Winter was the slow time of year at the lake, but even then, Patterson made a few dollars thanks to the money from permanent residents like Melissa and a couple of other guests. They paid a monthly discounted rate but were responsible for cleaning and maintaining their own rooms. That saved Bruce a tidy sum in laundry and maid service, soap, and toilet tissue.
In addition to his permanent residents, there were two other working girls like Melissa who used his motel as an in-call location for their clients. He let those girls have their rooms for half price, with the understanding that each of their customers would have to pay the full rate. On a good day, Patterson might rent the same room a half dozen times or more. He didn’t view it as a scam—just good business. There was no real law enforcement presence in Shenandoah County other than the state cops who did little more than hand out speeding tickets. Bruce provided a safe haven for consenting adults seeking mature entertainment and companionship. He deserved to be compensated for offering such a service.
Patterson knew how fortunate he was. His parents had built and managed the motel during its heyday, before all the condominiums, marinas, golf courses, and million-dollar lakefront homes that now dotted the five hundred miles of shoreline. Bruce had grown up on the premises and learned the hospitality business from the ground up. When his parents retired, they left him with a property that was debt-free and thriving. The motel was still debt-free and, if not exactly thriving, was at least profitable. He had fended off more than a few attractive offers from real estate developers eager to tear down the motel and build yet another condominium complex.
Patterson didn’t really need the money, and he had nowhere else to go. He had never married and hadn’t been in a steady relationship since high school. He wasn’t handsome, young, witty, powerful, or particularly smart. Sure, he made a decent living, but what self-respecting woman would want to live in a small, third-rate motel? Melissa or one of the other girls was available to him when he needed relief. The motel was his life. The thought of leaving it behind scared him to death.
He glanced at his watch and sighed. It was Monday and time for his weekly visit with his father at Passages Assisted Living. His parents had purchased a two-bedroom unit ten years ago. Bruce’s mother had succumbed to breast cancer in 2014, and his dad had been going downhill since then. Bruce would fix them both an early lunch, and they would talk for a while. If he was lucky, his father would remember who he was.
Bruce closed the office door behind him and locked it. He had never hired anyone to cover for him when he was out because he rarely left the premises. Other than the single housekeeper he employed, his was a one-man operation.
He thought about Melissa Wright as he drove. With any luck, she would be back before the month was out, and he could still collect some rent money for January. It had been a week since their last session, and Bruce felt the need to see her again. He had money in his pocket, and his dad’s apartment was next door to the addiction center. He would fix them lunch and then encourage his father to go downstairs to the common room to watch afternoon television and visit with the other residents. Then he would see if Miss Melissa was interested in making a fast hundred bucks in exchange for a little afternoon delight.
Patterson smiled as he turned off the road and entered the Passages property. He was feeling good. Soon, he would feel even better.
* * * *
Salem tossed a shovelful of snow over his shoulder and groaned. His back already ached, and the parking lot wasn’t close to being done. At least he had cleared snow away from the store entrance and put down rock salt. He looked up as a truck pulled into the parking lot. Randi Lane lowered the passenger side window.
“I’m on my way back to the house. Do you need me to take anything to Krista?”
Salem shook his head and peered at the person in the driver’s seat. “Who’s that large black man with you? I hope you’re not being held against your will.”
“This large black man is the answer to your prayers,” Anderson said. “Did you forget we have a snow blower at the campground?”
“I figured you’d be using it. I don’t want any of our campers to be stuck if they need to get out.”
“Already done,” Anderson said. “I went out about three this morning and started clearing the lot and walkways. I knew you’d need it later. Man, that thing is a hog. It blasted through the snow like a chainsaw going through a stick of butter.”
Salem laughed. “Perfect. I’ll go pick it up. Listen, can you come to supper? Something happened at the house last night. I think we need to talk about it.”
“I’ll be there,” Anderson said. “You want me to call Callie?”
“Yeah, but tell her not to worry about coming if the roads are too bad on her side of the lake. I’ll talk to her tomorrow if she can’t make it.”
Salem tossed his shovel in the trunk and climbed in the car. The campground was less than a five-minute drive from the store. He saw Hannah Falls heading for the camp store as he drove into the parking lot.
“You’re not opening the store today, are you?” he called.
She shook her head. “We’ve got a sign posted on the door telling people to see me or Anderson if they need anything. I’m buying some snacks for Raymond. He’s grumpy as a bear with all this snow.”
Salem laughed. “I guess he hates being stuck in the cabin.”
“Oh, he’s not in the cabin. He’s down at the water, fishing as usual. Can you believe it? If he catches anything, I’ll have to thaw it out before we can eat it.”
He retrieved the snow blower from the equipment shed and headed back to the store. Anderson was right—the blower was almost as good as having a truck with a snow blade. Actually, it was probably better for the stores and campground. Snow blades worked better on roads and larger parking lots where there was plenty of room to maneuver.
Less than two hours later, he was done. Salem put the blower in the car and grabbed a drink and two sandwiches from the store. With any luck, he could finish clearing the lot at the new store and make it home in time to do the driveway before the sun went down.
