Murder Wears a Medal

by Donna Doyle

  “He’s—bitter. He’s right to be,” she said defiantly.

  “Yes, he is,” Troy said. “I know it. You know it. I think Kyle knows it.”

  “I feel like it just keeps getting bigger and bigger, but I don’t know what it is!”

  That was a somewhat incoherent description of what they were dealing with, but

  Troy couldn’t fault Mia’s perceptions. The tangled web that had been exposed when Scotty Stark was arrested for murder had revealed a lot that was wrong in the town, but not everyone realized it. Not yet, at least.

  “None of us knows yet, Mia, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have our eyes open. Now what happened up at the camp?”

  “I went up, Mom and me and the kids to see how Dad is doing. He’s not the kind to want to be off on his own and Mom didn’t want him to be, not this way with what happened. I could just—oh, if I could, I’d like to strangle Travis—”

  People said unwise things in anger. “Yeah, I know, but you can’t and it’s just as well. Travis . . . that doesn’t add up. That interview . . .” Troy shook his head.

  “Murderers awaiting trial don’t get that kind of attention from the media.”

  “You think someone arranged it?”

  “What I think and what I can prove aren’t balancing the seesaw, Mia. Back to camp. What happened?”

  “I’ve been going up to camp—Dad and Mom had the camp even when we were kids and we’ve been going up there forever. It’s like a neighborhood, kind of. They—”

  “Lean back into your chair, Mia, okay?” Troy said in a low voice. “All the way back.”

  Mia, puzzled, did as he told her, so that she was concealed from view of the street by the hydrangea bush that blocked most of that end of the porch. Troy, his gaze facing forward, waved his hand at a passing car.

  “Okay,” he said. “Go on.”

  “What was that?”

  “Chief Stark, out doing morning patrol, I guess. I didn’t figure there’s any point in him seeing you here.”

  “Chief Stark? Dad said he never used to leave the office when he was chief.”

  “Uh-huh. Go on.”

  “At camp, everyone gets together. They decided to have a bonfire at night, roast hot dogs, marshmallows, you know the scene. The kids were excited about it. Everyone up there watches out for everyone else’s kids. Like I said, it’s like a neighborhood. The bonfire got started when it was dusk. Mom and I agreed that the kids could have the day off from school so that they could cheer Dad up. School’s almost done, they’re good students, well, it’s just kindergarten for Lucia, but still, it counts . . . I was watching them both, I was. But—”

  Her eyes, which looked like they were too big for her thin, angled face, were enormous with fear. “I saw someone who knows Travis, he was talking to Mason. It was on the other side of the bonfire. Not that far from me, but far enough that if someone grabbed Mason, I couldn’t grab him right back.”

  “If everyone up there is like a neighbor, why would you think anyone would grab your son?” Troy asked her.

  “Because this person that I saw, he’s not one of the camp neighbors. He’s a stranger up there, he doesn’t belong there. He’s one of the people that Travis knew from the past.”

  “Drugs?”

  “Drugs and . . . Travis got involved in some things. I didn’t pay a lot of attention. No, that’s not true,” she said, amending her words as if there was an auto-correct for her speech. “I didn’t want to know all the things he did. I wanted to get high and that’s what I did. But this guy, he did favors for Travis, who was doing favors for other people.”

  “By favors, you mean crimes?”

  “Sometimes. Shaking down people who owed money.”

  “Who owed Travis money?”

  “Travis never had money. No, Travis . . . it was a great swamp,” she said. “Travis was a pretty small fish in a not-very-big pond, but he had his job to do and he did it. Eddie worked for him. Eddie’s a big guy, pretty intimidating. When people needed to be scared, Travis sent Eddie to do it.”

  “What’s his last name?”

  “Eddie Kavlick. I hadn’t seen him in years.”

  “Is he from Punxsutawney, like Travis?”

  “I don’t know where he’s from, but he was in Punxsy when I knew him. But he shouldn’t be here, and he shouldn’t be up at camp, and he shouldn’t be talking to my son. I can’t tell Dad, not now, you know how he’ll react, and that will just make people think that he really did force Travis to confess to murder. I can’t tell Mom, either. But I’m afraid. Why was he at camp and why was he talking to Mason?”

