by Anne Hagan
Amy took a deep breath as she tried to steady herself. Failing, she lowered herself instead into one of the tiny but sturdy chairs meant for rough and tumble toddlers bent on climbing and jumping and doing everything else that toddlers do. Faye and I pulled out chairs and followed suit.
“Rich travels a lot for work...a whole lot. What, with the kids both in college now, I’m alone most of the time. I just hate...hate being alone. But, college is expensive and the money’s good when he’s on the road so away he goes...”
“Honey,” Faye cautioned, “you don’t have to say anything else. Just let it go.”
“No, no...I want to tell you this. You’re right, I need to get it off my chest and move on.”
We both nodded silently at her and just let her talk.
“Terry was a flirt, you know?”
Faye simply shrugged.
“He was. If Sheila wasn’t around, he was merciless. If she was there, he’d tone it down only a little. I just blew him off most of the time.”
Most of the time, eh? Here it comes...
“One time, when we’d had plans with my family for a family get together made for more than a month, Rich decided at the last minute to take an optional short assignment that had him flying out the night before the party and returning the day after it. He ruined everything we’d planned and we had quite a row about it but, in the end, he went on the assignment anyway.”
Amy dipped her head and rubbed her temples then she continued, “I was so angry with him, after he pulled away and headed toward the airport, I slammed out of the house and went for a walk. It was only after I got back that I realized the door had locked behind me and I had no keys with me. I didn’t take my cell either. I walked over to the store and asked Terry to use his phone to call my sister and have her come down with her spare key.”
“My sister didn’t answer. Terry was minding the shop alone and he invited me to stay until I got in touch with someone. He flirted non-stop, he said he was trying to cheer me up. For over an hour I tried to get a hold of Judy but I never did. In the end, he closed up the store and he went with me to help me break into my own house.”
“We just...it just...I never meant for it to happen. I was just so mad at Rich and frustrated with myself and...”
“Stop, stop dear. It’s okay,” Faye told her.
I clucked my tongue, “You were vulnerable and he took advantage of you. It’s not your fault Amy. It’s not your fault at all, don’t you see?”
Tears streamed down her face. I picked the tissue box back up and offered her another.
“He asked to see me again. I told him no...” She trailed off and sighed. “I felt so guilty, I completely avoided the store and Sheila for weeks afterward. I never told Rich...I couldn’t. He’d have been so hurt and so angry.”
“I guess I was naive to think some sort of word wouldn’t get around, especially after Rich laid in to Terry...”
I was confused. “You just said you never told Rich...”
Amy shook her head vigorously and waved her hands in front of her, “Oh, no, no. I didn’t. I was quiet about that and I avoided the store and anywhere that I might encounter Terry for a couple of months after it happened. But, one day, Rich and I were off doing something and on the way back we decided to grill burgers for dinner. Rich pulled in at the store and sort of gave me instructions to grab buns and chips while he grabbed a couple of other things.”
“When we walked in, Terry wasn’t up front. Rich went around to the back aisle, while I got my stuff off the front one. Terry must have heard the bell over the door jangle because he came out of the office and immediately saw me. He didn’t realize Rich was there. Actually, I’m certain he thought we were alone because he started right in on me with ‘Hey, I haven’t seen you for a while,’ and it got pretty lewd from there. When Rich realized he was talking to me, he came around the end of the aisle and he blew up.”
Faye was sitting nodding at Amy as she spoke. Now, she reached forward and took Amy’s hand in hers, “That might be all anyone knows about dear. I don’t think you need to worry anymore...”
“I’m not sure what Rich knew then or what he knows now but I’ve been faithful to him since that day...and...and, up until that day.”
I told her, “It’s over. It’s done. It doesn’t do anybody any good to bring it all up again now that Terry is dead. Just let it be.”
As we were driving out to the farm, Faye and I were talking. “I know Rich Johnson pretty well. If I was a betting woman, I’d be willing to bet that he probably knows more than Amy thinks he does.”
“Amy knows him too Faye. Don’t you think she’d sense if he was onto her?”
“He may be biding his time, waiting for her to come clean to him or maybe he’s even waiting for the right moment to use it against her.”
“You’re right, I don’t know him so I can’t speculate. It sure makes things complicated though.”
“What things?”
“Figuring out who may have wanted Terry dead. There are several people that we’ve run across now, besides Sheila, that disliked the man pretty intensely or who had a score to settle with him. We can add both Rich and Amy to the list.”
###
Mama Rossi
The Crane Family Farm
“Chloe, you’re about to experience a Crane family fun day. It’s a Sunday tradition once or twice a month when things need doin’ around here. That’s why we went to church early. We’ve got cooking to do!”
“Whatever happened to Sunday being a day of rest?”
“Not on a farm sweetie, not on a farm...”
We cooked liked two crazed Army chefs readying to feed a battalion while Jesse, Mel, Dana and Kris’s teenage children Beth and Cole picked the last of the root vegetables from the garden, got it tilled up for the fall and did various other chores around the Crane spread.
