by J. W. Lucas
I didn’t know if Lindsey’s two Chardonnays were one over her legal limit, and I was still wondering about her “he’s afraid of me” remark, so I asked, “Hey, you OK?”
“Yeah. Suddenly I just feel tired. Nothing that a good night’s sleep won’t fix.”
The elevator stopped on the second floor and she paused before she stepped out. “Thank You for a nice dinner and for everything you’re doing for us,” she said, giving me a hug.
Chapter Six
The sounds of sirens getting closer and closer crept into my dream, whatever it was. The screech of tires and more sirens woke me, and I realized this wasn’t a dream. I looked over at the window drapes and could see a flashing red glow. I glanced at the clock and saw it was 12:20. I got up, looked through the corner of the window and could see four police cars near the hotel entrance, the crackling of their radios penetrating the night air. I wondered what could be going on and suddenly thought of Lindsey. She seemed a little off when she went to her room and the thought raced through my mind that something had happened to her.
I got dressed as quickly as I could, went to the bathroom and combed my bed head, grabbed my wallet and room key and went down the hall to the elevator. The door opened quickly, and I pressed the button for the second floor to check on Lindsey. It opened, and I peered up and down the hall. Everything looked quiet.
I rode down to the lobby and as the door opened I saw a group of about ten people outside the lounge doorway. The crowd was excitedly chattering amongst themselves and I moved closer to see what was going on.
I heard a voice cry out, “Daryl,” and I saw Mandy running toward me. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she cried out as she grabbed me with a hug. She was shaking like a leaf, and I wrapped my arm around her.
I could see four uniformed officers inside the lounge talking with two separate groups near the bar. The college girls were surrounding the young guy bartender who was being interviewed by an officer.
Two of the Abbot Deputies were being interviewed by a second officer, but I didn’t see Deputy Savage. “What happened Mandy?” I asked. She was still shaking, and I took her hand and held it firmly. Her eyes were teary, and I could see she was fighting them off. I guided her over to a wingback chair and sat her down.
I kneeled alongside her and calmly asked her again what happened.
“Savage was drunk,” she started, her voice shaking. “He was loud and banging his mug on the bar, demanding another beer. My partner Davey came right over, and I told the guy that I couldn’t serve him anymore. He swore at me, called me a …. well, a filthy word, and threw the mug at me. Davey blocked his arm, so I didn’t get hit. One of Savage’s buddies tried to pull him off the bar and Savage punched him and pulled out a gun. He tried to climb over the bar that’s when Davey decked him.”
I glanced back toward the lounge to locate Davey, but my view was blocked by an older man wearing a tuxedo vest. His name tag read that he was the night manager. He touched my arm. “Sir, there’s nothing to see here. If you’re a guest, I would appreciate it if you could go back to your room. Thank you for your concern.”
Mandy cried out, “NO!” putting her hand on my arm. I stood up and did something that I hadn’t done in a very long time. I pulled out my credentials. “I’m a Federal Officer,” flipping it open to display my ID which displayed in very conspicuous letters US DEPT OF JUSTICE US ATTORNEY. The impressive gold seal resembles a badge. As a consultant, I had retained my credentials.
I heard Mandy weakly exclaim “What?”
The poor man was stunned and began to apologize profusely. I waved him off, said it was alright, and asked him to give us a moment. I swear he sprinted to get back to the registration desk. I kneeled next to Mandy and took her hand.
“You’re a Federal Officer? You told me you’re a lawyer,”
“I am a lawyer Mandy; I’m an attorney with the Federal Department of Justice.
“You’re, you’re a Federal Officer?” she asked, not comprehending.
“Yes. But that’s not important right now. I need you to pull yourself together. Everything is over, you’re OK.”
“I hope so,” she said, between short breaths. “In my three years working here, I’ve never had anything this bad happen. We get drunks once in a while, but we can always get them out of here quietly. Nobody ever pulled a gun on me before.”
