Pieces of January

by Ronald Paxton

  Monday nodded as she chewed on a ketchup-soaked chip. “I’m playing with Henry, Diva, and Anderson.”

  “I thought Diva was a cheater,” Anderson said.

  Monday shook her head. “Not anymore…Grandpa Bo told her she had to play fair. She’s still not a very good player. Anderson cheats sometimes, but not on purpose. I’m still teaching him how to count.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the food was on the buffet. Monday sat on the floor across the room, counting out Monopoly money.

  Salem waited until everyone had their plate and had started eating. “I don’t want to ruin anybody’s supper, but we need to get started. Callie just received some disturbing news we all need to hear.”

  Callie swallowed some chips and looked around the table. “Olivia called me just before I got here. Tommy Sale kidnapped her and threatened to kill her with a baseball bat. She was terrified when I talked to her.”

  “So, she was able to get away?” Bo asked.

  Callie nodded. “Olivia jumped out of his car at a red light and ran. Tommy chased her, but she hid in the women’s bathroom at a convenience store. He doesn’t know where she lives, so I think she’ll be all right. She called the police and gave them a description of Tommy and the car he was driving.”

  Bo frowned. “I’m glad Olivia’s okay, Callie, but who is Tommy Sale and what does he have to do with us?”

  “Tommy’s the drummer and co-founder of Mama’s Biscuits. He didn’t take it well when Olivia left the band. She believes he could be our killer. It makes sense when you think about it. A baseball bat is the type of blunt force weapon that could have killed the others.”

  “That’s pretty thin, Callie,” Jay said.

  Callie shook her head. “The killer was a man, according to Finn. He would have needed to be reasonably strong to kill the two women and to drag the first victim through the woods to the homeless camp. Tommy’s young and fit from playing drums. He didn’t have a day job that would have kept him from intercepting Melissa on her way home and killing her.”

  Jay nodded. “That’s true. Now that I think about it, there was always something that seemed a little off about Tommy. He was a good-looking dude in a rock band, but I never saw him with a girl or even another guy, for that matter.”

  “Exactly,” Callie said. “I never even saw him hit on anyone. Maybe he was just into hookers, like some kind of fetish. It’s possible Donna and Melissa refused to do something he wanted, and Tommy decided to get even. Remember, the first victim was gay. Olivia and I are gay. I can see Tommy as a sexually confused loner who expends his repressed rage and frustration on people he views as sexual deviates. Hookers and gay people would certainly meet his criteria.”

  “What about the notes with the Bible verses?” Jay asked. “Tommy never seemed like a religious person to me.”

  “He probably isn’t,” Callie said. “The notes could be misdirection on his part. Nobody would associate a rock musician with Bible verses.”

  Randi cleared her throat. “Callie, this guy left you one of those notes at the condo. It’s not safe for you there, not until the cops catch him. We’ve got an extra bedroom. You can stay with me and Anderson until this is over.”

  “Absolutely,” Anderson said, “But you don’t have to stay in the guest room. I’ve got a large bed. There’s enough room for three people.”

  “That’s tempting, Anderson, but I’ve already accepted Salem’s offer to stay here. There’s plenty of room, and I can help Bo patrol the property.”

  Salem jotted down some notes on a legal pad. “All right, Anderson, I need you to notify Dodd about Tommy Sale. Maybe the FBI can help the Nashville cops and the Tennessee state police locate this guy. Callie, tell us what you found out from your visit to Passages.”

  She swallowed the last bite of her hot dog and drank some water. “You’re going to love this. Now that I’ve made the case for Tommy Sale as the killer, I’ve got at least two more possible suspects for you.”

  Callie described her meeting with Jack Fowler and the director’s creepy behavior. She told them about her encounter with Hal Morris and his confession that Grace Hanes had been the person supplying cocaine for Melissa.

  “That’s my fault,” Anderson said. “I should have gone with you. I can still contact Dodd and have that son of a bitch arrested for attempted rape.”

