by Anne Hagan
“Listen lady, I knew they’d come after me again. I wasn’t safe here. I had to get out of here then and I need to get out of here again.”
“You’re safe for the moment Mr. Moon. You’re on a locked ward here, now. Nobody gets in and out but specific medical staff members and me.”
“So you say!”
I ignored the barb, “Can you describe the vehicle that the shooter or shooters were driving?”
“SUV...all I know.”
“What color?”
He licked his tongue across his top teeth and raised his eyes to the ceiling as he thought about it. When he finally spoke, he sounded very unsure, “It was a weird color sort of tan but with that metallic kind of finish that makes it look like the color of a penny, only lighter...”
“Did you get any part of the license plate number?”
Moon shook his head no.
“How many people in the vehicle?”
“Least two. They was drivin’ by me and the passenger’s the one that shot me.”
“Did you get a good look at him?”
He was quiet for a long time.
“Mr. Moon, I really need to know if you got any sort of a look at him. Is there anything about him you recall or that you can identify?”
“I didn’t know him...least, I don’t think I did, but I can’t be sure. He had a ball cap on and sun glasses. I couldn’t really see his face.”
“Any logo on the ball cap that you remember?”
“No. Blue ball cap; that’s all I remember.”
“Could it have been one of the guys you were trying to hustle?”
“Never met them...had to be the bookie’s guys, like before.”
“You saw the men who beat you up last week?”
“I...um...don’t remember much about it. It all happened pretty fast. More than one guy; I remember that. Maybe three...”
That’s already more than you told me before... “You didn’t recognize any of them?”
“No.” His eyes darted about like he was waiting for someone to materialize from the walls of the room and condemn him.
He was lying and I knew he was. “Sterling, I can’t help you if you don’t help me.” I gave that just a second to register and then I asked again, “Could any of the men either time have been men you and JD hustled pool against?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible...never won that much...not worth all this,” he swept a hand up and down his body.
“You never won that much? Didn’t you tell me before that you and JD got a big score and that’s what got him into betting and borrowing money to bet, in the first place?” Moon paled and then averted his eyes away from me.
I have him now... “The two of you, or at least JD, played enough against the ‘high rollers’ as you called them, or won enough off of them to decide they were worth running a scam on. It didn’t work and so JD still owes the bookie money. Why would he have him killed? Since he’s dead, why would he want you dead too?”
Moon’s head shot back around to face me, his color rising again, “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying JD’s death may have been unintended. They may have been trying to scare him again but their plan failed. Since you were a part of the scam, it follows for me that the bookie would want you alive to atone for JD’s debt.”
“Ha, ha...how would he even know me?”
I glared back at him, “Really? Either JD fingered you when he was getting the beating of his life or your scam targets did.”
“So you think it’s the pool players who are after me?”
“You tell me!”
Moon’s eyes darted about the room again. He was so scared, I could see it in his face. He didn’t answer my question.
“Mr. Moon, someone wants you dead. If it’s not the bookie, then who? Who else would be after you? Did any of the men who attacked you or who shot at you look like any of the guys you played pool with?”
His whisper was barely audible, “Yes.”
“Okay. Good...good in the sense that that gives me something to work with. Now you listen to me, you’re safe as long as you stay right here. I’ll have men posted here around the clock. No one is getting on this ward or into this room that doesn’t get vetted by my department first. Okay?”
He nodded.
“I have a couple of more questions: One, do you have any of the men’s names that you were hustling in pool and betting?”
“Only first names.”
“Which were?”
“Um, well, one was Mick. He’s the easy one to remember.”
“Why is that?”
“He’s Irish...has an accent.”
“Any others?”
“Roger. My best friend growing up was Roger...why I remember it.”
“How many men were there?”
“Three.”
“What’s the third name?”
Moon blinked several times, “I just don’t remember.”
“And you feel pretty confident that at least one of those three assaulted you or shot at you?”
He nodded again.
“Which one?”
“Mick.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. One more thing: Do you know Olivia Stiers?”
“Who, Stiers?”
“Olivia Stiers, the woman JD was seeing? Your boss’s daughter?”
He didn’t bat an eye, “Didn’t know Mr. Stiers outside of the job and sure didn’t know his daughter.”
###
6:50 PM Monday, August 25th, 2014
Dana hung up the phone, grabbed her keys and left the house. As she walked to her own car, she glanced toward Mel’s County SUV, still parked in the driveway. Her brow creased in a look of worry.
The bookie told her she could meet Angel Eyes at The Boar’s Head and collect her payment after 7:00. Dana entered the bar just before then to find the woman already there. The owner who’d been watching the girl before didn’t seem to be around but the blue eyed runner had a bar customer sitting with her.
Dana took a seat at the bar and ordered a beer while she waited. When the man with the runner left, Dana slid into his chair before the other woman had time to even put her little notebook away.
Priscilla showed no emotion as she looked Dana over. When Dana didn’t speak, she asked, “Can I help you with something?”
Leaning toward her conspiratorially, Dana replied, “I just placed a bet and I was letting some winnings ride but the bookie said I needed to come and see you and...”