“Well, I’m pretty confident Deputy Savage won’t be pulling a gun out on anyone else for a very long time,” I said to comfort her fear.
“Thank you, I needed to hear that,” she said as she squeezed my hand.
The night manager returned with a cup of water and a box of tissues for her and apologized to me again. She thanked him and seemed to be calming down.
I heard someone ask, “Sir?” and looked up to see a young police officer. “Did you say you’re a Federal Officer?”
“Yes, “I answered and showed him my ID. I read his mind and said “I’m staying here at the hotel and Mandy is a friend of mine. I heard the commotion and stopped to check on her well-being.”
“Oh, OK, thanks we appreciate your help.” Turning to Mandy he said “You OK Miss? You did the right thing and were very brave.” I saw that he was doing his best to charm her with his broad smile. She wasn’t buying it tonight.
“Officer,” I asked, “what’s the status of the guy who started this?”
“He’s under arrest for assault, possession of a firearm while intoxicated, disorderly conduct. He’s in a lot of trouble.”
“Will he get released tonight?” Mandy asked, “I don’t want him coming back here.”
“No, they took him to the hospital to be checked out. Your partner really clocked him; he may have a broken jaw.”
“Well, I hope it really hurts him. Is Davey in trouble?”
“No, not at all. He was very brave too and did what he had to do.” The officer turned to me and said, “Nice to meet you, Sir.”
Davey came out of the lounge followed by his coed entourage and came over to give Mandy a hug. She kissed him on the cheek and thanked him for stepping in to help her. He had a little bounce in his step as his admirers escorted him arm in arm out the door.
“He’s a sweet boy,” she remarked.
The night manager came over and told Mandy to go home that she shouldn’t worry about cleaning up. She thanked him and asked me to wait for her to gather her things and walk her to her car.
As we walked across the parking lot, she took my hand and said: “Daryl, I don’t even know your last name.”
“Richardson,” I answered. “That’s a nice name,” she responded.
She pointed out her car, a newer Jeep Cherokee, and clicked the remote starter. She turned and faced me, taking both my hands in hers.
“Tomorrow’s my day off. Any chance I could see you?”
I surprised myself with how quickly I answered.
“I have some business matters tomorrow, but I should be back here in the afternoon.” I reached for my wallet and gave her my business card that had my cell number. I handed it to her and said, “If you feel up to it, give me a call about three. I would very much like to see you tomorrow.”
She looked at the card, gave me a smile and a kiss on the cheek.
“Thank You for your kindness Daryl Richardson. I will call you.”
I opened the driver’s door for her and she settled in behind the wheel.
“Simmons.”
“What?”
“You never asked. My last name is Simmons.”
“That’s a nice name,” I said as I closed her door.
Chapter Seven
The clock radio woke me at seven to Trisha Yearwood singing “The Song Remembers When.” I was groggy and laid my head back on the pillow enjoying the sweetness of her voice. I wondered if Susan Peterson had that same gift. The world would never know
I sat up in bed as her voice faded out to the local weather and traffic, and I thought Willie Nelson’s “On The Road Again” w
ould have been a more appropriate reveille for my day’s planned activities. I hit the shower, and that helped clear the cobwebs.
As I was shaving, I ran down my agenda; breakfast with Lindsey, a trip to the Mall, and I would have my meeting with the County Exec. As I wiped the leftover shaving cream from my face, I stared into the mirror. What am I going to say to him to get my investigation going?
I got dressed, selecting a grey trouser and took the shirt off the chair. I held it up and couldn’t see any obvious stains, just a few wrinkles. I only needed a couple of hours service from my faithful Oxford before I dispatched it to a dry cleaner. It would have to do.
I fixed the bedcovers into some semblance of decorum and draped the damp towels across the tub door. I didn’t want my chambermaid to think that I was an unkempt transient.
I watched the local TV news for a few minutes to kill time before I had to meet Lindsey for breakfast. There was no mention of the hotel bar ruckus a few hours earlier. I was sure that those storm clouds were still forming.
