by J. T. Lewis
She nodded and turned to leave, her tail man following close behind.
“We’ll get everyone back to status as soon as we can clear them Lean,” Allen tried reassuringly, “but everyone will have to go through the process, even you,” he finished with finality.
Remembering the cigarette behind his ear, the sheriff pulled it down and stuck it in his mouth, chewing the end in aggravation. This was definitely his worst day ever, and where the hell was that lighter?
Chapter 25
March 10, 2007
Allen had us wait outside until it was over; the total castration of the sheriff’s department. After about ten minutes, our boss reappeared in the parking lot and came over to our location, a look I can only describe as distaste showing on his face.
“Ok, the process is started. I promised Lean it would be as quick as possible. Gabe, can you go on in and get everything that Tucker and Larry have on the case and get it over to our office. Please assure them that they are supposed to be among the first to go through the process to be cleared. As soon as that happens, have them come over to work on the case from there for now.”
“Betty, get in touch with Harry Clausing and have him meet at our offices also. When everyone is there, I would like to go back to the Wolf Creek crime scene and go over it again, any questions?”
No one did, so Betty pulled out her cell to call Harry as I caught up with Allen on his way back in.
“How’d it go in there?” I asked as I finally caught up with the fast walking prosecutor.
“About what you would expect if the Gestapo had entered your office with guns leveled and made you strip naked in front of everybody. It was totally humiliating, for everybody. It was the worst idea I ever had, and the only legally sound one that I felt I had available. I feel like crap.”
I had nothing to add to the conversation, so the rest of the walk was silent as we made our way into the sheriff’s office. I found Tucker sitting at his desk, more or less looking at ease, sitting quietly awaiting his turn. Turning his witness chair around backwards, I plopped down beside his desk like I did it every day, looking much more gallant than I felt. Leaning forward conspiratorially and in a low tone I told him how sorry I was for how this went down.
He shrugged his shoulders and said he understood, from what he had heard, it sounded like a reasonable play considering the circumstances.
I reached over and squeezed his shoulder, then told him what my mission entailed; reassuring him the he and Larry were supposed to be cleared as soon as possible so that they could get back to work on the case.
He opened a drawer and pulled out some files, grabbing a rubber band and binding them together before handing them to me. Saying he would go grab Larry’s stuff, he got up and headed across the room.
While I was waiting, I looked around the room, taking in the activity. Lean was in the corner at Jane’s desk, looking over her shoulder, pointing here and there at different papers on the desk as she took notes in response. Probably scheduling deputies for interviews and lie detector testing, I thought absently.
A commotion across the room caught my attention, hearing a loud “Hell No!” as my eyes rested on the scene of Tucker leaning over Larry’s desk. Apparently Larry was not as forgiving as Tucker was to my request. I couldn’t blame him one bit for his feelings.
Tucker kept at it though, and eventually Larry relented, handing his files to the other deputy. Tucker nodded in appreciation.
Walking back over, he handed me the files. “I’ll be glad when this is over,” he mumbled tiredly.
“You and me both,” I agreed, offering my hand which he took immediately into his.
“I’ll see you in a bit,” I said before turning and heading out of the office.
I have not been so glad to leave a place in a long, long time.
Chapter 26
March 10, 1997
There was a hint of spring in the air as I walked to our office from the Sheriff’s department. I couldn’t wait for this case to be over. Betty would want to get to her garden soon and I was feeling truly helpful this year. Carrying the accumulated info from the deputies, I took the steps of the courthouse two at a time, the hallway inside now very busy as I entered.
Opening the door to our suite, I spied Betty and Frank huddled around the desk we were currently using for the hotline recorder we had recently set up for anyone with info on the original murder.
Betty glanced back and caught sight of me, motioning with her hand excitedly to come over there. As I arrived she looked up again with excitement in her eyes, saying “listen to this!” Nodding at Frank, he played a message on the answering machine we use when no one is manning the station.
When I heard the message, chills ran down my spine.
“The Ghost strikes again, thanks for making it so easy.”
Their eyes met mine, the surprise evident on my face.
“It’s him,” I said, dumbfounded. I had them replay it several times, trying to catch any clue in the voice that would help us in identifying the murderer. The only thing I could garner was that the whispered voice seemed young, maybe someone in their twenties, but definitely male.
“We should send this to the state for voiceprint analysis,” I said, trying to wrap my head around the situation. “Then we have something to compare to on future communications, or when we catch him for that matter.”
“Caller ID confirms that the call came from the Longstreet residence,” Frank stated in his professional policeman voice. “Timestamp shows it came in at 11:36 PM.”
“This is great, and a ballsy move by the murderer, but it’s not exactly the break in the case I was hoping for,” I said somewhat dejectedly.
“Maybe not” Betty started, excitement still showing in her eyes, “but this might be.”
Again nodding to Frank, she was smiling as a second voice spilled from the machine; this one much older, with more of a southern drawl.