  “What did Mason say?”

  “You know how kids are. He thinks that all adults are the same. He couldn’t even remember, when I asked him, what Eddie had said to him. He was too excited about the bonfire and his hot dog.”

  “I’ll look this guy up and see what we have on him,” Troy promised. “You’d better tell your mother, though. Millie’s smart and she’s tough. She’ll keep her eyes open and she won’t let Leo know. Let me know if anything unusual happens. Or even if it’s not unusual, just something that doesn’t feel right.”

  “Thanks, Troy.”

  “Where did you park?”

  “Around the corner. Why?”

  Troy nodded. “You can tell you’re a cop’s daughter,” he said approvingly.

  Mia looked pleased. “I didn’t want anyone to know I was here.”

  “Smart.” Especially if Chief Stark was going to drive around the streets of Settler Springs.

  9

  Setting up the Shots

  Except for the smile she gave to every patron who entered the library, Kelly offered no other form of greeting to Doug Iolous when he came into the library. He had several cameras around his neck and was dressed, as he always was, in the epitome of casual: baggy jeans, a shapeless tee shirt, sneakers, and a baseball cap.

  “Hey, Mrs. S,” he said upon sighting Mrs. Stark in her seat at the main library table, her laptop in front of her and a stack of reports beside it. “I thought you might like to see this. I printed it for you. It’s the photo we’ll be running on the front page.”

  “Thank you, Doug,” Mrs. Stark said, pleased as she took the photograph. “Yes, that’s very nice. I was so glad that you were there to record the occasion with a photograph. It means so much for my husband to be back in his position.” She gave a quick, sidelong glance to Kelly, whose peripheral vision seemed to inexplicably have failed.

  “Kel, I need you to go over the program with me,” Doug said in a businesslike manner.

  “Are you doing anything differently from the past?” Mrs. Stark inquired, looking as if she didn’t like the notion of Kelly going upstairs where her conversational topics couldn’t be monitored.

  “I have a few ideas,” Kelly said vaguely. “But Doug doesn’t know if they’ll work.”

  “What sort of ideas?”

  Doug provided an engaging smile. “Let me see if they’ll work first, Mrs. S,” he said, “and we’ll go from there. Kel, you said the Scouts will be there for the flag ceremony. Rep. Eldredge presenting the flag?”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Stark answered although the question had not been addressed to her.

  “Okay, Kel, let’s go upstairs and figure out the angles.”

  “I’ll go up with you to help,” Mrs. Stark said as she closed her laptop.

  Although Doug had the appearance of a grad student, he knew how to hold his ground. “Mrs. S,” he said in a beguiling manner, “don’t you think I know how to do my job?”

  “Well, of course you know how to do your job. But I’m the board president—”

  “And Kelly knows how to do her job. She’s been running this program almost since she got here, and I haven’t heard any complaints yet. I don’t need an audience to get this done and I don’t want to spend all morning on it. If that’s a problem, I’ll just come back on my own and set it up the way I want to, without help. And if the photos don’t
come out right,” he smiled cheerfully at Mrs. Stark,

  “I’ll tell people that I didn’t have the time to set up the way I needed to.”

  Mrs. Stark looked as if she were not quite sure what to say. “I don’t want to get in your way, Doug,” she said finally. “I know what good work you do.” She looked again at the photo he’d printed. “Very nice work.”

  “Carm, you’ll handle things down here while Kelly and I get this mapped out. And Mrs. S, you’ll help Carm if she gets swamped, right? Good,” he said, although Mrs. Stark had not given an answer. “Okay, Kelly, now let’s go up and see what we’re doing. You said you have a couple more speakers this year, with Eldredge giving the introductions, and Mrs. S accepting the flag on behalf of the library board. Are the Scouts going to do the ceremony inside the meeting room or outside at the flagpole?” Doug walked up the stairs as he spoke, his words ricocheting clearly from the upper level of the library, leaving no doubt that he was there on business. Kelly, amused by his expertly staged performance, played along with her responses as they walked to the meeting room.

