by Anne Hagan
I made a pouty face which got me a gentle backhand to the shoulder.
“Let’s go meet Boo.”
“Okay,” I said, “but we’re not calling her that.”
Chapter 17 – Report!
Mel
0600 Saturday Morning, October 17th, 2014
I didn’t tell my assistant Holly that I’d be in the office on Saturday. I knew she’d show up at some point during the day just to make sure everything was just so, figuring I’d pop in on Sunday. Holly was a sergeant in her own right and a longtime friend I’d come up through the ranks with. She was the ideal choice to be my right hand when I took over as Sheriff. If I could get in and out before she got here, it would be a coup that I could egg her about for days.
I looked at the electronic schedule she kept. Shane Harding, my lead investigator, was due in at 7:00. I left him a message to come up and see me once he got settled then I dived into nearly a weeks’ worth of email.
Coming up for air about 6:30, I switched gears. When Shane got in, I wanted to talk about the Olivia Steirs murder and what role, if any, Nevil Harper Sr. had played in it and about Terry Ford. I went over to records, pulled the slim Ford file myself since no one was in yet, and skimmed it quickly. There were several statements but I was the most interested in Sheila Fords.
I read through her statement to the deputy that had taken her missing persons report and then through the later statement after Terry had been found. Both were consistent in content. Nothing seemed amiss.
Leafing through the rest of the file, I noted brief statements by Chloe Rossi about Terry’s disappearance and by my father about finding him. When on earth did Chloe have time to make a sworn statement?
Shane popped his head around my door frame about 7:10. “Welcome back boss!”
“I’d like to say it’s good to be back but, really, I was enjoying the break.”
“I bet. I haven’t been down that way in a few years but I know it’s beautiful this time of year.”
“That it is. We hope to get down there more in the future. For now though, duty calls.”
Shane smiled, “I’m assuming you want a run-down of all the open stuff?”
“Not everything...not today anyway. For now, just give me the highlights on the Steirs case and then let’s talk about the Ford drowning.”
Shane flipped open his notes, “We don’t have a lot to go on, on the Steirs murder. There are no camera’s with video footage of her front or back door or anywhere out in front of her condo. The back gate was locked as was the back door the day she was found but, if you remember right, we went right in the front door when we received the call. It was unlocked and slightly ajar. The perp may have gone in and out that way.”
I nodded as he continued, “There are still no witnesses that saw anything at all going on that day besides Nevil Harper Jr. now...nobody’s come forward. Junior claims his father left the door ajar and he did too, when he left after phoning the murder in. He’s back at work at the shop he was at before. I check up on him daily. We’ve taken his fingerprints. They’re not in AFIS. We don’t know yet if they’re a match for the few we got when we dusted in the house but I imagine they’ll match to the phone, at a minimum.”
“What about his father?”
“That’s the toughie. We tried to pull him in here Wednesday to get a statement. He wouldn’t talk much; lawyered right up.”
“That’s interesting there,” I was surprised. “Prints?”
“We didn’t get them but we didn’t need to. He’s been arrested before so his prints are already in the system. The lab is a little slow, no response yet on match or no match for any of the prints from the scene to father or son.” I made a mental note to call my buddy Izzy on Monday, even if it meant adding to the debt I already owed her.
“Unfortunately, that’s all we’ve got boss.”
“Let’s hope the prints give us something, then.”
Shane nodded. “Ford is pretty straightforward Sheriff. Kreskie ruled Ford’s death a drowning with no evidence of any trauma. He’s pegged the time of death at approximately 1:30 in the afternoon on Sunday. There were no signs of foul play in the area of the pond where he drowned; in fact, there were no signs of other humans being on the scene at all until the search team, which included your own father, got there.”
“I read dad’s statement. I also read Sheila Ford’s and my wife’s mother’s statements.”
“Ford’s brother and, uh, your father were raising such a stink boss, we got all of those because we were trying to be real thorough.”
