by Kathi Daley
Chapter 18
Colt returned to Acadia National Park the following day with a cadaver dog and two other police officers who worked in the area. I wondered if a cadaver dog could find a body after fifty years; Colt had said it was unlikely but possible so there was no reason not to bring the dog along.
It wasn’t my place to accompany Colt and other police officers and stayed home to write, but he promised that he would keep me up-to-date on their findings. Georgia had gotten home late the night before; given her particularly good mood today, I was betting she’d spent some quality time with Tanner.
I was trying to find some momentum with the chapter I was struggling with when I received a call from Colt.
“Did you find the burial site?”
“No,” Colt answered. “Not yet. I receive a call from my mortgage broker, though. They want to take a look around the house this afternoon, but I don’t think I’ll be back in time. I was wondering if you would have time to go over there to let the inspector in.”
“Sure. I can do that. I’ll need a key.”
“In the top drawer of my desk at work. It’s labeled. Peach will know where it is,” He said, referring to the receptionist for the police station.
“Okay, what time?”
“Two o’clock. The broker said that the inspector will be there for less than an hour.”
“I’ll just wait and lock up after. How is the search going?”
“So far we haven’t found anything, but I’m still hoping.” Colt paused and said something to someone in the background. “Listen, I have to go. I’ll call you later. Maybe we can have dinner. My treat, as a thank-you for bailing me out with the inspector.”
“I’d like that. Call me later and we’ll firm up the details.”
After I hung up the phone I headed into the kitchen to refill my coffee cup. Georgia was sitting at the dining table at her computer.
“You look intent,” I commented.
Georgia looked up. “I’m doing some digging to see if I could find anything more about Charlotte Torrington. Tanner and I talked about her extensively after you told me about her and we both found that we were fascinated by her story.”
I picked up the coffeepot and began to pour dark liquid into my mug. “And have you found anything?”
“Not a lot, which isn’t surprising; not everything that anyone thought, felt, or did was shared around the world then the way it is now. I did find one reference to a female rebel who lived in Boston during the Revolution. She was credited with nursing many of our soldiers back to health. Charlotte wasn’t mentioned by name, but there was one source I found that made a comment that this woman was born in England and followed her heart rather than her birthright. I figure that might have been Charlotte.”
I sat down at the table. “It is a fascinating story. I’m curious as to how the necklace ended up in the secret drawer, but I have reconciled myself to the fact that there is probably no way to know. It is unlikely that anyone other than the person who put the necklace in the drawer even knew it was there. The fact that it was never recovered does not bode well for the person who left it. I have to assume that the person died without knowing that it was never picked up.”
“You said Riley mentioned that Charlotte might have left the necklace in the drawer as some sort of payment for services or supplies,” Georgia said.
“Of course it is also likely that the necklace was bartered or that Charlotte passed it on to someone and that someone, or even the heir of that someone, was the one to leave it in the drawer. We can’t know that unless we find evidence that the necklace belonged to someone else after Charlotte died.”
Georgia shrugged. “If it did, we might stumble across a photo of it or at least a description of it someday. In the meantime, what are you going to do with it?”
“I’m not going to sell it. I think I am going to donate it to a museum. It seems like much too important a piece of history to keep or sell. The question is, which museum?”
“The Smithsonian has an American History Museum. And there are museums that focus on Colonial America specifically. I suppose any number of museums would be thrilled to have it.”
“I may talk to TJ about it. She probably has an idea where I should start.”
Georgia reached over and hugged me. “I love the fact that you have a necklace worth six figures and your first impulse is to donate it rather than sell it.”
******
I arrived at the Palmer house twenty minutes before the inspector was due to show up. I’d tried to time it so that I could run a few errands along the way but had completed them more quickly than I expected. I let myself in, then opened a few windows to air the place out. The stench I had encountered the first time I was there was subdued significantly, but there was still a sort of pungent staleness to the air. I supposed that once Colt changed out the carpet, drapes, and furniture, all remnants of the odor would be eliminated. Until then, fresh air, it seemed, was my friend. Deciding to go out onto the back patio until the open windows had a chance to do their thing, I headed in that direction. As I reached out a hand to open the back door, I noticed a few ashes on the floor. I supposed they might have been there before and I just hadn’t noticed. The stench had been so bad the first and even the second time I’d been there that I hadn’t been focusing on much other than keeping the contents of my stomach on the inside.
I reached for the handle and opened the back door, then walked outside, which was when I noticed that the man who lived in the house behind Palmer’s was out in his yard, watering his planter boxes. I raised a hand and waved. He not only waved back but stepped through the fence and headed toward me. It was then I noticed the big ol’ cigar in his right hand.
“Desmond Green.” The man transferred his cigar to his left hand and reached out to shake my hand.
