by Tina Anne
He looked at me with narrow eyes. “Go back to your hotel. I’ll come talk to you there when I need you,” Marlowe said.
“Fine, and you might want to get that photographer’s camera before he leaves,” I told Marlowe.
“Why?”
“Because, he has the photos of the hand being cut off and of Frankie digging around the body.” I wanted to end with, you idiot. But I didn’t.
“Oh, yeah?” was all Marlowe had to say.
With that he and Frank walked over to where they body was buried.
“What an idiot,” I said out loud.
“Mom, Marlowe has been very cooperative with us. He has given us full support in everything we asked of him. Please be nice to him,” Frankie said. No, Frankie pleaded with me.
I looked at Frankie and realized he was right. I needed to be nice to Marlowe. Not only was he an ally we needed, but he was the chief of the local police. And, apparently an old friend of Frank’s. I never was good at politics, though. Being nice to people just to get something in return was never my way. Probably why I never moved up in any company I worked for nor did anything with my Master’s Degree.
“Yes, Honey, I will be nice to the man for your sake. And for the park’s sake. Wait, I feel sorry for the lady and all, but will this affect our opening?”
“That’s my Mom. I’m going to guess that it will affect the garage, but not the rest of the park. We’ll continue on unless told otherwise.”
“Good. Who was she any way?”
“Mother, I don’t know and you need to stay out of it.”
“But Frankie, what if this stops us from opening? What if there is a killer on the loose and he kills again? What if people don’t want to come here because of this?”
“Mother, you don’t know anything about this. You’re making things up just like in the mystery books you read. Let’s go back to the hotel and wait for Marlowe. We’ll order pizza.”
Actually in the mystery books I read if the body was found at a business the business usually improves. What did Frankie know?
We got in to the limo and rode back to the hotel in silence. I couldn’t let go of my questions, though. Who was she? How would this affect the opening of my park?
Chapter 8: Marlowe’s on the job. Uh-oh.
Frankie and I sat on each of the beds in my room, ate the pizza that we had ordered and watched TV while we waited for Marlowe. We didn’t talk much. Frankie spent much of his time taping his phone. I wondered who he was talking to. Then again for all I knew he was shopping.
My mind kept wandering to the lady lying dead in my park. Who was she? Why was she there? Who would have possibly wanted to kill her? And why? I couldn’t imagine getting angry enough with someone to take their life. Hit them, yes. Take their life, no. Then again, maybe the killer didn’t mean to take her life. Maybe they just got angry at her.
Finally, several hours after Frankie and I had arrived, Marlowe showed up. He didn’t ask too many questions. He just wanted us to go over what happened at the ceremony today. He made one of us leave the room while he talked to the other. I wondered why, after all if Frankie and I wanted to confirm our stories or lie about anything we’d already had plenty of time to talk it over with each other.
Marlowe talked to Frankie first. I hated waiting in the hall, but I listened at the door as well as I could. Of course Frankie knew nothing more than I did. When Marlowe was done with him he went to his room. Then it was my turn to be questioned by Marlowe. I was not impressed by his questioning skills. I had had one hell of a shock; I almost passed out when I saw that severed hand laying there. But Marlowe was talking to me like I was the criminal. I wanted to yell at him, to ask him why he was being so mean to me. However, I figured just answering his questions would get him out of here sooner. When he was done grilling me, Marlowe took my phone number and he left.
I waited a few moments to make sure Marlowe was gone. Then I went down the hall to Frank’s room and knocked on his door. When he opened the door he just looked at me and sighed. “Misty, I can’t tell you anything.”
I went in to the room and closed the door. “Yes, you can. It’s not your case. And you’re here to help Frankie and I. This murder could really hurt us.”
“How do you know it’s a murder?” Frank asked.
“She was buried in a shallow grave. What did she do, trip and fall then cover herself up with dirt to stay warm?”
Frank just looked at me and shook his head. “No, it’s not my case, but I promised Marlowe I’d help him if he needed it. This new town you chose to live in has him as a police chief, eight officers, a part-time M.E., and a forensics lab that is about the same quality as the one Angela used for high school chemistry. They’re broke. A lot of their forensics work has to get sent to Jacksonville. Jacksonville has enough of their own crime to worry about. They won’t exactly make evidence from this small town a priority.”
“Frank, this could close my park. I’ll lose all my money. You’ll lose a ton of money. People will be out of work. My dreams will all go down the drain. I can’t let that happen. Please tell me what you know. I need to know. This affects me. It affects our son and his reputation.”
Frank looked at me. I knew I was getting to him. He could not stand the thought Frankie’s reputation being ruined. Nor did he like the thought of putting people out of work. And did he want to lose his money. He loved the thought of retiring early and spending all his time hunting and fishing. He let out a big sigh.
“Sit down, Misty,” he said gesturing to the chair.
I sat in the chair and waited. I’d broken him, but I could not push him. If I did he’d never tell me anything. Thirty years with the man had taught me at least that.
“They think her name was Barbara Neuspech.”
“They think?”
“Well, we couldn’t tell by looking at her.”
“Why not, Frank?”
“Take a guess?”