Right around 4:10 Faye sent me to the porch to let everyone know that Mel’s twin sister Kris and her new husband would be arriving back from their own honeymoon in Florida shortly; they’d called that were on the ground and en-route. I was also let everyone know that dinner would be ready within the half hour.
Kris and Lance turned into the long drive right about 4:15, as I was heading back into the house. All work stopped then. I stopped too and watched as Beth and Cole ran from the barn across a field to the drive to meet up with their mother and their new step-father before Lance’s SUV even rolled to a full stop. It was obvious to anyone watching, they were excited to have them home and, I suspected, even more excited to see if presents for them were in the offing.
I heard Kris exclaim, “I’m happy to see you both too...now let me get out of the car!” She and Lance lumbered toward the house like people tired of sitting for hours. I held the door for them and welcomed them home since Faye was still busy in the kitchen. The two kids bounced in behind them like excited toddlers instead of the teenagers that they were.
After a long, food packed dinner with lots of chatter and laughter about the highlights of both honeymoons, the kids ran off to do the things farm kids do in the dimming autumn light and we adults rolled ourselves fat and happy to the front porch for some more adult conversation.
Kris looked at her father critically, “You look good dad but how are you really feeling?”
Jesse just grunted at her and tried to wave her off but Faye was giving him the evil eye and he caught it. “I’m doing better. Those meds are a pain and I don’t like to take them, that’s what!”
“Dad,” Mel cautioned, “those are what’s helping your heart right now. You have to take them.”
“I just said I don’t like ‘em, I didn’t say I wasn’t taking ‘em.”
“I worried about you a lot while we were gone.” Lance nodded in agreement with his wife.
“Don’t be worrying about me,” Jesse flipped a backhand at her, “I’m just fine.”
“Whatever you say dad.” Kris’s tone was laced with exasperation. She looked ba
ck and forth between her mother and Mel, “So, which one of you is going to fill us in about Terry?”
Mel told her, “There’s really nothing to tell. He fell into a pond he was fishing in out at Chuck’s place and he drowned.”
Jesse scoffed at that. Kris eyed her father but her mother spoke first, wresting her attention back toward her.
“I don’t think it’s quite that simple anymore Kris and your father never did.”
Deferring again to her father, Kris asked him, “What do you think dad?”
Jesse, a man of few words, I was learning, thought for a minute as he worked his mouth to form the words. He finally spit out, “Didn’t seem right to me. Just Terry and a pole. No bait, no tackle, wasn’t wearin’ his waders.”
When he paused and didn’t say anything else, Kris asked, “So Mel, you obviously disagree. What do you make of that?”
“I don’t make anything of it. I wasn’t here to see it but I trust my men when they say that they investigated the scene thoroughly but found no signs whatsoever of foul play and that’s all I’m going to say about it.”
“Well, I have a few things to say about the whole mess,” Faye protested. “There’s a lot going on surrounding it, if you ask me but, bottom line and heaven help her, I think Sheila may be involved somehow.”
“Mom,” Mel stuck a hand out to slow her mother’s spew of speculation, “that’s just not possible. Sheila was in the store that day at the time that he died and there are several witnesses that will attest to that.”
“I still say she’s involved somehow but maybe not directly. Terry was cheating on her. She actually followed him to Tennessee and caught him in the act and now he’s dead and, God love her because I sure do, but she sure don’t seem sorry about it!”
“They’re just unfortunate coincidences mom.”
I picked up on the word ‘coincidence’ right away and fired back at Mel, “There are lots of strange things going on all the way around his death, like your mother said, that even I can see from a layman’s point of view. Why don’t you explain what you mean by ‘coincidences’?”
Mel sighed. She looked at Dana and then back at me. Twisting her head about to look at all of the group assembled on the porch, she said, “This doesn’t leave this porch, got it?” The forcefulness in her voice had us all nodding vigorously.
“Dana and I found out that a woman Terry was apparently seeing was killed in Tennessee. The police there ruled her death a negligent homicide but we aren’t so sure.” Dana shook her head no, punctuating Mel’s statement.
“The killer wasn’t caught and the police down there were working under the assumption that it was a coyote hunter who fired an errant shot and never even knew what happened, when no one came forward.”
“Mel’s being charitable toward the Sevier County Sheriff’s department,” Dana supplied, “but I don’t have to be. We did a little bit of investigating on our own and we know the woman was killed by an intentional shot from a .22.”
Jesse jumped in, “You said they were thinking a coyote hunter done it?” At Mel’s nod, he continued, “You don’t hunt coyote with a .22!”
Mel responded to her father, “And you don’t use jacketed rounds either. A hunter would know that.”
My mind was whirling. Without really thinking it all out, I blurted “Sheila Ford has a .22.”
“What?” came several responses.
“I was doing her nails before Terry’s viewing on Friday. A .22 rifle leans in a corner by her kitchen door. I asked about it and Sheila told me Terry kept it there for groundhogs.”
Mel asked us to just drop the subject and not say anything more about it so we did but I was positive I could see the wheels just turning in her mind.
Chapter 20 – Boo Boo
Mel
6:15 AM Monday Morning, October 19th, 2014
I got into the office really early again but, this time, I didn’t have a jump on Holly who had the whole place ship shape and was leaned back, pretending to file her nails when I arrived.
