by Marvin Wolf
Ash said, “Mrs. Richardson told us that Sharon dated men from Fort Rucker. Do you know any of their names?”
Bloom smiled. “Pardon my French, but Jeff’s grandmother is a stuck-up bitch, and she knows almost nothing about what Sharon did or did not do., Sharon did date a few men from Fort Rucker, warrant officers I think they’re called—student pilots—but it was a few years ago. And it was one gentleman at a time. I see nothing wrong with a single mother going on a date once a week or so with a nice young man. I met some of those boys, but that was years ago and I can’t recall any last names. There was a James, a Lawrence, and a Boone, and that’s about all I can remember.”
Will said, “Mrs. Bloom, did you often lend Sharon your car?”
She shook her head, no. “Sharon had a car, but it was in the shop. Something about the fuel pump, I think. She didn’t want to reschedule her interview, so she asked to borrow mine. It wasn’t a big deal, really.”
Will said, “Do you happen to know which place that is?”
“It’s called Reeves Repairs, on Reeves Avenue. As far as I know, it’s still there. The car, I mean.”
Ash said, “Are her parents still alive?”
Bloom brushed back a tear. “I don’t know about her father—he was a sharecropper and abandoned his family when Sharon was in diapers. Her mother died a few years ago. Sharon has an older brother, but I have no idea where he lives. Sharon hadn’t heard from him since high school.”
Will said, “Did she have a funeral?’
Bloom nodded. “Bert—my husband—paid for it. Nobody but us, our kids, and a Japanese lady from the restaurant showed up. Not even Idelle Richardson.”
Ash said, “What does your husband do, Mrs. Bloom?”
“He’s in sales. Travels four or five days a week, but he’s always home on weekends.”
“What does he sell?” Ash asked.
“Health products.”
“Can you be a little more explicit?”
Bloom blushed. “If you must know, he sells condoms. He has about 400 coin-operated machines in gas station, truck stop and restaurant restrooms in eastern Alabama, Western Georgia, and the Florida panhandle. He collects the money, pays the station a percentage, and restocks the machines.”
Will said, “It’s an honest living, and there’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
Bloom smiled. “Thanks for saying that. He makes a good living, for us and he works hard. It’s just that a lot of people think that selling prophylactics is somehow immoral.”
Ash said, “Stupid people, I’m sure.”
Bloom said, “It’s usually the same people who are against abortion. And that just mystifies me.”
Will said, “Mrs. Bloom, do you know anyone who might have wanted to hurt Sharon?”
Suddenly sober-faced, Bloom shook her head. “So far as I am aware, she had no enemies. Except for Idelle Richardson, of course.”
Will said, “No disappointed ex-boyfriends?”
Bloom shook her head again. “Sharon hasn’t dated in quite a while. A year, at least.”
Ash said, “What about her waitressing jobs? Did she get any grief from someone—if you know? Somebody hitting on her?”
“She never mentioned anything. We spoke often and shared our little confidences. But I know where she worked, and if you want to check that, I’m happy to give you the names of the restaurants.”
Ash said, “That would be great. Thanks.”
Will said, “What about Coe, her former husband?”
Again Bloom shook her head. “Lincoln was a sweetheart. A soldier out at Fort Rucker. He married her ten years ago when she was pregnant with Jeff. There was no romance—actually, I think he might be gay. I’m not sure. She was struggling, and he married her so that she could get an Army dependent housing allowance, which helped a lot. He used to sleep on her couch several nights a week when Jeff was little. He babysat so Sharon could go to work.
“Then he shipped out for—I think it might have been to Germany, but I’m not sure. He stayed in the Army a few more years, and during all that time Sharon got a check every month from the Army. When Jeff was little, and she couldn’t afford a full-time babysitter, that few hundred dollars a month made a big difference.”
“Do you know what he did in the Army?” Ash said.
“I think he was a mechanic. Airplanes or helicopters, I don’t know which.”
Will said, “Did they stay in touch?”
“Oh, yes. He lives in Pennsylvania now, and when the coffee shop closed, Sharon and Jeff drove up there for a little visit—about a week, during Easter break.”
