by Douglas Hall
Turning on their flashlights, West and King scanned the interior and found the light switch. The inside of the boathouse was a revelation for both men. It was unlike anything they expected or could imagine. The interior with its oak panelling was pristine and orderly down to the leather chesterfield and hand-crafted Douglas fir table with four matching chairs. In line with the chesterfield was a wall-mounted, flat-screen television set. At the rear was a sink with a three-drawer cabinet, plus an overhead cupboard for dishes. On the counter was a microwave and coffee maker. A free-standing refrigerator completed the appliances and accessories. King discovered a variety of frozen foods on the shelves including a canister of expensive ground coffee that was half-full and a door rack lined bottles of fine chardonnay.
“This place wasn’t thrown together. It was professionally designed and expensive,” West said as he looked around. A closed door caught his interest. It opened onto steps that led down to a boat slip below the second floor where a sleek powerboat with twin 50hp outboard motors was moored. Hung on the wall was a selection of handy-man’s tools including wrenches, electric saw and hammers.
Returning to the upper level he described what he saw to King and said, “Religion really pays off. We are in the wrong business.”
When a knock came to the door, West took out the 9mm Beretta from his shoulder holster. King was behind him with his service revolver at the ready. Opening it to a smiling Mandy, West smiled with relief and said, “Welcome, do come in.”
“Thelma Jean,” Mandy said, “this is private investigator Paul West and this is Inspector Charlie King you probably remember them when you were shown the photograph of Cindy Madison.”
West shook hands, followed by King, “Thank you so much for coming and agreeing to talk with us. Do have a seat and make yourself comfortable.” Turning to Mandy he said, “How about putting on a pot of coffee? We could be here for a while. Will you join us?”
“Please,” mumbled Thelma Jean.
Mandy led the trembling girl to the chesterfield and sat down beside her for a moment before getting up, “Why don’t we all sit at the table where we can chat.”
When coffee arrived and the awkwardness eased, West began, “Inspector King and I showed the photograph of Cindy Madison to everyone in the dining room and no one, including you, said that they had ever seen her or someone looking like her. Then you came to the car to tell us you knew her. Why did you run away before we could talk to you?”
“I was afraid.”
“You have nothing to be afraid of now,” Mandy comforted, “you are with friends, and they will protect you.”
“Would you like to tell us how you came to know Cindy Madison?” West asked in a friendly voice. “When you are finished, I’ll tell you what brought us all the way from Canada to find a missing girl named Cindy Madison and, hopefully, bring her back to her parents. Is that all right with you?”
West and King had no idea what to expect and had previously agreed to just let her talk without challenging anything she said which would be recorded.
Thelma Jean started by saying she never knew a Cindy Madison. The girl in the photograph called herself Ashley Kirk. When they became friends and roommates, she told her about the upbringing she had in Canada. She was an only child from progressive parents who indulged her with attention and money and had virtual freedom to live a life not constrained by parental control.
Thelma Jean was also a single child but their lives were diverse. Her parents adhered to strict Evangelical beliefs one of which dictated that the father was the head of the household and was to be obeyed at all times without complaint. She had great difficulty following her father’s rigid rules of conduct that dictated how she should live her life. When it came to boys, they had to come from a church family, and there were strict guidelines as what she could do and where she could go in her free time: no shows, no dances, no smoking and no drinking. The church and its programs would to be her focal point.
In her last year of high school, she began running with what her father termed ‘Satan’s children’ and was soon caught up in a life of disobedience that included smoking, drugs, alcohol and experimental sex.
Ever since Thelma Jean was a small child, she attended church twice a day: for the morning and evening services. The afternoon was set aside to watch, as a family, Pastor Sammy Proctor’s hour-long telecast. Her father was devastated with Pastor Sammy’s fall from grace. When his son became an evangelist and built Sammy Pines, he became an avid supporter of Child Waiting with generous donations, and their two-week summer vacations were spent at Sammy Pines.
It all came to a head one night when she came home well after midnight and her parents were waiting up for her. In desperation, because her father smelt alcohol on her breath, he exploded in rage. The next morning, he had a long talk with Pastor Paul who came up with a solution. He would welcome Thelma Jean as a permanent staff member as long as she would obey the strict rules he laid down which included no association with males. It wouldn’t be a problem as there were only two males on staff, Arnold Gould, and his son Orville, who was repugnant and ignored. She was given an ultimatum: agree or pack her bags and never return. She accepted but vowed she would never to return.
“Did you ever regret agreeing to coming to Sammy Pines?” West asked.
“Every day, but what can I do about it? I might as well be in jail. Brock keeps a wicked eye on all of us and…” Thelma Jean held out her cup for a refill and shrugged.
“Do most of the girls feel the same as you?” King added.
“Yes, sir,” was the affirmative reply.
Thelma Jean had become relaxed. Being skilled at reading emotions, King and West felt they had reached a point whereby they could begin asking focussed questions.