Nodding myself, I said, “I appreciate that. The Coroner says the time of death was about 1:30? Sheila Ford would have still been at the store, I imagine.”
“She was. We checked that.”
“She couldn’t have, say, pushed him in? Or, held him under, maybe?”
“No. She was at the store until after 3:00 with several witnesses who have verified that.”
“Did anyone report any sort of argument between the two of them?”
“No. She admitted to me that she was disgruntled having to be in the store on a Sunday but she was quick to tell us that wasn’t Terry’s fault. A woman that works with Terry on Sunday called off at the last minute and the worker corroborates that.”
“Okay. Sounds like you covered all the bases.” I thought for a minute. “You know, what I don’t understand is how a man drowns in such a shallow pond. I’m familiar with that one. We used to fish there with dad. It’s a good sized one but, even out in the very center, it’s maybe six feet deep.”
“Boss, we both know you can drown in a lot less water than that. Maybe he fell in, got stuck in the muck and, fighting to get out, he took in too much water or got too far out where he panicked.”
“Panicked? Why?”
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
Shane’s eyes bored into mine, “Ford couldn’t swim Mel.”
“Seriously?”
“Chuck Knox, the guy that owns the pond swore to that but, ask Terry’s brother or any of his other fishing buddies Sheriff or look at any fishing derby pictures of him; he always has a lightweight life vest on. It was with his gear that was stacked at home by the front door ready for the fishing trip he was supposed to leave for on Monday morning. He went out that day without it.”
“Well I’ll be damned...”
I scribbled out a quick note for Holly from a rhyme I remembered from high school;
I was here but now I’m gone,
I left this note to carry on...
I put a bottle of Bennett’s barbecue sauce, a gift for her, at the corner to hold it down. That will get her all stirred up!
To satisfy my own curiosity, I ran Joe Treadway down in town as he was leaving a radio call.
“Hey Sheriff. Welcome back.”
“Thanks Joe. Got a minute?” He nodded. “I just talked with Harding but I want to get the scoop from someone that was on the scene at the Ford drowning when he was pulled out. What can you tell me?”
“There’s not much to tell. From the set up, it looked like he was fishing from the bank, fell in for some reason or waded out and he drowned. There was no sign at all of any struggle and there was no sign of any other vehicle having been in the area.”
“Was he wearing waders Joe or muckin’ boots, at least?”
“No,” he shook his head. “Just regular ankle boots...hiking type boots.”
“Was there any tackle or any bait around that might have been his?”
“That was the only odd thing Sheriff. His pole was there, line out in the water, but nothin’ else. We did look around for stuff but we didn’t find anything.”
I nodded. “Okay then. That’s odd but it’s the only odd thing. It settles it in my mind.”
“That all Sheriff?”
“One more thing Joe; will you be sitting for the detective test this time around? I still have a vacancy that needs filled. You’d do a fine job.”
“No Sheriff; sorry to disappoint you but I like what I’m doin’ just fine, if you don’t mind. Somebody has to show these new patrol deputies how to do things right.”
Chapter 18 – Bereaved?
Mamma Rossi
Saturday Afternoon, October 17th, 2014
Dana and I walked into the church where Terry’s memorial service was being held. It was only slightly larger than the funeral parlor just up the street where the viewing had been and it was filling up fast. We found seats together near the back with a little space left over for Mel when she arrived from work.
I knew from what I’d heard that Terry wasn’t a churchgoer but his wife was. I watched as mourner after mourner approached her and offered condolences. Other people were present around her, presumably his children and grandchildren. Some were crying or looked near tears. The widow herself was somber in her black attire and muted expression but otherwise dry eyed.
I whispered to Dana, “It’s not my place to judge but really, through this whole thing, she hasn’t seemed too awfully upset.” I tipped my head toward the standing Sheila Ford. My darling daughter didn’t reply. She just shook her head slightly and continued to watch the goings on in front of the casket set front and center.
