Roland P D Omnibus

by Ruth DuCharme

“Somewhere. If I find her card I’ll swing by your dads shop and give it to him.”

  I waved my thanks to Marge and got in the car. Sarahbeth stepped on the gas and I scolded her a little. “I appreciate you trying to defend me but you didn’t have to get all fired up like that. She’s just an old lady.”

  “Yeah well this town is full of nosey old bitches. Someone should put her in her place.”

  “Are you mad because she said I had been the subject of nasty rumor or are you angry about her making noise over your mural?”

  “You know that old lady called an actual town meeting to try and get them to make me stop? Called it graffiti!”

  I laughed. “That explains it.”

  “It’s not funny, Jason!”

  It was clear Sarahbeth was no longer in a fun mood. We drove in silence and when we reached my house I barely had time to get out before she angrily peeled out of my driveway.

  Redheads!

  Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Four

  Monday morning arrived in its usual fashion, too soon. I needed to venture back to the car rental place and trade in my damaged truck for another.

  My paperwork in hand, I jogged down to the café where I had left my truck yesterday morning. Thank goodness Kirk hadn’t been irritated with me enough to tow it.

  It was a slow, tortuous drive back to the airport but I made it without hitting anything or swerving off into a ditch. I went to the rental desk and explained what had happened. I handed over my copy of the police report along with a lengthy apology. After filling the paperwork for another vehicle, this time a small, reasonably less expensive, compact, I went outside to wait.

  It seemed no one was in a hurry to bring me another chance to bankrupt them, so while I waited, I went through the pictures of the case file I had taken with my phone. Nothing jumped out at me.

  I wondered if about the party call and the subsequent arrest of the juveniles involved. Maybe one of those drunk teens had seen something and not realized its significance? The incident had occurred around the right time of night. Drunk teenagers aren’t exactly the most credible witnesses but it was worth a shot. If I could find them. I read the names of those arrested. Well, well, well. I know you. I recognized one of these characters and knew just where I was going next. If they ever brought me my car!

  Eventually a young man in his twenties drove up with my new rental car and handed me the keys. “Here you are, sir. Sorry you had to deal with that.”

  This was a first! This guy was actually apologizing. To me! If this had been California I’d be having to explain myself repeatedly as well as pay through the nose for the repairs. If they gave me another car at all.

  I got my car and drove straight back to Bojangles. Shelly was busing bustling food back and forth between tables and when I asked for Ben she said whirled past me with a quick “Ben’s not here!”

  I decided I would wait until the crowd had thinned a bit and ordered a piece of pie that I ate while I read the local newspaper. I was engrossed in an article touting the towns excitement over the upcoming Fourth of July carnival when Shelly fell, exhausted, into the chair across from me.

  I shoveled another bite of pie into my mouth before rudely mumbling, “I didn’t realize you guys got so busy!”

  “When Ben is gone I run like my hair is on fire!”

  “Where is he?”

  “Once a week Ben drives to Deertail and buys all of our meat at the butchers there. It’s better than the frozen meat we could buy from the distributer and to be honest, I think he likes to get out of here for an afternoon.”

  “When will he be back?”

  Shelly glanced at her watch and then rubbed her tired eyes with her hands. “Whew, only a few more hours. He is usually back by six or seven at the latest.” Shelly got up and tightened her apron strings. She grabbed my empty pie plate. “If you want coffee, you are going to have to be a gentleman and get it yourself.” She smiled before twirling away, back to her hungry customers.

  I took Shelly’s advice and found the coffeepot and a to-go Styrofoam cup. Before I left, I tucked a twenty under the register.

  I drove the few blocks to Camden Hardware and went in to see my dad. The front bell jingled and Dad looked up from his stack of receipts he was sorting. “Son, I’m glad you’re here.” He set down his papers and reached into his shirt pocket, withdrawing a small business card. “Marge stopped by and left this for you.”

  I examined the card.

  Officer Joy Sullivan

  Harmony Police Department.

  The Harmony Police Department part had been scratched out and a phone number had been written in pen underneath it. It wasn’t a local number.

  “Thanks, Pop.” I took the card outside to the front walk and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed the number handwritten on the card but was disappointed when I reached a voicemail. “Hello. You have reached the voicemail of Lieutenant Joy Sullivan of the Portland Police Department. Please, leave me a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” Beeeeep.

  I left a short message explaining who I was and asking her to call me back. With Dad’s nose stuck in his paperwork and nothing better to do at the moment, I went to the library and checked in with Ma. Maybe I was a hoping, just a little, that I’d run into Katie graffitiing the walls of the institution.

  I walked into the cool library and had to squint in the dim lighting. I found my mom in the science fiction section, shoving paperbacks into their Dewey Decimal assigned spaces. Mom looked up in surprise. “Well what in the heck are you doing here?”

  “I thought I would stop in and say hi to my favorite librarian. Make sure she wasn’t googling anything inappropriate.”

  Mom slapped my arm playfully. “While you are here, why don’t you grab yourself something to read, son.”

  I grimaced. “I’m on vacation. I don’t want to work.”