  “We haven’t heard from the Scouts yet. The library will be closed to patrons this year; we’re just going to have the program. It’s open to the public, of course. The board decided that it’s more respectful to close the library and focus on the veterans.” That had not been Mrs. Stark’s view at the last meeting, but she had been overruled. Of course, now that she would be part of the program, receiving the flag on behalf of the library board, she had no objections to the format.

  “Okay. You’ll have the chairs up here, as usual—” Doug closed the door behind him and grinned at Kelly. “I don’t want to disturb your patrons,” he said. “Will she come up?”

  “She might,” Kelly said.

  “She’s pretty suspicious of you.”

  “Who said that?”

  He grinned. “Are you asking me to reveal my sources?”

  “Yes,” Kelly said frankly. “She’s been here every day since the investigation got underway for Lyola Knesbit back in February. Even when Travis Shaw was arrested for it, she didn’t stop coming in.”

  “Chairs in a semicircle as usual? Lectern to the right? What I hear is that Travis Shaw, even though he looks like something you’d scrape off the bottom of your shoe, has influential friends. You’re moderating the discussion as usual?”

  Kelly nodded; keeping pace with Doug’s volley of questions about the program and the counter volley of comments about the Starks required deft attention.

  “There’s not much moderating that’s needed, except when they get off on tangents,” she said. “Wally used to do that, you remember?”

  “Tangents? He wanted to fight the whole war all over again, every year! Are you planning any kind of remembrance for him?”

  “I’ve talked to Art about it, and he wants to do something to remember Wally—hello, Mrs. Stark.”

  The door opened completely to admit Mrs. Stark, who had been turning the doorknob when Kelly greeted her. “Oh, sorry to interrupt,” she said. “Kelly, I think Carmela needs your help downstairs. She was at the desk and the phone rang. The patron had to wait while she answered.”

  “Okay, Kel, I’ll be back sometime to go over this again,” Doug said briskly. “Sorry to keep you from your work.”

  Kelly smiled. “That’s all right, Doug. We’ll go over it again when you’re free.”

  She followed him out of the room, avoiding eye contact with Mrs. Stark. She hoped she had a chance soon to relay the episode to Troy; he’d enjoy hearing how Doug kept Mrs. Stark at bay and, she knew, he’d be interested in knowing that Doug was paying attention to the Starks.

  For Troy, Sean’s visit had pushed the police force drama off to the side, at least for a time. Reintroducing Sean to the town he’d left two decades ago was a strange and delightful opportunity. When Sean returned from walking the Trail with Arlo an eager companion at his side, the men went to The Café.

  “Francie,” Troy said, “can you ask Tia to come out here when she gets the time? I’d like her to meet Sean, my buddy.”

  “Sure,” Francie said, puzzled but obliging. “As soon as things quiet down, I’ll get her.”

  “She won’t know me,” Sean predicted. “This place was here back when I was here, but it had a different name. And there was an ice cream place next door. My folks never had money to eat out, but I remember there was this giant painting of an ice cream sundae in the window and man, I used to want one of those sundaes in the worst way. Serves them right, going out of business!” he laughed at the memory.

  Troy had been surprised by Sean’s cheerful disposition. When he’d last seen Sean, his friend had been moody and despondent, unable to get his life back on track after leaving the military. He’d been short-tempered and couldn’t hold down a job. But things were looking up now. He’d been working at landscaping in Texas, and he’d saved up enough money to start his own company.

  “It’ll be small, but I’ve got some guys who’ve been working with me and we’ll take care of things,” he said confidently. “That’s why I wanted to come out and visit you now, because once we get the business going, we’ll be pretty locked into it. You can come out and visit.” Sean grinned. “I’m sure there will be an extra lawnmower. You still taking classes?’

  “Yeah. I’m thinking of law school.”

  “Not going to stick with policing?”