Will said, “What can you tell us about the father of her child—Jeffrey Richardson?”
Bloom said, “We never met, but Sharon told me a little about him. He was an officer, and very good looking, very smooth. He flew helicopters. Sharon was 20, a virgin, she told me, and they went out exactly once. He put something in her drink, took her to a motel, and raped her.”
Ash said, “Did she report the assault?”
Bloom shook her head, no. “She was ashamed. And when she learned that she was pregnant, she was mortified again. He refused to take her phone calls. Finally, she went to the base chaplain, and he got Jeffrey’s commanding officer involved. Jeffrey admitted that they’d had sex but insisted it was consensual, not rape. He was ordered to give blood for a paternity test. Then he left for Afghanistan. Only after he went missing in action did Sharon hear from his mother. Idelle wanted to take the baby, but Sharon wasn’t having that. They had a sort of armed truce, where Mrs. Richardson would come by once a month and take Jeff for the day.”
Ash said, “I understand that Sharon brought Jeff to Mrs. Richardson the day she went for an interview. Why didn’t she leave the boy with you?”
“It was Idelle’s regular day to see the boy. That’s why Sharon made the appointment on that day. I’d have been glad to have him, but Mrs. Richardson’s very forcefull. Gets her way, no matter what.”
Will said, “What can you tell us about that?”
“Sharon told me that a few days before she gave birth, Idelle sent a lawyer who offered to pay for the hospital and give her $100,000 to let Idelle adopt her boy. Sharon told him to go to hell. The next day, Idelle came in person. Offered Sharon $10,000 if she’d name the boy after his father. Sharon was flat broke, and Idelle knew it. Sharon took the money.”
Ash said, “Anything else?”
“Oh, yes. Three times—at least three that I know about—Idelle reported Sharon to Child Protective Services for child abuse and neglect. And three times the state social workers came to her home, interviewed neighbors, put Sharon through the wringer. And three times they left Jeff with Sharon. Shr told me, and I don’t know if this is true, that Idelle even tried to bribe those social workers.”
Will said, “Mrs. Bloom, how did that turn out?”
“Sharon said that the district attorney opened an investigation, but Idelle’s lawyers got the whole thing squashed. According to Sharon, the Richardsons are sort of Dothan royalty. Idelle is the widow of a retired general and her family has been socially prominent in this town since Reconstruction, at least.”
Will exchanged glances with Ash.
Ash said, “Is it possible, do you think, that Mrs. Richardson could have had something to do with Sharon’s death?”
Bloom paled. “I never thought of that,” she whispered.
Chapter 29
Ash and Will sat in her car, around the corner from the Bloom house.
“Hungry?” she said.
“Very. Any ideas?”
“I’ve got a sudden taste for steak, Japanese style.”
“Me too.”
§
Midori Steak House was on Main Street in Enterprise. The decor was faux Ginza, the waitresses fair-haired and light-eyed, the menu hadd more grilled fish than beef, but it had a sushi bar and a smaller wet bar that served mixed drinks. The beer was domestic and imported, Will settled for an Asahi while As
h ordered a Kirin Light.
She ordered grilled tuna, he selected the hibachi steak, and they shared each other’s entree. When they had finished, Will beckoned to their waitress, a heavy woman of perhaps forty, and displayed his badge below table level.
“Did you know Sharon Coe?”
“Sure,” she said. “Are you looking for her murderer?”
Ash said, “We are. Do know of anyone who might have had a reason to kill her?
The waitress shook her head. She looked around the room, which was t empty except for another waitres and two diners at one table.
“Come with me, please,” she said and led them to a tiny office near the kitchen. She rapped lightly on the closed door, then pulled it open to reveal a tiny Asian woman, smaller even than Ash, wearing a geisha wig and an ornate kimono, and seated at a small desk.
The waitress said, “Mrs. Yang, these are police. They want to talk about Sharon Coe.”
“Y’all come on in,” said the tiny woman in Deep South English.
