The Morelville Mysteries Collection
Page 23
She paused and sipped from her water cup. Her hand shook and she had a strange look in her eyes.
I leaned forward and tried to capture her gaze. “There’s something you aren’t telling me isn’t there?”
Dana looked away from me and it was a long time before she answered. Finally she said, “Mel, I...I was trying to be evasive with them on the phone but the truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever have full function of my leg again. If I don’t regain everything, they’ve made it pretty clear I can’t continue in Special Investigations in my current capacity. I have to be fully mobile for that. For now, and especially since Delores is being held in Ohio, they’re reassigning me to the Columbus office. Once I’m out of here, for however long the legal process takes, I’ll work out of there.”
“And after that, if you don’t...don’t...?”
“Heal well and fully recover?” She finished for me and then shook her head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know!”
“Are there options that would at least let you stay with Customs?”
“Oh yeah, If I want to push paper or work baggage at an airport! I can’t do investigations unless I’m fully mobile with no accommodations. Hell, I can’t even work border patrol!”
Her frustration was palpable and completely understandable but I already knew her well enough to know that she didn’t want my sympathy. Instead I said, “Well, let’s cross that bridge when we come to it and, for now, let’s take first things first. Where will you stay once you’re released from here and assigned to Columbus?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to find a place and probably a roommate. Columbus is more expensive than Cleveland and I have a roommate there to share expenses.”
“You could...um...stay with me and Kris. We’re less than an hour from Columbus. You probably won’t need to go in every day anyway.”
“What? Don’t you think you ought to check with Kris first? What about her and the kids? I couldn’t impose like that!”
“Dana, we have the extra room and it’s my house too. Besides, it’s almost summer vacation. The kids will spend nearly every waking minute out at the farm once school is out. In fact, they pretty much just stay out there. Having you stay with Kris and me wouldn’t be a problem.”
“I don’t know Mel. It’s tempting but, well, what if Delores ends up released? She lives literally around the corner from you. That could be very awkward or even dangerous for all of us with me staying there.”
“I didn’t think about that...but, well, what are the odds?”
“I don’t know. Without my testimony, pretty good I would imagine, but even with it, it could happen.”
“Well, while she’s still in federal custody, you’re safe.” I thought for a minute then shrugged. “Look, it’s worth considering. The big plus is that the only expense you’d have is gas to get back and forth and, like I said, you probably won’t have to be in the office every day...just available for the legal stuff.”
Dana held up her hand, “Oh no, no! I’d pay my fair share of the household expenses.”
I sat back and tried to stifle a grin. She’s arguing so she’s considering it! “We can work that out. Honestly, I feel responsible for what happened to you. It’s the least I can do given your predicament.”
That set her off, “How the hell are you responsible?” She was yelling now. “Mel, I’m a Federal Agent. I was on a case that just happened to bring me to your neck of the woods. You were targeted too. You certainly didn’t shoot me! None of your folks shot me! Hell, I don’t even think it was any of the bad guys that shot me. I think the bullet I took came from either ATF or the Secret Service. Nobody’s claiming it but that’s what makes the most sense here!”
“Okay, okay! Sorry. Poor choice of words...I’m not responsible. I’d still feel better about things if you’d consider staying with me while you’re assigned to Columbus.”
“I just don’t know...”
“Promise me that you’ll at least think about it?”
“Okay. I’ll think about it but, first, my primary mission is to get released from here in the first place.”
“Roger that!” I snapped off a quick salute.
Dana laughed but then a look of suspicion crossed her eyes.
“You’re such a cop and that leads me to wonder; why are you here in the middle of the duty day?”
“I’m uh, working a case and, um...I had to bring someone in here.”
“I see. The Mushroom Murder?”
“The what?”
“The guy that died Saturday...is that what you’re working on?”
“Dana you know I can’t really talk about an open mur...investigation.” I walked right into that! How does she do that to me?
Chapter 6 – The Truth...Maybe
Tuesday, May 27th, 2014
Labs done on Libby Tracy showed she was high on the very powerful psychedelic tryptamine drug compound DMT when she was admitted to Genesis. I’d heard of it but it certainly wasn’t common in the area and it needed to stay that way. I had no idea where she’d gotten it but I intended to find out.
A complete search of the Tracy house hadn’t turned up any more of the DMT or anything that suggested how it was delivered to her. We also didn’t find any Ecstasy in the house or any evidence that there was or had ever been arsenic on the premises.
The search wasn’t a complete bust. The guys I left to process the scene did find a few interesting things as they sifted through the mess that Libby had created while stoned out of her mind and trying to ward off the wolves she was seeing in her hallucinations. They turned up some very high grade pot and also a blood pressure medication prescription for Ben Tracy that consisted of a full bottle of pills filled a little more than a month prior to his death. He hadn’t been taking them. At the least, Ms. Liberty Tracy had a little bit of explaining to do.
