The Death of Alan Chandler (The Red Lake Series Book 1)

by Rich Foster

  The Chandlers have lived in Beaumont for less than two years. Neighbors reported them as quiet and keeping to themselves. However, neighbors on both sides of their house reported hearing a loud domestic disturbance the night that Mr. Chandler disappeared.

  District Attorney, Joyce Denison, held a press conference wherein she announced the arrest. Little hard information was given out, but she promised more would be forthcoming when Ms. Chandler was arraigned. At this time a body has not been recovered.”

  Charles looked again at the photo of a shackled Lilly being led into the County Jail. He had never had the acquaintance of a potential murderer. Not that he believed her to be guilty, but he found the thought tantalizing. He set the paper aside and called Lilly’s house and business, however both phones went unanswered. He then looked up the number for the Parson’s County Sheriff’s Department. A Deputy answered and transferred him to the desk clerk in lockup. From the clerk he was able to ascertain that Lilly was still in custody. The Deputy asked for his name but Charles put him off by saying he was just a friend. In that Lilly was charged with a capitol crime the Deputy made a note of the call and the number from which the call originated. He then told Charles that the prisoner could not have visitors until after the arraignment which would occur on Tuesday morning, due to the holiday.

  Charles hung up the phone and a small smile spread across his face. Lilly and her problems might be an amusing diversion for him. He decided to go to the arraignment.

  *

  The holiday passed slowly for Lilly, but far too quickly for Travis. Consequently, when he returned to the office Tuesday morning he arrived later than usual. His mind was not fully on his work as he listened to the messages on his voice mail. But hearing Lilly’s message he quickly focused. He contacted the jail to confirm she was still in custody; in fact she was in transport to the courthouse. Travis gathered his briefcase and hurried out the door. A short walk brought him to the courthouse where he checked the calendar for the court. Outside the courtroom, lawyers milled around while waiting for the court to convene. Nearby a camera crew from the local station waited patiently along with the reporter from the Beaumont Star. He made small talk with the other lawyers until the case in which they had an interest was called. “What’s with the reporters?” Travis asked.

  “It’s the broad that off-ed her husband!” said one attorney.

  “Who?” asked Travis, “Do you mean Lilly Chandler?”

  “Yeah, a nice looking broad with red hair. She’ll make for good footage on TV.”

  Another lawyer offered up the fact that the Joyce Denison herself was taking the lead on the arraignment. As they spoke, the bailiff announced the People vs. Lilly Chandler so Travis broke away and hurried into the court.

  Lilly entered wearing an orange jumpsuit and looking very much like a lamb being led to slaughter. It is difficult if not impossible to walk with dignity while wearing shackles. Lilly kept her eyes cast down on the floor in front of her. She seemed startled when the Judge spoke,

  “Does the defendant have counsel?” Lilly seemed confused. She then realized that she was the one being addressed.

  “I don’t know your Honor. I haven’t been able to reach him.”

  Travis took a chance of being out of order and irking the Judge by standing and speaking. “Your Honor I represent Ms. Chandler.”

  Lilly turned in the direction of his voice; a flood of relief crossed her face. It was consoling to have a friendly face in court, even if he was a hired friend. But then she saw Charles Blain and her face turned red with embarrassment. When she turned back toward the bench her face was a mask of guilt and shame. Not for a crime committed, but for being seen by her client in court. However, such was her mien, that had a jury been present the District Attorney would have easily obtained a conviction against her. And her appearance was not missed by the reporter’s camera.

  “Is Mr. Parks your counsel, Mrs. Chandler?”

  “Yes. Yes he is your Honor.” Lilly stammered. She found false comfort in the fact that the Judge knew her attorney by name. Lilly should have realized that everybody knew each other around the Court. It was foolish to think it might help her make bail.

  The arraignment moved quickly with the District Attorney presenting a rough outline of the evidence against her. In the back of the room the reporters scribbled notes. Joyce Dennison made certain to turn her good profile toward the camera. A few heads shook back and forth as if disappointed by her alleged but despicable behavior. By the end of the D.A.’s presentation, even Lilly, who listened as though hearing about some other women, sensed that in the news she would appear guilty. She wanted to explain, in fact tried to speak but Travis hissed for her to be quiet. The judge looked her in the eye.

