Toni Donovan Mysteries- Books 1-3

by Helen Gray

  Kyle was home and had steaks grilling and potatoes baking when Toni arrived. She made a salad and had everything ready when John and Jenny arrived. They ate promptly, and then everyone piled into Toni’s van. They dropped the boys with her parents and arrived at the funeral home by seven o’clock. At the entrance they joined the line wending its way inside the chapel. The room was already overflowing, so they moved with the crowd that pressed forward to express their condolences.

  After passing the closed casket and shaking hands with the hollow-eyed Guthrie family members, they spent an appropriate time in respectful memoriam. As their little foursome started out the door, they met Buck Freeman just arriving to pay his respects.

  He pulled a couple of folders from under his arm and handed them to Toni. “I recognized your van in the parking lot and brought these in, hoping to catch you. Look them over tonight, and I’ll pick them up in the morning.”

  On the way home Toni fought anger and frustration as she remembered the despairing, empty look in the eyes of those parents. Why did tragedies like this happen? Seventeen was too young to die.

  Why, God? Why?

  She slapped a hand on her thigh. “We have to stop this.”

  “Every time we think we have the answer, it falls apart,” John said from the back seat.

  Toni held up the folders. “When we get to the house let’s start over, lay out everything we have or know, along with these reports. There has to be something in here. And we have to find it.”

  *

  “First, let’s establish a timeline,” Toni said when she, John, and Jenny were gathered around the dining table with coffee and Cokes. She placed the autopsy folders and a notepad on the table before them. The television blared from the living room where Kyle had taken the boys to keep them out of the way.

  “The Christmas party was December twenty-first,” John began. “So that’s the original crime date.” He wrote it down and scooted the pad back to the center of the table.

  “The gym was empty by about five o’clock, everyone except Marsha scattered for the Christmas break,” Toni continued. “We know where some of them went, others we don’t. But there was plenty of time for someone to leave and return well before the time of the murder, which is believed to have happened about ten-thirty.” She jotted dates and times on the notepad.

  “Jimmie Huff and Dana Smith have alibis for that time,” John said. “We don’t know where Dustin was then.”

  “Or Janet.” Toni wrote her name under Dustin’s.

  “You two found the body on January third,” Jenny interjected. “It was right after we returned to school from the holiday break.” She took her turn making a note on the pad.

  “The incident in the parking lot happened on January tenth, only seven days after finding the body,” was Toni’s next contribution.

  “I still think that was because the killer thought Garrett could find him,” John said. “I just can’t figure out how the killer knew about Garrett’s role.”

  A long silence fell. “I can’t either,” Toni admitted at last. “Someone must have seen the chief’s notes. And because of that I don’t dare let my children out of my sight. Someone shot at me on January fourteenth,” she said, adding it to the list.

  “Dustin’s death wasn’t until January twenty-eighth.” John made another note.

  Toni reviewed the timeline in her mind before speaking. “At this point Janet and Dustin are the only ones on our suspect list for Marsha’s death. I talked to the coaches, Jordan on Wednesday and Lisa yesterday. They both basically said they saw nothing unusual in Dustin’s recent behavior, other than Lisa mentioning some sort of scuffle in practice one day last week.”

  “You mean the kind of argument that kids get into all the time?” Jenny asked.

  Toni nodded. “That’s what it sounds like. But I did see something that may or may not be important. When I was talking to Jordan, I noticed a flashlight on a shelf in his office, one of those heavy duty ones like Buck Freeman thinks was used to kill Marsha.” She jotted that on the list. “I know anyone can buy those anywhere, but just knowing that the athletic department keeps that kind around might be significant.”

  “Maybe you should mention that to the chief,” John suggested.

  “You’re right. I’ll do that next time I talk to him. Now let’s look at these.” She opened Marsha’s autopsy folder.

  After going over everything in it, they agreed that nothing struck them as new or helpful. They put it away and removed everything from Dustin’s folder.