  “I appreciate the thought, Anderson, but you and Salem were busy with Davis Lord. It actually worked out better this way. If you had been with me, I never would have met Morris or gotten the scoop on Hanes.”

  Salem made a note on his pad and looked at Callie. “What’s your take on this?”

  Callie paused to gather her thoughts.

  “I don’t think Fowler is the killer, but I think there’s a good chance he knows who is. He’s covering his own ass and the reputation of Passages. I think both Hal Morris and Grace Hanes belong on our suspects list. I know Finn Watson said it was a man, but keep in mind that he never saw the person’s face. He might also have some reason to lie that we don’t know about. Grace Hanes had the day off on the morning Melissa was killed. Even if someone had seen her, they wouldn’t have given her presence on the grounds a second thought. She’s a nurse, so we know she has strength and stamina from being on her feet all day and working with patients. I think her motive had to be money. If it was murder-for-hire, I think Tommy might have dipped into his trust fund and paid her to kill all three victims.”

  Salem nodded. “What about Hal Morris?”

  “He’s got psychosexual problems, and he’s already assaulted and attempted to rape me. Morris seems to have less impulse control than a five-year-old on Christmas morning. He’s not working, and the staff I talked to basically admitted they don’t monitor the daily movements of their patients. Hal was the one who discovered Melissa’s body. That may not have been a coincidence. He’s also lost his job, so the murder-for-hire theory works even better for him than it does for Grace Hanes.”

  Salem glanced at Anderson. “Did you get all that?”

  Anderson nodded. “I’ll give Dodd the details. So far, we’ve got three murder suspects and one possible accessory suspect.”

  “Actually, that number is four,” Salem said. “Anderson and I spent an interesting day searching Davis Lord’s church and interviewing his daughter. That’s right. Lord has a daughter, believe it or not. She’s a nice black woman who lives in the trailer park next to Billy’s Bar. I’ll let Anderson tell you the rest.”

  The room grew quiet as Anderson described the contents of Lord’s notes for a sermon he had found in the pulpit and the virtually empty office and kitchen except for the beer in the refrigerator.

  “God, that sounds so lonely,” Krista said. “I almost feel sorry for him.”

  Salem snorted. “Don’t waste your pity on Lord. That’s the life he chose. His daughter said he owns a typewriter, but she didn’t remember what kind.”

  “Dodd has a man watching him,” Anderson said. “The notes, the arrangement of his office, Lord’s estrangement from an out-of-wedlock daughter he conceived with a black woman, all suggest a bitter, reclusive individual capable of almost anything.”

  “I hope Dodd is turning Lord’s house upside down,” Bo said. “Especially if he owns a typewriter.”

  Anderson shook his head. “He doesn’t have ground for a warrant because the information I got from the church wasn’t legally obtained. The only information that isn’t tainted is the daughter’s statement that Lord owns a typewriter. Dodd definitely considers him a suspect, but all he can do for now is put him under surveillance.”

  Randi shook her head. “I don’t know…Lord seems kind of old for this. How would he have the strength and stamina to pull it off?”

  “Davis isn’t that old,” Bo said. “He’s probably sixty, and he put in a lot of years at the mill. That kind of hard physical work will either break a man or make him stronger. He’s also retired, so he could arrange the killings at his own pace and get whatever rest he
needed before moving on to the next victim.”

  Salem glanced at his father-in-law. “What did you find out from your visit with Missy?”

  “I learned Missy and Melissa were friends and sometimes worked together whenever a client wanted to see two girls. She did say Melissa called from Passages to tell her someone assaulted and tried to kill her. Missy said Melissa didn’t get a look at the person’s face and wasn’t sure if it was a man or woman. I think that bolsters the case for Grace Hanes as a suspect, particularly since Hanes was the one who found her after the attack. She could have been trying to control the situation and deflect suspicion from herself.”

  Salem nodded. “Did she say anything else?”