  “How do you plead guilty or not guilty?”

  “Not guilty your Honor!”

  “Is that correct Ms. Chandler?”

  Embarrassed beyond words Lilly softly answered “Yes, your Honor” but her eyes remained on the floor. Travis wanted to yell at her to stop looking so guilty, but it was time to ask for bail. He pointed out that his client had a business and home in the community and was therefore not a flight risk. Joyce Dennison retorted that the defendant faced a capitol crime charge, did not have long standing in the community and that in fact the house in question was heavily mortgaged. This small reference set the reporters pencils wagging. It offered the prospect of money being the motive behind the killing. Money, sex and revenge were the big three motives for most crimes. The reporters were looking for the story’s hook. Already in their minds it was indeed a killing!

  The judge set bail at half a million dollars.

  Travis made arrangements to see his client in the holding area outside the courtroom. A few minutes later they were seated at a metal desk that was securely bolted to the concrete floor.

  “Can you raise bail?”

  “$500,000, are you kidding? I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “You only need ten percent for a bail bonds man.”

  “Where would I get fifty thousand dollars?” Lilly answered in disbelief.

  “Our house is mortgaged to the hilt.”

  “What about family or friends?”

  “My parents are dead, and I haven’t lived here long enough to have close friends.”

  “What about bonds, or stocks?”

  “We’re almost broke!” she said in bitter despair. “Alan’s gone and I can’t make money in jail, how am I supposed to make bail? I’m stuck here for the duration!”

  Travis was quickly reassessing the wisdom of having taken on this client. He hadn’t realized that the well was dry. Sure she was attractive but that did not pay the bills. His thoughts turned to extricating himself from a case, which didn’t offer remuneration.

  “Well let me see what I can do.” he demurred. “By the way I will need at least a five thousand dollar retainer for a murder trial.”

  Lilly realized this was tantamount to his saying, “You need to go get a public defender.” An awkward silence fell on the room. Travis shifted uneasily.

  “Well, I’d best be going.” he said and turned and knocked on the door. The guard opened the door. Travis looked back at Lilly as though ready to speak, but then turned and silently walked away. Both knew there was nothing left to say.

  *

  Maddox had a note on his desk about Lilly Chandler. Someone had inquired at the jail about her the day before. The number from which the caller had dialed was attached. Maddox ran the number through the reverse listing and quickly came up with Charles Blain’s name and address.

  A short while later Blain’s name came up again. Maddox received a call just after lunch from a deputy that worked the jail.

  “Someone’s posting Chandler’s bail. I thought you’d like to know.”

  “Who is it?”

  “I’m not sure I didn’t talk to him.”

  “Is he about forty-five, tall, graying hair, and he reeks of money.”

  “Y
eah, how’d you know? The guy posted five-hundred grand in bearer bonds, no bail bondsman involved!”

  “See if you can delay her release for half an hour. I want to get a couple men in place. I’d like to know where they go and what they do when they leave there.”

  “All right, I’ll speak to Dodds. We can blame the delay on the property room. Just make sure you’re ready to go A.S.A.P. This guy looks like he has the money to be impatient.”

  Maddox hung up and called Lane and Delaney to his office. He sent Lane out to the jail to follow whatever car Lilly and Blain left in. Delaney was told to wait closer to town. Maddox doubted they would head away from town and he wanted Delaney and Lane to be able to switch places to avoid being spotted.

  But his plans were to be thwarted.

  Lilly and Charles left the back of the Parson’s County Jail riding in his Mercedes Coupe. Lilly was tired and drawn.

  “I don’t know what to say. This is so embarrassing.”

  “How about thank you?”

  “Why did you do this?”

  “Well it seems your husband has either met with misadventure or he has staged this.”

  “Or I killed him?”

  “Yes that is a possibility but I don’t think you are the type.”