“Abby Sullivan.” I glanced toward the fence. “It looks like your plants are all coming back nicely.” I glanced at the planter boxes on Palmer’s porch. “These don’t seem to be doing as well.”
“I’m not sure what happened, but they all up and died a while back. Bruce was as confused as anyone. He’d even been watering them with bottled water, thinking the sink water was tainted in some way.”
“Is it?”
Green chuckled. “No. Bruce was paranoid about tainted water. That is why he paid for bottled even though he didn’t exactly have money to burn. You looking to buy this place?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m a friend of the man who is buying it. He was held up today, so he asked me to come by to let the inspector in. I understand you are a photographer.”
The man nodded. He took a puff on his cigar and blew the smoke in my direction. Yep, there was no doubt about it. That was the same scent I’d noticed in the house.
“What sort of photographer are you?”
“Travel photography.” The man frowned. “How exactly do you know what I do for a living?”
I stepped back a bit to distance myself from the smoke. “The friend who is considering buying the house is the chief of police. He is the one investigating Mr. Palmer’s death, and he mentioned the names and occupations of the people on this street during one of our conversations.”
He frowned. “I see. I imagine he is planning to stop by to chat with me too?”
I shrugged, hoping I looked nonchalant. “I guess he will. He did say you’d been out of town.”
“Yes. I just got back a couple of days ago. I didn’t hear about Bruce until yesterday. Such a damn shame. The guy was quiet and kept to himself. Exactly the sort of neighbor I enjoy. Is your friend married? Does he have kids?”
“No. He’s not married. I’m sure you’ll find him to be a quiet neighbor as well.” I glanced at the fence the man had so easily stepped through. “Were you and Mr. Palmer close?”
“Not really. He was an older guy and I knew he lived alone, so I stopped by to check on him from time to time. He’d been feeling under the weather before I left on my last trip
, so I was stopping by more often. I went to the market for him a couple of times and brought over some takeout for him on a few occasions because he was bored with the meals that were being delivered by the service. Given the way things turned out, I guess I should have done more. I had no idea that he was quite as ill as he must have been.” The man paused. “You said your friend was looking into Palmer’s death. Why is that? I assumed he died of natural causes.”
“I’m not really sure. We didn’t discuss it that much. I only know that he was looking into things.” I glanced at the house behind me. “I’d better go and wait for the inspector. I wouldn’t want to miss him.”
“Sure. It was nice meeting you.”
I plastered on a smile. “It was nice meeting you as well.”
I watched as he headed back to the fence and then disappeared into his own yard. At least I now knew for certain how the man with the cigar managed to come and go from Palmer’s house without detection. Now all we needed to figure out was whether he’d used his easy access to kill Bruce Palmer.
Chapter 19
The inspection was quick and painless and I was back home in time to type out another half chapter of my manuscript. Colt hadn’t said where we were going for dinner, but I assumed he most likely had something casual in mind, so I dressed in knee-high boots, black leggings, and a long sweater. I took extra time with my hair and makeup for reasons I couldn’t explain even to myself. By the time I was ready, he was pulling into the drive.
“How did it go?” I asked once we were underway.
“We found the burial site, although I still need to verify that the skeletal remains we found actually belong to Natalie Norris. All I can say now is that they belong to a female.”
I turned slightly in my seat. “I’ve tried to look at this from every angle and I just can’t understand why Bruce Palmer would do what he did. It makes no sense at all. Why keep Grange Highlander’s remains in a trunk but take the time to bury Natalie Norris?”
Colt shifted his hands on the steering wheel. “The spot where we found the remains had a fantastic view. I suppose Palmer might have cared about Natalie enough to ensure that she had a beautiful final resting place.”
“If he cared about her, why did he kill her? Even if she threatened to tell what he did, he could have run away. He didn’t have to kill her.”
Colt let out a long breath. “I don’t know. I wish I did.” He turned onto the road that would take us to the restaurant he’d picked out. “I have been trying to understand what happened in 1966. We suspected that Palmer killed Highlander in retaliation for what he did to derail Palmer’s career and that at some point Natalie found out about it and threatened to tell the police, at which point Palmer killed her.”
“That does make sense.”
“It does, except that I have since found out that Natalie was reported as a runaway two days before Highlander went missing.”
“Runaway? Why did her parents think she ran away?”
“I guess she was a troubled kid. Hung out with a rough crowd. When she failed to come home, they figured she took off.”
“Which is why there wasn’t a missing persons report for her.” I frowned. “Still, her disappearing first doesn’t fit the theory at all.”
“Add the fact that the prints on the knife, which I suspect we will eventually prove was the weapon that killed Natalie, don’t match Palmer’s prints, and the theory starts to break down.” Colt slowed as we neared the downtown section of Holiday Bay.