Salem ate the sandwiches as he drove. He pulled over at a convenience store near the bridge and called Krista. “I invited Anderson to supper. Callie’s coming, too, if she can get out. I’m worried about those footprints. I think we need to talk it out.”
“That’s fine,” Krista said. “I’ve got plenty of hot dogs, spaghetti, chips, and sweet tarts. I’ll tell Daddy when he gets home. Oh, Callie already called and asked if she could bring Olivia. That’s her new girlfriend. I told her it was fine.”
“All right, and before I forget, don’t worry about clearing the driveway. I’ve got the snow blower with me. Is anything else going on?”
“Anderson is helping Monday build a snowman. Henry’s helping, too. You need to make a big fuss about it when you get home.”
Salem laughed. “Henry is actually helping?”
“He’s mostly supervising,” Krista said. “They’re building it right next to his spot. He’s been to the bathroom twice just since I picked up the phone. I’ve got to run. Randi’s taking Anderson outside to see the snowman. I want to get a picture of him with his namesake.”
Salem finished eating and drove out of the parking lot. The snow on the roads was packed, but the sun was starting to melt it in a few spots. He was disappointed but not surprised that the county had failed to deploy their snowplows. Shenandoah County had closed their sheriff’s department and couldn’t even provide garbage pickup. Why should they bother with snow removal?
The snow in the parking lot at the new store was soft and wet. The store faced east and received the full force of the morning and early afternoon sun until it slipped behind the mountains.
Salem worked quickly and was finished by mid-afternoon. He would be home by four, enough time to do the driveway before dark unless another storm system moved in.
As he turned onto the road that led to his house, Salem reduced his speed
and scanned the woods on both sides. The person outside his house last night had owned a car, but they had approached his property through the woods. Maybe they had left something behind—a scarf, a glove, trash…anything at all.
He lowered the windows and sniffed the air for the smell of smoke. A person couldn’t stay outside for long in a blizzard like the one last night without a campfire or some other source of heat.
A few minutes later, Salem turned into his driveway without having seen or smelled any evidence of the trespasser’s presence. He was surprised to see Callie had already arrived.
Everyone was seated at the long dining room table when he walked through the door.
“It’s a little early for supper, isn’t it?”
Nobody smiled.
Salem looked at Anderson. “What’s wrong?”
“We’ve got a problem.”
Salem waited as Anderson cleared his throat and got to his feet.
“I found a body.”
Chapter 6
“What?”
Anderson nodded.
“You remember the homeless camp where Teddy and the others used to live before Dodd cleared everyone out?”
Salem slumped into a chair. That particular memory was permanently seared into his brain. Teddy had played an important role in identifying a killer that had been terrorizing the entire community. The camp where Teddy and a few others had lived was located in the woods on state-owned land just down the road from his campground.
“What were you doing down there?” Salem asked.
“I visit the spot a couple of times a week,” Anderson said. “I don’t know, I guess I actually miss Teddy and the others, even though they were always trying to panhandle or go through our dumpster. I also like to keep an eye on that place. You and I aren’t the only ones who know about it. I don’t want to be caught by surprise if some new people decide to move into the neighborhood. Anyway, that’s where I found the body.”
Salem looked around the table. “All right, Anderson and I will go to the camp and try to figure out what to do about the dead person. The rest of you go ahead and eat whenever you want. Krista can tell you about the trespasser we had last night.”
“I’ll drive,” Anderson said as they stepped outside. “Tell me about this trespasser.”
Salem described the fresh footprints in the snow Krista had noticed and his discovery that the person had circled the house, either looking for a point of entry or attempting to observe activity inside the house.
“Getting everyone to the safe room until you had a chance to assess the threat was the right move,” Anderson said.
“Yeah, but I’m still kicking myself for not doing some reconnaissance while I was outside. I knew he had come in through the woods and was probably still out there somewhere. My God, if I had just walked up the driveway I would have spotted his car.”
Anderson shook his head. “You did the most important thing, man…protecting your family. If this guy was still watching the house and saw you tromping up the driveway or through the woods, he could have circled back around and broken into the house through Bo’s bedroom window. It was dark, and with the way the snow was flying and the wind was blowing, you wouldn’t have seen or heard a thing. Krista wouldn’t have heard him either.”
“Well, at least I know he was driving a car, so it couldn’t have been a young kid messing around,” Salem said.
Anderson shrugged. “Maybe, but how do you know the person driving the car was the trespasser? It could have been a two-man job, or it could have just been someone who made a wrong turn and got lost. Or maybe the guy in the car was following your trespasser for some reason, and then killed him. The body I found at the camp could be the same person who was outside your house.”
Salem laughed. “If you ever get tired of managing the campground, you’d make a great police detective or FBI agent. I’m surprised Dodd hasn’t tried to steal you away.”
“I’m the brains, and you’re the muscle,” Anderson said. “We’re a team.”