  “But you don’t really know me do you? What do I owe you?”

  “Nothing! If you don’t run I get my half million in bonds back.

  The sedan swept smoothly and silently along toward the edge of town. Classical music floated in the air. Charles glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She was very attractive despite her being tired. Her head tilted back against the headrest her eyes closed.

  “Where would you care to go?”

  “Home! I want a shower in my own bath!”

  Lane had followed Blain’s gray Mercedes as it left the parking lot. He had followed along until town. As they approached Delaney’s parked car, Lane flashed his headlights and turned off. Charles, who happened to be looking in his rear view mirror, noticed as Delaney’s car swung in line behind them. It seemed odd, so he thought he would try a little cat and mouse. Rather than going straight he turned right and then left at the next corner, so he was paralleling the original street. Sure enough the beige sedan was back there. He pulled into a gas station and filled the tank. The beige car had glided on by and was not in sight, but as he pulled out he was fairly certain that the white compact was the same as the one that had flashed its lights. So the police were interested in where Lilly went, he thought and a faint smile creased his lips.

  With Lilly giving directions, they soon came to Warren Court. Charles turned into the street. As they came around the curve, Lilly suddenly slid to the floor.

  “Keep going, please!” she cried.

  Charles hadn’t noticed the Channel 13 van parked by the curb. He now carefully kept his eyes straight ahead. They immediately came to the cul-de-sac at the end of the street, but they were out of sight of the news van.

  “Obviously, someone tipped the press you made bail. Where to now?”

  “Take me to one of those cheap motels along the highway, please.”

  After waiting for a couple minutes, Charles turned the car around and drove back up the street. The beige sedan was parked a few doors behind the news van.

  Charles saw the man in the car try to duck down as the Mercedes passed. At the corner, as he waited to turn left, he saw the beige sedan pull a quick u-turn to follow. Lilly came up from the floor of the car and leaned back. She let out a weary sigh, her eyes closed.

  “God, I’m tired of this,” she sighed”

  Charles said nothing while he dexterously handled the car. Soon, Lilly drifted off to sleep. They crossed town and when he came to the highway with roadside motels, he continued past them without slowing. Charles saw the beige car two cars back as he crossed the river. It pulled off onto the shoulder as he turned in between the stone columns of his own drive. Lilly stirred as the tires scrunched on the gravel of the motor court. She looked up at the house dreamy eyed and then with a startled look on her face.

  “What are we doing here?” she asked.

  “I thought it might be nicer than a “cheap” motel. You seem to be in a bit of a pinch, and with no luggage what will they think at a roadside motel? Besides, we have all the amenities and my butler can provide you excellent room service.”

  Without waiting for an answer Charles exited the car and came around and held Lilly’s door open for her. Peeking in he said, “It’s quite safe you know. You owe me nothing!”

  Yet, Lilly still wondered if he thought she had been bought with the bail money. However, she was not sure if she cared. The thought of quiet luxury far from jails and bills was enticing. With a shrug she stepped out of the car and was escorted up to Blain’s front door.

  When Charles and Lilly pulled in at the gates of his estate, Delaney had pulled off onto the shoulder of the road. He had radioed in and Maddox had told him to stay put. So after turning around he found a niche in which to park his ca. He picked up a telephoto camera and ambled down the road toward the bridge.

  The river was a slow lazy flow here. In town where it merged with a tributary it became more substantial. From the far side of the bridge Delaney found he could see the second story at the back of the house. By working his way upstream fifty feet he found a comfortable spot in the bushes from which he viewed the whole terrace. Visually he swept the deck by using the telephoto lens. Blain was sitting in a lounger drinking something. Lilly wasn’t in sight. He panned across the balcony windows of the second story but they revealed nothing.

  A half hour later, Delaney was feeling stiff and wishing he had a cup of coffee. The sunlight glinted on the glass of an upstairs French door as it swung open and Lilly stepped out onto the balcony. Her head was wrapped in a towel turban and she wore a white robe. She stretched in the sun and then leaned across the ornamental iron railing and spoke to Charles below. Delaney was unable to hear the conversation but he could see Charles pull his sunglasses off and look up. He pulled out his camera and the shutter steadily clicked.