Thelma Jean continued almost as though she were unburdening to friends, “Most of the girls come from similar situations, and as long as we don’t cross Brock, do what we are told and don’t complain, life is tolerable.”
“You are old enough to start a new life, why not up and leave?” West asked.
“And go where? I have no money. I get nothing from my parents, and the little I get here from guests as tips wouldn’t give me bus fare to Moody Brook. This is my home now. I have friends here. We support each other, and I like helping the new girls who arrive. It gives me a purpose. This is my life for now. Someday, I’d like to put all this behind me and find someone to settle down with. I want to have a normal life with a husband and children like everyone else. This is no life, believe me, but it beats the life I had before I came here.”
“How did you and Ashly become friends?” West asked.
“A few months after she arrived, we became roommates and liked each other. I think they call it bonding.”
“Did you and Ashley talk and share girl secrets?”
Thelma Jean’s eyes narrowed.
For a moment King thought West had gone too far and was relieved when she replied, “Big ones.”
“Such as?”
“The day before Ashley left for good, she told me that Pastor Paul had raped her in the boathouse.”
West and King reacted predictably. During their long and varied careers, they had heard many things and this would not be the first time a man was accused of rape by a woman he had once rejected.
“What else did she tell you?”
“I asked her how it happened and all she would say was Pastor Paul took her out for a ride in his boat, brought her back, and raped her. He told her never to mention it because no one would believe her, and she would have to leave.”
King had his notebook out and was writing.
“She did tell me she was scared that he might have made her pregnant because he didn’t wear a condom. She was two weeks late and was going to find out if she was pregnant.”
“Did she say what she would do if she was?” King asked.
“She said she would take steps.”
It was not all that often that Mandy was shaken,
but this time, she was and locked eyes with West who followed up with, “Take steps. Were those her exact words?”
“Yes, I’ll never forget them. I could tell by the look on her face that she meant it, and I knew if anyone heard her say that, she would be in real trouble.”
“You say if anyone heard her say that, just who is ‘anyone’?”
“Brock! She will not let anyone say a bad word about Pastor Paul, and those who did are gone. We laugh behind her back and said only a mistress would act like that.”
“Is she Pastor Paul’s mistress?” West asked.
“I don’t think so. She once said that she had met him when he was a teenager. Evidently, his father hired her to work in his ministry office. Anyway, she is old enough to be his mother and protects him like a mother, always hovering around him.”
“Do you think they…” West stopped.
“Do you mean do they have sex? I have no idea, but anything is possible with those two.” Thelma Jean’s eyes widened, “Brock looks after him better than any girlfriend.”
“You say looks after him better than any girlfriend?” West asked. “What do you mean by that?”
Thelma Jean thought for a moment, “I have nothing to prove it, but some of us thought she groomed girls for him to keep him happy and content.”
“Are you saying Brockhurst was her pimp?”
“Who knows but that was the rumour. But not me, I wasn’t pretty enough…Ashley was. The thing I remember was a while back, she said she didn’t trust him but wouldn’t say why. I can’t understand how he got her to the boathouse to rape her.”
“Do you know where Cindy Madison is? We’d like to talk to her,” West asked bluntly.
“You mean Ashley?”
“Yes, if that’s what you call her,” West was careful to keep his questioning in the present.
“Can I call her Cindy if that’s her real name?”
“Of course,” West replied with a smile, “I am sure she would like that.” This was a breakthrough. Thelma Jean was identifying with Cindy.
“I have no idea where Cindy is. No one around here has seen her, and they are beginning to ask questions.”
“What do you mean you have no idea?” West pressed.
Thelma Jean took another mouthful of coffee, “All I can tell you is what I know. When Cindy told me what happened, I said she had to go to the police. She said that is exactly what she planned to do, but she had to do something first thing in the morning.”
“Did she tell you what that was?” King asked.
Without a change of expression Thelma Jean replied, “She said she would tell Pastor Paul that she was going to the hospital, and if the pregnancy test proved positive, there was no way she would carry his bastard child. She also said if he got nasty, she would tell him that she would be going to the police and charging him with rape.”
“How was she going to get to the hospital?” West asked.
“She had become friends with one of the guests and would ask her if she would drive her to the hospital. That was the last I saw of her.”
West told King to go outside and get Chester. He had an idea.
PROCTOR WAS AT HIS DESK deep in thought when Brockhurst opened the door and closed it behind her, “My, but you are starting early. I got your text to come before breakfast so here I am. What is bothering you because something is bothering you. I can always tell.”
“I am not happy with the other day when those two grilled our staff and Brunson got into the act by belittling me. I don’t ever want a repeat, and I think it is time I made my position clear.”
Brockhurst sat down and thought for a moment before saying, “Don’t beat yourself up. It is not the end of the world. Gaylord was just being Gaylord. He blew off smoke and said his piece.”
“It’s more than that. He took over and was delivering orders as though he was the one who ran this place.”
“No one outside of the two of us heard what he had to say.”
