by Jay Heavner
Roger let the rant pass. “You moved. Wish I’d called before I drove to Melbourne. I wanted to talk to you face to face and with no one possibly listening in.”
“Yeah, we’d been in transition for some time and totally moved in our new place for just a few days. The county finally agreed with me that I needed more modern facilities. This place has electrical backups and better security. The attempted break-in recently at the old facility was a small disaster. It sure messed with the bodies in the cooler. The perps got part way in, but not all the way. I got a good blood sample from the broken window, but so far, we haven’t figured out who done it.”
“Any idea what they were looking for?” “Well, my guess would be it was either kids thinking a morgue would be fun, some ghoulish people with evil on their minds, some sick puppies, someone wanting to destroy evidence involving a body I had there, or maybe trying to get to some old files I keep locked up securely.”
“No suspects?” Roger said.
“None. One advantage to this new place is it has video surveillance.” “That stuff ‘s becoming more common.”
“It is, but there’s not too much of it around here yet. Still pretty expensive.”
Roger said, “I got a question for you. Why’d they put this place in such an out of the way location here in Rockledge? The road I took to get here, Murrell Road, has four lanes but no traffic. I could have lain down and tak- en a nap and not gotten run over.”
“It’s called planning. Some people want this area to look like South Florida, sprawl everywhere. They think that someday soon this road will connect with several others and be full of traffic. Can’t say I’m looking forward to that day, but I fear it’s not far in the future.”
“I hope you’re wrong. I like it the way it’s now.” Will said, “I do too. Maybe when it happens, I’ll have enough years in to retire and move on to someplace less congested. What did you come here for today? Certainly not to hear about my complaints about idiots making work for others to justify their jobs and not to talk about traffic. What’s on your mind, Roger?”
“I’m here about a cold case.”
“Which one? We’ve got a goodly number to pick from.”
“The murder of Missy McCoy.” “Doesn’t ring a bell. Help me out.”
“It was at the Canaveral Diner in Titusville about five years ago. Multiple stab wounds.”
Will thought for a moment. “Oh yeah. Now I remember. There were some strange things about that case.” “How so?”
Will said, “Let me get the file and show you.”
“You have a file on this? What I’ve got so far was very sketchy and in - complete. Seems a lot of the evidence at the Sheriff’s Department has gone missing.”
Will said, “I’m not surprised. The security on that room was little to none existent. This county is growing so fast, the old ways that used to work, no longer are working or working poorly. The county and everything else in it is in catch up mode.
Just last week, I heard of a church that discovered a long-term theft. Seems one of the members had found a way to skim from the offerings over more than a decade. Enough little anomalies hit the radar screen for them to hire a forensic accountant. He found the problem. The church’s bookkeeping system was set up when the church was small. It worked then. The church now has over 1500 members, and the old system was still in place and had a few loose ends the thief had found and taken advantage of. The accountant quit counting when he found over one million dollars missing.”
“That’s an incredible story,” Roger said. “It is, and the Sheriff’s Department is just as vulnerable along with lots of other private and public entities. I’ve seen some things here I’d rather not talk about, and I know it happens everywhere. Let me quit jawing and get the file.”
“Okay.” Will left the room. Roger could hear what sounded like a heavy metal door open. He took a sip of coffee. About a minute later, he heard the door shut and also the sound of a heavy lock locking. Will appeared with a file in his hand. “Here we go.
Everything I have on the Missy McCoy case.”
The two men took a quick look at the contents of the file. Roger asked, “How is it you have this? The evidence department had next to nothing.” “I’m not surprised. Like I said, things around here haven’t kept up with the times and need to change. I keep a duplicate file of everything I have and everything I can get from the investigation by the Sheriff’s Department. I’m not sure they knew I have this backdoor access, but I do. The system works both ways. There are times the county forgets to tell me things on a timely basis and other times they forget they send me things that maybe they shouldn’t.”
“Will, you do know about Agent Gloria Hernandez?”
“Can’t say the name is familiar. She a cold case murder victim too?”
“No. She’s the new person who’s responsible for looking into cold cases and forensics at the Sheriff’s Department. Just came up here from Miami PD. She’s the one who gave me the little she had on the case I was asked to look into. What you have here is a gold mine. Do you have this on each case you handle?”
“There are a few records that the Sheriff’s Department didn’t send over, but yeah, I’ve got a substantial file on nearly all of them. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“I am. Someone found out about this file or another like it you have and doesn’t want the evidence to see the light of day. Will, I think you need to add even more security to your new facility here in Rockledge. If word gets out that you have this much evidence in one spot, you’re going to be a target for a lot of
low-life criminals who would let little or nothing stop them from destroying this evidence that could tie them to the crimes they, so far, have gotten away with.”
“Tell you what Roger, I can make photocopies of this file for you. I’m not breaking any rules because you as a cop and an investigator of this crime have the authority to have them and need them to do your job.”
“Do that, please. I’ll wait,” Roger said. “I can go over them slowly and thoroughly and see what I can find. You never know what will happen when you start turning over rocks.”
