where police had examined the scene. A thick tree limb had been cast aside, the milky-yellow grain of its cross section evidenced a recent break. Several pieces of white debris lay in a pile. Medical wound dressing wrappers hastily discarded by the paramedics.

  Nelson picked up the trash and stuffed it into his pocket. “He was in a bad way.”

  Jess looked up. The tree was tall. A long way up, the same milky-yellow grain was visible on the thick old tree. A circular patch and long gash down the trunk lit starkly in the dim light of the woods. The break had torn the bark downward along a three-foot section of the tree.

  “Forty feet up,” Nelson said, pointing toward the circular patch where the branch should have been.

  Jess whistled as she looked up the tree. It was older and taller than the others in the immediate vicinity. Maybe a tempting challenge for a young boy. A badge of honor. One that had come with a price.

  “Four stories is a long way to fall. What were his injuries?”

  “Broken bones in his shoulder, right arm, and right leg. Those should all heal.” Nelson looked up the tree again. “The head injury is the critical one. The docs are worried about it more than the others.”

  Jess pursed her lips. She inhaled deeply. “That’s a lot of injuries. Even for a fall from that distance.”

  “But…” Nelson stepped to the edge of the path and pushed the vegetation back with his boot to expose a rock with a dark stain on it. “He was pretty unlucky.”

  “His head hit that rock?”

  Nelson nodded. “I’m pretty certain it was that one.” He lifted his boot away and the weeds sprang back into place.

  She gestured to the undergrowth. “Can I touch things?”

  Nelson shrugged. “This was an unfortunate accident. Not a crime scene.”

  Jess kneeled and inspected the rock. It had lain on the ground for maybe eight hours since the boy’s fall, but the vegetation shielded it from the weather. The stain was large and spread out in inky rivulets. She used her phone to snap a few pictures of the rock and its immediate surroundings.

  She eased the rock from the mud and held it up. It was irregularly shaped and maybe three or four pounds. With more daylight, the stains revealed themselves. Peter’s blood.

  She held the underside of the rock. “You mind if I take this?”

  Nelson hummed. “Presumably you’re thinking DNA?”

  She nodded. “Seems obvious.”

  He took a deep breath. “Like I said, it’s not a crime scene, so I guess that’s okay. But Meisner won’t like it if he finds out.”

  “Why? It’s just a rock. Is he that possessive of everything on his land?” She pulled a big sheet of paper out of her bag and wrapped the rock in it and placed it carefully inside. “If he squawks, tell him I’ll pay for the rock.”

  Nelson shrugged.

  Jess looked up at the scarred tree and back at the depressed soil where she’d removed the rock. “Seems like more than a little unlucky, doesn’t it?”

  “Under the circumstances, he was lucky his injuries weren’t worse.” Nelson shook his head. “These rocks are all over this area.” He pointed to the flattened undergrowth. “There are several bigger, sharper rocks in that area. If he’d hit his head on one of those, he’d be gone for sure.”

  Jess stepped off the path. She bent down, eyeing the flattened weeds. They radiated in strange directions, twisting and turning. The result of the medical team’s rescue efforts, most likely. She lifted sections of the greenery until she found a rock. It was deep brown. Long buried in the earth. She found another, equally brown, equally buried. She held back the grass. “Why are all of these rocks here? This area isn’t particularly rocky anywhere else.”

  “Fieldstone. They were trucked in.” Nelson waved his arm up and down the trail. “Used to be a rock wall along here.”

  Jess stood and looked along the path. She looked back the way they had come. “How long ago? I mean, there’s no sign of a wall or anything.”

  “Fourteen years ago,” said a voice behind her.

  Jess turned to see a stout middle-aged man approaching with a noticeably younger woman close behind him. She was stylishly dressed, and he looked faintly ridiculous in the same garb. Riding hat, tweed jacket, and tight riding breeches that clung to her shapely legs and his thick ones. He waved a riding whip back and forth along the trail. “Used to run along here until a bunch of criminals decided to invade my property and knock it down.”

  Jess nodded. She didn’t recognize him, but she knew who he must be. “This is your land?”

  “Knocked it down,” he repeated, glaring at Nelson. “Bunch of them labored all night to destroy my expensive fieldstone wall. Criminals. Never caught.”

  Nelson took a deep breath. “This is Mr. and Mrs. Meisner.”

  The man flashed a grim smile. “Senator and Mrs. Meisner.”

  Nelson nodded. “Yes, Senator and Mrs. Meisner.”

  Meisner stepped past Jess and looked at the flattened weeds. “Is this where it happened?”

  Nelson nodded again. “Where the boy fell? Yes.”

  Meisner grunted. “A shame.”

  “To say the least,” Jess said.

  Meisner looked at Nelson. “They say he’s in a bad way.”

  Nelson nodded. “Very.”

  Meisner looked back at the trampled undergrowth.

  “Do you know what he was doing here?” Jess asked.

  Meisner scowled in her general direction. “How would I know what he was doing here?”

  Before Jess could respond, his wife touched his arm.

  Mrs. Meisner shook her head. “Terribly sad for the child and his family, of course.” Her voice was husky. Sexy.

  His expression changed immediately. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be uncaring. I’m concerned for the boy’s welfare, naturally. What human being wouldn’t be?”

  Jess clamped her jaw shut.

  “Are you the mother?” Mrs. Meisner asked.

  Jess shook her head. No reason to complicate this conversation right now.

  “Related?” The senator asked.

  Jess shook her head again.

  “I have no idea what the boy was doing climbing trees on my property.” Meisner shrugged. His phony concern disappeared as quickly as it arrived. “What did you say your name was?”

  “I didn’t.” She held out her hand. “Jessica Kimball.”

  He gripped her hand. His palm was soft and his fingers fleshy. His gaze crossed her face. She felt his gaze linger on her curls and her mouth. She relaxed
her fingers, finishing the handshake. He held on a fraction too long. Easing his grip from her knuckles, sliding his fingers over hers as he released her hand. She resisted the temptation to wipe her palm on her jeans.

  Mrs. Meisner was wearing gloves, and she didn’t remove them or offer her own handshake.

  Jess gestured to the woods. “This is your land?”

  He pointed to the left. “All the way to the road.”

  Nelson took a step closer. “But the trail is a public right of way, Senator.”

  “Yes, we mustn’t forget that, must we?” Meisner sniffed. “It is, however, as the lady said, my land.” He kicked at a rock buried in the vegetation. “As was the fieldstone wall I paid for.”

  “That was long before my time,” Nelson said.

  “And now, thanks to some bunch of do-good lawyers, I’m going to have to move the fence I paid for to replace the fieldstone. Does that seem right to you?”

  “It was all settled in court,” Nelson said.

  Meisner grunted.

  The horses on the other side of the fence whinnied. Mrs. Meisner touched her husband’s arm again. “Alistaire?”

  Meisner stared at Jess and Nelson another moment.

  “Yes, Margot, we must go. There’s no problem here that we need to deal with.” He looked at Nelson. “I am correct, aren’t I? There is no problem?”

  “That’s right.” Nelson lowered his head a fraction. “No problem.”

  Meisner made a circular motion with his hand. “No more trampling over my property?”

  Nelson shook his head. “Just paperwork at this point.”

  Meisner looked sideways at Jess. “Good. Glad to hear it.” He nodded. “If you’ll excuse us, the horses are waiting. Keep me informed, Joshua.”

  He gestured toward his wife who walked off ahead of him. A moment later, Meisner disappeared beyond the trees.

  “He’s a charmer, isn’t he?” Jess said, curling her upper lip.

  Nelson nodded. “And rumor has it that he’s making a run for the White House next election.”