Ash switched to Mandarin and spoke to the woman, who answered in kind. Then she smiled and addressed Will. “Your lady asked if I was from Yunnan. I was born here, but my parents are indeed from Yunnan, and I spent much of my childhood in Kunming.”
Will said, “Ms. Shapiro is not my lady, she is my working partner. Did you start a Japanese restaurant because there are too many Chinese places in this part of the country?”
Yang smiled. “It was easier to find a Japanese chef than to compete with so many bad Chinese restaurants. But you want to know about Sharon. Please, ask your questions. I want to help.”
Ash said, “Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to hurt Sharon?”
Yang shook her head. “Not at all. This is mainly a family place. Sometimes on weekends officers from the fort come. They are mature, polite, respectful. Sharon was very good with people, and customers liked her. She made more tips than any of the other waitresses.”
Ash said, “There was never a time when a customer wanted more from her than a meal?”
Yang shook her head again. “Not that I knew of.”
“Did she mention anyone, anyone at all, who might have been a threat to her?”
Yang frowned, thinking. “Maybe her mother-in-law. She’s a society woman, with a lot of money, and she has tried to take Sharon’s son away.”
Will said, “She mentioned this to you?”
Yang nodded. “A few times. She was saving money to hire a lawyer to get that woman to leave her and her son alone.”
Will said, “Thank you, Mrs. Yang. You’ve been very helpful.”
Ash spoke again in Mandarin, and for several minutes she and Yang conversed.
“Thanks for your help,” Ash said, handing her a business card. “We are grateful.”
They found that their table had been cleared. Will turned to the waitress and mimed writing a check. She smiled, shaking her head. “On the house,” she said.
Will said, “We can’t accept gratuities. Thank you anyway.” He returned to the empty table, took out his wallet and laid two twenty-dollar bills on the table.
The waitress beamed. “Y’all come back,” she said.
Smiling, he followed Ash to her car.
“Ash, how did you know that she was Yunan Chinese?”
“Yang is a very common name in Yunnan, and not so common elsewhere in China. Then there was her stature—she’s tiny. And shrewd—she opened a Japanese restaurant instead of a Chinese one. When I was a baby, I had an amah—sort of a nanny—that looked a lot like her. So I made an educated guess.”
“I am constantly amazed.”
“Stick around, Grasshopper. You have much to learn.”
“What were you asking Mrs. Yang about?”
Ash giggled. “I love Szechuan food. There are plenty of Chinese restaurants around here, but no good ones. Not even one. So I asked her where I could get a good Szechuan meal. She said the closest place is Huntsville That’s 300 miles each way.”
Will shook his head in sympathy. “A long way to go for a meal.”
“Someday,” said Ash. “Let’s call it a night.”
§
An hour later, after brushing his teeth and climbing into bed, Will lay in the semi-darkness, eyes open, thinking about Ash. She was the most amazing woman he had ever met, he decided. Took crap from nobody. Smart as a whip. Worldly in ways he could only imagine. Did she have a boyfriend, he wondered. What did she look like naked? Did she like him, even a little, or was it all professional?
Will shut his eyes, rolled over, and in half a minute was asleep.
Chapter 30
Ash and Will were ushered into Sheriff Taliaferro’s office at 9:05 the next morning.
The Sheriff rose from her chair, stretched, and said through the open door, “Janklow! Bring these folks some coffee.”
Will said, “Black.”
Ash said, “Just a little sugar.”
Two minutes later, after pleasantries were observed, the sheriff leaned back and in a soft voice that belied her impatience, said, “You found something.”
Will said, “Maybe. Are you familiar with Mrs. Idelle Richardson?”
Taliaferro nodded. “By reputation. Very well-connected, especially in Dothan and out at the fort.”
Ash said, “She had a motive for wanting Sharon Coe dead—her grandson, who is the only offspring of her son, who is MIA and presumed dead in Afghanistan, ten years ago.”
Will said, “Mrs. Bloom, a neighbor and friend of Mrs. Coe, tells us that Richardson has been trying to get custody of the grandson since before he was born. Called in Child Protective Services no less than three times, and each time Coe got a clean bill of health.”
