by K P Stafford
“If it weren’t for tourists, we probably wouldn’t even know an outside world existed, to be honest. Maybe that’s not a good thing. We don’t trust outsiders, which isn’t a bad thing, but it could also be the thing that causes us the most trouble. Perhaps we’ve locked too much away, even from ourselves.” John’s words trailed off. He wasn’t making a lot of sense, but his last statement sparked her curiosity.
“John, do you remember any dark secrets in this town’s past that someone would be after?”
He sat in silence for a few long seconds, lines etched across his forehead as he was deep in his thoughts. When he finally looked up at Lexi, his face was contorted, like his mind was grasping for a lost memory. “That’s a good question. So much time has passed since childhood, but there was something. Something that rattled our grandparents back then. I think maybe they wanted the past buried. I do remember as kids, we would all try to figure out what the big deal was. Of course, stories of curses led our imaginations all over the place. We eventually forgot all about it though.”
“Maybe it’s time you and the others start trying to remember, so we can figure this out.”
“You’re right, but sometimes the lines between myth and legend get blurred. We were so young and our parents were insistent that some things never get mentioned again.”
“Well, we need to start jogging your memory, even if you think it’s silly, and try to put some pieces together. The library should have old newspapers and documents, but Ms. Williams seems awfully protective of anything like that, and she’s not real happy when I ask about it.”
The phone rang causing them both to jump a little. John picked it up. The look on his face told Lexi something else was up. He hung up and looked at her. “Speaking of Ms. Williams, that was her. Someone has broken into the library.”
“Does she know what’s missing?”
“No, says she saw the mess and called us straight away. We better get down there.”
10
Ms. Williams clutched her chest as John and Lexi approached her, the bandage still visible on her hand from the fiasco with her cat. She recounted how she entered the library, like any other time. She unlocked the door, went inside and began turning lights on. That’s when she noticed the door to the backroom was slightly ajar. On her husband’s grave, she swore she never leaves it open. When she peeked inside, she noticed files and boxes had been gone through.
John looked around the room, asking her if she noticed anything missing. She replied that she couldn’t really tell because she hadn’t been through every file herself. That remark piqued Lexi’s suspicion. It was the opposite of what she had said to her on a prior visit to the library looking for old files. “Ms. Williams, the other day you told me you’d been through all of the files.”
She glared at Lexi for a moment before speaking. “Yes, I have been through all of the files in the main section of the library, not these files.”
“So, you lied or you’re hiding something?”
“Definitely not!” Her snippy tone bit through the air, “The files you were looking for would have been in the main section. I didn’t find it relevant that I haven’t been through the files in this room.”
She had a point, but Lexi didn’t like her attitude. Of course she couldn’t let her dislike for someone get in the way of an investigation. Her personal feelings were moot, but her gut was telling her there was something off about the woman’s story.
“Right,” John broke in, “But it may be relevant now.” He said as he looked over his notes. “We all know you close the library to take your lunch. You were late getting back today. Can you tell us where you were?”
“I met with that reporter and then I had errands to run.”
“What kind of errands,” John asked.
“The personal kind. If you ask me, whoever vandalized the cemetery could have done this. Apparently, nothing is sacred in this town anymore. Are you doing anything to find out who is going around destroying things?”
“We are looking into it, but a murder investigation takes precedence. I’m sure you’re aware of that.”
“Yes. I’m sorry. Everything has me on edge lately. I know you have a job to do.”
“We’ll let you know when we have more information for you. In the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt to hire an assistant or have someone stay here with you.”
John wanted to believe it was just some kid, or kids, pulling pranks because of Halloween, but this was turning into more than a coincidence of events.
As they headed out of the back room to leave the library, Lexi noticed a small piece of cloth lodged in a splinter on the door. She grabbed the tweezers out of her backpack and a small plastic evidence bag. She didn’t know if it was a clue, or how long it had been lodged there, but Marcus Finche would be happy to look at it. As town coroner he’d also taken an interest in forensics. It began as a hobby for him, but over the past two years he’d invested quite a bit of time and money into setting up a small lab. This little fiber would give him something to look into. It probably had nothing to do with their case, but it would be nice if it lead them in a new direction to check out.
11
John decided it was time to question Mr. Norman Davis, the reporter who had come into town a few days earlier. Not only did he have the whole town stirred up, but everything weird going on had started after his arrival. He was staying in a little bungalow close to the boardwalk, the real tourist section of Cryptic Cove that was nestled into a small cove on the ocean shore.
The boardwalk was practically empty this time of morning. The colder breeze from the ocean could bite right through you. Store owners and shopkeepers were busy getting ready to open for when the tourists would start emerging from their hotel rooms and wander around looking at the sights. The bungalows were at the far end, tucked into the tree line that surrounded a small beach. The reporter was registered into number nine. It was the most secluded, and probably one Lexi would have chosen if she were a writer and needed to be away from all the noise of the boardwalk.
