Whispering Pines Mysteries Box Set 3

by Shawn McGuire

  I set up an interview station in the far corner where Reed had been sitting. One by one, I called over the villagers who’d been in the middle of the fight and took their statements. Those who could give me details of any kind said basically the same thing. They saw Tavie and the girls holding hands and praying. Some didn’t notice Tavie’s group until Lindsey went up to them and gave them a hard time, saying that religion belonged in a church or at home but not in public.

  “It was almost like he was picking a fight and trying to get us to join his side,” a woman said. “You know how people will look around at a crowd as they speak to make sure everyone is paying attention to their oh-so-important rants? That’s what he was doing. Talking to the girls but looking at us.” She shook her head. “What is this, high school?”

  Everyone agreed that Lindsey started the trouble. They also agreed that Tavie stood up and got in his face when he wouldn’t back down after Silence tried to ignore him.

  “It wasn’t like she was challenging him,” another woman said of Tavie. “She told him that Whispering Pines was broken and needed help, that’s what they were praying for. That guy agreed about The Pines being broken but said prayer wasn’t going to do anything for the people here.”

  A few villagers agreed with Lindsey.

  “He said we needed to adopt more of a military attitude,” explained a man in a deer-hunter-orange sweatshirt. “More people patrolling the village to keep the tourists in line. That kind of thing.” With a look that could only be called admiration, he looked over at Lindsey who was seated alone at a table. “He said if we really want to save the village, we needed to get a man behind the badge again.”

  Sitting there, listening to this guy extoll the virtues of armed villagers wandering the commons and the woods made me a little sick. “What’s your name?”

  “Verne Witkowski.”

  “And your age?”

  “I’m forty-four.”

  That surprised me. His attitude made him seem much younger. “Do you really want martial law in Whispering Pines, Verne?”

  He fidgeted and looked to the side. “I dunno.”

  “Do you think bandaging a problem by stopping it with force rather than figuring out what’s actually causing the problem is the best option?”

  Verne paused before saying, “Sometimes force is necessary.”

  “Like tonight when you all were getting ready to duke it out right here in the middle of the pub? Do you even know what the fight was about?” Before he could respond, I added, “What about his other suggestion? Do you agree with him?”

  “The thing about how we needed a man as sheriff?” He turned red and shoved his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. “Don’t know that a person’s sex has anything to do with ability, but something needs to be done around here.”

  So he was okay with a woman wearing the badge as long as that woman wasn’t me.

  “I got nothing against you personally, Sheriff O’Shea,” he continued, “but we didn’t have these problems with Sheriff Brighton.”

  In other words, I was the problem. How many other villagers thought the same thing?

  “How long have you been here?” I asked.

  “Most of my life. My mom died in a car wreck when I was twelve, and my dad was stationed overseas in the military. I came here to live with my grandparents and never left.”

  “You’ve been here long enough to know the village well.”

  He thought for a second. “I think so.”

  “Is it possible that the problems started when my grandmother died?”

  “Lucy?” Verne’s face twisted in confusion.

  “I don’t need an answer. I’d like it if you thought about that possibility, though.”

  Verne contemplated my question as he left and would hopefully talk to other villagers about it.

  Next across the table from me was a peace-loving, twenty-something male who’d been sitting with Violet and Basil and was clearly on Team Tavie. He’d been trying to break up the fight. “That woman, Tavie, said ‘might was never right’ and that we need to come together and work on creating the kind of community we want to live in.”

  “That Lindsey guy,” a female from the same group began, “what a slime. You could just see it oozing off of him.” She angrily snapped pretzel twists into pieces as she spoke. “He was trying so hard to enlighten us and make us understand that women have no value other than making babies.”

  “Was he saying these things before or after the fight broke out?” I asked.

  “Before. The thing is, I’m not so sure he really believed what he was saying. It’s more like he was just trying to get us riled up and was using Tavie to do so.” She pushed on the broken pretzel pieces with her thumb, grinding them to powder on the table. “He was all over the place. First he talked about women and then about how we needed to patrol the village if we wanted to keep the tourists under control.” She blushed. “Then he said something about you being part of the problem.”

  “Nothing I haven’t heard before.” I gave a dismissive wave, and she relaxed. “How did the events turn? When did it go from words about women and saving the village to a young woman being stabbed?”

  “Couldn’t tell you that.” She looked down at the pretzel mess she’d left on the table and frowned. “I didn’t see who did it, but someone shoved Tavie. Hard. She almost fell. Her girls came to her defense, and that’s when things turned physical. You know how people get. Can’t ever have discussions about their opinions without someone throwing a punch. Or, in this case, pulling a knife.”

  Another villager had stepped up to help as soon as Lindsey got in Tavie’s face.

  “She’s a middle-aged woman,” a man from the cluster reported in his own defense. “I didn’t know if she could take care of herself or not. I suppose it’s possible she’s a judo master or something. Maybe she can take down someone like Jagger by bending back his pinkie finger. Whatever. All I knew for sure was that she was an older lady, and I wasn’t going to stand back and wait for her to get hurt. Yeah, I jumped into the scrum and tried to break things up.” He pulled the icepack he was holding against his face away and touched the bruise purpling beneath his eye. “This is what I get when I try to help. A sock in the eye.”