“Her face was unrecognizable?”
“Yeah, someone beat her pretty bad.” Even though he didn’t take his eyes off the floor I knew he was upset. Frank was not one to show much emotion, but he really got upset at any violence toward women and children.
“So how do they know who she was?” I asked.
“We were able to get her fingerprints from the hand you cut off.”
The memory of that turned my stomach. I laid my hand on it and waited for it to calm down. I went over what he said. That’s when her identity hit me.
“Oh my God. She was related to Adolf?”
“Apparently, she was his wife.”
“The one that disappeared?” I said.
“Yes. She left about a year ago.”
“She didn’t die a year ago. The body would have been a lot more decayed, right? She died recently. ”
He looked up at me. “You don’t know that. But, you’re right. Looks like she was killed in the last twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”
“Was she hit with a shovel? Is that why we were a shovel short this morning?”
Frank just nodded. “Preliminary results point in that direction. And none of the shovels at your ceremony today had blood on them. By the way, Marlowe’s keeping them as evidence.”
Why did I get angry any time I heard that man’s name? What was it about him that I disliked so much? Enough about him, what about Adolf’s wife, this Barbara?
“So, she came back from where ever she was hiding after she heard about the sale of the park,” I reasoned.”Or maybe because she heard that he was trying to sell the house and she wanted that money.”
“Was he trying to sell the house? Marlowe didn’t mention that. And how would you know?”
“Marlowe doesn’t know everything. I want to buy the house. He’s selling it for next to nothing, and it’s attached to the park,” I said.
“Don’t buy it.”
“Why not, Frank?”
“Just don’t buy it. No matter how cheap it is. It’s a bad idea.”
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“Why because a killer might live there? A killer might have stayed in these very rooms once. That’s not stopping me from staying here.”
“Yeah, I don’t want you living there.” Was Frank being concerned or was he trying to control what I did? I wasn’t sure.
“Well, unless you can find another place for me to live that isn’t rundown or unlivable, I am buying it.”
He piqued my curiosity. Frank never told me what to do unless there was the threat of danger or something bad happening to me. He might strongly suggest, but he never told me what to do. Well, he wouldn’t win this time; I really had little choice for where I was going to live. Besides, I really liked the place. And I had plans for it.
“Ok, so as I understand it,” I said, “her name is not on the deed to the park or the house. In his parents will only the eldest male could own the house. Maybe they didn’t trust her.”
“Eldest? Are you quoting one of your British novels?” Frank asked.
I brushed this aside. “She had to have known that. Why’d she come back, Frank? And who did she talk to?”
“Misty, stop.”
“Then again, maybe she didn’t know he’d sold the park to us for a dollar. Maybe she thought Adolf got a lot more for it.”
“Misty, Marlowe is a good man. He’ll find the killer. Stay out of it and let him do his job. You’ve never been involved in something like this and you’re not going to start now.”
He was starting to give orders. I don’t do orders, especially now that we weren’t married any more.
“Like I said, Frank, this affects my business, my money, and my family. I’m already involved.” My heart was pounding. Was I really saying that to Frank? Wow.
Frank opened his mouth to speak, but thankfully we were interrupted by someone pounding on the door. “Mom, Dad, they just arrested Jerome for the murder. Open the door,” Frankie yelled.
“What!” I jumped up, opened the door and let Frankie in. “What do you mean they arrested Jerome? Is that Marlowe guy an idiot? Jerome wouldn’t kill anyone?”
“Marcella just called and told me. She’s a wreck. Apparently Jerome’s alibi is shaky and the victim hated him. She tried to get him fired several times.”
“We gotta go talk to him,” I said.
“Misty, stay out of it,” Frank said. “Let Marlowe handle it.”
“I’ll drive,” Frankie said. Frankie and I left Frank there barking out orders. We went to the police station to talk to Jerome and the idiot Chief Marlowe Campion.
We pulled up to what looked like an old office building. It was about four stories high. Very nondescript and not in very good shape, in fact at home I never would have went in there.
“Are you sure this is it?” I asked Frankie.
“That’s the address they give on the website,” he responded, although he didn’t look sure. “I mean shouldn’t there be some sort of sign outside?”
“You would think. Well, let’s go in. If we’re wrong, maybe someone can give us directions.”
We got out of the car and walked inside. The inside was in need of a paint job and new carpeting. And the building just had that old smell to it. On the wall across from the door there was a directory. It listed the different offices that were in the building.
Frankie read them out loud, “Fishing License. Marriage License. Driver’s License. Dentist?”
We looked at each other and he continued, “There it is, Police. Room 118.”
We walked down the hall to room 118. It simply said police on the door, as if someone had stenciled it there years ago, meaning to replace it later and then forgot about it. When we opened the door Marlowe was standing there at the desk talking to one of the officers. He turned to greet us, but did not smile or even remotely look happy.
“Hello, Mr. Summer, Mrs. Summer. What can we do for you?” he said.
Wow, just seeing him made my blood boil. I’d never reacted to another human being like this before. What was going on?
“You can let Jerome go,” I said.
“Mom,” Frankie said.
“Excuse me?” Marlowe said. He looked angry, I didn’t care. I was angry.
