Toni Donovan Mysteries- Books 1-3

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Toni Donovan Mysteries- Books 1-3 Page 42

by Helen Gray


  Toni turned to the boys, who were listening. “I need to go talk to someone,” she explained. “I won’t be gone long, but you get to visit with the Zachary’s.”

  They both grinned.

  Chapter 15

  After Toni dropped the boys, she headed out of town as if going to the Temple of Light Church. But when she got to the lane, she kept going. She had no recollection of the road she was looking for, but Mrs. Goldman had assured her she would have no difficulty finding it. The woman said she had visited the Dayton farm once when Brock and Hillary were going together, and had described an obscure little lane along a flat section of road. She said there was a mailbox at the road with the name Dayton on it. It was already dusk, so Toni was anxious to locate it before it got too dark to see.

  When she spotted the mailbox and identified the road, she emitted a sigh of relief. The lane was supposed to dead end at the Dayton home, so she had it made. The landscape appeared deserted and lonely, sparse patches of scraggly brush dotting the fields. No neighboring houses were visible.

  The lane curved back parallel to the highway for about a mile and ended in front of a wooden frame house that had been painted yellow. Toni parked, made her way onto the small porch, and rang the bell. She waited. And waited.

  The man who finally appeared in the doorway was gaunt and unkempt, and supported by a pair of crutches. His hair sparse and receding, he appeared to be in his late fifties or early sixties. He wore rumpled dark brown pants and an equally rumpled blue tee shirt.

  “Mr. Dayton?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” His voice was raspy and unwelcoming.

  “Good evening, I’m Toni Donovan. I teach at the local high school, and some of my students…”

  “I know who you are,” he cut her off brusquely.

  Toni gathered her courage. “Mr. Dayton, I understand your reluctance to talk to me, but I would really appreciate it if you would let me come in and visit a little bit.”

  Her plea seemed to surprise him. He hesitated a moment, and then backed up, balancing his weight on the crutches. “Come on in,” he said with an air of gruff forbearance.

  Toni stepped past him into a living room furnished with old-fashioned furniture. Knick-knacks abounded on nearly every surface available, and pictures covered the walls in a disorganized array. She perched on the end of a blue striped sofa that was covered with so many throw pillows there was barely room for her to sit.

  “Arlie, there’s a car out front,” a woman called, coming through a doorway from what Toni guessed must be the kitchen. She wore an apron over a simple cotton house dress and was wiping her hands on a dish towel. Buxom and rumpled, her hair was streaked with gray and twisted up on the back of her head.

  “This is Mrs. Donovan, the teacher whose kids found those bones,” Mr. Dayton said, moving awkwardly into the overstuffed rocker across the room from the sofa. “My wife, Bernice,” he said to Toni.

  His wife bustled over to his chair, took the crutches from him, and fussed over him a bit. “I told him to stay out of that tree. I had just told him that,” she repeated plaintively to Toni. “Then an hour later I looked out and saw him and the ladder on the ground beside it. He never listens.” She shook her head and formed an expression of longsuffering.

  “Be quiet, Bernice,” he snapped.

  She drew herself up huffily. “Well! If that’s how you’re gonna be, you can just take care of yourself.” She set the crutches against the arm of his chair, marched to a wooden rocker, and plopped down in it. The corners of her mouth turned down in displeasure.

  Toni was uncomfortable with their domestic bickering, but she tried to keep her expression impassive. “I hate to bring up a subject that is unpleasant for you,” she began. “But a man has been murdered, and the police need as much information about him as possible.”

  “Then why are you here instead of them?” he demanded rudely.

  “The chief of police and I have a good working relationship,” she explained. “Since I stumbled into the case in a personal way, he has welcomed any contribution I can make. I understand that your daughter and Reverend Goldman had a personal relationship that didn’t end well. Can you possibly tell me something about that time? How long did they go together? How well did you know him?”

  “I’ve been trying for years to not remember anything about that phony piece of work,” Arlie Dayton huffed in a tone of disgust.

  “Well, he was an eloquent speaker,” Mrs. Dayton said in unexpected defense.

  “But he wasn’t one to get his hands dirty, not in the way of work I mean,” he said with a snort.

  Mr. Dayton looked like a man who had done hard physical labor all his life. Toni could see how he would put a low value on work as sedentary as the ministry.

  She chose to ignore the comment. “Someone said he and your daughter met in St. Louis. Is that correct?”

  “That’s right,” he said, his lip curling. “She went up there and got a job after she finished high school. We wanted her to stay here with us, but she said she couldn’t find work here, and she was tired of living in a small town.”

  “How did they meet?”

  “She joined a church up there, and he was already a member. He wasn’t the pastor. He traveled a lot and preached all around the country, but he was in and out of his home church. Hillary was the new girl in the neighborhood, and a good-looking one. He cozied right up to her, and she fell for him big. Next thing we knew, she was making plans to marry him. Then our preacher here passed away. Hillary and the guy had been here on visits, so the members at Temple knew him and asked him to fill in for us.”

  “What a mistake that was,” Bernice interrupted, her tone laced with bitterness.

  “When did they break up?” Toni asked.

  Mrs. And Mrs. Dayton both thought about it for several moments, and then Bernice spoke. “It was about six months after they moved down here and he started preaching at the church regularly. Hillary was staying with us. When he broke up with her, she left and went back to the city.”

  “It should have been him left,” Arlie barked. “This was her home all her life. He just came here because of her. But he said he hadn’t done anything wrong—and stayed at the church.”

  “We tried to talk to him in a civil way,” Bernice said.

  “But he wouldn’t talk to us,” Arlie broke in again. “Said it was between him and her. We couldn’t go to our church any more with him there.”