She raised her hand to knock on the door. John stopped her and pointed to the blood on the doorknob. He pulled out his gun before nodding for Lexi to knock on the door. They listened, but didn’t hear anything. Lexi dug around in her bag, pulled out a latex glove and slipped it over her hand so she could try the doorknob to see if it was unlocked. The knob turned easily, but the blood was still damp, probably from all the fog in the air, which would make it impossible to tell how long it had been there. She pushed the door open so John could go inside to check things out while she stayed on the small porch and looked around the area to see if anything else was out of the ordinary. After a few minutes, John called her to come inside. Norman Davis lay on the floor, blood covering his face from a deep gash above his left eye. He’d been conked on the head with something heavy, from the looks of it. Lexi looked around the small room but didn’t find anything he could’ve been hit with.
John looked at her as he pulled out his cell phone. “The sheriff won’t be happy about this.”
Lexi shook her head in agreement. “Have you noticed we tend to get our murders in sets of two.”
“I was trying not to.” John said as he walked over to inspect the body while waiting for the sheriff’s office to answer. “You better get Marcus out here to take the body into town.”
Lexi pulled out her cell phone and called Marcus Finche. He said he’d be there in about half an hour. She relayed the message to John. He nodded as he dug around in the reporter’s pockets.
“Here’s his car keys.” John said as he tossed them to her. “Go see what you can find in it. This room is pretty bare. I don’t even see his camera or a laptop.”
She left the room thinking how odd it was that none of his equipment was in his room. But then again, it could be smart. People had been known to break into these little bungalows. With any luck he knew his stuff would be safer in his car. If not, then they’d have to consider this a robbery gone b
ad and not part of the ongoing murder investigation.
She clicked the button, heard the sound of the locks popping up and opened the driver’s side door. Typical reporter. He practically lived in his car. Food wrappers, empty coffee cups. It wasn’t as bad as she’d seen in the city, but it was still pretty bad. With a gloved hand she moved some trash around, looking to see if a computer or camera was hiding underneath. She found nothing.
Lexi climbed out of the car and walked to the trunk. She was a bit reluctant to pop it open, afraid she’d find a worse mess than the one she just dug through. She inhaled and clicked the trunk release button on the fob. The latch released and the trunk opened a few inches. Here goes, she thought, as she pushed the trunk lid open. Bingo! The interior of the man’s car looked like a slob lived in it, but his trunk was pristine. Everything was neatly organized; file folders, his laptop, his camera and accessories. Lexi let out a sigh of relief. Hopefully she could find some clues in his files or on his computer. Luckily Jake was headed home, so if she needed a hacker to get into the computer files, Jake was the guy. His hacking skills weren’t a fact he let everyone know about, but since he’d helped with a few cases that required more computer skills than Lexi had, he’d finally told her about them. Now he hacked away at anything that gave them problems.
12
John sent Lexi home early, knowing that Jake would be returning home. He asked if she’d take the files and computer home with her and have Jake start digging into the contents. She knew Jake would want to be updated on everything that had happened the past few days, so she agreed. She couldn’t wait to see him, but she also couldn’t wait to run some things by him and get his opinion. He was often more objective about things than she was, especially if it involved friends, family or emotions, and so far, this case included all three. It hadn’t been mentioned in awhile, but Lexi was still very concerned about the tomb that had been defaced, her last name on the crypt, and how it all tied into Shirley’s death.
The one lead and suspect they had was now dead. He couldn’t give them any answers. She thought about why someone would kill him. He had been snooping around the town and made enemies of almost everyone. Anyone could have killed him, but the majority of the town’s residents were kind, caring people. Of course, the worst could be brought out in people, causing them to do things they wouldn’t normally do to protect themselves or their secrets. Whoever had killed him must have felt threatened. Or it had been a robbery gone bad, but for some reason, the killer hadn’t had time to get the reporter’s keys to go through his car. She wasn’t ruling out that possibility. She hoped it was the more likely possibility, but the niggling in her gut told her she was probably wrong. She first suspected Decatur Williams, but Finche’s time of death estimate didn’t correlate with the time Mrs. Williams had met with him. Her alibi was solid.
Grams and Agatha excused themselves after they’d all pitched in to clean up after dinner. This gave Jake and Lexi time to catch up and cuddle on the couch in front of a toasty fire. She carried a tray of tea and cookies into the living room so they could settle in.
Lexi snuggled under Jake’s arm, enjoying the quiet and peace. She wanted to discuss things with him, but just being beside him, breathing in his scent, was more needed than anything else at the moment. They had wedding plans to talk about, too. Unfortunately, it didn’t appear that a wedding would be happening anytime soon. She let out a long sigh. The circumstances and not knowing about the Danforth who was buried in the local cemetery raised a lot of doubts. Was she a descendant of the guy? And why had the people of Mystic Cove all but removed his existence from the town records? She hadn’t voiced her concerns to anyone. She knew she had to share them with Jake, but a big part of her was afraid to find out the truth. Afraid that Jake couldn’t handle the truth if it turned out to be bad news.