  All three of them reached for one of the photos in the small stack, and then made grimaces as they studied each one and passed them around. When they had each seen all of them, Toni reclaimed one in particular. She stared at the picture. “There’s no doubt in my mind that the boy was killed. Look at the gun. It looks positioned to me. If Dustin pulled the trigger on his own, the impact would have thrown the gun away from him at an odd angle, not neat like that.”

  John and Jenny examined it closer. “I see what you mean,” Jenny said. John nodded.

  Toni stared at another photo. “There’s another thing. Look at the gunshot residue on the clothing. The picture’s fine, except for this spot here.” She moved her finger to where she meant.

  “What does it mean?” Jenny asked, frowning in perplexity. She was not steeped in science, but seemed as intrigued by the reports and pictures as Toni and John.

  John’s face brightened. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s out of place for the death shot. There were two shots.”

  “That’s right. I think it’s out of place. Let’s see what else we have here.” They each picked up a form and began to read.

  When they all finished reading, Toni returned to the fingerprint report. “Dustin’s prints were found on the trigger and stock of the gun, but the forearm was clean. There’s no way he could have held that gun in place to fire it without leaving prints there.”

  John nodded agreement. “It was wiped. Do you think the chief knows?”

  Toni considered. “I’m betting he does, now that he’s viewing it as a possible murder.” She grinned. “I think he’s testing us.”

  “I give you an A.” Jenny used an index finger to draw one in the air.

  John’s brow furrowed. “If those mistakes were made, we have an amateur killer, or amateur hunter—someone who doesn’t spend much time with guns.”

  “Good thought,” Toni said. “But it would take someone strong to drag Marsha’s body that far. And now we have a man included on our suspect list.”

  John tipped back in his chair and groaned. “So who did it?”

  “Nobody!” Jenny chirped with a grin. Then she sobered. “Sorry. It’s not funny. It’s just that it’s so frustrating.”

  Toni became serious. “Let’s go back over our suspect list. Janet Rayford is at the top. She gave us an alibi for Saturday morning, but there’s enough leeway in the time of death. And she doesn’t strike me as very physically strong. The Medical Examiner says, based on partially undigested breakfast food in Dustin’s stomach, he died between eight and ten a.m. I don’t know if it’s possible she could have done it.”

  “Dustin’s off the list now, isn’t he?” John asked.

  “I think so.” Toni nodded as she drew a line through his name. “Buck is checking on both Janet and Dustin’s whereabouts. Since Sidney, Jordan and Lisa have all mentioned the amount of time Dustin spent in the gym, I think we should try to find out how important that is. I’ll see if I can learn anything about Jordan and Lisa’s activities during the critical hours. Although,” she mused, pausing for a moment, “I don’t see how either of them could have driven that car at Garrett. They were both coaching ballgames that evening.”

  “So we still have more questions than answers. Where do we go from here?” John asked.

  Toni thought about it. “Since we’re backtracking, I think I’d like to talk to Tom Keller again.” She began putting things back in the folder. “I’m not
sure that interview was valid. He had been drinking and was pretty fuzzy, but I still got the feeling he wasn’t telling me as much as he could have. I’ll try to catch him after the funeral tomorrow. Maybe that early in the day he won’t be tanked yet.”

  When Buck Freeman stopped by the house the next morning to pick up his folders, he refused to come inside, but stood just inside the foyer and took them from Toni. It was early, and Toni was still in her robe as she told him about the session with John and Jenny and the points that came out in their discussion. When he admitted that he agreed with their conclusions, Toni mentioned the flashlight in Jordan’s office. He just nodded.

  “It seems that the gym is a center of activity,” Toni added as he turned to leave.

  “Yes, it does.” But he didn’t pursue it further.