Priscilla waved her hands quickly in the air to stop the flow spewing from the other woman. “Shh! Shut up! Where the hell did they find you? Haven’t you ever done this be...” She stopped mid-sentence and peered at Dana closely, recognition lighting her eyes. Through gritted teeth she said, as she took out the notebook, “I’m going to pay you and then you need to get out of here and drop doing any sort of business with us in the future.”
Dana, dropping the ditzy act, asked, “And why is that?”
“I know who you are; your face has been all over the news around here. I know who you’re trying to help too. You need to drop it and walk away because you’re in way over your head.”
Priscilla noted something in her notebook and then slid an envelope across the table to Dana. “That’s all of it now beat it.”
“What are you going to do...little old you?”
“Are you a damn fool? I don’t work alone.”
Dana looked around at the nearly empty bar and shrugged, “Could’ve fooled me.” She picked up Priscilla’s pen and wrote a phone number on the edge of a beer coaster. “If you ever want to chat about anything, hit me up.”
I was in the parking lot leaning against Dana’s car in my street clothes paired with my ball hat and sunglasses disguise when she walked out of the bar. She did a double take when she saw me standing there.
“I saw your car here when I was coming back by. I know I’ve been putting in a lot of
hours lately but I didn’t think it was enough to drive you to drink.”
Dana smiled weakly, “I was just trying to help you out, like you asked.”
“Oh?”
“Let’s go home. We need to talk.”
“So, let me get this straight, you’ve been hanging out in bars and making deals with the devil to try and help me crack these cases?”
“Not deals with the devil, just bets with a bookie. I’ve done okay at it too.” She waived a little wad of cash at me.
“Dana...baby...I’m not so sure that was a good idea. As I’ve gone along, I’ve gotten more and more information. Some of these guys you’ve been dealing with are some pretty dangerous men. You’re playing with fire going to Ray’s and messing with them.”
“I’m done with them and now that the runner’s made me – still can’t quite figure out how she knew I was doing anything but placing bets – I’m out of it altogether.”
“I um, uh may have had something to do with that.”
“She said she saw me on the news but...it’s just...I don’t know...”
“Dana your runner is someone that works with me as ‘Angie’. She’s one of my confidential informants.”
Dana slumped down in her chair, “But, she’s really a runner Mel and...”
I nodded, “Yes, she is. I know all about it; or I know a lot of it anyway. She’s a basically good kid who’s had a very rough life. I turn a blind eye to how she makes her living for now while she’s clawing her way through school and she tells me things I should know.”
“So then what’s this ‘Angie’s’ story?”
“I don’t know all of it, she’s quite a bit younger than me but the gist of it is that she’s Nevil Harper Senior’s illegitimate daughter with Angelica Chappell.”
Dana’s eyebrows shot up, “Nevil Sr. from the fair?”
“Yes. Angelica got pregnant with ‘Angie’, whose real name is Priscilla, when she was married to Stanley Chappell.”
Dana looked confused, “How old is Stanley Chappell?”
“I don’t know exactly. He’s up there in years. Why?”
“Is there another Stanley Chappell?”
“His son; they’re senior and junior. That’s pretty common around here.”
“I guess so! So, are they somehow related to Delores Chappell and crew from the case that originally brought me to this area?”
“Stanley Sr. is the son of one of the other Chappell’s. He’d be a cousin to Delores and Heath Jr. who were your perps. Stanly Sr. ran the family horse farm for several years but he’s mostly moved on to focusing family money from training racehorses on buying investment properties. He’s a Zanesville area slum lord...has rental houses in the name of the family trust everywhere. Heath Jr., before you nailed him, had actually taken over the management of the horse farm from him.”
“What about Stan Jr.? Where’s he fit in?”
“Stan Sr. is his father obviously, but he’s quite a bit older. I think Stan Jr. is only 19 or 20. He’s Priscilla’s half-brother since Stanley Sr. is not her father but Angelica is the mother to both of them.” I scanned Dana’s face, “You still look confused.”
“I am, a little. You had information I didn’t have and I think I have some you don’t have. I might be able to help you after all but it might cost you an informant.”
“You mean put her in danger?”
“Not exactly, no. When you hear what I know...er, at least, what I think I know, you’ll see what I mean.”
“What? What is it?”
“Mel, I’m pretty sure Stanley Jr. is the bookie in all of this mess.”
“What? No way. He’s maybe 20 years old Dana!”
“And how old is Priscilla?”
“She’s 22.”
“And she’s one of his runners Mel. I tracked another runner to his house in the Chappell enclave just northeast of here. She does a good bit of her collecting and her payouts a couple miles from his place off the same main road. That’s probably to make delivery at the end of the night easier. I’m telling you, he’s the guy.”
At first, I was dumbfounded but then I started to think a little about it and what Dana said made sense. The pieces were starting to fit.
“So who do you think is bankrolling him?”
“Who?”
“Stan Junior.”
