by Arthur Day
Ethel stubbed out her cigarette angrily. “Okay. Okay. We talked every once in a while. I just don’t want to get involved in police business. It’s none of my business and I swear I don’t know where she is now.”
“What did you talk about with her?” You don’t seem like the chatty-cathy type.”
Ethel shrugged. “She was nice to me. Most folks aren’t and I’m not very social, but she was nice and when we saw each other in the lobby or outside out apartments she would always give me the time of day and ask how I was doing and she’d smile, and I’d smile and say fine and how are you and so on.”
“Must have been more than that,” Buckmaster pushed. “If that were all it was then you would have picked up her letter and knocked on the door and if no one answered you would have pushed it under the door or put it through her mail slot in the lobby.”
Ethel shrugged again. Buckmaster was getting a little tired of that. A lot tired in fact. “Okay, you’ve spent the last half hour dancing around this so let’s take a trip over to my smoke free office where I can sit and listen to your bullshit until you run out of wind and that should happen quickly with the amount you smoke.”
“All right. All right.” Ethel turned swept the trash off of one of the chairs and sat down. Buckmaster thought that she suddenly looked tired, older than her years and somewhat defeated with her hair flying everywhere and staring down at the rug as if she could see it under all the trash.
When she looked up her eyes were full of misery and her face full of despair. “I supposed you’ve already judged me to be a total loser and you would be right. I don’t like to think of myself that way but after Stan died something died within me. He often told me that I had rescued him but in truth he rescued me. He got me off the street, forced me to study and get my GED, showed me that I could like myself, paid for the training I needed to get a job in retail and was patient throughout all the times I drank a bit too much and turned into a raving bitch. He stood out of the way as I battled my alcoholic mother who wanted to move in and take everything we had earned for herself. I could go on but that’s not what you want to hear.” She tried a smile, but it was like the small patch of blue sky one sees just before the deluge.
“Anyway, when Pam moved in next door I was pretty much as you see me now. I just didn’t care. I had worked my way through retail management to manage the Northeast region. My retirement and the money that Stan left allow me to live pretty much as I see fit and I saw fit to give up on myself. Pam wasn’t in great shape either. She was fresh off a divorce and I always felt she really loved the guy and was blaming herself for the break up. I would see her coming and going and I would say hi and she would smile and say hi or good morning or whatever and that went on for a while and one day she came into the lobby while I was checking my mailbox and we got into a conversation since her box was right next to mine.
Buckmaster stood silent. Sometimes silence is the best tool to use he knew. Silence s golden and whoever is silent longest gets the gold.
“She was kinda fucked up just like me, so we got along, you know?” Ethel lit another cigarette and inhaled mightily. “I guess we were both depressed, but I thought she would pull out of it and get on with her life. I had friends who went through similar shit and they came out okay. Me, I was long gone. Wasn’t gonna change. Didn’t want to either. Every once in a while, she’d knock on my door and ask if I wanted to join her for dinner. Her place was so clean that it almost made my nose bleed. I felt as if I was in a museum without a ticket. I would reciprocate by meeting her in the hallway and taking her out to the local bar and grill. Damned if I was going to kill myself cleaning up this place just for her or anyone else.”
“Then she started seeing this guy. I would see him occasionally going in or out of her place. I don’t think he lived there with her. Seemed an quiet little man. So I thought she was getting out of her dark place and starting to fly right again, you know what I mean? I mean we all have times when nothing seems to go right. Hell, I’ve made an art form out of it.” Ethel flung out one arm to take in the horror of her living room and cackled (Buckmaster had never heard anyone cackle but Ethel’s laugh definitely fit that category.)
“When was the last time you and Pam talked?”
“Maybe a week ago. I knocked meaning to ask her to dinner since it was my turn. Nothing happened for a bit and I thought she was out and had turned away from the door when it opened behind me and there she was but oh my it was not the Pam that I knew but someone who looked as if she had just been told she had terminal cancer. Her eyes were wide and staring, her mouth slightly open, he whole body stiff and bent like mine but she was much too young for that. I tell you I was surprised and saddened by her appearance. “Pam what’s the matter? You look like shit warmed over.”’
“Stay away from me Ethel. Just stay away and if anyone asks just say you don’t know anything and never met me,” and she slammed the door in my face.
Buckmaster thought about that for a moment. Ethel stubbed out her cigarette and lit another one. “So you two were friendly but not bosom buddies. Not a surprise,” he said softly to no one in particular. “When did you find this envelope?” he asked.
“A couple of days ago. See after she told me to fuck off, she called the next day, apologized for her manner and what she said to me. She was going up to the lake and wanted me to keep an eye on her mail. She said she had forwarded the mail, but some always fell through the cracks. I said I would. I had a key to her box in the lobby you see. I am rarely gone so it worked out pretty good for both of us. Anyway, that letter showed up in her box with no postmark and no stamp which I thought was strange. Maybe someone sticking a flyer in everybody’s box even though they’re not supposed to do that.” She puffed nervously and blew smoke towards the window on her left. Least I took it to be an ad of some kind so I brought it up here and opened it just in case it wasn’t and I would need to call her if it was a bill or something like that.” She looked at Buckmaster from the corner of one eye as if to judge his reaction to that she had said.