  Chapter 16

  A surrealistic atmosphere at the funeral made Toni hug her arms and pinch them, as if that would wake her from this terrible dream, the second in such a short time. While soft music played in the background, she watched from the back pew where she and Kyle sat next to John and Jenny in a section of non-family members. She noted a large representation of school staff and students as the pews finished filling. An overflow of people lined the back walls and spilled out in the hallway and foyer.

  By the time someone sang an appropriate solo and the minister delivered a poignant eulogy to a hushed crowd, punctuated by occasional bouts of stifled sobs, Toni felt utterly brittle and drained. When the crowd filed out and left Dennis Guthrie and his family alone for a final private moment at the front of the casket, she breathed gratefully of the cold clear air outside.

  At the conclusion of a brief graveside service, John and Jenny went home, and Toni got into the van with Kyle. “Will you drive by the Railroad Bar so I can see if Tom Keller’s car is there? If it is, you can drop me off and go get the boys while I talk to him.”

  The look her husband gave her said he didn’t think much of the idea, but he didn’t bother to argue. “I’ll come right back for you.”

  Toni nodded, realizing he meant to keep guard over her. “That’ll work. Thanks.”

  Kyle drove slowly away from the cemetery and back to town. When he turned onto Elm Street, sure enough, Tom’s dark blue vehicle sat in its usual spot at the end of the street.

  He pulled to the curb to let Toni out. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. The boys and I will wait out here for you.”

  Toni entered the bar and did a quick scan of the room. It was fairly light, and it took only a moment to spot Tom at what must be his usual table near the west wall. Dressed in worn blue jeans and a plaid flannel shirt, he hadn’t bothered to remove his heavy coat. It was unzipped, exposing a large belly.

  As Toni walked toward the table, she spoke to the waitress cleaning the adjacent one. “I’ll have a Coke when you have time.”

  “Gotcha.” The older woman finished wiping the table and hustled away.

  Toni took a seat across from her quarry. “Hi, Tom. May I speak to you for a moment?”

  She was met with an unwelcoming silence that spoke volumes.

  “What do you want?” he growled, his expression bordering on hostility.

  “I need your help.” She tried to sound suitably humble.

  “I already talked to you,” he huffed.

  “I know, but I don’t think you told me as much as you could have.” A Coke appeared on the table in front of her, and she thanked the waitress.

  “I told you all I could remember,” Tom snapped, his tone becoming a snarl.

  “Listen, Tom, I’m not here to cause you any trouble. Someone took your car and tried to hurt my son with it. I’m here to plead for your help.”

  He peered at her closely, and his expression softened just a bit. He heaved a sigh of resignation. “What do you want to know?”

  “I need to find out who took your car. I’m not implying that you know who it was, but I don’t think you were entirely honest with me when we talked before.”

  Tom took his time pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and extracting one.

  “Will you tell me about it again, and not leave anything out this time?” she asked quietly.

  Tom lit the cigarette before answering. “I really can’t remember much. But I don’t think I was driving it.”

  “I don’t either. And I don’t hold you responsible. No one else does either.”

  “Well,” he said slowly, seeming relieved. “I always park in the same spot, get here ahead of the crowd so I can.”

  “On the corner, right?”

  He nodded. “I know I put it there, because I always do. And I always put my keys in my pocket.”

  “What about that night? Did you let anyone have your keys?”

  He shook his head. “No, but maybe somebody got’em and I didn’t know it.”

  Toni’s heart leaped. “What happened?”

  “Well,” he began in a slow drawl. “When I was getting out of my car that day, a guy came barreling around the corner and ran into me. I tripped and fell. He stopped and helped me get up.”

  She leaned forward on her elbows. “What about your keys? Did you drop them?”

  “I think so.” Tom rubbed an arm over his face. “I don’t remember pickin ’em up. I didn’t think about ’em til later, you see. I put my hand in my pocket, and they weren’t there. But I thought I musta left ’em in the switch and didn’t go looking for ’em.”

  “Where did you find them?”

