Tie Died

by Carol Dean Jones

  Back home, Sarah remembered Sophie’s demand that she report to Sophie’s house and explain herself. But she felt too good to do that. Instead, she decided to sit down at her window and thumb through her Introduction to Quilting book and think about the lovely day she had had with the very interesting Charles Parker.

  Sophie can just wait. I want to enjoy this new feeling.

  Chapter 24

  His face was red and his fists were clenched. “Do you women realize you can be arrested for obstruction of justice?” Detective Shields shouted.

  “Have we done something to annoy you, Detective Shields?” Sophie asked with wide, innocent eyes.

  “Annoy me? Annoy me? You’ve gone too far this time, ladies. You had no right to view those tapes and come in here asking me to account for my actions, or ‘lack of actions,’ as you put it.” Sarah noticed his hands were shaking as he downed an entire mug of coffee in one large gulp.

  “Look,” Sarah began in a soft voice, hoping it would help to lower the volume in the room. “We’re all on the same side, aren’t we? We want to know who killed Andy. I guess we have different reasons, but our goal is the same. Why are you so upset with us about this?”

  “I owe you no explanation,” Shields shouted, “and I’m seriously considering letting you both cool your heels in jail tonight. I have obstruction. I have impeding an investigation. I might even have you on accessory to a murder.”

  “What?” Sophie screamed. “How dare you talk to us like this!” Sarah noted that the volume in the room hadn’t, in fact, been lowered. She expected the pictures to fall off the wall soon.

  Sophie stood and theatrically tossed one end of her scarf across the opposite shoulder. “We’re out of here. If you plan to arrest us, you’d better do it right now.” She headed for the door. Sarah was hesitant but gave Detective Shields a polite nod and followed her friend. They both expected him to follow right behind and slap handcuffs on them. But the hallway was quiet, and they progressed to the elevator without incident. As the elevator door opened on the first floor, they again expected to be met by police officers, but they were not. They headed for the front door and exited.

  “I guess the SWAT team will meet us at the house,” Sophie said sarcastically.

  Shields slid his bottom desk drawer open and removed the flask. It was empty. He walked across the room to his briefcase and removed an unopened bottle of whiskey. Back at his desk, he filled the coffee cup and placed the bottle in the desk drawer. “No coffee this time, big guy?” he asked himself rhetorically.

  As he sipped his second cup, he reflected on his morning. The sun had been shining when he left the house, and he had decided to walk to work. The fresh air always helped him clear his head after the early morning hysterics he had to listen to from the time the alarm went off until he could get out of the house. “Margaret would be drinking, too, if she had my job,” he had muttered to himself. “I wish she would stop threatening and just go ahead and get out. Who needs this hassle?”

  He refilled his mug and started reading the reports on his desk.

  Sophie and Sarah were both shaking when they got into Sarah’s car. “You put up a good front, Sophie, but I can tell that upset you.”

  “Me? When do I ever get upset? That civil servant can’t upset me. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s here to serve us, not the other way around.” Sophie huffed and puffed and continued to mutter, “He had no right to speak to us like that.”

  “Well, Sophie, I’m not sure we went about it in the right way.” Sarah carefully chose her words. “You remember, we agreed to ask him about the white car and ask about the department’s progress in locating it. We agreed to be calm.”

  “Yes, we agreed to that,” Sophie said defiantly. “And that’s exactly what we did.”

  “Well, Sophie, I think bursting into his office without knocking and demanding, ‘What the Sam Hill is going on here?’ just might have rubbed him the wrong way.”

  “Hmm. Well, I was angry.”

  “Yes, you were angry. So was I. But I don’t think we made any progress in finding out what they’re doing about the white car.” They continued home and decided to go to Sarah’s house for brunch. Neither had eaten that morning, as they had been very eager to talk to Detective Shields.