“Himself, Dana. He’s a trust fund baby. It sounds like he’s playing fast and loose with an endless supply of money he has to burn curtesy of a long line of Chappells’ before him.”
“Where does Priscilla come in? How does he get his older sister to work as his runner?”
“Half-sister, and that I don’t know. There’s a lot of bad blood there. The way I’ve heard it told is that when Stan Sr. found out Priscilla wasn’t his, he threw her and her mother out. They left the area.”
“ I told you, Priscilla – Angie as I’ve known her for so long – had it tough. Her mother went from up here,” I waggled my hand over my head, “to way down here,” I said as I dropped the hand below my knees. “Angie got involved with a street gang and got into some serious shit. My understanding is that she contacted her brother somehow. He sent her a ticket to get her here and get her off drugs.”
“And they end up as bookies? Do you think that’s why he brought her here?”
“I can’t answer that. What I do know is that Junior’s business is likely as unknown to Stan Sr. as it was to me. Stan Junior doesn’t want for anything. It’s like he’s just playing at this because he can.”
“Okay, but what about Priscilla? Why is she doing it?”
“It’s probably his twisted way of taking care of his poor big sister.”
Chapter 22 – Gossip
1:30 PM, Tuesday, August 26th, 2014
Adornetto’s Italian Restaurant
“Mom, this is Hannah. She’s an apprentice pastry chef here. Hannah, this is my mother Faye Crane.”
Hannah Yoder put her hand out for my mother to take but, rather than shake it, mom held on to it as she looked her up and down. “Do I know you? You look very familiar.” Hannah blushed crimson.
“Mom!” I chastised her with my tone.
“What did I say?” she turned to me and then to Dana, her question lingering in her eyes.
“Don’t worry about it for now. We wanted to meet you here for a late lunch to maybe talk about Hannah doing the wedding cake...er...cakes.”
My mother turned back to the girl, “You do cakes dear?”
Hannah smiled and nodded, “Oh yes ma’am. They’re my favorite thing to do. We do a lot of them here. I wouldn’t be doing it...them, by myself though. The chef would be in charge but it would be a real honor to do cakes for your daughters.”
“Is that right? Well sit down then and let’s talk about this.”
Hannah was barely in a chair and mom was off and running about the wedding for Kris and Lance and what sort of color theme they were having and on and on. I barely got her to quit talking long enough for us all to place our lunch orders.
The server gone, mom started to jump right back in where she left off but Hannah interrupted her. “Mrs. Crane, I thought there were going to be two cakes; one for Kris and Lance like we’ve been talking about and one for Dana and Mel, right?” She pointed at the two of us just sitting there listening.
“Well sure,” mom waved us off absently, “but they can tell you how they want their cake themselves if they decide to have one and all, if they go through with this ceremony thing.”
She prattled on but I tuned her out. I’d already explained to Hannah that my mother didn’t get the whole concept of having an actual wedding as a same sex couple or why it mattered. Dana and I just looked at each other silently and smiled tight lipped smiles whenever mom glanced toward either of us. I’d had an ulterior motive for inviting her to lunch and it wasn’t about wedding cake.
Our salads came and Hannah excused herself.
“Mel, I know that I know that young woman!”
“You do. It’s Hannah Yoder.”
“Yoder? As in an Amish Yoder?”
“Yes. Her father has the feed store. She used to take care of all of the puppies from their breeding business.”
“Ah ha, I remember her now. That’s it! What on earth is she doing baking here? The Amish community didn’t have enough baking for her to do?”
“Mom, really?”
“What? I’m asking a question is all.”
“Hannah chose to leave the order rather than join the church.”
“I know some of them do that but why would she?”
Dana rolled her eyes like Beth does, “You’ll have to ask Hannah about that Faye.”
“I intend to!”
And she will. I just know it. I changed the subject, “She’s an amazing baker mom. She’ll do a great job with the cakes.”
“So you two intend to have a cake too?”
We both nodded. “One cake would look pretty odd with three brides and a groom standing on top.”
“That isn’t funny Melissa Raye!”
“Ooh Mel, she used your full name. You better look out,” Dana joked.
I shot her a look but mom was already chastising her too.
“I’d use your full name too, if I knew it. You two think this is all a big joke. I’m trying to understand this, really I am, but you’re not making it easy.”
I put a hand on my mother’s. “Let’s just enjoy our lunch and talk about something else, okay?”
A half hour later, during a lull when mom stopped talking to take a bite of something, I led into the real reason for inviting her to lunch. “Hey,” I signaled to her, “You’ll never guess who I ran into the other day.”
“You better just tell me because I could be guessing for days.”
“Priscilla Chappell.”
“Priscilla Chappell? Angelica’s daughter?”
“That’s the one.”
“Here, in town?”
“Yes. She’s living here now.”
“I wasn’t aware the girl was back in town. Is her mother here too?”
“Um, no, I don’t think so.”
“And she’s still using the Chappell name?”
“Her mother must never have changed it. Probably couldn’t afford it after Stanley threw them out. Is it true, what I’ve heard, that he sent her packing with nothing?”