  “No, that’s about it,” Bo said. “She lives in a trailer at the back of someone’s property. I told her she was in danger and convinced her to move into a room at the motel until this was over. I know the motel isn’t exactly a fortress, but at least Bruce Patterson lives on site and there are a few other guests there, even in January.”

  Salem got to his feet. “All right, I guess that’s it. We’ve got our suspects, and Anderson will bring Dodd up to date. Lord is under surveillance, and law enforcement is looking for Tommy Sale.” He looked at Krista. “See what you can dig up on Hal Morris and Grace Hanes. A picture and address are the most important things. Anderson and I can take it from there.”

  The meeting broke up, and Salem walked Callie out to her car.

  “I’ll ride with you to the condo and wait for you to pack. No need to take any chances in case Sale is stupid enough to come back home.”

  They rode most of the way in silence.

  “We’ve got four good suspects,” Callie said. “I think we’re getting close, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Salem said.

  “Dodd and the cops are on Lord and Tommy, and you and Anderson are going to sit on Hanes and Morris. There’s no way out for them, is there?”

  “No,” Salem said.

  Callie turned into the condominium complex and parked in front of her unit. She cut the engine and stared straight ahead. “It could be someone else entirely, somebody we haven’t thought of or don’t even know. The killer could be a complete stranger. We could be back at square one and not even realize it until it’s too late.”

  “Yes,” Salem said.

  Chapter 29

  “You scared the crap out of me, Bo. What are you doing here so early? The store’s not even open yet.”

  “This is your first morning here on your own, Anderson. I figured I’d better be available to back you up in case Jay hasn’t finished teaching you everything he knows.”

  Anderson smiled. “I appreciate it, Bo. Were you planning to back me up from the storage closet?”

  Bo laughed. “I thought I would go through some of my old financial records while I was here. The sale of that Adler J-Five typewriter is still bugging me. I remember selling it, but I can’t remember who bought it. Anyway, we don’t have records going back that far.”

  “That was always a real long shot, Bo. Whoever bought it probably got rid of it twenty years ago. Even if by some miracle it’s still around, the chances that our killer owns your typewriter is probably one in a million.”

  Bo shook his head. “It’s still a loose end, and it’s driving me crazy.”

  Anderson stared at him. “Who was your accountant back then? Maybe they still have those records in storage or in a computer file.”

  “Herman Day did my books and taxes,” Bo said. “He died ten years ago. He was a sole practitioner, so any records he had would have died with him.”

  “What about his wife?” Anderson asked. “She might have kept them in the attic or a storage shed.”

  “That’s a good thought, Anderson, but Ruth died a few years before Herman. He never re-married.”

  Anderson thought for a moment. “Your accountant would have filed state and federal tax returns for you, right?”

  Bo nodded.

  “Okay, call Krista and see if there’s any chance of getting copies of your returns from the IRS and the state commissioner of revenue’s office for that period. If it’s possible to do it, she’ll know how.”

  “God, that’s brilliant Anderson!”

  “Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath. I doubt if it’s possible, but it’s worth a call to Krista. If you’re serious about backing me up, I could use you on the front register for an hour or so. Jay and I have run the morning reports together and covered the checklist items for opening, so I think I’m okay.”

  “But it’ll be easier if you don’t have to worry about the front in case it takes you a little longer until you get the hang of it,” Bo said. “Consider it done.”

  Bo thought about the typewriter on his way up to the register. A good long-term memory was a wonderful thing until it wasn’t. He remembered selling the damn thing because it was kind of a big deal that marked the end of an era for the store as it transitioned to a more modern computerized system. So why couldn’t he remember who bought it?

  Never mind…it’ll either come to me, or it won’t. I’ll call Krista when I leave the store. She can tell me about the chances of getting the tax records.

  The time passed quickly. The few customers who trickled in were delighted to see an old friend and the founder of Carson’s General Store manning the register. He no longer kept regular hours at the store since age and injuries had robbed him of the strength, stamina, and mobility to be of much use on the sales floor.