Jake rubbed her arm and kissed her on top of the head. His presence was warm and cozy. It was nice to have him home. She’d missed him more than she’d ever expected to. Secretly, she hoped he wouldn’t have to go on many business trips like this.
She felt him take in a deep breath, so she raised up and looked at him. “You want to know what’s been going on?”
“Yeah, but I also want to sit here quietly, with you, and not think about anything else in the world. But, I know you and John have a case to solve, and if I can help out in any way, I want to.”
She grabbed the reporter’s laptop and handed it to Jake. “You can start with this. I haven’t even tried to look at it.”
“See, I knew you were ready to jump right in,” he said, a wide grin on his face. “It’s not like you to not be nosy and want to jump into something. Why did you wait for me?”
“I know, but I have a weird feeling about this case, and I think I’m afraid of what I’m going to discover. Besides, we just got the laptop today and I haven’t had time.”
Jake reached out and squeezed her hand. “It’s going to be okay. Whatever we discover, we will deal with it.”
“What if the secrets in this town are something we can’t recover from?”
“Lexi, you know these people are strong and resilient. They’ll be okay. They’re a lot tougher than you give them credit for.”
“It’s not them I’m worried about.”
“Stop worrying, at least until we find out if there’s something to worry about.”
Jake booted up the laptop while Lexi started digging through some of the paper files of Norman Davis. Some of the papers were really old. Some were new printouts of old documents. Most of them were about the town, dating back only about one hundred and fifty years. She grabbed the last folder of papers and flipped it open. These files dated back to the late seventeen hundreds, the time of the previous Danforth that had lived Cryptic Cove. As she scanned them, a few local surnames stuck out. The ancestors had still lived in the area.
Jake turned the computer screen towards Lexi. “This is kind of odd. He’s taken a lot of pictures around town, but for some reason he has a lot of pictures of Dell Chimay. I think he was following him.”
“That is odd. He’s a retired postal worker. I’m guessing he’d know almost all of the families that live around here. I wonder what that has to do with anything though.”
“That’s a good question.” Jake said as he scrolled through more images on the computer.
Lexi flipped through the last file folder some more. Inside was a paper on something called coffin torture. It was complete with images. Supposedly, people were put into a metal or wooden cage and then tortured in public, or put on display in the town square so the town’s people could poke, gouge or throw things at the person locked inside.
Another paper in the same file was an order receipt from the local hardware company. She checked the list. Many of the items could be used for such a contraption as this coffin torture thing. She gasped when she read the name on the receipt.
“What’s wrong? Did you find something?” Jake asked.
She showed him the pages and the receipt. “Maybe this is why the reporter was following Mr. Chimay so closely.”
Jake looked at the information. Concern crossed his face. “You should have John check into this. If Chimay caught the guy following him and he has something to hide, he could be a suspect, at least in the death of the reporter.” Jake looked at her, “I want you to promise you’ll let John handle this. I don’t want you going off on your own and confronting this guy. He could be dangerous.”
She stuffed the pages back into the folder and laid it on the coffee table before picking up her cup of tea. “I know. I’ll let John deal with this.” She assured Jake, but her mind was already reeling with questions and gruesome images of someone being put on display and tortured in such a heinous manner. What if he had been building this for Shirley, but things got out of hand at her place when he tried to kidnap her or something. She put the cup of tea down and grabbed the folder again. The guy could be building this thing for the upcoming Halloween set at the town square. That
wasn’t a far fetched idea, was it?
Jake turned sideways, his eyes laser focused and his expression serious, “I mean it Lexi. You let John deal with this guy.”
“I will. That thing scares me.” She said, pointing to the folder.
Jake went back to work on the computer files. She could tell he had his doubts because trouble seemed to find her, and yeah, sometimes she did go off on her own to investigate. But, she was trying to do better and not get herself into situations, with bad guys or with Jake.
13
Lexi showed John the papers and photos that she and Jake had discovered on the reporter’s laptop. There was still a lot to go through, but John agreed that he needed to speak with Mister Dell Chimay and find out what he knew. He grabbed a cup of coffee to go and told her he’d be gone an hour or so. Mr. Chimay lived on a farm just outside of town.
Lexi flipped through more of the reporter’s files, but didn’t find anything significant, so she decided to stare at the diner across the street. It was the first place she’d seen Jake after she’d arrived in town the year before.
She started thinking about the current case. Was it possible that Dell had killed Shirley and the reporter? What would he gain from digging into the town secrets? He was always a friendly guy, but that didn’t always mean anything when it came to secrets; whether someone wanted to hide them or reveal them.
A large man entering the diner caught her attention. It was Dell Chimay. Crap, John was gone to speak to him. She dialed John’s cell phone number and heard it ringing from his office. Double crap! He’d left his phone at the office, which was something he was good at because he wasn’t used to carrying one. Surely he’d be back soon when he discovered that Dell wasn’t at home. Of course, it’d take him twenty minutes to get to Dell’s place and another twenty minutes to get back into town. A whole forty minutes, and that was if he didn’t run into anyone to chat with. Another thing John was good at was chatting with people for long periods of time, sometimes losing track of time.