“Okay so what was the letter about?”
“That was the strange thing. It really didn’t make any sense at least to me. It was a piece of white paper with letters pasted on it that had been cut out of a magazine and maybe more than one for all I know. All it said was ‘YOU WILL DIE SINNER’ in big letters cut from a magazine.”
“Nasty,” Buckmaster said. “Do you still have the note?”
“Somewhere,” Ethel looked about with an air of hopelessness. “Let’s see. I read the note and was so upset I had to fix myself a drink. It was the worst thing I’d seen in a long time.”
“Since your hooking days,” supplied Buckmaster. “You can hardly claim to be innocent and probably had customers who were just as nasty back in the day”
“A different lifetime,” Ethel replied tartly. “So I went in the kitchen and made a strong gin and tonic and then came back out here and called Pam.” She paused trying to re-create the sequence of events in her mind. “Maybe in the kitchen. I know I didn’t throw it away. I should have but I thought Pam might want it for whatever reason.” Ethel pushed herself to her feet and walked slowly through a doorway at the back of the room only to reappear a moment later holding a small sheet of white paper. “Bingo. Right there on the counter where I made my drink.”
“I’ll need you to come down to the station and be fingerprinted in case we can lift any off of it. That way we can eliminate your prints.”
“Oh my.” Ethel dropped the paper as if someone had just set it on fire.” She picked it up and handed it to the sheriff who took it by two of its corners.
“Did you call Pam after you saw the note?”
“Yes but it went to voicemail so I left a message to call me. I couldn’t leave a message like that. It wouldn’t have been proper.”
Buckmaster grinned at the apparent irony. Somewhere in her past the wom
an had been taught what was right and not right and it seemed to come out at the strangest times. “It doesn’t hurt and only takes a minute or two to get your prints. You could combine it with your next trip to the store. Did Pam return your call?”
“No. Bah. This isn’t my business,” Ethel groused and fished another cigarette from a pack in her house coat.
“It is now. Shall we say tomorrow morning? We’ll be expecting you.”
“Shit.”
Buckmaster got to his feet. “Don’t make me send someone over here for you. Someone hated your neighbor enough to send at least this one note and probably others judging from the time she slammed the door on you. Maybe enough to take her. This is now police business so I expect you to cooperate.” He scowled at her with his most fierce expression.
“Shit.” Ethel lit her cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke in his direction.
Driving back to the station, Buckmaster reflected on what he’d learned and where it might lead. Pam Pease obviously had someone in her past who hated her. Perhaps someone who was a religious nut. Possibly psychotic and dangerous. The form of the note indicated someone who was both intelligent and careful. There would probably be no trace on the note aside from Ethel’s contribution.
“Shit,” he muttered to himself and suddenly wished that he was a smoker.
Any brand.
McCAAL
I had almost decided to give up the search for Pam when I parked in the lot in front of the sheriff’s office in Rockmarsh. I had only learned of one additional person who might be able to help. The longer this took the less chance Pam had of being alive. The Sheriff’s office was investigating but who knows how long that would continue. Even with one of the Pease family as the victim, they could not afford to pursue it forever. I was determined to find out what had happened, but I did not think much of my chances of finding Pam or at least finding her alive.
The sheriff had an office at the back of a large room filled with both police and deputies coming and going and citizens of every calling and status walking in and out after being checked at the safety barrier in the front hallway. Buckmaster came to the front and held out his hand.
“Mr. McCaal, Nice to meet you. Come on back where we can hear ourselves think.” He led the way back to his office and closed the door behind us. The din was muted and became part of the background noise present in every large, occupied space.
The sheriff was a large man, not bulky but large with broad hips and shoulders. He had chiseled almost delicate features, soft blue eyes under thick brows and a heavy beard that he probably had to shave twice a day. Black hairs covered the back of his hands as he sat down in his chair, put his arms out on his desk and looked at me. I could not help but feel a sense of security and trust as I sat there looking at him. It was like looking at a much-loved older brother that I had never had.
“What can I do for you sir?”
“I’m the former husband of Pamela Pease. She has been missing for the past couple of days. I am looking for a status and I might possibly be able to help your investigation.”
“Your help and that of other folks is always appreciated. This is a poor county with a budget much more limited than that of Hartford, for instance. What can you add that might help us?”
“I talked with her current partner. She mentioned the name Jake when she was talking to him but refused to say anything more about it. It seemed as if even the mention of the name was something she had let slip by accident. I thought that was an interesting fact and one you might be able to work with.” I did not tell him about Ron Geyer, but he probably had that name already. After all he had already talked with Paul, maybe more than once and Geyer would still be in prison.