  I’ve been a fool. I’m helping Anderson this morning. I still have my mind and my experience. I can be a store greeter, if nothing else. Henry and I can work together.

  Erin came in, along with another girl Bo didn’t know. He gave up his stool behind the register and walked back to the office. Anderson was going through some e-mails.

  “The cavalry has arrived. Erin and Nina are out front. I’ll see you later.”

  “Thanks, Bo. Could you tell Erin I need her back here? We’ve got a truck on the way.”

  He relayed the message to Erin on his way out the door. It was another cold day, but the sky was clear, and the wind was manageable. February was less than a week away. Bo always thought of February as the beginning of spring, despite the fact that the weather was usually still in the icy grip of winter. Business at the store started to pick up a bit on the weekends. He could feel the period of hibernation coming to an end. A few fishing boats could always be seen out on the water toward the end of the month.

  Bo sat in his car and called Krista. She told him neither the state nor the IRS would have returns going back that far. In any event, the tax return would only have the typewriter on a form listing the sale of the store’s depreciable furniture and equipment. There would be no reason to identify the purchaser.

  He started the car and thought about what to do next. Callie was doing a sweep of the property this morning since she didn’t have to be at work until noon. He would do a second sweep later this afternoon. Maybe Missy would like some company. He needed to check on her, anyway.

  Bo dialed her number and waited. A moment later, he hung up and drove out of the parking lot. He had a date.

  * * * *

  Missy opened the door and smiled. Despite the weather, she wore only a black tank top and matching panties.

  “You look good enough to eat,” Bo said.

  Missy laughed. “I like a man who’s hungry. Come on in and help yourself.” She watched as he undressed. “Bo Carson, you are so cute. I feel like a teenager in the back seat of my boyfriend’s car when I’m with you.”

  He tried to last, but failed.

  “I’m sorry, Missy. You wouldn’t think a man my age would have this problem. At least I don’t need those little blue pills.”

  Missy snuggled against him. “I’m glad you get so excited when you’re with me. I don’t have any appointments scheduled, so we’ve got plenty of time for round two.”

  Bo pulled her close and inhaled deeply. Missy smelled like spring
flowers, and her mouth tasted like fruit punch. He would be happy to stay here all day. “I noticed your car parked in front of one of the rooms over by the office.”

  “Bruce suggested it as a safety measure. If someone is going around, killing working girls, there’s no reason for me to help him out by advertising my room number. The car is in front of the room next to Bruce’s living quarters, so he can see and hear anyone who seems suspicious.”

  Bo nodded. “That’s a good idea. So, you feel okay here at the motel? You haven’t had problems with Finn or anyone else?”

  “Yeah, it’s been good…like a little community. There are a couple of others who live here, and Bruce has been a good friend. I can see why Melissa liked it. Finn doesn’t care one way or the other as long as he gets paid. He’s driving me to an out-call appointment later tonight.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad it’s working out. I’m curious—it’s none of my business, but why do you need Finn to drive you to appointments when you have your own car?”

  Missy’s fingers rubbed his chest and then dropped lower. Bo shifted his position and began playing with her small breasts.

  “Out-calls are dangerous, Bo, especially here in Shenandoah County where there’s no real law enforcement. You never know what’s going to happen after you go through the door. I’m not saying in-calls are always safe, but at least the client has to go out in public and come to my place. I’m in control. As far as the client knows, I could have a boyfriend or bodyguard in the next room.”

  Her breathing quickened as Bo pinched a nipple.

  “I’m surprised you do any out-calls, considering the danger.”

  “It’s business, Bo. I can’t afford to turn down a job. I charge an extra fifty that Finn and I split.”

  Bo kissed her hard on the lips and felt her sweet, wet mouth open. This time, the pace was fast, but controlled. The sprint to the finish line ended in a violent tie. Missy’s face was flushed, and her body was slick with perspiration. Bo licked a bead of sweat from one of her breasts.

  “Wow! My boyfriend is a stud!”