Libby was lying, still strapped to a hospital bed, seemingly asleep when I entered her room late Tuesday afternoon. I leaned over her and said firmly but in a softer than normal tone, “Mrs. Tracy, its Sheriff Crane. I need to speak with you.”
She turned her head toward the sound of my voice and opened her eyes. They were fairly clear for someone who, less than 24 hours earlier, had been on a wild, drug induced trip. She’d been playing possum. She was actually wide awake and more than a little angry. “I remember you Sheriff! Why are you having me held here? Why am I strapped to this bed?”
I raised my tone of voice, “Those are good questions ma’am. Let me just ask if you’d rather be here or in an interrogation room at the county lock-up?”
“Don’t be a bitch Sheriff. You have no reason to arrest me!”
I smarted a little at that. Playing ‘bad cop’ with a hippie throwback obviously wasn’t the way to go after all. I tried a different tactic. “Libby, do you know why you were brought in here in the first place?”
“No! The nurses aren’t telling me anything and your goons outside the door are being total asses to me too!”
I seriously doubted if my deputies rotating through to watch the detoxing Liberty Tracy even spoke with her during their shifts but then maybe that was her problem with them. They didn’t know anything about why she was there other than to rehab from a drug related issue. They were following orders to keep an eye on her so she didn’t hurt herself and to not let anyone in the room but me and hospital medical staff. They wouldn’t have been able to answer any of her questions no matter what she asked them about her own predicament.
I smiled at her and backpedaled to try and loosen her up, “I’m sorry that you’re being held like this ma’am but, when we brought you in yesterday, strapping you down and having an observer out there was for your own protection. You’d taken a very powerful psychotic drug and, we believe, because of its effects, you were in the process of destroying your home.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
Do you remember taking DMT yesterday Mrs. Tracy?
“What the hell is DMT?”
Libby just stared at me wide eyed but said nothing. “Libby?” There was no response. “Libby, I need to know where you got the DMT.”
“Am I under arrest Sheriff?”
“No ma’am, not at this point.”
“Pardon? What do you mean by that?”
“Mrs. Tracy, the Coroner has ruled Ben’s death to be a homicide. I went to your house yesterday afternoon to inform you and to talk with you more about Ben. That’s when I found you in the state that landed you here. You’re not a suspect at this point, as I said, but we have a lot to talk about. I really need your cooperation.”
She snorted. “Cooperation? With the cops? Look at me; I’m strapped to an f’n bed and I’m being pushed to confess to something I know nothing about. I want a lawyer.”
“You can have a lawyer if you like Mrs. Tracy but you aren’t under arrest or even under suspicion right now. We just need some sort of starting point for our investigation into your husband’s death. Frankly, you were strapped down for your own protection.”
I wasn’t getting through to her. I could see it in her eyes. I tried another tactic; “Look, I’m sure, since you’re doing better, your doctor can authorize the restraints to be removed.”
She appeared to think about that for more than a minute. Finally she spat, “Fine! Get the doctor in here then and then maybe I’ll talk to you.” She waved her hand toward the door.
An hour later, a more gentle Liberty Tracy was sitting up in bed, not fully recovered from her drug induced state, but happy to be free of her former bonds. Since I wasn’t formally charging with her with anything, to include any sort of drug related crime, I really couldn’t hold her in the hospital. She was free to check herself out now that she had been deemed to be not a danger to herself or others. I just hoped she’d cooperate just a little before she bolted. I’d called Treadway in to be a witness to her statement as I took it.
I decided to start with what had gone on with her and to work backwards from there to her husband’s murder. “Mrs. Tracy, I need to ask you again about the drugs. Where did you get the DMT?”
She looked away from me but then looked straight up when she realized Treadway had taken up a position on her opposite side. She was about to lie and we passed a look between us that said we both knew it.
“I didn’t take DMT Sheriff. I didn’t take anything.”
“Did you think you were taking LSD?”
“I just told you, I didn’t take anything!”
“Okay. Let’s talk about Monday then. What did you do on Monday?”
Her eyes darted about, “When on Monday are we talking?”
Being so evasive is starting to make more suspicious of her after all...Is this cop hatred or is this guilt? “Just start with first thing Monday morning.”
“Well, I remember the phone waking me. It was Ben’s sister Angie from Huntington.”
“West Virginia?” I was making notes.
“Yes, that’s where Ben grew up. He couldn’t wait to get away from there...” She trailed off.
“What’s Angie’s last name?”
“I don’t recall. She’s been married and divorced probably a half dozen times.”
I nodded. “I see. Why was she calling?”
“Oh, she pretended to be concerned about Ben but I know it was really all about money. She’s always looking for a handout. Probably hoped Ben left her something even though they hadn’t seen each other in years and hadn’t spoken, that I know of, in the last couple of years, at least. I didn’t call Angie to tell her about Ben’s death. I just called his momma. I’m sure she’s the one who called her. I just told Angie I couldn’t make funeral arrangements yet and left it at that.”
“What time was it when you hung up with her?”