  Troy shook his head. “I keep changing my mind like a kid,” he said. “At first, I thought I’d make law enforcement my career. Now I’m thinking just the law. The other side of things. Maybe I’ll change my mind again, who knows?”

  “At least you’re moving away from uniforms if you go for the law,” Sean pointed out. “Man, after being in the army, I don’t even want to wear a tie! I’m done with uniforms.”

  “Troy, you wanted to see me? Has Lucas been getting into trouble? He said that Kelly is planning to have him help with setting up for the program, but—”

  “Hi, Tia,” Troy greeted Tia Krymanski, the cook for The Café. “Lucas is fine. Kelly appreciates his help and she’s working on a plan to get him to help no matter what Mrs. Stark thinks about it. But that’s not why I came in here. This is a buddy of mine, Sean Claypool, from the army. He used to live in Settler Springs when he was a kid, and his mom was a Krymanski. I figured that you might know how to reintroduce him to some of the relatives.”

  “The ones I speak to, you mean,” Tia said with a rueful smile. She put out her hand. “Hi, pleased to meet you, Sean. Claypool . . . I remember my ex mentioning a cousin of his who married into the family.”

  “My mom was Linda Krymanski. Linda Claypool.”

  “Linda . . . your mom was Linda?”

  Sean nodded soberly. “She died when I was in Afghanistan.”

  Tia nodded. “I remember now. She had cancer. It was more than six years ago.”

  “Yeah. I couldn’t make it to her funeral.”

  “The family will want to see you,” Tia told him. “You come on by. Believe it or not, I actually do get along with most of my ex in-laws. Except my ex-husband, of course. We’ll have a cookout. Friday night? Come over, Troy will tell you where I live. Troy, you’re invited. Kelly, too.”

  “I have to work,” Troy said.

  Tia made a face. “How is it, having Chief Stark back? There’s no love lost with our family for Chief Stark,” she explained to Sean. “He tried to get Lucas charged with murder. And he’d have done it too, if Kelly and Troy weren’t so determined to prove that my boy was innocent. You come by, okay, Sean? We’ll fill you in on all the gossip. There’s still plenty of it. Settler Springs hasn’t changed.”

  10

  Comparing Notes

  Far from being the month that was home to the holiday that kicked off the summer season, Memorial Day was, in Troy’s view, becoming the month that didn’t want to end, a complaint he posed to Kelly as they finished their Saturday morning run on the Trail and walked at a gentler pace to their cars. />
  “I’m spending so much time in the bars you’d think I have a drinking problem,” he said.

  “It’s not usually like this,” Kelly said apologetically.

  “I’m not convinced.”

  “Another bar fight night?”

  “Every night.”

  “I don’t know why . . . after Memorial Day is over, I’ll talk with Art and we’ll see what made things different this year. Breakfast now? I promise that I’ll write down every single complaint that you have and try to find a solution.”

  “I have a better idea. Breakfast now, then lunch up at the lake. We’ll stop by and see how Leo’s doing, do some swimming . . . what do you say?”

  “It sounds great, but what about Sean? How’s his visit going?”

  “His visit is going so great that he doesn’t need me. He’s reconnecting with the people he used to know.”

  “Just reconnecting with the Krymanskis will take up his whole visit,” Kelly remarked. Troy had told her the surprising news that his army buddy was a Krymanski on his mother’s side.

  “He seems to be enjoying it. Last night he went out for drinks with Skip and Lex, and didn’t come back to my place until three in the morning. I guess it went all right, I didn’t get a call to go out there.”

  “Is Sean hard on the stuff?”

  “He used to be . . . he seems like he’s gotten over a lot of that now. He looks good, looks healthy. He’s in shape, he’s doing landscaping out in Texas and starting his own company. Maybe he’s put the war behind him.”

  “Will I meet him?”

  “Maybe. If he can find a break in his busy social life.”

  The waitresses at The Café were convinced that Troy and Kelly were a romantic item, and on Saturdays always held the most secluded booth for them. With so much to discuss, they were glad of this privacy even if the reason for it was a misapprehension on the part of the servers.

  “You go first,” Troy said after they’d placed their orders.