“Hello... Hello...anyone there? Well anyways, I saw on the TV about the people being murdered on that highway awhile back. When I realized what night that was, well…to tell you the truth, I got a might scared. But when they advertized this number asking for help, I figured I oughta call.”
“I think I mighta seen that feller that night, I pulled over to help some guy, but he decided at the last minute to go to a car that pulled in behind me. The thing is, what I keep thinking about the most is….well…I coulda been the first one murdered!”
Chapter 27
March 10, 1997
I was dumbfounded, a smile spreading across my face at the realization that we at last had a lead. The rest of my crew was also smiling, excitement was finally in the air.
“Well, you guys found him, see if you can meet this man and take his statement.”
That seemed to please them greatly, and they got busy making arrangements. I was antsy to get back to the crime scene, so I found Harry and asked him to meet me at the scene. I then left a message with Ellen, asking the deputies to meet us there as soon as possible when they arrived at our office. I also wrote a note to Allen, letting him know we had a couple of leads, and that I would fill him in later.
My step was a little lighter as I left the courthouse; the first real break had fallen in our lap out of the blue. Someone living had possibly talked to, and maybe even seen the murderer. This day that had started off so bad was starting to look up.
I had to show my badge and ID to the muscular trooper guarding the Longstreet house, he didn’t know me from Adam. Harry pulled in right behind me in his city cruiser. It took him several seconds to unfold himself from behind the wheel.
We gloved up as the trooper unlocked the door and stood aside. Entering the house, I prepared myself for the long haul, expecting to have to spend several hours here this time around.
We started at the front door, each of us slowly working around the room in opposite directions. Everything had been recorded in picture and drawing, so we could more readily move things
and dig deeper this time around. I passed several stacks of newspapers and magazines, doing but a cursory inspection of these items for now, only checking to make sure there was nothing important stuck in between any of the issues.
I came upon the fireplace mantle and took a few minutes to take it in, noticing four framed objects that stuck out at me.
Two were deep frames with individual pocket watches, more than likely the most valuable of his collection. Another frame contained a Bachelors’ Degree from Purdue in engineering; the date on the document was 1939. The final frame contained a certificate from the Governor of Kentucky, declaring Mr. Longstreet a Kentucky Colonel in good standing.
An old mantle clock stood guard at the center of the fireplace, the thickness of the dust indicating it hadn’t been wound in quite awhile. Paying more attention to the thick dust covering the whole mantle, it also occurred to me that there was no fingerprint dust anywhere on the wooden structure. My best guess would be that the techs didn’t see the need, since any prints would have been quite apparent.
Noticing some knickknacks on an upper shelf, I pulled a chair over and stood up to take a look. There were various pieces of mostly uninteresting items, most of these being shoved to the back of the shelf. A few were prominent toward the front of the shelf however, another pocket watch hanging from a hook in a small glass globe, a small model of a World War I biplane, and a small frame holding an old tintype of a couple that I can only guess were his parents.
As I was getting ready to get down off the chair, something caught my eye on the dusty shelf. Actually it was the lack of dust that gave me pause. Standing straight up in the chair once again, I took a closer look at the area in question.
Leaning my head to get a better angle on the area, I determine that I was looking at a small, dust free circle. A small mark in the dust was also evident from when, I assumed, the item had been removed.
“Harry,” I called to my current partner, “Does Harold Longstreet have any family?”
“An older sister in South Bend; just talked to her earlier for the notification. She’s eighty five years old and hard of hearing, but she seemed pretty on the ball. Took Harold’s death as well as could be expected.”
“You still have her number?” I asked while getting down off of the chair.
“Got his file in the car,” Harry came back, “You need to talk to her?”
I walked over and told him what I had found, and that I wanted to see if she might know what he might have kept there. He headed out to the car and returned carrying a file. I looked up her number and pulled out my cellular, not surprised at having no signal showing on my screen. Going into the kitchen, I grabbed the house phone and dialed the number.
The file indicated that her name was Irene, which is who I asked for when someone answered the phone.
“May I ask what this is about?” the woman on the other end of the call asked, definitely someone younger than eighty five screening Irene’s call.
I told her who I was, and indicated that I just had a couple of questions for her if she felt up to it.
“This is probably not the best time for any questions Mr. Celtic; she is grieving a lot over the loss of her brother. We had to ask her Dr. for a sedative to calm her down, she’s actually sleeping now.”
She agreed to write down my question and ask her grandmother the first chance she got. I gave her my contact numbers and thanked her for her time.
Our two deputy partners arrived after about an hour and a half.
Larry looked much calmer now that he had been cleared.
Having the extra help got us through the house much quicker than I had expected, heading back to the office after only three hours of searching. But we had come up with nothing else that looked promising in the house
***
A vision of loveliness was waiting for me on the front steps when I arrived at the courthouse. Betty was pacing anxiously in front of the building and offered me a beautiful smile when our eyes met. I brushed my hand across hers as we grew near, thinking she was there waiting for me, quickly finding this line of thought to be in error.