  “Thank you, that was marvelous.”

  “You’re welcome,” replied Charles, looking up.

  Lilly smiled down at him. “You’ve never been in jail, have you?”

  “No, I never had the privilege of that experience”.

  “You don’t want it, believe me. I never knew a shower could make me feel so dirty. It was nice to take a shower where one actually feels clean afterward.”

  “That bad?”

  “Yes!” Lilly said as she burst into tears.

  She turned back inside and a few minutes later Charles went in the house. Soon they came out and stretched out on side-by-side chaise lounges.

  “What do you plan to do now?” asked Charles.

  “Find Alan and kill him if he is alive. If not, show I didn’t kill him.

  Charles smiled. “That would seem to be work for the police?”

  Lilly turned with a look of angry determination. “The police have their patsy. They love the scenario they have concocted. They won’t help me. It’s up to me!”

  “Well, we shall just be Nick and Nora, Holmes and Watson, or ……”

  “Laurel and Hardy?” said Lilly with a wan laugh.

  “We can solve this!” Charles said with certainty.

  Their conversation was lost to Delaney but when Blain reached over and patted Lilly’s arm it had the appearance of domestic tranquility.

  Later that day, Maddox thumbed through the stack of photos that Delaney had taken. Upon seeing the shot of Lilly looking down from the balcony, he muttered, “Well our Romeo seems to have found his Juliet, hasn’t he?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Alan’s beard failed to hide the gauntness of his face. He was spared seeing his own reflection but dark rings lay below his eyes and they were developing the five-mile stare that war victims often carried. His strength was failing from inadequate nourishment.

  When at last th
e fog lifted and he saw the sun, it was with the joy of seeing a long lost friend. He was determined to find his way out of the woods but he was also possessed with fear of losing the small comforts he had obtained. Life in the woods was possibly sustainable where he was and as summer neared he had a greater chance of being discovered. But hope would not suffice in survival.

  He gathered food together and set off in the direction of the waterfall he had seen. Every fifty feet he would stop and pile up stones. He tried to always keep two piles in sight behind him, this way he could retrace his steps with certainty. His anxiety of becoming more lost than he already was made for slow progress. However, the rock piles held him to a fairly steady course. The brush became thicker and his progress slowed. Finally, he was crawling on his belly and breaking branches to hold as true a course as possible. Suddenly, he broke out of the brush and found himself on a rather distinct trail. Standing up he looked one way to where it bent in the brush and then the other just as fair. He smiled to himself, realizing he was inadvertently thinking of Robert Frost. He took the trail leading toward the west, or what he assumed was more or less west. It was easy going. The trail was often overgrown and not always distinct but he was able to follow it. Gradually the path climbed higher. It ended abruptly at the edge of a pool, below a small waterfall. The setting was quite lovely as the water spilled and dropped into the basin. But what was maddening was the fact the trail lead nowhere. The mud around the pool bore the tracks of many animals, he was not sure of them all, but to Alan’s disappointment there were no human footprints. No consoling waffle prints or zigzagged rubber sole prints from hiking boots. It was evidently an infrequently used destination trail so he turned around determined to retrace his steps.

  As he backtracked Alan realized that he was unsure of where he entered the trail. In his excitement of finding what he assumed was a hiking path he failed to mark where he had crawled out of the bushes. Now long stretches of the shrubbery seemed vaguely familiar. He looked for signs of his footprints but it was mostly hard packed gravel. He found himself feeling anxious. Twice he got down on his knees thinking he had found the spot, but in both instances he was wrong. The problem of recognizing his starting point was compounded by the fact that the sun had moved far across the sky and the new shadows tended to change everything. At last he came to a spot he knew he had not seen before which meant that his original path lay somewhere behind him. A small spring trickled water out of the rock and a muddy area was well trodden by more animal tracks. He sat down to rest by the stream and sipped some of the cool water as it trickled right out of the rock.