A Tale of Two Lenores

by Terry Mattingly

  “Detective Travers is correct,” Casey Scott remarked. “I definitely am not Lenore Collins, but after some plastic surgery to hide Larry Canner’s handiwork, I will go in.”

  “NO,” Scott thundered.

  “Why not David? Because I am your sister?” She taunted. “Double standard, huh? Throw the detective’s girl to the wolves but protect your own?”

  “Dammit, Casey Jo. You narrowly missed rape and murder once this month. I want you out of this one.”

  “Special Agent Scott, I am a trained FBI agent.” Casey pronounced. “This is my case and I have as much to gain from nailing Luis Alvarez for murder as Lenore Collins does. As you just said, he is the one who is ultimately responsible for killing Brad. I will go over your head with this one, brother. You can’t send a civilian in unless there is no alternative. I am that alternative.” She stood with arms crossed and jaw set, challenging her brother.

  Preston watched the stare down between the brother and sister agents. “I warned you, Scott, how Travers would react to your suggestion and rightly so. A crucial job such as this needs a professional operative. This is not a TV show where an agent will sweep in and rescue the untrained operative at the last moment,” Preston objected. “I also do not think that you, Ms. Scott, are a suitable candidate for the job at this time. You are too emotionally involved. I suggest the two of you discuss this with your supervisors, and perhaps a psychologist. Now, let us direct this conversation back to Hylton.”

  Shane and Casey both stood staring at David Scott, resolutely.

  “Enough,” Preston barked, forcing the three to stop the childish stare down. “Let us get back to business. DNA results will confirm the identity of the fire victims. With Ms. Scott and Charlie Belk as witnesses, we can close the case of Dr. Collins’ murder. The arson investigators will continue their work at both sites.”

  “The FBI will continue to root out the interstate drug ring operating from Hylton and we will appreciate HPD’s cooperation,” David Scott put in.

  “What about your suspected leak?” Shane challenged.

  As an answer, Scott produced several photos of a fashionably and expensively dressed couple. The woman was tall, willowy, and gorgeous. Her red hair flowed over her shoulders, only partially obscuring the view of breast exposed by the deeply plunging neck line of her form fitting dress. With her good looks, the deep décolletage and dress split up to her thigh, the woman would be the center of attention at any party. Her smiled seemed practiced as she posed for the cameras. At the woman’s side, stood a beaming Brad Andrews. Travers gave Scott a questioning look.

  “Darcy Cole, top model extraordinaire. She has been seeing Mayor Andrews since the onset of his mayoral campaign January 2016.” Scott explained. “These photos were taken as recent as last month at the Club Nocturno, one of Ms. Cole’s favorite hangouts.”

  The agent placed another pair of photos on the table, stabbing a finger at the men in these shots. “That is Luis Alvarez on Cole’s right, and Carlos on her left.”

  Shane Travers frowned. “Chief, do you think Andrews is purposely communicating information to the Alvarez?”

  “Shane, you know my opinion on this mayor. I don’t like him and his methods, but I do not believe he would knowingly make a fool of himself and ruin his political career. I do know his history with women. I have no doubt he could be persuaded to unwittingly reveal pertinent information, especially with a woman persuasive as this Darcy Cole is reputed to be.” Preston concluded with a sad shake of his head.

  “Pillow talk,” Shane reckoned. “I suppose it is no coincidence that this Darcy Cole entered the picture when she did?”

  “No, Shane.” Preston confirmed. “Darcy Cole struck up the affair with Andrews on one of his frequent party trips to New York. After a few weeks, she contributed over a half-million dollars to his campaign, money traced back to the Alvarez brothers.”

  “So Hylton would have an easily manipulated mayor and a town ripe for the picking.” Travers proposed. “Drugs and prostitution for Luis and the hope of expanded gambling in the future for Carlos. Does Carlos Alvarez have a stake in the Port City Casino, Scott?”

  “Yes. Alvarez is one of the owners.” Scott confirmed.

  Travers was furious. There had been no need for subterfuge and secrecy within the ranks of HPD until recently. He faced Chief Preston again, feeling betrayed and angry. “I suppose you knew who the leak was this whole time, Chief? Why not just tell me Saturday?”