“I did and I didn’t like it. I’ll take advice from him, that’s what I pay him for, but not orders. It’s about time I re-established who runs Sammy Pines, and it is me. I give the orders, and you support me.” As an afterthought he added. “I couldn’t do it without you.”
“I’ll always be the only one you can ever really trust. You are in total charge and don’t you ever forget it,” Brock’s tone was soothing and supportive.
“I intend to make sure everyone knows precisely that. I should have been front and centre when those two canvassed the staff about the missing girl. Instead, I hid in my study. It should have been me waving the baton not Gaylord Brunson.”
“The investigators went away empty-handed. No one on staff said they recognised the girl in the photograph. They won’t be back!” Brockhurst said with conviction.
“They will be back! Those two don’t give up so easily. Here is what I want you to do.”
“After breakfast and the clean-up, I want you to assemble the staff in the dining room.”
“What for?”
“I want to lay down the ground rules and remind everyone who is in charge. Come for me when everyone is assembled.”
“Be careful,” cautioned Brockhurst, “you could open up a hornet’s nest.”
“If father had done what I plan to do, and not let other people run him, he wouldn’t have gone to prison and be ending his days in a Boca Raton Retirement Home with his memories.”
“By other people, do you mean me?”
“You know who I mean.”
“Thanks for that vote of confidence.”
“You are the only one I can trust.”
Seventeen
KING TURNED OFF his recorder and glanced at West. They waited in silence for Culpepper to speak not knowing how the sheriff would respond to what he had just heard. Culpepper raised his head which had been resting on his ample chest and his eyes had been closed as he listened. When they opened, he sighed and said, “I had no idea of what you had in store for me when you called after midnight to say you had to see me and it couldn’t wait until morning. But you were right to call. This grieves me deeply. I arrested Pastor Sammy and the thought of having to arrest his son is a bitter pill to swallow.”
“I am sure it is, sheriff,” West said, “but we might be getting close to solving the disappearance of Cindy Madison if Thelma Jean was telling the truth. If she is to be believed, the very least you will have to charge Pastor Paul with will be rape, the very most could be murder…that is if Cindy Madison is dead and not just missing.”
Culpepper locked eyes with King, “Do you agree with your partner’s assessment?”
“I do, sheriff. We both have had a long experience with uncollaborated statements and take them with scepticism until proven of value. We know we are not giving you much solid evidence, but you have to admit what she had to tell us demands further investigation.”
"Indeed, it does and I am not dismissing it out of hand. But before I make any move to go before a judge and obtain an arrest warrant, I need means, motive and opportunity. Find me evidence that a rape took place, and it is tied to Pastor Paul. You will need more than just the word of this girl convincing though she may be.
“It is up to you two to get me solid proof. Embedding Miss Perkins inside Sammy Pines was a stroke of brilliance. Without her on the inside, you would never have gotten this much. What happened to this girl Thelma Jean?”
“She couldn’t return to Sammy Pines, and I had a word with Chester,” West replied. “I asked him if she could stay at his parent’s farm until we get this sorted out.”
Culpepper held up his hand and chuckled, “Did Chester tell you that I have used the farm as a safe house in the past. His parents know the ropes. She will be well looked after and protected. His father is quite a hunter. He has his guns and knows to use them.”
“Yes, he told us that.”
“Do you think she is in danger?”
“Quite possibly,” King replied, “and she is
scared.”
“Is she a flight risk?”
West nodded, “Yes. There is no way that she can ever trust Proctor or Brockhurst now that she knows what happened to Cindy Madison. I don’t think there is any question about her doing a runner if she thought she was in danger.”
“You can’t lose her, and you did right to get her to the Bain farm.”
“I called Mandy and told her that we would be seeing you within the hour and would be calling her back with further instructions.”
“Do you think this girl…”
“Thelma Jean Turner,” offered West.
“Yes, Thelma Jean Turner will trust you two to do what she is told?”
“Right now, she has no choice, we’re all she’s got. As to the flight risk, I believe I have an idea,” West said. “I asked Chester if it would be possible for her to stay at the farm with his parents. He called his mother and, without giving details other than to say it was a police matter, said they needed a safe place for Thelma Jean to stay for the indefinite future. Without hesitation, his mother said she would be welcome for as long as necessary.”
Culpepper looked at his watch. It was well after one. “Where is she now?”
“I told Mandy to take her to the farm immediately. That was over an hour ago.”
“It is not the first time I’ve made it worthwhile for Chester’s parents in the past, and they can be trusted and she will be in safe hands. She’ll need clothes if she stays for any length of time. If anyone found her clothes missing, it would be a dead giveaway that she had bolted. This way it will keep them guessing.”
“Mandy has that all covered when I told her what we had planned as soon as Thelma Jean agreed. She is about the same build as Mandy, so she is going to let her have some of her clothes to tide her over. She will call Thelma Jean in the morning and get a list of toiletries that she might want.”
“You three think of everything. Tell Mandy to drop by the office on her way to get whatever the girl needs in town, and I’ll have Chester set up a tracking device and Mandy can attach it.”