  “I’m sure the women appreciated your efforts.”

  I told him he could leave, but before he did, he asked, “Is that girl going to be okay?”

  Good question. “I hope so, but I don’t know. Jola thought her injury was pretty serious. Do you have any idea who did it?”

  “Couldn’t say. I was standing behind Silence. Her back was to me and there were people all around.”

  “If her back was to you, how are you certain it was Silence in front of you?”

  “That blonde hair of hers is hard to miss. She was standing in front of me and all of a sudden, she went down, stabbed in the gut. My assumption is that whoever did it was standing on the other side of the group from us. You can eliminate my half of the crowd.” He contemplated a thought while swinging his arm across his body, low near his hips, and then angling his hand upward as though trying to stab someone standing at his side. “I suppose it could’ve been one of the women next to her.”

  “Who was that?”

  “Either the one with the short reddish hair or the one with the long brown messy hair. They kept shifting positions. The redhead would start getting worked up, and either Silence or the brunette would pull her away from that Lindsey guy.” He swung his arm in that same across-and-up arc again. “That would be a really awkward angle, though. Hard to get much force behind it. No, if you ask me, whoever did it had to be in this wedge.” He held his arms straight out in a V with his hands about three feet apart, narrowing my suspect list. “Maybe someone took pictures?”

  Pictures? Damn. I was off my game. I could’ve been snapping pictures through the front door window while waiting to be let in. Or, if I’d thought of it before we started questioning and releasing people, we could’ve ask
ed if anyone had taken any. It was a holiday. People always took pictures during holiday gatherings. Even if not specifically of the fight, someone may have inadvertently caught something helpful in the background. We had a list of everyone who’d been here. I could get a willing villager or two to check in with those people and ask anyone who had taken pictures during the fight to report to me.

  “What’s the plan?” Tripp asked after everyone but Lindsey’s group had left.

  As I’d assumed, between the three of us, we’d cleared all the villagers. That left our little band of vigilantes. Which one of them stabbed Silence?

  Or . . . No, I didn’t think for even a second that it was possible one of the group home women was guilty. The problem was, that guy’s wedge of suspects included Silence, Gloria, and Melinda. He’d targeted the people across from Silence, but the possibility was there. I had to think like a sheriff, not the B&B owner who’d become emotionally attached to her guests over the last twenty-four hours. That meant the only one in that wedge I could safely eliminate was Silence. I really needed pictures.

  “We’re going to put Lindsey and Sundstrom in the cells at the station,” I told Tripp, answering his question.

  “On what charges?” Lindsey demanded. “I didn’t stab her.”

  “Inciting a riot,” I said without hesitation. “I have witness testimony stating you started all this.” I turned to Sundstrom next. “Assaulting an officer and obstructing justice. You shoved me out the door and locked it so I couldn’t reenter the premises.”

  “Good luck making any of that stick,” Lindsey growled.

  “Good luck getting the charges dropped,” I responded.

  “What about the others?” Tripp asked.

  “Until we know what’s going on with Silence,” I said, pondering the answer, “I can’t charge them with anything more than disorderly conduct. They were all involved with the fight. That’s kind of weak, though. I need to come up with something solid quickly.”

  “We’re bringing them all to the station, then?” Tripp asked. Jagger had joined us and was ready to act.

  “Therein lies the problem. My holding cells are small. I shouldn’t put more than one person in each cell and there are only two cells.”

  “Jail overcrowding is a serious problem in this country,” Jagger said while picking at a hangnail. “But you make do with what you’ve got.”

  “Girls in one, boys in the other?” I was joking. All I needed was for someone to muddy things by claiming inhumane conditions.

  “They won’t be in there that long.” Jagger had a wicked side I never knew about but kind of liked.

  “You can hold them at The Inn,” Laurel offered while putting chairs on top of table so they could sweep and mop the floor.

  “I didn’t realize you were still here,” I told her.

  “I’m helping Maeve clean up. A couple of her employees were really upset about the fight. She sent them home, so I offered to stay. Anyway, I’m pretty sure we’ve got rooms on the top floor that aren’t being used. You can put them there, and we’ll make sure they don’t escape.”

  “I’ll sit in the hall and do guard duty.” Jagger cracked his knuckles, really getting into character now. I almost asked who he’d worked for as a bodyguard but wasn’t sure I really wanted to know.

  I observed my suspects, whom we’d spread out around the room. I hadn’t interviewed them yet and didn’t want them talking to each other before I did.

  “Any chance you’ve got four empty rooms?” I asked Laurel.

  She stared off into a corner of the ceiling, doing a mental head count. “I think so. Let me call over to Emery.”

  I pulled my walkie-talkie out from beneath my jersey and handed it to her. Thirty seconds later, we had confirmation that the third floor was free. Only three parties were staying at The Inn, and to make things easier on the housekeeping staff, Emery put all three guests on the second floor.

  “Okay,” I said, “this works. I’ll stay at the station—” I groaned and dropped my head back.

  “What’s wrong?” Tripp asked.