I went down to the lobby and found Lindsey in a chair reading the morning paper. “Hi!” she said with a smile. She looked rested; her hair pulled back, her makeup highlighted her high cheekbones.
“I heard some people talking, I guess there was a little trouble in the bar last night?” She asked. “I slept like a log. I didn’t hear anything, did you?”
“Actually, I did. Come on, I’ll explain it over breakfast.”
We went into the lounge, it was crowded but we were shown to a table. We ordered, and Lindsey asked,” Well? What happened last night?”
I gave her a quick rundown of my being awakened, checking on her, going down and talking with Mandy about the trouble that Deputy Savage had caused. She shuddered when I told her that Savage had pulled his gun on her, I thought she was going to spill her coffee.
“My God,” she exclaimed. “Is she OK?”
I assured her that she was scared out of her wits but, had calmed down by the time she went home.
“That poor girl. Daryl, what’s going on with all this violence? This is getting bad, really bad. I hope you’re going to check on her this morning. She seems like such a sweetheart.”
“I gave her my cell number, and she said she’ll call me. Today’s her day off and I’d like to take her to dinner tonight.”
“That’s really nice of you. What about that bastard Savage?” I was taken aback by the language coming from her pretty lips and I glanced around to see if anyone else had heard her.
“Sorry,” she whispered, “I have a few dirtier names I could call him.”
I told her how the young bartender kid had decked him and when I said the cops thought he may have a broken jaw, she let out an emphatic “YES! I hope it is broken.”
“They arrested him. didn’t they?” she asked. I told her they did, and the charges.
“The firearm while intoxicated carries a minimum mandatory jail sentence I think. I hope they throw the book at him,” she said.
“Enough about that,” I said. “Any update on the Judge?”
“I called early this morning. He had an uneventful night. He’s awake and talking a little more. I’m going over to the hospital after we finish here,” she explained.
“What are your plans?” she asked, and I reminded her of my clothing dilemma. She suggested that I pick out some shirts with color, “especially if I was going on a date.”
I laughed and assured her I would try to find something appropriate. I didn’t mention the investigation plans I had or my meeting with the County Exec.
The waitress came with the check, Lindsey insisted on paying and I didn’t argue. I told her I would touch base with her in the afternoon and we parted company.
I went into the lobby and Googled the mall on my phone, learning that it opened at ten. The drive took me a little more than fifteen minutes.
The Mall was impressive in its size, not too crowded yet, which was a good thing for me. I couldn’t waste any time if I was going to meet with the County Exec by noon, so I headed to the store directory.
You’d think that a man of considerable means like me could afford a personal shopper. Something to consider I thought.
Men’s clothing offerings were limited, so I headed to Old Navy. I was in and out within twenty minutes. Two short sleeve dress shirts, a nice pale green long sleeve to humor Lindsey, two ties, a pair of jeans, underwear and a summer weight dark blue blazer. I clipped the tags off the blazer and figured it would go well with my pants as I didn’t have the time to drive back to the hotel and change. Check clothes shopping off my list.
Damien had told me that the County Exec had an office in a building that he owned downtown and gave me the address. I entered it into the GPS and arrived a few minutes later. An impressive building, it looked almost brand new.
I was challenged for ID by the lobby receptionist, more security here that at the Ethan Falls courthouse, I thought. I presented my credentials and was directed to his office on the third floor. I checked in with the receptionist and took a seat in the waiting room. A few minutes later I was escorted to meet Warren Donnelly.
He greeted me cordially as he came around from behind his desk. If Armani had a men’s fashion calendar, he would have a month all to himself. He was dressed as if his next appointment was to address a joint session of Congress. I took a seat in a very comfortable leather chair in front of his massive desk.
He spoke first. “Mr. Richardson, it is a great privilege to meet you, Sir. I’ve read of your work in Boston. Truly impressive.”
“Well thank You Sir, but please call me Daryl.”