  “When Scott first approached me with his suspicions, I was dumbfounded. Like I said, I don’t like the man’s character as a person or how he performs as mayor. Scott and I agreed to keep our suspicions between us. I don’t want my negative opinion getting in the way of a fair investigation. The state task force’s investigation of Andrews has been kept under wraps also.”

  “Task force?” Travers jaw dropped. “What the hell is going on in this town?”

  “There were enough members of both political parties on city and state level voicing concern about the amount of money Andrews spent on his campaign to raise a few eyebrows. His association with Ms. Cole was already known to the FBI. Red flags started popping up here and there. Thus, the formation of a discreet task force to investigate. It has been kept quite due to the ongoing FBI investigation into the Alvarez brothers.” Preston expounded.

  “What happens now?”

  “We go on about our business,” David Scott interjected, “and HPD carries on as usual. You, Detective Travers, know nothing about the FBI’s CI embedded in Alvarez’s club, or about the investigation into Andrews’ vicarious association with the brothers. Is that clear?”

  “I don’t like you, Scott, but I respect who you represent. So, I will overlook your insinuation about my ability to remain discreet,” Shane retaliated.

  Chief Preston interrupted what appeared to be the beginning of another belligerent exchange of words between the two men. “I think we are done here for this morning. Shane, we are releasing pictures of the Canner brother to the press as suspects surrounding the death of Dr. Collins. Once the ME completes the autopsies of our burn victims and their identities confirmed, we will release that information and officially close the investigation into the Collins case. We will work side by side with the FBI in their sting operation here in Hylton.”

  “That is that then,” he said simply. “If you will excuse, I have reports to write up.”

  Chapter 22

  Paper work was a necessary but dreaded part of Detective Travers’ job. He spent the rest of his morning catching up on his reports. His ears tuned to his cell phone, hoping Collins would call or text. At noon he was ready for a lunch break and joined Tim Sells and Bambi at Arnie’s, a little pub style café across the street. HPD personnel frequented the business on and off duty. He and Tim shared a pizza, both wishing for one of Arnie’s cold draft beers, instead settling for soda as they were on duty.

  “How is it going with the investigation into Professor Collins’ homicide?” Tim asked.

  “Agent Scott and Charlie Belk met with a forensic artist yesterday. The two men both had records and currently work for the stable’s owner. I suspect these men will also be the victims of the stable fire. If that turns out to be the case, the Collins case will close.” Shane reported.

  “That will be a relief to his daughter. How is she doing anyway?”

  “Collins will be fine,” Shane commented. “The memorial service is tomorrow evening. I am sure she would love for you and Bambi to be there.”

  “Of course, we will be, as long as the funeral home is dog friendly.”

  “The service will be in the amphitheater in the gardens at Hylton University, so Bambi will be no problem.” Shane reassured the K9 officer. “One of Professor’s old friends, a chaplain and old colleague will conduct the ceremony. The anthropology department will host a small reception afterwards. I wouldn’t think it will replace our evening meal, though,” Shane told Tim, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

>   “Most receptions don’t fill in my dinner, not like the after-funeral meals at our church,” Tim admitted. “Fried chicken, pot roast, and all the trimmings, not to mention homemade desserts. When I was a kid, I would wonder who was going to conk out next, just so we had a funeral to attend,” he grinned wickedly at the detective. “True story. My mother was a wonderful woman, and still is, but she sure can’t cook.”

  “Tim, you ain’t right.” Shane laughed, shaking his head.

  “That’s why I need, Bambi. Chicks love cops with dogs and are always dropping by to leave as treat for Bambi and cookies for me.” Tim winked.

  “Maybe that is my problem, I need to get a dog.” Shane stroked his chin and bobbed his head, as if seriously considering the acquisition of a dog.

  Tim chuckle. “I don’t see your little blond as a dog person, Shane. She is more Persian cat, I think.”

  “Bethany is not my little blond anymore, but she is a cat with sharp claws just waiting to dig into anyone who stands in her way.” Shane rebuked, his annoyance flaring up at the memory of yesterday.

  “Trouble in paradise, Shane?”

  “Tim, have your ever been in love? I mean really in love?”