  “I promised Tavie I’d be there for her when she got back to the B&B. And I need to speak with her, Gloria, and Melinda and get their versions of the events.”

  “I’ll stay at the station,” he offered.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  He couldn’t have looked more insulted. “I’m more than capable of babysitting a couple of thugs.”

  “There’s a reason cops have partners,” I said.

  “I’ll be his partner.” A man named Gino stepped forward. He and Tripp had become friends when Gino entered the Mabon cooking competition. He had an outdoor pizza oven Tripp had been drooling over. He was determined to install one on our back patio.

  “Where’d you come from?” I thought it was only us, the vigilantes, and Triple G employees still here.

  Gino pointed at the front door. “I was outside talking to some people and came in to use the bathroom.”

  “Can I babysit if Gino partners with me?” Tripp asked with attitude.

  “You may,” I replied, ignoring the attitude. “Thank you, Gino.”

  While Tripp, Gino, and Meeka waited at Grapes, Grains, and Grub with Lindsey and Sundstrom, I walked with Jagger, Laurel, and the rest of our merry band of suspects over to The Inn. After removing the telephones and televisions—they were on lockdown, not vacation—we put the four into separate rooms.

  “I’m not crazy about you being here alone.” I gave Jagger the same speech I’d just given Tripp. “I know you’re like The Hulk’s son, but still.”

  “I’ll hang out with him,” Emery said from behind us in the third-floor hallway.

  It took all my effort not to laugh at this. Emery was five foot eleven and about a hundred twenty pounds.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, his voice cracking and his hands held up in a let-me-explain pose. “I’ve been studying kyusho-jitsu for years.”

  As Laurel and I looked at each other, confused, Jagger asked, “Black belt?”

  “Got it two months ago.” Emery stood tall and proud.

  “Cool.” Jagger nodded. “You can be on my team anytime.”

  “What’s kyusho-jitsu?” I asked.

  “It’s like a martial arts secret society,” Jagger explained. “They teach pressure point techniques.”

  Laurel shook her head. “I had no idea . . . Wait. Is that what you were doing here that night?”

  “Practicing my forms,” Emery explained, blushing.

  “Looked like you were dancing with a ghost,” she teased.

  He shrugged. “I need something to keep busy while working the night shift. It gets a little boring here sometimes.”

  She pointed at Emery. “Show us.”

  Emery turned to Jagger. “Want to be my victim?”

  Jagger swallowed then agreed. “Just don’t knock me out.”

  “Are you serious?” I asked, laughing. Emery was a couple inches taller, but Jagger weighed at least three times as much.

  Jagger moved into position and grabbed Emery by the shirt with both hands as though attempting to attack him. In a flash, Emery had him by both wrists, pressed on some secret spot, and Jagger dropped to his knees.

  “Uncle!” Jagger wheezed, begging for release, genuine pain on his face.

  “Works for me.” I might have more deputy candidates in this village than I realized.

  We dragged two overstuffed recliners into the hallway outside the rooms and left the men to happily discuss the various kinds of martial arts.

  Meeka and I ran back to Grapes, Grains, and Grub, and found Tripp and Gino loading takeout bags.

  Tripp grinned. “Leftover Thanksgiving food for midnight snacks.”

  Seemed all four of my guards were set to have good nights. Tripp rushed up to the west side parking lot to get his truck while Gino, Meeka, and I walked the two remaining vigilantes through the village. Once Lindsey and Sundstrom had used t
he restroom and were locked in their cells, Tripp walked me out the station’s back door. I handed him the station keys, and he gave me the set for his truck.

  “You’re sure you’re okay staying here?”

  “I’m sure.” He looked a little sheepish as he added, “This will sound stupid, but it’s something different.”

  “Different from tending to guests’ needs all day, going to bed, and getting up to do it all over again?” When he nodded, I said, “It doesn’t sound stupid. You’re not bored with B&B life already, are you?”

  He ruffled Meeka’s ears after depositing her in the passenger’s seat, grabbed something from the glovebox, and then closed the door. “No, I’m not even a little bored. This is kind of like a field trip, though. Those are always fun.”

  “Not always.” I thought back to elementary and middle school. “Do you know how many times we took class trips to Old World Wisconsin? Fun the first time. A little fun the second. Total snooze fest the next two.”

  “Since I have no idea what Old World Wisconsin is, I’ll take your word for it.” He pulled me in for a hug. “If anything goes even remotely sideways, I’ll call you.” He held up the deck of playing cards he’d taken from the glovebox. “Me and Gino are going to play poker.”

  “Tavie and I will probably drink tea and talk about what happened at Triple G tonight.”

  “Fun,” he said half-heartedly.

  “I’d rather play poker.”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “Strip poker?”

  “Sure, but that might be a little awkward with Gino.”

  He kissed me deep and then tucked me into the driver’s seat. “Go take care of Tavie.”

  ~~~

  Tavie’s car wasn’t in the driveway when I got there. I debated about calling the hospital and asking for an update on Silence. They’d been gone a long time. Surely, they’d be back soon, though.

  Meeka looked up at me when she came in from yard patrol, confused to find me in the kitchen making tea instead of getting ready for bed.