Mel, still in full uniform, joined us a few minutes before the service began. Several rows ahead, on the other side of the only aisle, were the Cranes. They’d arrived, apparently, much earlier than we had. I didn’t see Dingy Dale anywhere in the little church and I had no idea what the Johnsons or Art Majors looked like to know if any of them had decided to show up and pay their respects.
We three sat through a short, generic sermon by a pastor who obviously didn’t know much about Terry and some more heart felt short eulogies from the man’s grandchildren. A half hour later it was all over but the burial.
A caravan of cars proceeded out to the village cemetery. Dana and I left her car back at the church and rode with Mel. The two of them seemed preoccupied through the entire graveside thing. I noticed Mel watching Sheila a lot but I didn’t know what to make of it.
Back at the church for the wake, we joined Faye and Jesse. Standing next to each other, serving food were none other than Lucy Sharpe and Jenna Mae Rogers. I was surprised but Faye seemed unfazed, greeting both women warmly.
“Chloe, you know Lucy and I introduced you to Jenna Mae the other day.”
“I remember. It’s such a somber occasion but it’s nice to see you two ladies again.” Both just nodded, Lucy Sharp’s mouth set in a grim line and Jenna Mae smiling only slightly. I was a little put out by their demeanor but I tried not to let it show. Instead, I said, “Lucy, they just love that bedroom suite in the guest room!”
Lucy Sharpe turned to Mel, “Did you?”
“It’s beautiful Mrs. Sharpe.”
For my daughter-in-law she smiled brightly. “I’m so glad you like it dear.”
We all continued past as the two women served the next people in line with bright smiles. Well that’s a puzzle, there!
We all took seats at one end of long tables set up in the fellowship hall downstairs from the church sanctuary. The tables filled up as fast as the memorial service had.
I was sitting directly across from Faye. While Jesse was speaking over his shoulder to a man I didn’t recognize and the girls were whispering quietly with a young couple, a woman angling for the empty seat to Faye’s left asked to take it and then introduced herself to the two of us.
“I’m Helen Vance.”
We both introduced ourselves.
“I’m sorry, you seem familiar but I just can’t place you...” Faye said to her in a tone that was both curious and questioning.
“Oh, I’m sure you’ve seen me around. Sheila and I grew up together in Zanesville. We’ve been friends for as long as we can remember. I live in Columbus now but we still try to get together as often as we can; often to hang out here. This is such a quaint little town.”
Agreeing with her, I said, “I’ve just spent the week here and I’ll certainly be back. It’s so different from the Pittsburgh area where I live.”
“Which is probably a lot like Columbus so, that it is. Hopefully now, I’ll be welcomed here a little more often.” Helen looked away from me and down at her plate rather abruptly.
Faye and I shared a look and then she prompted Helen, “Something kept you away before?”
“I’m here for Sheila today, poor soul. I’ve always been her friend and I always will be but I’ve never been a fan of his,” the woman whispered. “Sometimes I just couldn’t bear to come down here knowing I’d be spending time with not just her but him too.”
Faye had no idea what to say; she simply raised her eyebrows in a look of surprise.
The woman seemed inclined to continue, “She deserved so much better,” she whispered. “He wasn’t abusive, not that I knew but, God rest his soul, he wasn’t attentive either, not to her anyway.”
“I’m sorry. Whatever do you mean?” Faye was still somewhat taken aback by the sudden brashness of the woman.
“I mean, there were other women. Let me tell you, Terry had a habit of sneaking off to Tennessee with other women...to meet with other women...would say he was going to his brother’s to fish or hunt. Well Sheila caught him out one time and she decided to follow him down there when he said he was going to his brother’s to confront him about it.”
“Really? Well, whatever came of that?”