Sheriff Taliaferro said, “If Sharon Coe’s son is Richardson’s grandson, then who was Sharon Coe married to?”
Ash said, “Lincoln Coe, but only after Jefferson Jackson Richardson IV impregnated Sharon, in what he said was a one-night stand and she said was date rape.”
Taliaferro pursed her lips. “Curiouser and curiouser. What do you have on old lady Richardson?”
Will said, “Only the strong suspicion that she somehow co-opted your detective, Marsten.”
The sheriff’s eyebrows went up. “Tell me more.”
“At the moment, we have very little. But we know that they know each other. After our brief interview with Richardson, he begged off the next interview. We left, drove around the corner, and watched him leave his car, march up the stairs of Richardson’s house, knock on the door and be welcomed in. I’ll show you.”
Will took out his phone, cued up the video, and handed the phone to the sheriff.
Ash said, “We’d like you to get a search warrant for Richardson’s phone records and financials.”
Taliaferro handed Will his phone. “Whose case is this—yours or mine?”
Will said, “We have ear-witness testimony that Sharon’s corpse was dumped out of a low-flying helicopter into that farmer’s pond.”
The sheriff snorted. “Ear-witness?”
Will nodded. “Maxwell and Pearl Buress, the farmer and his wife, heard a chopper make a slow, descending approach over their pond, then climb away while accelerating. They found the body two days later when he went fishing.”
Ash said, “Not many civilian helicopters around here.”
Taliaferro said, “Joint investigation, then. I’ll look into Marsten. I knew he was lazy, but this is news. What’s your next move?”
Will said, “Once we have Richardson’s phone logs, we can try to match calls to someone on the base. Once we have her financials, we can see if there’s a tie to anyone under our jurisdiction.”
Ash said, “And we’ll chase down Lincoln Coe, in Pennsylvania, somewhere. Sharon went for a visit a few months before she disappeared. He might know something.”
Taliaferro said, “The trick is going to be finding a judge that doesn’t know Idelle Richardson.”
Ash said, “If you strike out there, we can go fe
deral.”
Taliaferro got to her feet. “I’ll be in touch,” she said.
Chapter 31
A little after noon, Ash, Will, Landon, and Chelmin gathered in the conference room and ate sandwiches while Ash briefed the others on the progress of their investigation. Then Will spoke up, “I spoke with Lincoln Coe about half an hour ago. He was not aware that Sharon had been murdered, but he had tried to reach her by phone for the last several months.”
Ash said, “What else did he have to say?”
“Lincoln said that when Sharon visited him last Easter, they made plans for her to move to Scranton, where he lives. He owns a four-unit apartment building and lives in one of the units with another man. One of his tenants had a lease that expired in September, and when the tenant moved out, he and Sharon planned that she would rent that unit. He also had researched Wal-Mart hiring and learned that it was relatively easy to transfer from one Wal-Mart to another. So they planned that she would come after Labor Day.”
Ash said, “And bring her son with her?”
Will nodded. “Of course. And that provides a motive for Richardson to have Sharon killed—she would have lost contact with her grandson.”
Chelmin said, “Circumstantial, at best.”
Ash and Will both nodded. He said, “Of course. But now we finally have a theory of the case: Richardson got somebody who could sign out a helicopter to kill her and drop the body in the pond.”
Chelmin said, “Not bad, but still only a theory. And how does this link up to our other disappearances?”
As if synchronized, Will and Ash both shook their heads. She said, “It might be completely unrelated. But then again, we can be fairly certain that she was dropped from one of our many helicopters.”
Again Chelmin shook his head. “Maybe not. A clever killer, might very well steal or rent a civilian aircraft and drop the body to make us focus on our base personnel.”
Landon spoke up. “It’s worth checking with those civilian agencies or companies that have helicopters, if for no other reason than to rule them out. There are only about a dozen in this part of the state, Western Georgia, and the Florida panhandle. It would make it a lot easier to look for any forensics, like blood, in those aircraft. We’re talking about a relatively small number.”