“True. And be careful. A lot of the creatures under rocks don’t like the exposure and will strike out at you,” Will said. “Very true. I’ll remember that. Some people think of Florida as a tropical paradise, but from what I read of Eden, even that original paradise had an evil snake.”
“Let me get those copies for you.” Will went to the photocopier. Roger watched as Will put the setting on fine quality. One by one, the machine ran the pages through it. It clicked and buzzed as it performed the task it was made for. Several long moments passed as it worked. The task completed, Will got a manila envelope and placed the pages in it. He handed it to Roger. “Here you go. Hot off the presses.”
Roger took the file. “You weren’t kidding. These are hot.” “Yeah, it’s an older machine I got from County Surplus. They were going to sell it, but I got it. It’s slow, noisy, and produces a lot of heat as it works, but this old model produces a quality copy better than any the county buys now. I was lucky to find it. I could use the money allotted to this depart- ment for something else I need or needed more.”
“Like more security?” Roger asked. “Yup, like more security and maybe less unnecessary paperwork. I’ll look into more security today. Any suggestions?” Roger thought and smiled. “Maybe a junkyard dog?”
“Not a bad idea, but I may have to clean up dog messes every day. And a bored dog can create a lot of problems. Let me think about it.”
Roger said, “Where I was a professor, the school’s greenhouse had a mouse problem, and no amount of spray or poison could get rid of the mice. A stray cat showed up, and the mouse problem got smaller and smaller. An employee got the smart idea of listing the cat as ‘biological pest control’ in their expenses, and that was good enough for the bean counters, and the cat food was now paid for, and it was cheaper and better than the exterminator servic
e they had been paying for. They named the cat after the college president, Harlow.”
“That’s a funny story.” Will paused. “Junkyard dog? I’ll think on it. I do believe I’m going to need something more than I have now.” “I think you’re right. I’ll look at this report and get back with you if I need anything more,” Roger said.
‘Please do. Details of the case are coming back to me. It would make my day if I could help you find the SOB that committed this crime.” “Thanks. I’ll do that.” Roger turned and went out the first glass door. The outside door was locked. Roger turned to Will who got the hint. The door buzzed, and Roger let himself out. As he walked to his vehicle, he pondered. Somewhere in the file he held could very well be the clue that solved this case.
Somewhere, if only he could find it. Justice for a young woman depended on it.
CHAPTER 18
Roger reclined in his new La-Z-Boy chair. He sipped at a beer as he examined the cold case papers the coroner had provided him. He hoped there was something that would jump out at him, something so obvious it had been missed all this time, but he could find nothing hiding in plain sight. The only thing that had jumped around today was the stray cat that found her way in the dog door and was eating the dog’s food. The call of nature beckoned him, and when he returned, there was the cat. She was running and jumping all over the porch as she tried to find her way out. It was cats gone wild. K9 eyes curiously followed the panicked cat as she frantically sought to escape.
The cat rushed out the screen door like she was rocket propelled when Roger had opened it. She made her escape and bolted into some nearby vegetation.
He looked up from his task as an old pickup came down the lane to his old trailer. He recognized the vehicle. It belonged to Bill Kenney. Roger wondered what he wanted and wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but was certain he was about to find out.
Hook or crook was sly ole Bill’s modus operandi. He usually got what he wanted even from the unsuspecting.
Bill got out of his truck and headed to the screened in trailer porch. He carried something in his left hand. “Hello, Roger. About time you got up. It’s almost the crack of noon.”
Roger growled, “I’ve been up for hours looking at these papers. Haven’t you got anything better to do, flatfoot, than bother an honest law abiding citizen?”
“Remember, it was me who pulled those strings and got you and Tom out of those numerous possible charges not too long ago. Remember?” “How could I forget? You won’t let me. I’m beginning to wonder if it wouldn’t have been better to go to jail than have to listen
to you as you hold it over my head.” Roger stopped. “What do you want anyway?”
“Have anyone told you that you look and sound like Sam Elliott after an all-night bender?”
Roger rolled his eyes and groaned. “State your business before I call the cops.”
“I am the cops.”
“I am too, and you won’t let me forget it. As I said, what do you want? I’m starting to get irritated.” Sarcastically, Bill said, “I hadn’t noticed.”
If Roger could have chewed nails, he’d spit them as bullets at Bill. “Had lunch yet?”
“No. What do you want?” “Hungry?”
“Yes.”
“I got you a Happy Meal. Thought you could use it.”
Roger frowned. “The McDonald’s bag kinda gave it away. Free food is free food even if it comes from you. I know there’s a catch. What is it?” “Just to do a wellness check and see how the case was going.” Roger muttered something unpleasant under his breath and said, “I’m fine. Give me the food.”
“I brought some for your dog too. Kind of payback for what she did in my truck.”
“Oh no, you don’t. I don’t need that kind of a mess here.” Bill smiled, “Okay, I’ll eat the meal.” Roger munched down on a French fry. “You had that planned out all along. You weren’t gonna feed her. That was your lunch. You had no intention of feeding K9.”