“Well...I was still feeling a little out of sorts after Ben’s death and all so I went back to sleep. I didn’t get up till after 1:00, if that’s what you’re asking.” She gave me a questioning look.
“Once you were up, did you go anywhere or meet with anybody?”
That set her off again. “Are you interrogating me Sheriff? You said I’m not under arrest!”
“Libby, I’m trying to figure out three things; one, what happened to you on Monday afternoon or early evening, two; what happened to Ben and three; if those two things are related.”
She turned and looked at Treadway. He pursed his lips and nodded. She turned back to me. “Well then let’s stop beating around the bush here. Tell me what happened to Ben, Sheriff!”
I gave in to her demand. “Our investigation is just beginning, you understand, but we’ve opened this up as a murder case as a result of the coroner’s findings which say that Ben was poisoned over a long term leading to heart failure which ultimately caused his death.”
“Poisoned?” Her look was nothing short of incredulous and genuine. She shuddered and hunched her shoulders up tight. Even Treadway, a deputy with more than 25 years of combined military police and Sheriff’s Department service, raised his eyebrows.
“Yes ma’am.”
“How?”
“We’re not sure exactly how yet but we intend to find out. What we do know is that he was poisoned with arsenic.”
“Arsenic? Rat poison? How on earth...Where would he get...”
“It was in his bloodstream so we’re pretty sure he was getting it from something he was ingesting. It’s possible it was mixed with other drugs Ben was taking...like Ecstasy...” I let that statement hang in the air for a minute. Libby didn’t respond, she just started at me.
“Did you know Ben was a habitual user of Ecstasy?”
“I believe we had a conversation before Sheriff about how little I really saw Ben.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yes; and you also mentioned that you had an open marriage. Those two things go together, I’m sure, but my hunch is that the drug use plays into that too. I’m sorry to ask this but we really need to know; Libby, was Ben gay?”
Chapter 7 – Tap Dancing
You could have heard a pin drop in Liberty Tracy’s hospital room as she took in my question and attempted to frame a response. I waited patiently. Finally, she spoke.
“We’ve been together since college, Ben and I. We went to school in the ‘80s, you understand.” She looked at me for acknowledgement.
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow...”
“The ‘80s was the start of the whole ‘me generation’ business. Everybody was a Preppie in college. Everybody wanted to be a Yuppie when they finished college. Ben and I, we were different. When we met, through mutual friends, there was an instant attraction. We were both running with the same crowd of fringe people, into the same things, believed in the same things...” She coughed and cleared her throat. “Yes, Sheriff, to answer your question, drugs were a part of that. We partied with a little pot, a little speed...dropped a little acid, you know, now and then. We identified more with the students of the ‘60s then we did with most of the kids our age. We still do...did...do...”
“I understand but that really doesn’t answer my question.”
“I’m getting to that Sheriff. Ben, he was special back then. He was admired among our friends and other anti-establishment types as someone willing to take a stand for what he believed in. He was very charismatic...” Her demeanor became wistful and she appeared to be completely lost in thought about Ben in their younger years.
Treadway sneezed and the sound brought her back to the present.
“Where was I? Well, anyway, Ben attracted a crowd. Everyone wanted to be with him, if you know what I mean?”
I nodded. “Go on.”
“We were a couple but we were never exclusive. He slept with other women and he also slept with men. Oh, he was always careful and he always came back around t
o me because he said they were all for pleasure but that he loved only me.”
“How did you feel about all of that?”
“That was Ben. I accepted it. He always chose me Sheriff; whenever it mattered. Always.”
“So when did you two get married?”
“We lived together for a while after college...a few years, at least. We both came and went as the spirit moved us but there was still always ‘us’. When we bought the house, ten years or so ago, we weren’t married. The loan was so small because the house was in such need of rehab, that the bank didn’t bat an eye over our not quite legal status as a couple. We didn’t make it official until about five years ago when Ben needed a business loan to open the restaurant. His stability,” she made air quotes, “as a married man was, for some reason, important to get that loan.”
“The restaurant is The Hive, downtown in Zanesville, right?”
“Yes, that’s right. It’s...it was his pride and joy. Everything they use is organic and much of the stuff to make the menu items is locally produced. Ben was a real stickler about that.”
“What will happen to the restaurant now?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what I’ll do with it. For now Manny, the cook, is opening and closing but he was never part of the accounting and such...” She held her hands up to signal her turmoil over the topic.
“So, there’s no manager?”
“Oh no. Ben did all of that.”
“He spent a lot of time at the restaurant then?” I was trying to steer the conversation around to Ben Tracy’s comings and goings.
“Define a lot?”
She’s going to keep making this hard! “Was he there whenever they were open?”
“They serve the office breakfast crowd and they serve lunch. They don’t open until 10:00 AM on Saturdays and they aren’t open Sundays. Pretty much the rest of the time, he was on site and when he wasn’t, he was out doing promotional stuff or doing stuff like judging at that festival...”