  Tim cocked his head and studied his friend before replying. “If by really in love, you mean enough to want to share the rest of my life with a woman, the answer is no, Shane.”

  “Ever wonder what it would be like?” Shane quizzed, avoiding his friend’s eyes.

  “I figure when it hits me, I will know it. There will not be reservations, doubts, or if only. No expectations on either part that the other will change. It will be a take me for what I am marriage on both parts.” Tim mused, his eyes focused on something in the distance. “She will be a good partner for you, Shane, no doubt about it. When does she go back to New York?”

  Caught off guard by Tim’s question, Shane inspected his fingernails before replying. “Friday. Collins leaves Friday morning.”

  “Tim, I need to get back to the office,” Shane jumped to his feet. “Stay safe out there this afternoon.”

  “Sure, Shane.” Tim reached down and grinned at his companion. “The man has it bad Bambi, and don’t even know it.”

  Shane did not go back to the office. Instead, he drove over to Collins house, pulling in the driveway behind a vehicle with a New York tag. He knocked on the front door and greeted Aunt Maddy.

  “I stopped by to talk to Collins, but it looks like she has company,” he protested.

  “Yes, a friend from New York drove down for the service tomorrow,” Maddy explained.” Come on in, Shane.”

  Shane stepped in the foyer as Collins and a man walked out of the kitchen holding hands, laughing over a private joke.

  “There you are, Lenore,” Maddy was saying. “Shane dropped by to see you.”

  Lenore gave him a smile that did not reach her eyes. “We were just on our way out.” She turned to the man beside her saying, “Jared, this Detective Shane Travers. He is investigating my father’s death.”

  The man extended his free hand to the detective. “Jared Taylor,” he introduced himself, his arm slipping around Collins waist. “I hope you catch the villain quickly.”

  Shane accepted the mans proffered hand and acknowledged the man, “Mr. Taylor.” He did not miss the arm encircling Collins’ waist. The man is marking his territory. “My truck is blocking your vehicle. I’ll be going so the two of you can go your way.” He gave Aunt Maddy a peck on the cheek and started to leave. Collins voice stopped him.

  “Did you have a question, Travers?”

  “Not anymore. I think you have already answered it.” Collins had introduced him only as the detective investigating her father’s death, not as her friend. He did not think it was just an oversight on her part.

  Bill Travers was walking out his front door when he saw his son leaving the Collins home. Behind Shane walked Lenore Collins beside a man with his arm draped across her shoulders. He hurt for his son and for Lenore. Lenore told him this morning of her concern that her friendship with Shane was standing between him and Bethany. Lenore said it was painful to see the Shane with Bethany. Shane’s attraction for Bethany is obvious, she told him. Bill was glad Lenore did not mention Shane’s crass behavior at yesterday’s lunch. She was hurting enough. He had been unable to convince her otherwise, and it was not his place to profess his son’s love for Lenore. His years of experience working with people convinced him that Lenore Collins was not admitting or did not realize her deeper feelings for his son. They need to work out their own problems, especially this one. After Lenore returned to New York on Friday, Bill did intend to have a heart to heart with his son.

  Jared Taylor’s vehicle backed out of the drive and fell in behind Shane’s truck. He was chatting on about work and his upcoming trip. Lenore only half heard what the man was saying. Her mind was on the man in the other vehicle. She was being petty not introducing Shane as her best friend. He noticed her omission and Lenore saw the hurt in his eyes. What have I done? Lenore knew she would grieve the loss of Travers’ friendship just as she grieved the loss of her father. She must apologize, make things right again, if possible.

  “Earth to Lenore,” Jared was trying get her attention.

  “I am sorry, Jared. I am afraid my mind was elsewhere,” she apologized. “What were you saying?”

  “I was asking you to go with me on the upcoming dig in South America,” Jared glanced at her. “We will both received our doctorate degrees in a few weeks, anyway. Why don’t you just take a long sabbatical and fly away with me?” He waggled his eyebrows at Lenore. “I have made no secret of the fact that I want to take our relationship to the next level.”

  Lenore thought she must have misunderstood him. “Next level?”

  “Don’t look so scared, Lenore,” he laughed seeing the shocked look in her eyes. “I am not asking you to marry me, for heaven’s sake. Just to join me on an expedition, as a lover and a friend.”