By now, Bill was grinning. “Why Roger, you cut me to the bone. To think I was capable of doing something like that.” He sat on a chair next to Roger. “Did you get a cat?”
“No.”
“Saw one when I came in.”
“Yeah, there’s been a stray hanging around. Been eating the dog’s food.” “Doesn’t that bother K9?”
“Don’t seem to. Maybe she feels sorry for another lost creature. She was one too when I found her at the pound.” “Could be.”
“What did the cat look like?” Roger said.
“Well, the streak that I saw looked like a mottled, black and gold tortoiseshell.” “Yup, that’s the one. I saw her hanging around. Actually, I heard her before I saw her. She was crying something fierce. Sounded lost and afraid. I talked to her, and she would answer back in a pitiful cry. I put a little food out in a bowl in the yard, and it’s been disappearing. I forgot to tell Lester to put some out in the yard too. He’d been feeding the dog when we were away, but you knew that”
“Old Lester, very dependable. When he says he’ll do it, you won’t have to worry about it getting done,” Bill said.
“Lester seems like a good guy.”
“He is. So, you’re feeding a cat? Sounds to me like you have a cat now. Once they find out you’ll feed them, they make themselves at home. You’ve been warned.” “Bill, she’s awful flighty and runs from me.”
“Roger, trust me on this. Before long, she’ll be running around like she owns the place and you too, especially a tortie. Once a cat like that claims you, it’s all over. You’re theirs. You’ll soon learn about tortitudes.”
“You mean like catitudes?” Roger asked.
“Yup, but ratcheted up about ten times. Torties are unique among cats.” “You make it sound bad, Bill.”
“Not really. You won’t find a more loving cat able to keep you entertained for hours. Think Tigger from the Pooh stories, a kitten, and a puppy all rolled into one, and that comes close to a tortoiseshell cat. Innocent and curious. A little flighty too.”
“Interesting.”
Bill said, “You need to set a trap.”
Roger’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t do that. She’s already scared enough.”
“Not that kind of a trap. You said she already knows how to get in and at the food on the porch. Dog don’t bother her. What you need to do is find a kitty size cardboard box and set it out.
Works every time. And humane too.”
Roger said, “You know you may have something there. That could work. A cat would be kinda nice to have around.” “Keep the vermin down.” “Vermin like you?”
“Doubt it. Didn’t work with K9.”
“True. Wonder if she would sleep on my face.”
“What?” Bill said. “That’s crazy. Whoever heard of something like that?” “Ever heard of the Furry Freak Brothers?” “Can’t say I have.”
Roger said, “Guess you wouldn’t. They were a series of underground comics that were popular on college campuses. Three hippies were living together and doing all kinds of wild and crazy things.”
“Guess I missed them.”
“One ole hippie, Fat Freddy, had a big yellow tiger cat with a real attitude that used to sleep on his face when he was asleep. It was one of the running jokes in the Freak Brothers comic books.”
“Roger, I think you’re safe from that happening. Let’s eat our Happy Meals before they get cold. What are all these papers?” “I got a copy of the whole report on Missy’s death from the coroner.”
“Really? The Coroner keeps copies? Care to tell me what you’ve found?” Bill said.
“Okay, but doggone it. Let’s eat first.” “Agreed.”
The two men chowed down on the Happy Meal, a burger, fries, and a soft drink. Bill said, “Hope you like Coke,”
Roger growled in a low grating voice, “Shut up and eat.” Bill nodded, and the two ate away at the Happy Meals without further comment. When they were done, they put all the food containers in one bag and p
laced it in the trash. Bill said, “I’m pleasantly surprised you located a copy of the report. Find anything helpful?”
“Yes, I’m working out a timeline for the events. I’m gonna figure out how everyone fits into this tale including you. Still no alibi and why not?” “I have my reasons. You’ll understand in the end.” “That’s part of my plan. I’ll follow up on the last week/day/hours of the victim, who she interacted with, possible suspects, etcetera. Somewhere in there is the answer.”
Bill said, “That’s usually the way it works.”
“I’ll look for gaps, inconsistencies, places where info is missing or seems out of place or places where something is squirrelly.
You know, something that just doesn’t pass the smell test.”
“Like my lack of an alibi, Roger?” “That’s one, Sherlock. That’s a big one.” Bill said, “Care to share anything? You know, I would make a good sounding board.”
“Not at this moment. I’m developing ideas right now, and it would be best if you stayed out of it for the meanwhile. I’ve still got a lot to do. The answer’s in this report. All I have to do is what I just told you, and all will be cleared up.”
“Just like in an Agatha Christie mystery?”
“Somethin’ like that, Roger. If I want or need your help, I’ll get in touch. Anything else you want to tell me?” “Got the house cleaned.”
“Good. It looked kind of shabby when we got back from South Carolina.”
“Yeah, I ain’t much of a housekeeper. Lester’s sister was there this morning cleaning up. I can make a mess incredibly fast.” “It’s a wonder she didn’t refuse to do it or declared the place a public health hazard and have it burned to the ground.”
