by B. T. Lord
“Great. I’ll go grab that list now and see what they have to say.” As Ellis made his way to the group, Jace squeezed Cammie’s arm. “I can feel you champing at the bit. Don’t forget babe, this isn’t your case. Or your jurisdiction.”
“I know. Old habits die hard, I guess.”
It did kill her not to be questioning the men, but she’d seen what a good officer Ellis Martin was. She was sure he was asking the same questions she’d ask, and putting together the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle in the same order she would.
Still, she felt like a dog whose favorite bone had been taken away. Unless she could find a way to sidle over there and pretend she wasn’t eavesdropping, she had no choice but to look away and try to ignore it all.
A cold breeze blew up and she burrowed against Jace. Now that she was standing around without anything to do, she felt the cold wiggle its way past her protective clothing. She pulled the scarf up past her nose so only her eyes were visible. Jace felt her shivering.
“Maybe we should go. There’s nothing more we can do here and you’re cold.”
“Unfortunately, you and I discovered the body. I’m sure Ellis will have questions for us.”
He raised an eyebrow. Since when were Cammie and Martin on a first name basis? First, she’d looked up the dude on the computer. Now they were buddy buddy. He felt the jealousy burning in the pit of his stomach. He tried not to glare as Ellis rejoined them.
“What do you think, Dr. Rhys?” he asked the doctor.
“I saw no bruises or contusions other than those I’d expect to see from such a high fall. I don’t smell alcohol on her, but that doesn’t preclude the possibility that she may have a history of drug use that impaired her judgment.”
“Any idea when time of death occurred?”
Rhys glanced at Ellis. “I can only give you a ball park figure.”
“Take your best shot.”
By the sour look on his face, it was obvious that was the last thing the doctor wanted to do. However, with Ellis giving him an expectant look, he had no choice. “You’ll notice the stiffness in the upper body which usually occurs twelve hours after death.” He pulled up the pants leg and pointed to the reddened skin in the lower portion of her legs. “Livor Mortis shows she was lying on the rocks for at least 10 to 12 hours. Taking into account the cold temperatures last night, as well as the fact that this obviously happened during low tide or else she’d be out to be sea right now, I’d estimate she died between ten pm and two am. But don’t quote me on that.”
“Were you ever called to attend her or her family?” Ellis asked.
Greg nodded. “Her late husband spent last summer at Munson Cottage, which is right above us. I’d be called in occasionally when he was having a bad night.” He glanced down at Violet. “If she did start medicating herself, I can’t say I blame her. Edward died a painfully slow, tragic death. She was completely devoted to him. To see someone you love waste away like that…” He looked at Ellis. “Mind you, that’s just conjecture on my part. I never saw anything to indicate that. But we never know what goes on in the privacy of one’s home, do we?”
“I’ll need you to perform an autopsy to rule out any possible foul play.”
Greg narrowed his eyes. “You think she was murdered?”
“Too early to say. But we need to be certain.” The doctor grimly nodded. “After you’re done, is there a place the body can be kept until arrangements can be made?”
“Of course. I keep a freezer in the back of my clinic where the bodies of those who die during the winter are kept until spring when they can be buried.”
Just like Doc, Cammie thought. An image of the cantankerous doctor filled her mind’s eye. If this was her case, he’d be bitching and moaning about the cold wind, the messy sand getting into his clothes and shoes, and the terrible inconvenience of carrying the body up a flight of metal stairs to his waiting van. He’d be totally insufferable.
God, how she missed him.
She followed the three men as Jace and Ellis assisted Rhys in bagging the body. Between the trio, they managed to get Violet’s remains up the steps and into the doctor’s station wagon.
As he drove away, Ellis turned to Cammie. “Glenn informed me that Mrs. Munson’s eldest son Teddy left Eagla last week. Do you mind accompanying me to their cottage? If her other son Andrew is up there, the sight of a familiar face may help ease the shock.”
“No problem.” She walked over to Jace and told him where she was going. When she saw the look on his face, she said, “You know Andrew was always a bit of a momma’s boy. The news of Violet’s death is going to hit him hard, especially if it comes from a complete stranger.” She gave him a quick kiss. “I’m just helping out, that’s all. I’ll be alright.”
He watched Cammie and Ellis drive off. For someone who was such a good investigator, she’d completely misread his disapproval.
It wasn’t difficult to find Munson Cottage. It was the only house on the bluff. And it was so huge, to call it a cottage seemed the height of arrogance.
They drove down the long driveway and stopped in front of the garage where Violet’s Land Rover was still parked. Parked on the other side away from the house was a seventeen-foot pleasure craft.
“At this time of year, boats like this are usually taken out of the water and winterized,” Ellis explained.
“Maybe Andrew or Teddy liked to fish,” Cammie suggested.
“Does it look like the boat you saw?”
“It’s about the same size. But I can’t be sure.”
They got out of the vehicle and approached it. They looked inside, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. When they turned towards the house, they saw for the first time the front door standing wide open.
The two exchanged concerned glances as they cautiously approached. The first sight that greeted them when they entered the house was the broken lamp on the floor. There were drops of blood near the shattered remains of the light bulb and the lampshade itself, lying a few feet away, was crushed inwards.