  * * * * *

  Shields set the reports aside. He went across the hall to the men’s room and washed out his coffee mug. He had hoped no one would find out about the white car. They had lost several days due to his stupidity. His team had been viewing the security tapes for the days preceding the Burgess murder, and he decided to take over and personally view the tapes covering the night of the murder. As usual, he had stopped at the bar on his way to the security office and didn’t arrive until nearly midnight.

  He had been watching for several hours when he suddenly woke up with a start when the security guard came into the viewing room. He didn’t immediately know how much he had missed. The guard had said, “It’s 4:00 a.m., and you wanted to leave about now. Did you catch anything good?”

  “Nah,” Shields had replied, having no idea what he had missed. “Nothing that will help us anyway.”

  Several days later, the same security guard had called him. “I was wondering what you thought about that white car. I was just reviewing those tapes, and that car just flew by. I talked to Bud, the guy that was on duty that night. Bud didn’t seem to know a thing about it, so I’m suspecting he was off doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. He’s on suspension because of it. You didn’t mention it at the time, so I was just wondering ...”

  Shields interrupted, “The department is keeping that under wraps for now, so don’t mention it to anyone else. I was going to call you today about it. I want a copy of that portion of the tape for the department. Send it over right away.” Shields wondered if he would be able to cover his tail. What white car? he had wanted to ask.

  Once the tapes arrived, he immediately went to work. The car left the community and turned right onto Honeysuckle. There was an entrance to the interstate a few miles up, and most likely that was where it headed. North? South? He had no idea, but he assigned officers to check with gas station and highway cameras in both directions. There were three white cars that fit the general description traveling south and another four traveling north at about the right time. They were able to trace five of the plates, and they were cleared immediately. On the other two, both traveling south, the plates were not clear enough to read. He didn’t have the manpower to follow up with all the camera footage that would have to be reviewed. He had to wait and hope the killer made a mistake and hope his bosses never noticed the one he made.

  It was an easy mistake to make, he assured himself. It was late, and I was tired. He vowed to stop beating himself up over it and pulled out the Burgess file. He went over the fingerprint reports, looking for something else he might have missed. Andy’s prints were everywhere, of course. It was his home. Unidentified prints were found as well. And there were places where all the prints had been wiped clean. Strange, he thought. All the closet doorknobs were clean, as were all the handles on the dresser and cupboards. Had the killer been searching for something? Did he find it? Shields wondered.

  He called Detective Gabriel into his office. They discussed the case for a while and decided to do a second search of the house. “Let’s do this one ourselves,” Shields said. They called their forensic unit and requested a technician to accompany them.

  Upon arriving at Andy’s house, they saw that the crime scene tape was still attached. “I thought we were taking this down so the sister could come get his stuff,” Shields said.

  “She isn’t coming for several months, so we left it in case we needed to go over the place again. I’m glad now that we did. The place should be just like it was when the body was found.” Sure enough, the place was a mess: drawers pulled out and dumped on the floor, closet contents thrown around, mattresses tossed aside. The chalk outline of the body was still there, and there
was dried blood on the corner of the nearby table. “Looks like he hit his head here,” Gabriel said.

  “The guy took quite a beating before he went down, but the coroner confirmed that he died from the head wound. I wonder how the other guy looked.”

  Gabriel continued to look around the area where the body had been. “Yeah, I wonder. The coroner’s report said this guy had defensive wounds. It must have been some brawl.”

  Confirming that there apparently was nothing the previous investigators had missed, the two detectives locked up and removed the crime scene tape. “It’s been long enough,” Detective Gabriel said. “Let’s get this out of here so these people don’t have to keep looking at it.”

  Once they got outside the Village, Detective Shields turned to Gabriel and asked, “You got time to stop for a drink?”

  “Sorry, Mark. The kids have a play at their school tonight. Gotta get home. Sorry.”

  Shields drove Gabriel to his car at headquarters and continued down the street to Barney’s. Once inside, he took his usual stool at the bar. “Hey Barney. How about a shot over here.” The music played, the cobwebs in his head began to fall away, and the warmth of the alcohol gave him a feeling of mellowness that he couldn’t get anywhere else.