Buckmaster made a note on the pad on his desk, smiled, and looked back up at me. “That might be important and thank you for coming in with that. I talked with her mother but at this time we have no firm suspect and have not located Pam. We conducted an area search of that part of the land around the lake where she might have been but turned up nothing and that is the current status. We released that to the media yesterday so I am not talking out of school, so to speak. If you learn anything new I would appreciate you letting me know.” He rose and extended a card across his desk that I took and put in my pocket.
“What area of the lake was involved in the search?”
“The area known as the North Shore. Lots of summer homes around the lake and some farms further inland. Quite a large area. We did what we could with the volunteers that showed up concentrating on the area on both sides of the lake road for about a half or quarter of a mile.”
“Nothing turned up?”
Buckmaster shook his head in regret. “Nothing and with this type of search it is always possible to miss something. If a volunteer finds something he or she is to call of the deputy working with that team and he will bag up whatever it is but we came back with zilch.”
“Canvassing?”
“Worked some of that myself. No one heard or saw anything except for one person who thought she heard a scream, but it might have been a wild animal. Nothing else. That road, as you know is hard packed dirt. No prints would show unless in the soft part of the shoulder and a lot of people walk along that road every day. That’s about all I can tell you since this is an ongoing investigation.” He smiled.
“Is there a BOLO out for her?”
“Yes.”
I smiled back. “I’ll do what I can.” I rose, stuck my hand across his desk and shook his hand. “Thanks for seeing me and giving me the status,” I told him.
He was still standing behind his desk when I walked out.
Driving away from Rockmarsh, I had a feeling that he knew more than he was saying but I’m the suspicious type and that’s what I would have done if I were the sheriff and I had to admit I had not told him everything either.
The evening was warm without the usual mid-summer humidity. I sat out on the little terrace behind my cabin sipping a Jack Daniels and thinking back over the past few days. I had done a lot of driving, talked with Julia and Paul and the sheriff and still had no idea where Pam had gone and whether she had gone willingly or not. The official investigation seemed to be going nowhere and who the hell was this Jake that Pam had mentioned in passing? The more I thought about it the less sure I was that I or anyone would find my ex. I decided a change was needed before I ended up banging my head against the proverbial wall.
I fished out my phone and clicked on a familiar name and number. “Hi Dianne. MJ here. Glad I caught you at home. Would you like to get together here? I can make us omelets and I have some nice Sauvignon Blanc to go with them. Sounds good? Great. See you then.” I hung up feeling better already and got the eggs out of the fridge to come to room temperature.
“Wow. You weren’t kidding about those omelets. I am stuffed.” We sat outside again as the last of the day’s light slowly faded beyond the trees. Everything was shadowed or silhouetted, so that the whole of my little yard had softened and blurred slightly. I looked to my left at Dianne sitting in the patio chair holding her glass of wine and looking absolutely beautiful. I felt my cheeks go hot for I had never had this thought about her let alone expressed it. “You look mighty fine right now Dianne. Mighty fine,” I finally said and felt instantly foolish for saying it.
I sensed rather than saw her smile in the deepening gloom. “Why thank you sir. Very kind I’m sure. What brought that on?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Honestly? I could not wish for better company on a beautiful evening like this.”
“Hmmm,” she murmured in agreement. “You have no idea how nice this is. I was going to take a hot bath and go to bed early after a long day of hosting an open house. People in, people out, sign the book, look young and stylish and above all friendly in spite of some really dumb questions like why did they paint the living room that awful color? Well because they own th
e house and they liked that color, but you could paint over it very easily.” She laughed gently in the evening.” We get them all, so I was happy to come over here and relax for a while. How about you? Are you still trying to find your ex? How’s that going?”
“Not very well, I have to admit. I talked with the sheriff who seems like he knows which way is up, but he has no leads and there has been no one who has reported seeing her. I haven’t any idea where she disappeared or why or even if she did so of her own free will. I’ve arranged to talk with a friend of hers tomorrow but if nothing breaks loose there I will have to wait and see what the sheriff turns up. I talked with Julia and I’m sure she will keep the heat on this. I’ve talked with Pam’s current partner; I don’t think he’s involved but I’m reserving judgement on that.”
“Could the little green monster be influencing your opinion of this guy?”
I shrugged even though it was dark enough so that she would not see it. “It’s possible. I’m only human but Pam and I had our chance and blew it. I really hope it works out for both of them.” I stared out into the darker shadow of the woods beyond the yard. Would Pam and Paul even have the chance now to see if their relationship worked out? That thought brought my mind back to Dianne and me. Where were we? We’d known each other since I came to town. We’d gone out on dates. At least that’s what the world at large would call them. I had always enjoyed her company. I knew I could call her at any time and she would always respond as soon as she could, would always give advice if I needed it and stay silent and supportive if I didn’t. Pam and I had known such closeness at times but there was always that villain ego, both hers and mine, to get in the way and turn wine into vinegar. I had never known that with Dianne though I had to admit that we had not lived together or even been together for very long. Was it that we lived separate lives that made us good together? If we lived together would it be even better? I felt like a schoolboy on his first date. What to do? What to do? How ‘bout compromise? I reached out and touched her arm. “I’m glad you’re here Dianne.”