It was an old joke that held more than a thread of truth. Anderson had four inches and fifty pounds on Salem, but there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Anderson would come out on the short end in a physical altercation with Salem. They had served in the same Special Forces unit, and Salem had pulled Anderson out of the fire many times. They were both decorated combat veterans, but only one of them stood alone at the top among the small, elite fraternity of men who had served their country as members of a Special Forces team. Everyone knew the name Salem Matthews.
Anderson turned into the campground and parked the truck. The road leading to the camp was narrow, and there was no good place to turn around. “I think it’s better if we walk in. Do you want a gun? I don’t know if this guy was killed, or if he just got lost and froze to death.”
“I’ll pass on the gun,” Salem said. “Let’s just go slow and keep our eyes open…Basic Recon one-oh-one. When we get there, I’ll let you check the body first. If it’s one of our campers, you’ll be more likely to recognize them.”
The darkness closed in as they moved into the woods. Streaks of orange, yellow, and purple smeared the sky as the sun dipped below the mountains on the other side of the lake. They were running out of daylight.
“There it is,” Anderson said.
The body was sprawled in the middle of a clearing next to the spot where the camp’s fire pit used to be. Salem looked around the area while Anderson examined the corpse.
“He’s not one of our guests, thank God,” Anderson said. “That’s the good news. The bad news is that this is a murder scene. Somebody caved in the back of this guy’s head, probably with a tire iron or a baseball bat.”
Salem walked over and took a look at the body. “I don’t recognize him either. We might as well check his pockets for identification. It looks to me like the murder occurred somewhere else. The snow is undisturbed except for our footprints. I don’t see any signs of a struggle, torn clothes, cigarette butts, candy wrappers, nothing at all. The killer dumped the body here.”
Anderson pulled a wallet from the victim’s pocket. “According to this driver’s license, his name is Arthur Stack. He is, excuse me, he was forty-one years old and has an address in Danville.”
Salem took out his phone and snapped a photo of the license. Maybe Krista or Callie would recognize the man’s name or picture. It didn’t make sense that a guy from Danville would be at the lake in January.
“What’s he doing up here in the middle of a blizzard?”
Anderson shrugged. “Maybe he owns a condo or second home on the water and wanted to celebrate New Year’s Eve here with a wife or girlfriend.”
Salem sent the picture to Krista’s phone while Anderson continued his search. Stack’s other pockets were empty except for some loose change, but a white sheet of paper was trapped under his left leg.
“What is it?” Salem asked.
“It’s a Bible verse from Leviticus 18:22. ‘You shall not be with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination.’” Anderson continued to study the paper. “This was done on a typewriter, if you can believe that, and I see two places where the typist used White-Out to correct mistakes. It’s signed by The Committee for Morality and Decency.”
“Perfect,” Salem said. “That sounds like a collection of tight-assed lunatics. I think we should call Dodd. This group could be on the FBI’s watch list.”
Anderson placed the call while Salem continued to look around the site.
“He’s not answering,” Anderson said. “I almost forgot it’s a holiday. I sent him a text.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Salem said. “There’s nothing more we can do. I don’t want to notify the state cops. They’ll just remove the body and ask a lot of stupid questions. We need Dodd on this one. Stack’s not going anywhere.”
Anderson kept checking his phone as they headed back to the truck. “This isn’t like Dodd. He’s never off duty.”
Salem shrugged.
“It’ll keep until tomorrow. There’s no risk of decomposition or animals attacking the body in this weather, and you’ve got the wallet and typed note. That’s the only evidence on the scene. We’ll turn it over to Dodd or his team when they get in touch.”
They reached the truck and headed back to the house in silence. The note under the dead man’s body cast the previous night’s events in a more serious light. Was there a connection between the trespasser and Arthur Stack? Stack had been murdered. Did that mean the trespasser was a member of The Committee for Morality and Decency?
Salem glanced over at Anderson. “The trespasser could have been trying to kill me or someone in my family.”
Anderson nodded. “It’s a possibility. Jesus, I wish Dodd would call me back.”
The house was straight ahead. Anderson tapped the brakes and turned into the driveway.
“I’m starved. Let me eat a few hot dogs and then we’ll talk about it.”
Krista had left the side porch light on. Anderson got out of the truck and started for the steps. Salem grabbed him from behind and pulled him to the ground.
“Something’s wrong,” he whispered. “Stay down.”
Roy Dodd stepped out of the shadows.
Chapter 7
“Holy crap, Dodd, I thought you were a ghost!”
The FBI agent laughed and shook Anderson’s hand. “It’s a good thing you had Salem with you, man. I got your text. We need to talk.”
“How did you get here so fast?” Salem asked.
“Two of my agents and I are set up in a condo right down the road. They dropped me off here on the way to the crime scene. Just out of curiosity, how did you know I was here? You couldn’t have seen me.”
Salem shrugged. “I could feel you.”
The agent nodded. “I’ll have to work on that. Maybe I’ll take you with me the next time I’m invited to Little Creek to speak to a new class of SEALs.
Pieces of January Page 4