  At 1:00 a.m., Mark Shields opened his front door and entered as quietly as possible. He turned the light on in the foyer. The beam of light stretched across the floor, into the living room, and across his wife’s angry face.

  “Turn right around and get out!” she yelled. “Now!”

  He opened his mouth to argue, but no words came. He staggered toward the door, falling against the wall. “Please, Margaret,” he slurred. “Just let me sleep. We’ll talk ... later ...”

  “Out!” she shrieked. “Out now.”

  He reached for the doorknob, opened the door, and tripped over a flower pot on the front porch. He landed head first on the edge of the first step, tumbled to the bottom, and lay unconscious, leaving a trail of blood behind.

  Chapter 25

  Nancy from the animal shelter sounded very chipper when Sarah answered the phone. “I think we may have found the perfect dog for you, Mrs. Miller,” she said with enthusiasm.

  “What kind is it?” Sarah asked apprehensively.

  “Well, he isn’t exactly any identifiable breed. I would say he’s a mix of maybe a ... oh, I really don’t know what to tell you. He’s medium sized, maybe twenty-five pounds, has brown curly hair, and is very friendly. He seems to know a few commands, so he probably had a home at one time. We picked him up eating out of a trash can behind Barney’s Bar & Grill.”

  “He must belong to somebody,” Sarah responded.

  “Yeah, that’s what we thought too, but no one has claimed him, and he didn’t have a collar. I will admit, he’s not real pretty, but he’s a real sweetheart. I’d love for you to see him. This fellow deserves to have a home.”

  Sarah had intended to call Detective Shields first thing that morning and apologize for their behavior the day before—actually for Sophie’s behavior, but she would accept half the responsibility. Maybe she would call him first and then drive by the animal shelter. She was a little nervous about calling, not knowing how he would respond. He seemed to be a man of few moods, mostly bad ones.

  The phone rang again, and Sarah answered, reminding herself to get a phone with caller ID. “Hello?” she answered.

  “Sophie here. What are you up today?” Sarah didn’t want to mention her intention to call Detective Shields, but she told her about the call from the animal shelter.

  “A dog?” Sophie exclaimed. “And what do you need with a dog? They’re just a lot of trouble.” Sarah attempted to explain but realized she couldn’t explain the love for a pet to someone who didn’t make that connection. Sophie grew up on a farm, and as she’d said many times, “Animals belong outside.”

  “Well, don’t expect me to take care of that mutt when you’re away,” Sophie growled.

  “And just how often have you known me to be away, Sophie?” Sarah responded in a teasing tone.

  “You’re right, kiddo. I should mind my own business, but you know me.”

  They arranged to have a cup of tea in the early evening at Sophie’s house. As she hung up the phone, Sarah thought again about calling Detective Shields. His card was lying by the phone, so she dialed his number quickly before she lost her nerve.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Miller. Detective Shields won’t be in today.”

  “May I leave a message for him?”

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I don’t know when he’ll be available. Can Detective Gabriel help you?”

  “No, thank you. I’ll call back.” She hesitated, hoping the officer would give her some idea when he might be available, but there was no response. Sarah felt something was wrong, but clearly she was not going to get any more information.

  Sarah dressed in jeans and a plaid flannel shirt over a tee-shirt. It was beginning to get cool, but it could warm up at any time. Autumn was appearing, but it wasn’t promising to stay.

  When she arrived at the animal shelter, Nancy led her back into the kennel she had visited before. She only recognized a couple of the dogs from that time. She hoped the others had been adopted. They passed the cage with the rottweiler, and Sarah knew she had made the right decision.

  They turned down the next aisle of kennels, and there he was. Sarah caught her breath and placed her hand on her heart when she saw him. “Oh my!” she exclaimed. He had big brown eyes, almost the exact color of his coat. He was ever so slightly cross-eyed when he looked at her, but that just made her fall in love with him. He had a long snout of a nose and rather long whiskers that twitched when he opened his mouth. He was undoubtedly the straggliest dog Sarah had ever seen, but he was most certainly smiling at her. She smiled back, and he wagged his tail.