  “Here. Check out this book.” Mom handed me a small paperback with a robot on the front. “There’s enough fantasy in that book that you will forget all about work, and girls…” She widened her eyes at me, “…and get lost in a vacation on Mars.”

  I growled in mock annoyance as I took the book from her outstretched hand. “Yes ma’am.”

  Mom went back to stuffing book shelves and I meandered around for a moment, pretending to look at the spines of the so-called vacation fodder. Sarahbeth was nowhere to be found but I did want to check out her mural. I walked outside and found her artwork displayed on the west side of the building. I looked it over in admiration. She was quite good. The mural depicted a large scene of a small town that I assumed was Harmony. Kids played and the American flag flew high above them all.

  There really wasn’t anything to do right now. Ben was gone for the next few hours, Sarahbeth was evading me, both my folks were busy working and, I checked my cell phone, Joy Sullivan still hadn’t called me back.

  There was only one thing left to do. I retrieved my car, drove home, took my book out to the backyard and climbed into my dad’s hammock.

  The gentle sway of the hammock, the smell of pine and the warmth of the shaded sun lulled me. The story of Martians and soldiers at war put me right to sleep.

  I dreamt of Marc. We were fourteen again and back at the quarry. I watched as Marc laughed, ran and jumped off the cliff. The moon was huge and Marc made a small shadow against it before he droppedto water below. I waited for the splash but it didn’t come.

  I went to the edge of the jumping cliff and looked down towards the water. Marc was gone. The water didn’t even ripple. It was smooth as glass. I was alone.

  I screamed his name over and over. I scrambled down the rocks to the shore below, sure I would find his body broken and lifeless. Marc wasn’t there either. I scrambled back to where we had dropped our bikes and found only my own. Marc’s was gone.

  Had he played a trick on me? Was he hiding? And then a frightening thought roared into my head; Had he ever been with me? Did I really come here alone and imagine the rest?<
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  My dream shifted and now dark rolling fog shut out the moon and I was enveloped in darkness. I walked my bike back along the road and saw a shining light up ahead. It was coming fast, like a train. The light got larger and larger and so bright that I threw my arm across my eyes. Suddenly the light morphed into the beam of a flashlight. An adult Kirk in uniform stood before me. He was telling me I was guilty. That Marc was dead. That he had burned in a fire.

  I tried to scream at Kirk, to tell him he was wrong. I tried to tell him that Marc had gone into the water but I couldn’t find him. I opened my mouth and tried to yell but no sound came out. Instead, my mouth and lungs started to fill with smoke. My lungs started burning! Burning. Burning. Smoke everywhere!

  I awoke with a start and gasped for air. What the hell was that about? This dreaming thing was getting out of hand. I couldn’t shake that feeling you get when you have a nightmare. The feeling that everything that happened in the dream was still there, just out of reach, maybe just on the other side of some weird alternate universe. Damn Ma and her science fiction.

  The smell of smoke lingered in my nostrils. I toed the ground and set the hammock to a gentle swing. I tried to reclaim my earlier calmness as I wondered what the dream could have meant. My efforts were almost immediately broken by the screams of a fire engine and I realized that the smell of smoke had gotten stronger. This was not in my head.

  I jumped up and ran to the front of the house just in time to see the fire truck pulling up.

  You have GOT to be kidding me!

  My rental car was fully engulfed in flames and putrid black smoke.

  What the hell!!! I felt like a total tool just standing there, watching helplessly as the Harmony Fire Department doused the sloppy mess. The acrid smell of burning rubber and the heat causing the windows to pop was so out of the ordinary that all of the neighbors, who were home, came out to watch.

  As the flames diminished and dirty soot water ran in a stream through the neighborhood gutter, one of the firefighters approached. “Is this your car, sir?”

  “It’s a rental. I just got it today.”

  He took of his helmet and scratched his head. “Hate to say it but it's completely totaled.”

  “Any idea how the fire could’ve started?”

  The firefighter tucked his helmet under his arm and gazed appreciatively at the now extinguished pile of blackened metal. “Ignition source could be electrical but it looks more like arson.”

  “What? Arson? You mean someone did this on purpose?”

  “I’m afraid so. Someone tossed something inside of it and it caught on fire. Maybe a rag or a lit match…I’ll know more after I examine it further.”

  I groaned out loud. “UGH!”

  “You have any enemies?”

  “I wish I knew! My last rental car had the windshield busted out.”

  “Looks like someone is trying to send you a message, son.”

  “I don’t even live here.” I gestured at the house behind me. “I’m just here visiting my folks.”

  “Could it be someone has something against your folks?”

  “Do you even know my folks? My dad is John Camden.”

  The firefighter broke into a grin. “Hey, I know him! He is always so helpful when I go into the hardware store. Your dad is good people. I can’t imagine anyone having anything against him.” He put his hat back on. “Must be you then, kid. Here comes Kirk, maybe he can help you out.”

  “Gee thanks,” I said to his retreating figure.

  Kirk let out a whistle as joined me on the lawn. “Well I’ll be damned, Camden. Who did you piss off this time?”

  “Kirk I didn’t do anything to anyone. Someone lit my car on fire and I want to know what you’re going to do about it?”