“Andrew?” Cammie called out. “It’s Sheriff Cammie Farnsworth. Are you here?” There was no response.
“Why don’t you take the upstairs?” Ellis suggested. “I’ll check out the first floor and the basement.” The two officers separated.
Slowly walking about, the deputy noted the empty ashtray and lighter sitting on the end table next to the armchair. He frowned. The lighter was long and unwieldly, not what one would normally use to light a cigarette. Yet he saw no signs of smoking. No butts, no packages, nothing to indicate that Mrs. Munson and her family were smokers. Poking around, he spied a cell phone just behind the chair. Its front was shattered. Nearby was a paperback romance lying upside down.
There were a few moving boxes stacked near the fireplace with the names of the rooms they’d been taken from written in black magic marker on the front.
After finding nothing more of interest, he checked out the kitchen, then headed towards the basement. He turned on the light switch and started down the cold stone steps. He’d just reached the bottom when he came to a stop.
His arms and the back of his head abruptly prickled with goosebumps.
Something was here that didn’t belong.
A memory came rushing at him, a memory so strong it took his breath away. He savagely shoved it back to the recesses of his mind. He had no time to think about that now. Later, when he was alone, he’d give it its proper attention. But not now.
He pushed himself forward. Making his way around the basement, he was unable to shake the growing heaviness in his chest. He unclipped the flashlight from his police belt and shone it into the darker corners where the dim light from the lightbulb didn’t reach. The area looked empty. But he knew it wasn’t.
He entered the old darkroom and felt as though he’d walked into a thick, gelatinous mass of dense energy. There was a malevolence lurking within this room that was palpable. Smothering.
Damn it, I came to these islands to pu
t all that behind me.
He heard footsteps on the stairs. A moment later, Cammie poked her head in. “The house is clear.” She stepped inside and he watched as her eyes widened slightly as they roamed the room.
She feels it too, he thought to himself.
“I’d heard one of the Munsons was a photographer. I think it was Violet’s great grandfather-in-law. Some of his work appeared in magazines. And there are a row of photos up in the living room that I’m assuming are his. This must be where he worked.” She looked around her. “Jeez, this place is weird. There’s not much in here, but I feel as though I’m intruding somehow.” She glanced at him and gave an embarrassed smile. “Silly, huh?”
He shook his head. “I felt the same thing too.”
They poked around. It was Ellis who spotted the brick lying on the ground and the hole in the wall. He and Cammie knelt down beside it.
“I wonder what was in there?” she asked.
“Could it be Violet’s children hid stuff in there when they were growing up?” he asked. “Their own version of pirate treasure? Maybe Andrew or Teddy remembered their stash and brought it upstairs to pack as a childhood keepsake.”
“It’s possible.” She glanced at him with a smile on her face. “Did you have your own stash of buried pirate treasure?”
He grinned. “Of course. No self-respecting rowdy kid would be caught dead without his super secret cache of priceless objects.”
They left the darkroom and went over to the boxes where they quickly found the photo albums. Ellis removed one and he and Cammie flipped through it. They paused at one that showed a very young Edward on the porch of the cottage speaking to a much older, white haired gentleman.
“The man on the left is Violet’s husband, Edward.” Cammie explained. “He’s the one who died in September. The other must be his great grandfather. What was his name again? Oh yeah, it was Philip.”
“Philip looks downright frightening, doesn’t he?” Ellis asked.
“He does, doesn’t he? Not exactly someone you’d want to piss off.”
There were few photos that featured Phil. In the ones that did, he wore the same cold, harsh expression.
“They must have walked on eggshells around him,” Ellis mused. “In each photograph, he looks as though he’s swallowed a lemon.”
They replaced the photo album in the box and made their way upstairs, both grateful to get away from the overly oppressive feeling. Ellis showed Cammie the broken cell phone, the overturned book, and the items on the end table.
“I need to get Forensics in from the mainland. Right now, it looks to me as though Mrs. Munson was sitting in the chair when she was surprised. She may have been so startled, she dropped her cell phone and book. Whatever it was that frightened her made her fear enough for her safety that she used the lamp as some sort of weapon.”
“What makes you think it was Violet sitting in the chair?” she teased.
He pointed to the book, its cover filled with hearts and a couple with their arms around each other. “What do you think?”
She laughed. “Okay, it was probably Violet. I just can’t figure out the ashtray and lighter though. Even if they were smokers, I’m not seeing any cigarette packs or butts.” Cammie abruptly dashed outside. She returned in a few moments. “I checked around the front. No butts or ashtrays out there.”
“Perhaps she was expecting a guest who did smoke.”
“Wouldn’t they bring their own lighter? And when you consider that her husband died of lung cancer, I’m not sure Violet would be keen to have anyone smoking around her.”
Ellis nodded. “Good point.”
“Did you happen to notice the clothes Violet was wearing when we found her?”
“I did. They were very similar to the ones we found on the mannequin.” He gave her a slight smile. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Only if you believe the mannequin was a test to see where Violet’s body would end up if she fell into the water instead of the rocks.”