  A handwritten sign was clipped to the cage: Barney. Barney was the perfect name for this homely hound mix. “We don’t know what his name is. He had no tags. We named him Barney since that’s where we found him—out behind Barney’s Bar & Grill, but you can change that if you want.” Nancy said. “He won’t mind.”

  Nancy clipped a sturdy leash to his collar and said, “Come, Barney.” Barney stepped out of the cage and trotted up the aisle beside her, head held high. Nancy led them out to the run and showed Sarah some of his tricks. “He appears to be a very smart fellow,” Nancy said. “Someone has obviously trained him to sit, stay, and behave well on a leash.”

  Sarah looked at his short wagging tail, his sturdy build, and his straggly coat, and she smiled again. He looked back at her with appreciation and smiled back. They had made an instant connection. She had to have him. He had to have her.

  Sarah and Nancy agreed that she could pick him up the next day. He had one more appointment with their vet to complete his shots. He had been neutered the previous week. Sarah wondered who would have let this wonderful dog go. She could hardly wait to take him home. As she was leaving, she wished he were going with her today.

  Once Sarah got in the car to head home, she suddenly realized how much she had to do to get ready for his arrival. “He’ll need a bed and a blanket, and dishes for food and water. Oh, and food,” she said to herself aloud. “I’ll have to call Nancy to see what he eats.” But then she realized that he probably ate whatever they gave him in the kennel, and she decided to stop at the new pet store up the street from Stitches and ask them about food. “Treats. He’ll need treats, too. Oh, and toys ...”

  “What have I gotten myself into?” she muttered.

  But she smiled as she drove, feeling excited about having another love in her life. “Another love?” she exclaimed aloud. “Now where did that come from?”

  Having completed all the preparations for Barney’s arrival, she realized it was time to go to Sophie’s house. She decided not to eat dinner since she knew, from experience, that the snacks Sophie would provide would more than fill her up.

  * * * * *

  “Hi, kid
do,” Sophie greeted. “How was dog shopping?”

  “Well, I have a new member of my family. His name is Barney. Now, I know you’ll try not to like him ... but, believe me, within five minutes you’ll be in love.”

  “In love, huh? We’ll see,” Sophie grumbled. The coffee table was overflowing with cheeses, crackers of all types, biscuits and jam, hot chicken wings, and a bottle of chardonnay.

  “Glad I didn’t eat dinner,” Sarah laughed.

  “Surely by now you know you’ll receive a handsome feast when you come to my house.”

  “Well, don’t expect the same when you come to my house. I’m a plain, simple cook and certainly not the fanciest of hostesses.”

  “We’ll see if that’s true once you start bringing that good-looking man of yours to the house,” Sophie responded.

  “Good-looking man? What do you mean?” Sarah asked innocently. Sophie doubted the sincerity of the innocent look when she saw a smile attempting to spread itself across Sarah’s face.

  “Humph.”

  “Okay, okay,” Sarah conceded. “I know you’re talking about my new friend, Charles. He’s a really nice man, and we’ve only had two or three visits together.”

  “You mean dates, right?”

  “No. I don’t mean dates. We just meet at the coffee shop or the dining room, walk around the community, or sit in the park. We talk and laugh. We just have fun,” Sarah explained.

  “Yes,” Sophie responded. “That’s what I said. Dates.”

  Sarah let out an exasperated sigh followed by a little smile. The two friends went on to other topics and had a delightful evening together. They were indeed becoming fast friends.

  Chapter 26

  Mark Shields opened his eyes slowly, trying to figure out where he was. This was a familiar feeling, waking up feeling disoriented, but usually he could identify his surroundings and, shortly after that, reconstruct why he was there. This time was different. There was a gurgling machine next to him, tubes in both arms, a monitor of some sort, and a pain in his temple that defied any morning-after headache he had ever experienced. He looked around for Margaret. He had a momentary memory of seeing her in the hallway. “At home?” he asked himself. He fought to recapture the memory but nothing came.