After a bit of ribbing from me and then a brief rundown of the personal side of my honeymoon, we got down to business. Holly was in tune with my thought processes and my habits. She knew I wouldn’t have come in over the weekend or extra early this morning if I didn’t think there was something pressing that needed attention.
“There’s more that happened on our honeymoon that I haven’t told you about,” I began.
“Mel, I don’t really want to know all the nitty gritty details, that’s TMI territory right there, that’s what that is.”
“TMI?”
“Too much information.”
“Oh...No, it’s nothing like that!” I actually felt myself blush a little. Cut it out right now! You’re the Sheriff; you don’t blush! Holly grinned, adding to my pain.
Finally, taking pity on me, she said, “Relax. I know what you meant. What’s going on?”
I quickly sketched out for her what had happened in Tennessee. She listened without comment until I was done.
“Those guys down there sound like pricks, pardon my French,” she said and rolled her eyes.
“They’re not my concern any longer. Finding out if Sheila Ford was down there, gunning for Terry, for Dunkirk or for both of them is.”
“That’s going to be a tough one Mel.”
“Probably not as tough as you think. I’ll have Shane get on establishing a link between Ford and Dunkirk. There are certainly witnesses down there who could link them.” I thought about the rental office folks and the server at Bennett’s. “I need to get them linked locally too. Once we establish all that, I’ll have our DA or even the state AG go to theirs. I’m done dealing with the Sevier County Sheriff’s Department.” Bunch of yahoos...
“Also, there’s at least one person here who’s already said Sheila went alone down to Tennessee and ‘caught Terry’ to my own mother. I haven’t actually said anything to her yet but I have no qualms having my mom make a statement pointing out where that info came from.” I smirked.
“None?”
“Not one!” We both laughed. “I know what you’re thinking; if my mom ever really had to come in and make a statement we’d end up with the history of Muskingum County.”
“Ain’t that the truth!”
“Seriously though Holly, we need to get on this quick. I need you to pull whatever info you can find on Patricia Dunkirk and give it to Shane. After that, we need to put our heads together and work up some warrants to get Sheila Ford’s credit card and bank card statements for September and her cell records for then and we’ll want to search her home, specifically for a .22 rifle or pistol and some jacketed rounds.”
When I finished up with Holly, I called the Columbus crime lab to talk to Izzy about the Steirs’ murder case. She was at her Monday morning meeting. I elected not to leave her a message. I figured I’d be hearing from her soon anyway.
###
Mama Rossi
Boston Terriers are smart little dogs. I’d had one myself when I was a teenager. I knew Boo would pick up fast but Dana and Mel didn’t seem to be so sure. I vowed to myself to look into some obedience training classes for her.
The girls didn’t have a phone book in their new house and I wasn’t sure about the whole idea of using computers like they were so fond of so I went next door just after 8:00 and, thankfully, found that Kris was up after getting the two kids off to school.
“I’m so sorry to bother you this morning but I have a question for you...”
Kris smiled, “It’s no bother at all. Come on in. Coffee?”
“Thanks, but not this time.”
“What can I help you out with?”
“My Dana has just fallen in love with little Boo...”
“She’s a cutie,” Kris interrupted.
I nodded, “That she is, but Mel doesn’t seem to be taking to her very well.”
“Mel will come around Mama Rossi; don’t you worry. She loves dogs...she’s just used to having
bigger dogs.”
“That’s fine but...well, I really want to give her no reason to be frustrated with Boo and I want Dana to learn to work with the dog too because I think it will be good therapy for her with her leg problems and all.”
“So you’re talking about some sort of training?”
“Obedience training to start with, yes. Do you have a place near here or know someone who does training?”
“I know a guy that trains hunting dogs but...obedience? I don’t think he does that.” She shrugged, “I could ask him for you.”
I was skeptical, “How about a pet shop or a groomer? They’d probably know someone who trains dogs.”
“There’s both of those in Zanesville. I can get you some addresses.”
Armed with the addresses of the one local pet shop and two dog groomers that were within reasonable driving distance, Dana, Boo and I set out for Zanesville just after 9:00.
Stopping at the closest groomer first, Dana put Boo on a leash but the she seemed to prefer being carried over walking after turning a fearful eye toward all the traffic moving about.
When we entered the shop, the whir of a dryer sent the little dog climbing from Dana’s arms to her shoulder like she was trying to get away via actual flight. “She really does need training,” I remarked.
Dana picked her off her shoulder and cooed at her, “You’re fine baby girl. Everything’s fine.”
“I’ll be right with you,” a young woman running a dryer over a standard poodle told us. While we waited and watched her and another woman work with dogs up on tables, the door opened again and a man I’d peg as a few years older than me or so strolled in.
The other woman, who was trimming a cocker spaniel, looked round at him. She smiled and said to the man, “He’s almost done Mr. Majors. Give me just another minute.”
Hmm, could this be Art Majors? What are the chances? I looked the man over.
Catching me looking at him, he half turned away as if he didn’t want to be bothered by me or anyone else.