“You arrested an innocent man. Let him go,” I said again. Frankie just looked at me and muttered something like, “Oh, God,” under his breath.
“I arrested him based on the evidence,” Marlowe said.
“What evidence?” I demanded.
“None of your business,” he said.
“You don’t have any evidence. You arrested him because you had no one else to charge.”
“He has no alibi for the night of the murder.”
“Which night? Was she killed last night or the night before?”
“Last night. Otherwise some of your construction guys would have found her when they were placing those little flags everywhere. There were some near the body.”
“What else,” I demanded.
“He has a history of violence. It is known that he and the deceased did not get along with each other.”
“Known by whom?”
“People I talked to.”
“That’s circumstantial. Where’s your proof?”
“We’re working on it?”
“You’re working on it! Did you find the murder weapon?” I was smiling because I knew he didn’t.
“It’s only a matter of time,” Marlowe said.
Famous last words, I thought.
“You searched the area where we found the body. You searched Jerome’s house and car. And you did not find the murder weapon?”
“I’m not telling you anything more,” he said. “Go home, please.”
“You don’t have to tell me, I already know. Who do you think helped Frank with all those damn classes?” I said. “I’m not as dumb as you think I am. What’s his bail?”
“There isn’t one.”
“Why the hell not? That doesn’t make any sense.” I thought Frank said Marlowe was good. I was now questioning my ex-husband’s judgment.
Marlowe walked over to me and looked me straight in the face. “I said go home.”
“And I said why doesn’t he have bail yet?” If he wanted kick me out or arrest me, he could have, but I wasn’t giving up that easily. I liked Jerome and Marcella. I wasn’t giving up on them.
Marlowe paused; I could swear I heard him counting to ten under his breath. I got the feeling that nobody confronted him like I just had. I was so angry I was shaking. I didn’t realize it until just now. I hoped I don’t pass out. That would be embarrassing.
“Because we only have two judges here,” Marlowe finally said. “One is on vacation and the other is done for the day and won’t be back until tomorrow morning.”
“I’m sorry, but this is a special circumstance. Shouldn’t you call the judge back here for it?”
“You are something else. I can see why your marriage to Frank didn’t work. I feel sorry for the guy; he had to put up with you for almost thirty years?” Marlowe said.
“Don’t talk to my mother like that,” Frankie said. “She put up with a lot.”
Marlowe’s face turned red, he looked at Frankie and clenched his jaw. Uh-oh, not good. I turned and faced Frankie.
“Frankie, let’s go. We’ll be back in the morning for the hearing.” I turned to Marlowe, “what time would that be?”
“Eight o’clock,” He snarled.
“And where will it be?” Not here I hoped.
“At the court house, look it up,” Marlowe said through his clenched jaw.
I took Frankie by the hand and pulled him out of the office. I led the way back to the car. I opened the passenger door for Frankie and I got in the driver’s side. Once we were inside I turned toward him.
“Thank you, my son, for your chivalry, but it does us no good if you get arrested. I really thought you were going to punch him.”
“I wanted to,” Frankie said still breathing hard.
“Right now we need to help Jerome. I need you to calm
down. Do you know any criminal lawyers?”
“Yeah. A couple.”
“Any who can work in the state of Florida?”
“I’ll make some calls.” He got out his phone and started tapping on it. I thought he said he would call? Sometimes I wondered if we spoke the same language.
“Good. First call Marcella and tell her we’re stopping by to see her.”
“We are? Why?”
“First, she’s probably upset and could use a visit from a friendly face. Second, I want information. Marlowe is an idiot; I don’t care what your father says. He’s never going to solve the crime and I can’t let Jerome hang for this.”
“Mom, they don’t hang people anymore.”
“Well whatever they do. Besides, I don’t want Marcella and the kids to have to live the rest of their lives thinking Jerome is a murderer. What a burden for them.”
“Gotcha. Follow the GPS to their house and I’ll start making phone calls.”
I followed the GPS to Jerome and Marcella’s house, with one little exception. I made a stop on the way. I bought some pens and a couple of notebooks. I also threw several food items in to the cart.
“Mom, why?” Frankie asked.
“Why what?”
“Well, first, why the notebooks?”
“Because we are going to ask questions, take notes, and clear Jerome. Those kids will not think their Daddy was a murderer.”
“OK. I get that. Why the food?” he asked.
“I don’t know. It’s for them. I feel like I should be bringing a casserole or something. I think that’s what my mother would have done.”
“I’m not sure the occasion calls for it.”
“Really, there’s no written etiquette about what to bring to someone when their husband is arrested for murder? Imagine that?”
Chapter 9: Who Done It? Let’s Make a List.
As we drove I wondered where what type of neighborhood we were going to. The quality of the houses and cars got worse as we went. There wasn’t any graffiti or trash on the ground or anything like that. But you could tell the residents here did not make much money. Suddenly I was very conscious of my somewhat expensive car, clothing, and jewelry. I wasn’t sure if I felt afraid or like I stood out or if I felt guilty for never having to worry about money. I’d never been in a neighborhood like this in my entire life and I didn’t like it.