  “What would you LIKE me to do about it, big shot cop? It’s not like I can lift any prints.” Kirk smiled, “that thing is toast!” He turned me in feigned seriousness. “Is it possible that you did this on accident? You take up smoking recently?”

  “Cut the shit, Kirk. Someone seems to have taking a liking to vandalizing my cars and I’m worried about what they are going to do next.”

  Kirk scratched his chin as if he was seriously pondering my predicament. “That does seem to be a problem, doesn’t it.” He shifted gears. “Here you go.” Kirk handed me a piece of paper with a case number on it. “This here is the report number for the report I’ll be writing up. Report should be available within ten working days. You’re going to need a copy for the car rental agency of course.”

  “Thanks for nothing.”

  Kirk ignored my remark. “I’ll order a tow truck to get this thing out of here within the hours.” Kirk tipped his stupid hat at me and walked towards the car. He was halfway across the front lawn when he slowly spun back around. “Say, Jason. I heard you were over at Marge Freelander’s house yesterday.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention. “Yeah. So what?”

  “What were you doing over there?”

  “Putting my mind at ease.”

  “Well, I heard you were asking about Marc. You find out anything useful?”

  “Not a thing.”

  Kirk tipped his big ridiculous hat at me once again. “Well ok then.”

  I watched as Kirk drove slowly down the block. I was beginning to think he might do anything to keep me from looking into Mark’s disappearance any further.

  Maybe, just maybe he wasn’t the only one.

  Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Five

  The local tow company came and hauled the burned out car away. I washed down the street where the fireball had left char marks. I wanted to get it as clean as possible before mom or Dad came home and got too worried.

  Once I had cleaned up the majority of the mess, I jumped in the shower and tried to wash the scent of burning rubber out of my hair and nose. I shut off the water but took my time getting out. The buildup of steam in the tiny bathroom felt like a warm cocoon that I wasn’t entirely in a hurry to leave. I heard my cell phone ringing from my room. I quickly wrapped a towel around myself, ran down the hall to my room and grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

  A female voice said, “Yes. This is Joy Sullivan, returning a call from Jason Camden?”

  “This is Jason Camden. Thank you for calling me back Lieutenant. I used to live in Harmony, Montana and its my understanding that you were a police sergeant there at one time?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Do you remember opening a missing person cold case? The victim was Marc Forrester.”

  “How could I forget?”

  “It was that memorable?”

  “The kid went missing with zero clues. That is pretty unusual.”

  “Did you ever come up with anything? Any clues that the original investigation might not have discovered?”

  “Not particularly but I didn’t get very far before I was shut down.”

  “Shut down by whom?”

  “The police chief. He told me to stop. He said I was upsetting people by investigating it. I really think the only person I was upsetting was Kirk Johnson though. That guy was so jealous and he was worried I might outshine him. He was an asshole. Is he still working there?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  Joy continued, “I already had my application submitted here when shit started happening. I was done. I gave up. I didn’t push the issue because I was on my way out.”

  “What kind of shit started happening?”

  “Silly stuff. Incidents happened that, when considered by themselves, were completely insignificant. The doorbell ringing but when I answered; no one would be there. Flat tires, dead birds on the front porch, juvenile stuff.”

  “Do you think It was kids?”

  “Nope. I think someone was trying to rattle me. Even though they were juvenile attempts and nothing really harmful I truly believe it stemmed from my interest in Marc Forrester’s case.”

  “I’ve been in town a few days and I have been looking
in to Mark’s case as well. I’ve had a few weird things happen to me too. In fact, today, someone lit my car on fire.”

  “Damn! I would watch your back if I was you.”

  “Getting back to your investigation. Did you have any suspicions about what had happened to Mark?”

  “On the night Mark went missing, there was a party. I talked to several of the kids that were arrested and one kinda stood out. Ben something? I can’t remember his last name off the top of my head.”

  “That’s ok, I know who you mean.”

  “He wasn’t too happy about answering my questions. One of the other two arrested, said he thought he saw Mark riding his bike on the way home.”

  “Which kid?”

  I can’t remember his name. I interviewed both him and Ben simultaneously, and rather casually, and that Ben kid shut his friend up pretty quickly.”

  “That sounds pretty suspicious.”

  “I thought it was odd to say the least.”

  I think I had all the information I was going toget from Lt. Sullivan. “Thank you for calling me, LT.”

  “Anything else I can do for you?”

  “Not now. Can I call you again if I need to?”

  “Of course. Say, aren’t you a cop somewhere in California?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “I get the news here in Portland.”

  “Enough said.” I exhaled in frustration. “Seems like we can’t keep anything private anymore.”

  “Don’t sweat it, kid. Sounds like a good shoot.”

  “It was. They put me on the beach until the investigation is over but I know it’ll turn out in my favor.”

  “Take it from someone who’s been there a time or two. You’re not doing your job if someone isn’t complaining. Enjoy the respite while you can. The job will be there when you get back.”

  “IF I go back.”

  Sullivan laughed, “Portland is hiring!”

  “I’m good. Thanks.”

  “If you ever get tired of the bullshit out there in California, you just let me know. We don’t treat our cops like criminals here.”