“Daryl, it is.” He paused for a few seconds, “Daryl, I believe that I may have a problem in Abbot County.” I sensed that he was winding up for a campaign speech and I wasn’t going to sit there passively. I decided to pump things up right out of the gate.
“With all due respect, Mr. Donnelly not may have, you do have a problem. A very serious problem.”
“Excuse me, Sir?” he said peering over his gold rim glasses. I decided to start pushing his buttons to see what made him tick.
“In just two days of visits to Ethan Falls I’ve heard complaints that Sheriff Hunter’s department is rife with abuse, neglect, infringement of rights and outright incompetence in its leadership. That’s consistent with what’s in the letter you received, is it not?”
I thought the poor man was going to have a heart attack right there. His face flushed red and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. If he broke out in hives I would call 911, but I was on a roll and ready to shift into second gear.
“And Sir, the alleged outrageous conduct of that Department is casting you under a spotlight of scrutiny.”
“Mr. Richardson, I mean Daryl, I think we’re getting off on the wrong foot here,” he said forcing a weak smile.
“That’s not my intent Sir. I’m here for the benefit of Judge Forrest Moran, a revered jurist, and his loving wife Lindsey and the grieving
parents of a beautiful young woman who was brutally murdered and abandoned in the woods of Ethan Falls.” He didn’t respond, but I noticed that his attention to me was sharper now. My last comment struck a chord, and I didn’t want to engage in a verbal chess match and lose.
“A first-year law student would suspect very quickly that there is a nexus between the murder case and the attempted assassination of the Judge. I’m not a first-year law student Sir. I am an experienced Department of Justice Attorney.”
The Exec had slouched back in his chair, and I thought my dismantling of his political largess was effective. I was using all the right trigger words, now I had to put him back together.
“What are you suggesting Sir?” I didn’t respond immediately, I wanted to make sure that I had achieved checkmate.
“Mr. Donnelly, the anonymous letter that you received is also in the hands of State and Federal officials. There must be an investigation to validate or dismiss the claims, and if possible, identify the writer.
”
“Now wait just a minute Sir! I will not stand idly by while the State and you Federal people destroy the reputations of the good people in our fine Sheriff’s Department and myself,” he said in anger adding, “This is my County and I am the elected executive leader.”
“No Sir, I disagree. This isn’t YOUR County, it belongs to the good people of Vermont who live here as your neighbors and elected you.”
“I’ve been told that the letter contains seemingly outrageous claims. We need to know the truth as soon as possible,” I explained.
I told him that it would be helpful for me to have a copy to study, and he reached into a desk drawer, pulled out the three pages and brusquely slid them across to me. He also produced the envelope it was sent in. I noticed it was postmarked, Rutland.
“No one here has seen that except me.” He got up, fed the pages into a printer on his credenza and gave me a copy.
Checkmate. I would bet my inheritance that he wasn’t a lawyer.
Without offering his hand he said, “My time is very valuable, we are finished here.” He struck a defiant posture and glared at me.
I stood, folded the copies and put them in my blazer pocket. “No, we’re done here, but you and I Mr. Donnelly aren’t finished with each other.”
I slid behind the wheel of the Challenger and fired her up. The flow from the air conditioner felt good, and so did I.
I pulled out of the lot and as I turned onto State Street a storefront displaying men’s suits caught my eye. Lady Luck was with me as I saw an empty parking space right in front. I pulled in, dropped a few quarters in the meter, and went inside.
I was impressed with the assortment of men’s clothing and an hour later and almost five hundred dollars lighter I walked out with two nice business suit separates, and three pastel colored long sleeves on hangers. Lindsey would be very proud of me. In a few minutes, I was headed back to the hotel.
My thoughts switched to Mandy, and I was tempted to try to find her number and call her but thought better of it. I’m forty-two years old and I didn’t want to come across to her as a sixteen-year-old in puppy love or a dirty old man stalker. I admit though, I really wanted her to call me. A few minutes later the console display flashed an incoming call message, but it wasn’t Mandy. The caller ID read Medical Center, and I touched the accept icon.