  He hesitated, but then came clean. “When I went out that night to go home, they were in the car. In the switch.”

  “You think you had them in your hand and dropped them when someone ran into you,” she repeated thoughtfully. “But you remember that they weren’t in your pocket during the evening. Right?”

  He nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “What did the guy who ran into you look like?”

  Tom’s face twisted into a grimace. “I don’t know. He was wearing one of those winter caps that covers the whole head, like a ski mask.”

  “Did the voice sound like a man or a woman?”

  Tom shook his head. “A guy, I guess. The clothes were just a running outfit, some kind of sweat suit. I thought it was a guy. All he said was ‘Oops, sorry,’ or something like that.

  “So it could have been a man or a woman,” she said slowly.

  Uncertainty crept across his face. “I guess.”

  “What time was it when this happened?”

  He shrugged. “I guess about six o’clock. That’s when I always come down here during the week. I come earlier on Saturday, like today.”

  Toni couldn’t think of anything else he could tell her that would be helpful. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  Tom dropped his head for a moment, and then looked back up at her. “I was afraid of losing my driver’s license. I can’t afford another DUI, and I was afraid they were gonna blame me for whatever happened to your boy.”

  “Well, they’re not,” Toni assured him. “I appreciate you leveling with me.”

  Toni finished her Coke in a quick gulp and paid for it. Then she joined Kyle and the boys, her mind whirling. It could have been either a man or a woman. The athletic clothing and the running led her right back to thoughts of Jordan and Lisa. But they had both been coaching ballgames in the gym that evening.

  Sunday morning it was snowing, big fat flakes drifting leisurely to the ground. During church service, Toni sat on the edge of the pew as the pastor once again spoke of how people who say they love God, but hate their brother, are liars The sick feeling festering deep in her stomach made her bend forward in pain.

  Growing up, her parents had dragged her and her brothers to church every time there was a service. Bill, the ever-obedient child, had always gone willingly. Quint had been resistant at times. Toni had been—well, neither. In a painful bout of self-examination, she realized that she had been like the people of Laodicea spoken of in the Bible. Not hot. Not cold.
Just lukewarm. Despicable.

  Not liking the sting of what she saw in herself, Toni ached for better. Lord, my life seems to get more hectic every day. Please help me change that—and expose the killer in our midst. And please don’t let me ever hate anyone again.

  Warmth stole through her, easing the raw ache and bringing moistness to her eyes.

  By the time they exited the church, a couple inches of snow had accumulated, giving the ground a glistening cover. The boys wanted to play in it, but Toni was reluctant to let them be alone, even in their own yard.

  “I’ll go out with them after I hear a weather update,” Kyle promised.

  Satisfied, they ate the bowls of hot chili Toni served and escaped to their room. When Kyle settled in the rocker with the television remote, Toni returned to her laptop and the files from Marsha’s computer.

  The number of them was daunting. It would take hours to read everything thoroughly. Picking up where she had left off earlier, she started scanning through them, doing her best to ignore Gabe’s beginning musical efforts emanating from the bedroom. All she could say about it was that it was loud.

  She continued thumbing. Curriculum. Guidance. Interface. Jobs for Missouri Educators. No Child Left Behind. Show-Me Standards. Staff Realignment.

  Toni halted at that last one, her heart rate quickening. She pulled it out and began to read more thoroughly. It was a study on how to reduce staff. Could it be related to the report Sam and the board had expected Marsha to present at their next meeting? It began with some lengthy introductory statements, but as Toni read further she discovered that it was a two-part document. The first part contained material from state reports and was general in nature. The second part was vastly different. In Marsha’s own writing, it applied to the local district and included a list of all staff by departments. There were notes regarding the number of students served by each, along with other dry statistics.

  The final paragraph indicated that an across the board ten percent cut of certified staff and eight percent of support staff was, in Marsha’s opinion, necessary. Toni could only surmise that the woman had indeed intended to propose this plan to the board.