He nodded. “I think we need to check the cliff.”
They secured the house and started off across the lawn. “What was the weather like last night?” he asked.
“Cold and overcast.”
“So the night was dark?”
“Pretty much.”
“We have a woman who goes for a walk along a steep cliff on a cold, dark night wearing only a light sweatshirt. It doesn’t make any sense, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t. The property is large. Why the cliffs?”
“I’m not liking what I’m seeing so far,” Ellis said grimly. “A woman who seems to have been frightened enough to run out into the night without a coat or flashlight and ends up at the bottom of a cliff.”
Cammie shivered. And it wasn’t from the cold.
The two officers continued along the path cut into the dead grass. There were several pairs of footprints in the dirt, making it impossible to tell who they belonged to. They crested a slight hill and saw the ocean laid out before them as far as the eye could see. They also saw something else that caused their blood to run cold.
“Shit,” the two officers muttered simultaneously before they broke out into a run.
Approaching the cliff, they saw a body lying motionless on the ground. Fearing the worst, Ellis knelt down, rolled the body onto its back and checked for vital signs. “It’s Andrew, Violet’s son,” Cammie said when she saw who it was.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Two days had passed since Mrs. Madachuck found the note in their mailbox. Emmy had it immediately delivered to Forensics. They were now awaiting the results of DNA tests.
Rather than be frightened, it only strengthened the young woman’s resolve to continue tracking down all she could find on Miles Mynter. After receiving the disappointing news about the lack of fingerprint evidence on the letter, Emmy drove to Judge Drury’s home. She obtained a signed court order requesting the Department of Defense to release all medical records, including dental, in order to identify a missing person they believed to be Miles Mynter. After getting the order, she then spent the morning on the phone going through the inevitable red tape before she was finally able to connect to someone who would help her.
“His file should be here the day after tomorrow,” she told Rick when she finally hung up. “As soon as we get it, I’ll send it off to Colin to see if there’s a match.”
She looked at the clock and was astonished that she’d been on the phone all morning. It was now close to noon-time. No wonder she was hungry.
She was about to get up to retrieve her ham and cheese sandwich from the fridge when the front door opened and Doug MacMunn entered. The editor of the Twin Ponds Gazette held a purple manila folder under his arm.
“I copied what I found so far on Miles Mynter. I’m still looking because it seems the articles written about a few months after he vanished were misfiled. I’m sure they’re in the storeroom somewhere. His antics with the townspeople and the board of selectmen made for great headlines. His disappearance was the talk of the town for at least six months.”
Emmy came up to the counter that separated the entrance to HQ and where she and Rick had their desks. “That’s great, Mr. MacMunn,” she said as she took the file. “We really appreciate your help.”
“You can pay me back by letting me know as soon as you find out if the skeleton really is that of Mynter’s. Although I’m sure the people who knew him are long gone, the mystery of his disappearance has entered the canon of legend around here, right next to the death of those teenagers.”
“You’ll definitely get the exclusive,” Rick promised, allowing himself a moment to imagine a picture of his handsome, smiling face gracing the front page of the next edition of the Gazette.
Emmy’s hunger was forgotten as she and Rick sat together at his desk and flipped through the articles. They quickly found a large black and white photograph of Mynter staring back at them. The two were finally able to look upon the face of th
e man who may have lain buried in the ground for over 60 years.
“He looks to be around the same height as the skeleton,” Rick said. “Looks pretty smarmy though, doesn’t he? Kind of an arrogant know-it-all.”
Emmy had to agree. The face looking at the camera was not pleasant. Rather than a smile, it was more of a sneer. And his eyes were devoid of any warmth and friendliness.
“Definitely not the kind of guy you’d want to get on the wrong side of,” she murmured.
“Shit, from what you were telling me, the entire town was on his wrong side. Look at this article. He actually picked a fight with a 79 year old woman because she let her dog pee on the edge of his property. Not on his grass, but on the road up next to it. He makes Ebenezer Scrooge look like a cupcake.”
Emmy turned a surprised eye to him. “You’ve read ‘The Christmas Carol’?”
“Hell no. I watch the Mr. Magoo version on TV every year.” He skimmed the articles until he found the first that mentioned the disappearance. “This backs up what Zee said. Mynter was supposed to meet up with Mr. Zevon on the morning of October 31st, 1954, but he never showed. According to this, the last time he was seen was on the evening of October 30th at approximately 6:30 pm when he stopped off at Lucinda’s Grocery Store.”
“That must have been what was here before the Emporium.”
“It says he purchased some milk, cereal, bread, a box of pasta and a package of ground beef. He said good-bye to the grocery clerk and left the store. After that, he fell off the face of the earth.” His eyes suddenly widened. “Whoa. Does the date he disappeared mean anything to you?”
Emmy caught her breath. “It’s the day before the teenagers vanished!”
“Exactly. Wow, even from a gazillion miles away, Cammie nailed it. She wondered if those kids were killed because they saw something they weren’t supposed to see.” Their gazes met. “They must have seen Mynter being buried.”