by Anne Hagan
Through the din, a man’s voice rang out, calling for quiet. Even Sheila grew silent as we all looked toward the door for the source. The order had come from the uniformed deputy that had entered with Mel.
Mel’s target wasn’t hushed for long. She started right in on her, “You’re crazy Mel. You’ve gone off the deep end. I didn’t kill anybody! I don’t even know that first person you named. You can’t do this to me! Let me go! You have no reason to arrest me!” Sheila shouted on and on.
When Mel could get a word in, she tried to tell the shrieking woman, “I do have reason and the authorities in Tennessee will be extraditing you for questioning and likely arraignment on the charges within the next 24 hours, I can guarantee it.”
“Tennessee? I haven’t been to Tennessee in years! What are trying to pull here?”
I could sense Faye bristling beside me. Putting out a hand on her arm to steady her, I knew we were both recalling what Helen had told us at the funeral and Mel’s revelation on the farm on Sunday. Everything seemed so long ago now but it was all coming back very quickly.
Dingy Dale got to his feet from within the circle of the decorating and staging group. He looked across at Sheila, “I just knew you were gunning for Terry! I never believed for a minute that he drowned out there without help.”
“I didn’t murder my husband Dale!”
“No, she didn’t,” Mel said, “but she did try once; didn’t you Sheila?”
Sheila Ford dropped her head. Her reply of “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” was barely audible, even in the now nearly quiet room. Everyone seemed to be hanging on every word.
“I think you do Mrs. Ford. There is a witness that knows you went to Tennessee the day Patricia Dunkirk, of Columbus, your husband’s mistress, died. There’s other evidence to prove you were there too.”
“Did someone see me there?”
“No, they didn’t have to. You cell phone, your purchases, and your fingerprints on a bullet casing and the weapon that shot the bullet will all prove your guilt.”
“What...how...where...”
“Terry went to Tennessee to meet up with Patricia that weekend, didn’t he Sheila?” She didn’t respond but that didn’t deter Mel. “You weren’t too far behind him were you? You just needed to stop at Walmart in Pigeon Forge and buy a few things first, right?”
Sheila’s face drained to a shade as pale as ash.
Mel must have picked up on it. I caught her as she hid a slight smile before she pressed on. “When Terry got down there, the woman was soaking in the Jacuzzi tub in their cabin. Terry must have decided to go outside for a smoke. He stood on the front balcony of their cabin, in front of the open door to the master bedroom, completely oblivious to you lying in wait on the hill across from him with binoculars, a rifle and a plan to kill him.”
Ford swallowed hard but she said nothing.
Mel continued, “He must have moved just before your shot rang out. When he heard the shot and then Dunkirk cry out, and he realized what happened, he panicked. After finding her already dead by the time he got to her, he must have rinsed out the Jacuzzi and staged her body on the balcony, then cleaned the door handles and the tub again before leaving. He probably thought he hadn’t touched anything but the wet tub and the door handles in the cabin in the short time he was there but he missed one piece of furniture that has since yielded his fingerprints. Regardless he left.”
“What makes you so sure Terry didn’t kill her...that woman? Maybe he wanted her dead!” Sheila Ford was obviously grasping for anything she could come by for her defense.
“I’ll be honest Mrs. Ford, I had a hard time putting it all together without Terry to tell his side of the story. But the evidence doesn’t lie. You intended to kill Terry that day. That’s why you’re being charged with attempted murder too. Quite frankly, Tennessee has a better chance than Ohio of making your murder charge for Dunkirk’s death stick. It wasn’t premeditated...hell, it probably was entirely an accident hitting and killing her, but an accidental death in the commission of a capital crime is still classified as a murder both here and there.”
Mel started to lead Sheila Ford away but, before they reached the door, Dingy Dale called out, “What about Terry, Sheriff? Where’s the charges for killing him? She had to have a hand in that, if she tried it before.”
Mel handed Sheila off to the deputy and he led her out. She turned back into the room and addressed Dingy politely, “Mr. Walters, we’re still looking into the death of Mr. Ford but, all indications are right now that his drowning was just an unfortunate accident. I’m sorry.”
I cleared my throat and stood, “It was no accident at all, Sheriff,” I called out from halfway across the room.
Faye stood up next to me, “She’s right Mel. Oh, Terry did drown but someone was there when he did and just let him die. That person is right here in this room and it isn’t Sheila Ford.”
Chaos erupted again at Faye’s pronouncement. Some people were shouting while others were looking around at their friends and neighbors wondering who might possibly have let a man die before their eyes. I watched as Mel and the man in the suit looked at each other in confusion.
Dana got up from her own group and walked over to us, fire in her eyes, “Mama, Faye; what you’re talking about is called negligent homicide. It’s a low level felony. You can’t just make an accusation like that without evidence to back it up.”
“Oh sweetie, we have evidence.”
My daughter looked at me hard then said, “I think you two better spill whatever you have to Mel, and do it now, but don’t say you haven’t been warned.”
I nudged Faye and, together, we moved a little closer to Mel. When I caught her attention again, I told her, “We have evidence Sheriff or, rather, it’s readily available for you to see for yourself.”