“Okay, new theory,” I said as Colt pulled up to a stop sign. “We know that Highlander accused Palmer of assaulting him. An accusation that Palmer denied yet, it still resulted in him being kicked off the football team, which then resulted in his losing his access to a college scholarship and having to settle for work in sanitation. We have been assuming that Palmer killed Highlander in retaliation. Later, Palmer’s girlfriend found out what he’d done and threatened to tell, at which point Palmer killed her. But you have found out that Natalie disappeared first, which puts a kink in our theory. What if Palmer didn’t kill Natalie? What if Highlander did?”
“Why would Highlander kill Natalie?”
“Maybe Natalie was angry over what Highlander did to her boyfriend. Maybe she confronted him. She may even have taken the knife to threaten him into recanting his claim, getting Palmer off the hook for the alleged assault.”
Colt pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. “Okay, I’m following. She takes the knife to threaten Highlander, but he turns the tables on her and she is the one to be stabbed.”
I nodded.
“But then, how did Natalie’s remains end up in Acadia National Park? If Highlander killed Natalie, how did Palmer end up with the knife?” Colt turned off the ignition but didn’t make a move to get out of the vehicle.
I clicked off my seat belt. “Say Natalie went to confront Highlander. She brought a knife with her, thinking she could use it to persuade him to recant his claim that Palmer assaulted him, but he turned things around and stabbed her. Maybe Palmer was there too, or maybe he showed up just a minute too late. Palmer knew Highlander killed Natalie, so he killed Highlander. His prints weren’t on the knife, so he must have killed him using another means. Maybe he hit him over the head with something.”
“There was evidence on the skeleton of a head injury,” Colt confirmed.
I continued. “Palmer is just a kid. He kills Highlander and then he totally freaks out. His girlfriend is dead, the classmate who had accused him of assault is dead. He figures that this whole thing is going to destroy his life, so instead of calling the cops, he moves the bodies. He puts Highlander in the trunk and he takes Natalie to the park and buries her. I can’t explain why he kept the trunk and why he didn’t at least wipe Natalie’s blood off the knife, but the rest of it makes sense. The longer he keeps the secret, the less likely he is to tell anyone the truth. Still, he does want the remains of both deceased individuals to be found at some point, so he wills Highlander’s remains to Highlander and leaves the map to Natalie’s remains with the knife that killed her to Natalie.”
Colt turned slightly. “Okay. So who killed Palmer?”
I shook my head. “No idea. I did talk to the cigar-smoking photographer today, though. Let’s head inside and I’ll fill you in. I’m starving.”
After we’d been seated and had ordered, I told Colt about my conversation with Desmond Green, including that he’d admitted to coming and going from Palmer’s house via the back door and bringing him takeout on occasion before he left for his trip. The fact that he had been in the house and brought in food gave him the opportunity to poison Palmer, but we didn’t have a motive yet, and without that, we really had nothing. Colt would have to speak with Green as soon as possible.
“Seems like we’ve had our share of mysteries to solve lately,” I offered as Colt topped off my wine.
“That’s an understatement.”
“Have you heard anything else about the internal affairs investigation involving Ben and the others?”
Colt hesitated. “Are you sure you want to discuss this now?”
“Uh-oh. I am sensing a problem,” I said, setting my wineglass on the table.
He leaned forward slightly. “Not a problem really. It’s just that I decided to do a bit more poking around and found out that the investigation has been dropped.”
I frowned. “I guess that is a good thing?”
Colt furrowed his brow. “I suppose.”
“You sound less than certain.”
Colt glanced at me, then looked away.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I am just curious about why the inquiry was dropped. The investigation had barely gotten started, and the next thing I know, the case is closed and the men involved are returned to active duty. Maybe they were able to prove in a fairly efficient manner that they were innocent of all charges, but my sense is that wasn’t the case. I think someone higher up the food chain stepped in and shut the t
hing down.”
“You think that there is a cover-up of some sort behind the early resolution of the case?”
Colt shrugged. “Perhaps. And maybe I shouldn’t care, even if that is what is going on. It certainly doesn’t involve me, and having the whole thing swept under the rug would certainly help you. If Ribaldie was after a file he believed Ben had, the fact that the case has been closed may nullify his desire to find the file. I think in the long run that is a good thing. Still, my interest has been piqued, and I find myself wondering exactly what happened.”
“I doubt very much that Ben was involved in any wrongdoing. He was an honest cop and a good man, and I can’t see him taking payouts. I can, however, see him looking into things if he suspected that one or more of the men he worked with had been taking bribes. In my mind, it is possible that he did have whatever file that Ribaldie has been after, even though we didn’t find anything when we went through the ones I have at the house. I guess whatever is going on is out of our hands. To be perfectly honest, I’d like for it to just go away.”
“I don’t disagree. I think continuing to look into it might open a door we don’t want to open. I do have some feelers out relating to the files we determined might be relevant to whatever IA was after, but I am willing to let that go if that is what you want.”