“Mr. Folke, the man on the recording is on his way. He has agreed to come in and give a statement. I was so excited I decided to come out and meet him personally.”
My minor disappointment at her not being here for me was replaced with excitement at still being able to meet our witness. I leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, earning another smile for my efforts, even though I had violated rule number three (always be professional with each other in public).
Our short lived reverie was interrupted by a voice saying “Sergeant Celtic?”
Standing at the base of the steps stood a man I would guess to be in his mid-sixties. “My name is Fred Folke. I think you are waiting for me?”
Chapter 28
March 10, 1997
The man before us was dressed in bib overalls and a flannel shirt, and couldn’t have looked more the part of the farmer he was if he had tried.
Getting him seated in the conference room, we soon discovered that he lived in the next county. He described himself as a bachelor, his only family being his dog and his cows.
Setting down a cup of coffee in front of him and making sure he was comfortable, I took a seat next to him, letting him tell his story when he was ready.
Frank and Betty were also seated, anxiously waiting with paper and recorder as he started his tale.
“I just came into town that night mainly to go to the farm store, picked up a watering trough, some mineral supplement, and a couple of tires for the Massey.”
“Well sir… And mam…it was still a little early and I hadn’t been to town for awhile so I stopped at a bar to have a couple of beers. It’s because of that is the reason I was going home that late.”
“Anyways, I’m driving along and I see this car on the side of the road with its flashers on. It was pourin down in buckets, and I felt sorry for whoever was in that car so I pulled off in front of it.”
“I was waitin out the rain when all of a sudden someone gets out of the car and runs up to my door real quick like. I roll down my window and ask this young feller if he needs a ride.”
“Now the strange part is he looks like he wants to get in real bad, but I think he got a good look at the shotgun I carry behind my seat, looked to me like he got a might confused right about then.”
“Along comes another car, pulls in behind us, and he says that there was his friends. He says ‘thanks for stopping,’ then he runs off back to the other car, guy had to be soaking wet by then.”
“I gotta tell ya, when I think of what coulda happened, I get chills up my backbone.”
“Mr. Folke,” Betty jumped in when he was finished, “I know it was dark, but can you give us any kind of a description of the man?”
“Well, he came up to just over my mirror, so that would make him about five feet six or so. He appeared like he was really thin, wore a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up. Like I said before, he looked young, in his twenties maybe.”
“Ok, that’s great Mr. Folke” Betty said while going over her notes; “is there anything else that you can remember about the man?”
“No, I don’t think so. Well, hold on a minute, lightning flashed real bright for a second there. I ain’t for sure, but I thought I saw a mark on his face. You know, like a birthmark or something.”
Betty was excited, asking if he could describe the mark.
“Well, like I said, I’m not sure about this, but seems to me it looked kinda like a line, under his eye, I guess it would be his right eye. Bigger on one end than the other, kinda like a baseball bat.”
Chapter 29
March 10, 1997
Betty convinced Mr. Folke to agree to work with a sketch artist. The problem was, there was no one in this county that did anything like that.
Frank got on the horn to a couple of other counties that had access to one, finally finding one in Jackson County. It was
going to take an hour and a half for him to get here though, and you could tell that Fred was uncomfortable waiting that long. Frank offered to take him to lunch, on the county tab, and Mr. Folke warmed up to the idea quickly.
As they were heading out the door, I tugged at Frank’s sleeve, mouthing “no place with beer,” cocking my elbow in my best pantomime of someone taking a drink.
Frank grunted before saying the circus was in town next week and that I should consider applying. Laughing in spite of myself, I turned and almost ran into my beautiful wife.
Asking why I was laughing, I replayed the scene with Frank until I had her laughing too. Making her smile had always been a real treat for me, but it was especially significant today with all that had transpired.
“Can I see you in your office for a sec?” she asked. Nodding, I lead the way in and turned to close the door as she passed. When I again turned, she grabbed me around the waist and laid the side of her head on my chest, holding on tightly.
Somewhat confused but enjoying the closeness, I asked if she was ok while I wrapped my arms around her shoulders.
“It’s just been a long stressful day, and I appreciate the fact that we are working together on it. And I just really needed a hug.”
Increasing my pressure on her shoulders slightly, I told her there was no one else I would rather work a murder with. This struck us both funny and we giggled in each others arms.
I reached down with my hand and brought her chin up, kissing her tenderly on the lips. She responded in kind, the kiss lasting several seconds. Looking into her eyes, I kissed her again, this time the seesawing emotions of the day expressed themselves in the increased passion of the kiss. She responded immediately, her pent-up stress also spilling out with fervor.
We were heading down a road in a car with no steering wheel, neither of us having control of the outcome, but both of us welcoming the ride and saying ‘what the hell’.