  “Jared, are you saying you love me?” Lenore knew she must look as dumbfounded as she felt.

  “No, of course not, unless that it what it takes to get you to agree to my proposition,” he laughed. “Lenore, this is the twenty-first century. Men and women can have a sexual relationship based on friendship and physical attraction. Love and marriage are no longer required.”

  She was silent and Jared pulled off the road and looked at her, astounded. “Lenore, don’t tell me you are still a virgin holding out for that little gold band? Come on, you of all people.”

  She could only stare at the man beside her. Lenore knew this was coming. Hadn’t she told Travers as much yesterday. He had told her to stick to her guns then, but yesterday she and Travers were still friends and…And what? Friends, that was it. A friendship she may have destroyed out of jealously. She had convinced herself that their friendship was standing in the way of Shane’s happiness with Bethany. The real reason, Lenore at last had to admit, was that she wanted Shane Travers as more than a friend, and it hurt like hell seeing him with Bethany Allan.

  “Lenore?” Jared’s impatient voiced belied the gentle hand he used to turn her face to his. “I need an answer.”

  “No, Jared, I am not a virgin.” Lenore’s eyes swam with tears.

  “Can we go on this trip together as lovers and friends?” Jared questioned, his annoyance increasing.

  “We’ve discussed this before, Jared. I thought you understood I did not want such a relationship with you or any other man at this time.”

  “I thought maybe you may have changed your mind.”

  “Did you hope to catch me at a weak moment in my grief to persuade me?”

  His sheepish look told Lenore that was indeed Jared’s plan.

  Embarrassment coiled around him. “I thought you might be lonely,” he replied, giving her a lopsided grin.

  She turned her face away, disgusted. “I am sorry you came all this way for nothing.”

  “Well, I really did come down to be you during the service
tomorrow, but under the circumstances, I think I will just leave.” He scowled. “There is really no point now.” ***

  Shane spent another night with his friend, Jim Beam, dreaming of whiskey eyes.

  Chapter 23

  Friday, April 28, 2017

  Thankfully, Lenore had a window seat with a person equally uncommunicative as herself. The over two-hour flight to La Guardia would be worse than miserable, otherwise. She had bidden a tearful good-bye to her aunt and uncle around six o’clock this morning and insisted they wait no longer with her for the delayed departure to New York. She waited alone after they left, sitting apart from the other passengers waiting, reliving the last few days.

  Last night, the memorial service for Dr. James Collins was held in the gardens at Hylton University. Lenore knew her father, watching from his heavenly home, was pleased. The gardens and amphitheater had been a favorite place of his, anytime of the year. But James loved the spring season here the most. The rhododendrons and azaleas were blooming. The dogwoods trees with their beautiful white flower symbolizing the Savior’s crucifixion were whiter than ever this year. The bright yellow of the late blooming daffodils were sunbursts among the purple tulips. Purple and yellow, the university’s school colors. Come summer, the daffodils and tulips would be replaced with more purple and yellow flowers.

  A gathering of family, friends, and former colleagues occupied the seats of the amphitheater. Lenore sat on the front row flanked on either side by her aunt and uncle. The Travers, James’ and Lenore’s other family, occupied the same row of seating. Shane sat on the far end, as distance from Lenore as he could. She had no doubt this was not an accident. They had not seen each other since yesterday afternoon when Lenore had snubbed him in the worst way. Tonight, no matter what, she would apologize. She owed him and their friendship that much.

  One of her father’s oldest and dearest friends, a chaplain, presented the scripture reading and the eulogy. Hylton’s choir sang two of her father’s gospel songs, Amazing Grace, and Angel Band. Following the service, the anthropology department held a reception in Dr. James Collins’ memory. Her father’s love of anthropology and his enthusiastic teaching methods had been the inspiration for several of the anthropology instructors present tonight. Lenore had been in a group of these former students, listening to their memories of her father and discussing their careers and Lenore’s soon to be completed doctoral program. She saw Shane and Tim Sells standing apart from the crowd in a deep discussion. When Tim walked away, Lenore excused herself from the group surrounding her and approached Shane.