She nodded. “Go ahead then ladies, I’m listening.” Around her, everyone else started to settle back down to listen in again. The true purpose of the meeting was all but forgotten.
Faye and I looked at each other again then I plunged in, “There are multiple people in this room that had it in for Terry Ford for one reason or another. Some of you didn’t even bother with attending the man’s funeral, your disdain for him was so great.” I slowly walked around the room and first caught the eyes of Rich Johnson and his wife Amy in the finance committee group. I thought about saying something about them but the pained expression on Amy’s face made me think twice. Enough damage had been done there. I moved on.
Just milling around was Art Majors. I caught his eye too but he looked away quickly and went on about making himself a cup of coffee.
I moved around to the decorating committee grouping and looked right at Dale Walters.
He was unnerved and he jumped back up demanding, “Chloe, what on earth are you looking at me for?”
“You weren’t upset when Terry died, were you Dale?”
Dale hesitated to answer for a long time but then, sighing, he opened up; “No...I...I wasn’t.”
A gasp rose in the room.
“But I didn’t kill him! I wouldn’t have let him drown! There’s no way I could ever do anything like that.”
“I didn’t say you did Dale but I do think, perhaps you have a guilty conscience. You seem to hang around a bit in the area of Chuck’s pond. Were you there the day Terry drowned? Did you see anything? Do you care to explain why you spend so much time in the area?”
“I do fish but I don’t go to that pond to do it, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m not fond of blue gill at all and Chuck’s pond is full of them. I certainly wasn’t there they day Terry was there. For that matter, I didn’t even know he was there.” He looked a little scared and kept fidgeting. Grown men shouldn’t have any reason to fidget!
I didn’t respond; I just let him talk himself into a hole to fill in the awkward silence he’d created with his pause.
“Look Chloe...Faye...hell, Sheriff...it’s not what you think. Those carvings, the ca
rvings in my store...I tell everyone I do them but, actually, I don’t. I even have my wife believing I just go out to the woods to be alone and carve.” He turned to her and shot her a sheepish look. She pursed her lips and tried to control her emotions but her eyes shone with tears not yet ready to fall.
Dale sank back down in his chair and his shoulders slumped. “Honestly,” he said, “I trade groceries, tobacco and other items, including a little company from time to time...to an old man that lives out there alone in exchange for them. He does them.” He looked at his wife and then hung his head in shame.
I looked back at Faye. His confession wasn’t what we had suspected and I felt bad for what my prodding had wrought out of him. Almost cowed into relenting, I glanced over and saw Art smirking by the coffee station. It was time to get the truth.
Again I looked at Faye. Her confirming nod gave me the strength I needed and I pressed on.
“Why the smirk Mr. Majors?” I called to him, mustering the firmest voice I could. Did you honestly think someone wouldn’t figure it all out?”
“What on God’s green earth are you talking about woman?” he queried me as he tried to intimidate me with his glare.
“Don’t invoke the name of the Lord in front of a lie Mr. Majors. Tell us all, how long did you stand there that day watching Terry Ford drown?” Everyone in the room gasped again but I didn’t let up on him. “How long Art? And, how many times did you go back to the scene of your crime? I know it was at least once because we were there one of those times.” I pointed a finger between Faye and myself.
All eyes were on Art as his face reddened and he sputtered for a response.
“Come on Art, spill it. Did you push him in? Did you throw his bait in and laugh as he went after it? Did you steal that fishing reel you prized so much before or after he drowned?”
Majors lunged toward me. I backed up and then dodged but, before knew it Mel and the guy in the suit were wrestling with him.
After several long seconds that seemed like an eternity, he stopped struggling with them, stood straight, smoothed his shirt and spat at me, “You better watch who you’re accusing of what!”
“Or what Art;” Faye questioned him, “what will happen to her?”
He spun to shoot Faye the same intense look he’d been favoring me with. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about and neither do you. Yeah, I was out there the other day. I fish out there a lot; ain’t that right Chuck?” He scanned the finance grouping looking for Chuck Knox.
Chuck shook his head and said, “This is your fight Art. Why don’t you tell us all the truth?”
“I got nothin’ to say to any of you people. I’m out of here.”
“Whoa, not so fast buddy.” Mel put a hand out to stop him and the suited man with her jumped into his path. “Let’s hear them out and hear your side.”
“There’s no ‘side’ Sheriff. They don’t have any proof of anything because I didn’t do anything! Terry drowned. Everyone knows he couldn’t swim!”
Gathering my courage, I stepped over closer to him and looked him in the eye. “All the proof anyone needs that you were present at his death is in the back of your truck, Art.”
“What do you have in your truck, Mr. Majors?” Mel asked him.
“I...I don’t know...my fishing gear probably is all. Nothing like what she’s implying!”
“Your fishing gear?” I fired back. “Don’t you mean the creel basket that belonged to Terry Ford with the Abu Garcia fishing reel in it that you so coveted but he wouldn’t sell you? Were you so mad at Terry over the lost RV deal that, when he decided not to sell you the reel after all, you went over the edge? When you saw that reel in his basket out there that day, did it make you crazy?”