Now the other woman was out of steam. She shrugged, “I don’t quite know what happened down there or whatever came of the whole situation but I do know that Sheila was actually back before Terry was. I was at my sister’s house in Zanesville. She was over there in a flash, crying on my shoulder, she was!”
I excused myself to fetch a cup of coffee. When I returned, two men were standing at the end of the table talking with all of the Cranes. Faye introduced them to me as Terry’s brothers, Pete and Steve Ford.
“Steve lives here locally Chloe, and Pete is up from Tennessee where Terry was originally from.”
“My condolences to both of you.”
“Thank you,” the two men replied in near unison.
Jesse, looking at Pete, spoke up, “How’ve the whitetail been running?”
“It’s been a good season so far. Terry didn’t make it down for the first round of bow hunting and he really missed out. He was looking forward to coming down for the second round of bow season later this the month.”
I watched Mel give Dana a look. Now, what’s that all about? I didn’t get a chance to ask as the two men moved on to speak with others and Mel stood up to excuse herself.
Faye eyeballed me, “Why don’t you show me where you got that coffee? I could sure use a cup.”
Once we were at the coffee urn and out of earshot of most of the mourners in the hall, Faye spoke quietly, “There’s a lot of talk flying and a lot of stuff going on here that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Tell me about it!” I shook my head. “Everyone is either acting oddly or they have an axe to grind.”
“It makes me wonder,” Faye began, “If...”
“Pardon me, Faye, Chloe,” Lucy Sharpe interrupted her.
Faye turned to her, “Yes?”
“I just wanted to apologize for, well you know, before. I realize I was a little rude and that wasn’t right.”
“No harm done Lucy.” Faye smiled, seemingly ready to forgive easily for the small transgression.
“It’s just that I really talked out of turn the other day. I really shouldn’t have said anything at all. I felt so bad after I spoke with Amy about it because she got a bit annoyed with me. She said it was all just a misunderstanding; Rich blew it out of proportion...”
“I see,” Faye told the near tears shopkeeper. “Say no more. Consider it forgotten.”
I nodded my own consent.
Lucy, seeming a little relieved, wandered back toward the food line where the other servers were beginning to clean up.
Faye looked aroun
d. A couple of dozen people were still milling about. She put her coffee down. “Let’s go talk somewhere a little more private.” She headed toward the restroom and I followed.
Once the door was closed, without preamble, Faye dived right in, “Now Lucy is acting even more strangely.”
“It seems like she was feeling a little guilty about gossiping to me, especially after the object of her transgression dressed her down for it.”
“No,” Faye said, “I know Lucy and I know Amy. There’s more that Lucy isn’t telling us. I’ll bet when she talked to Amy, Amy gave her an earful but not just a dressing down. Now it seems like she’s backtracking, trying to defend Amy.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Faye certainly knew the players better than I did.
Faye threw her hands up, “People are just coming out of the woodwork with bad things to say about Terry. First that Helen woman with the stuff about Terry going to Tennessee all the time and Sheila catching him down there, then his brother stands right there and says he hasn’t been there in a while; now this stuff with Lucy...I’m beginning to think Sheila might have actually pushed the man into that pond and held him under!”
“I don’t know that I’d say all that, now.” I related the conversation I overheard about Art at the viewing to her. “There’s more than one person out there that’s not sad to see the man gone, I’m sorry to say. Give Sheila the benefit of the doubt here.”
###
Mel
Gun belts are a pain in the butt for female cops when nature calls. I was standing in a toilet stall, minding my own business, trying to fasten mine back on in the tight space when I heard my mother and Dana’s come into the restroom and immediately set their gums to flapping.
I didn’t know what to do. It was obvious they thought they were alone and their conversation was certainly of interest to me so, like a brazen eavesdropper, I just stood there quietly.
Their chat didn’t take even a minute but I learned more in that time than I had in several days of farting around with the Tennessee authorities. My gut now told me Sheila might very well have pulled the trigger on the shot that killed Patricia Dunkirk.