The veins in Art’s neck bulged, “That reel should have been mine all along!” he bellowed.
I have him! Everyone in the room looked startled but Faye and Mel. Mel moved to take Majors’ arm. Her sidekick quickly recovered when she turned to him, addressed him as Shane, and asked for his cuffs.
“You’re not cuffing me! I didn’t kill him. The dumb bastard went into the water to unsnag his line. He must have got out too far and got stuck or slipped or something. I don’t know! I didn’t stick around to find out. I admit I took the creel with the reel in it and I left. He was alive when I left; I swear!”
Primed now, I went for the jugular; “Is that really what happened? You just said ‘everyone knows he couldn’t swim’. Did he actually go into the water to retrieve the bait tub you threw in or did you throw it in the direction of the deeper part of the pond while he was out there?”
“That’s the second time you’ve brought up bait! I didn’t see any bait!”
Faye spoke up, “Nobody fishes without bait Art. Everyone knows that.”
I looked at Mel and Shane but said loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “The lid to the bait tub marked with that day’s date in black Sharpie is in the creel but there was no bait to be found out there.” In a softer voice, for only Mel and Shane to hear, I said, “The creel is in the bed of his pickup out in the lot beside Dana’s car.”
“You have the right to remain silent,” Mel recited as she cuffed him.
###
Mama Rossi
Late Wednesday Evening, October 21st, 2014
The Boar’s Head Bar
After the raucous community meeting turned fiasco, we all decided we needed a drink. Faye, Dana and I headed to the Boar’s Head.
The place wasn’t crowded which was what we’d hoped for on a Wednesday night. Barb happened to be there and she greeted us herself.
“Celebrating something ladies?” she asked.
Dana, smiling, answered her, “My mom and Faye just caused a little dust up at the community meeting and now they’re parched. After sitting through that whole scene, we thought maybe we could all use a little adult refreshment.”
“Will Mel and Jesse be along?” Barb looked between Faye and me for confirmation.
“Jesse’s probably already in bed,” Faye said, rolling her eyes.
“That’s probably a ‘no’ on Mel too. I texted her and invited her of course, but she’s the one that’s got to deal with the aftermath of the whole shooting match. She may be at the station for quite a while tonight,” Dana told Barb. Dana’s face was clearly pained at the thought of what Mel must be trying to sort through.
“Let me get you all your drinks and then I think you better fill me in.” Barb hustled back to the bar and reappeared rather quickly.
We spent the next half hour recounting all of both stories for Barb then we passed another half hour, as a group, working out a plan for me to make it back to work at the Fall Festival - if they would still have me after the negative sensation I’d caused tonight – and to work on decorating her new home. It was all shaping up to be an interesting holiday season.
A Crane Christmas
The Morelville Mysteries – Book 6
Anne Hagan
To Caesar, Alaska and Hayes...RIP
PUBLISHED BY:
Jug Run Press, USA
Copyright © 2015
https://annehaganauthor.com/
All rights reserved: No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed or given away in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without prior written consent of the author or the publisher except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages for review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are actual places used in an entirely fictitious manner and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1 – Newbie
Mel
Friday, November 28th, 2014
Muskingum County Sheriff’s Department
“Zanesville is my hometown. I’d be real happy to get back here finally; i
f you hire me that is, Sheriff.”
I mentally shook my head. The cop sitting in front of me didn’t lack for credentials but her confidence seemed to be a little off kilter. “Why don’t you tell me a little about your career, Mason? Your record here only covers your time with your current department.”
“Well, there isn’t a whole lot beyond that to tell, is why,” she said a little shyly. “I’m actually only 30.”
I felt my eyebrows rise involuntarily but I thought I quashed the expression quickly and masked my feelings.
Obviously a well-trained investigator, Janet Mason caught my surprised look anyway and laughed. Her chuckle erased some of the nervousness from her face and she relaxed a little.
Sitting up just a bit straighter but pushing herself farther back in her chair at the same time, she told me, “I grew up in Zanesville. Right after high school, I went to Zane State and got an associates in criminal justice. I was only 20 by the time I finished that though and I couldn’t get a job in law enforcement in Ohio...I couldn’t even get into OPOTA, sponsored or not.”
I nodded. I knew how all of that worked from my own, firsthand experience.
“Basically, I did they only thing I could do at the time to get police work, I joined the Army. I did my four years as a Military Police Officer and got out.”
“How’d you end up in Indiana instead of back here?”
“A, uh...buddy I served with was from Indy and convinced me to apply to Hancock County; said they needed more women on the department. My mom and I weren’t on the best of terms then anyway. I wasn’t ready to move back home, right then, so I took the plunge to be completely on my own.”
“And now?” At her puzzled look, I rephrased the question, “You’re ready to come home now?”
“I’ll be honest; my mom is sick...cancer, among other things...she can’t work anymore. She’s getting where she can’t do much of anything but get out of bed some days. Other days...well, she’s almost normal. I want to be back here for as many of those ‘almost normal’ days as I can be.”