  “Then she did what she did,” Bernice said, her hands clenched in her lap and her face contorted in pain.

  Toni didn’t know how to respond. She had no idea what Hillary had done, and she was afraid to ask.

  Arlie sat silent, staring at her from a stony face. “She tried to commit suicide,” he said at last. “And she nearly succeeded.”

  Toni gasped and put a hand over her mouth.

  “She took a bunch of pills and put a bag over her head,” he continued in a flat recital. “When Monica found her—that’s my sister she was staying with in St. Louis—she had stopped breathing. Monica’s a nurse, so she was able to give her CPR and call nine-one-one.” He choked and stopped speaking.

  “She was in a coma for three months,” Bernice said, picking up the story. “She lived, but she suffered brain damage from lack of oxygen. She’s making progress, but she has short-term memory loss, digestive problems, and balance problems. Her vision is also damaged. She’s still living with Monica, which is a big help. Like I said, Monica’s a nurse, and she loves Hillary like her own.”

  “She has good doctors up there,” Arlie spoke again, having regained some composure. “She gets regular therapy, and she’s learning Braille. We go up and spend time with them when we can. We’re thinking of putting this place up for sale and moving up there permanently.”

  “I had no idea any of that had happened,” Toni said. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through and how you feel.”

  “In the Bible God says ‘vengeance is mine’,” Arlie quoted
, anger radiating from him. “But in this case someone gave Him some help.”

  “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for your trouble,” Toni said. “But I’ve spoken to Mrs. Goldman, and the loss of her son has torn her life apart also.”

  Arlie and Bernice sat rigid, deep in thought. Arlie spoke first. “I’m sorry for her. She can’t help what her son was or did, and she seemed like a decent lady. Finding out her son was killed has to be a terrible thing for her to live with.”

  “It bothers me to think there’s a killer—or killers—walking around free,” Toni continued doggedly. “That’s why I’m here.”

  The man took a deep breath. “I guess I haven’t gotten used to thinking of the man as a victim yet. To me he was a dandy, a stuffed shirt who should never have come here.”

  “Do you know of anything that was going on in his personal life besides your daughter and the church?”

  “As soon as he dumped Hillary, he took up with that Vickers woman. After that one time we tried to talk to him, I never spoke to him again. We couldn’t sit and listen to him preach, so we quit going to the church.” His mouth clamped tight in anger.

  “How long after that did he disappear?”

  “Almost a year,” Bernice supplied. “He was a rat, a two-faced hypocrite,” she went on, determined to get in her licks. “He was smooth-tongued and a sharp dresser. Like Arlie said, women liked him—and he liked them. One of them probably killed him.”

  Toni couldn’t think of anything more to be gained from the conversation, so she got to her feet. “Thank you for your time. Don’t bother getting up,” she said to Arlie as he reached for his crutches. “I’ll see myself out.”

  *

  “Now that I’ve met her, I remember seeing her running the first aid booth at the festival,” Jeremy was saying to his two pals.

  “Well, she didn’t have to be so mean about not talking to us,” Dack huffed.

  They were sitting in his car in front of a frame house on a back street of Brownville. His mom had found a record of property owned by Nurse Madison Vickers, and they had looked it up so they could talk to the woman. She had flat refused to talk to them and demanded that they leave her premises.

  “Let’s go to Sonic and have milkshakes,” Q suggested.

  Dack started the car and pulled into the street.

  *

  The remainder of Toni’s evening was quiet and uninterrupted—thank goodness. She was tired. As soon as the boys were in bed, she curled up on her bed with a book and read until she fell asleep.

  Wednesday morning it was cloudy and windy, indicative of an approaching summer storm. With the scene at the Dayton farm replaying in her mind, Toni put on white slacks, a blue satin blouse, and blue one inch heeled shoes.

  The boys wolfed their cereal, anxious to get going. They were excited about the end of the school term being so near, and anxious to get there, as if they could hurry the passing of the days.

  Outside, the temperature was brisk. The wind blew leaves and dust across the windshield. The weather prediction was for a continuation of the present conditions throughout the day, with rain coming in from the southeast during the night.

  By the time they arrived at school, the boys’ chatter of the things they wanted to do during summer vacation had Toni infected with their fever of anticipation. What sounded most appealing to her at that moment was being able to sleep late mornings.

  As Toni entered her classroom, her phone began to ring. She dumped her things on her desk and grabbed it. “Hello.”

  “Morning, Toni. This is Dillon. I’m looking at the master schedule here. Am I correct in thinking your first hour class was all seniors and you’re free this hour?”

  “That’s right.”

  “If you’re not tied up with anything else, I have something I’d like to show you. Can you meet me here in my work room?”

  “I can be there in five to ten minutes.”

  When Toni arrived, she found her principal present. She assumed—hoped—this meeting meant there was news on the grade hacking.

  “Have a seat there.” With a jerk of his head Dillon indicated the chair next to Ken, while concentrating on connecting a projector to his computer and beaming it onto a white screen on the wall in front of them. When he had it focused to his satisfaction, he faced them somberly.

  “Dack’s grade has been changed. It was done last night at eight-thirty-seven on computer number twelve in the library. When the computer was booted, the motion activated cameras in that area kicked in and filmed the show for us. You’ll see the time on the screen.”

  He stopped speaking and turned on the video.

  As soon as a figure came into view on the screen, Ken flung his hands up over his eyes. “Oh, no,” he groaned. “I knew she was in desperate financial straits, but I never dreamed she’d resort to something like this.”

  There on the screen was Bonnie Wolfe of the evening custodial staff. They watched as she approached the computer, booted it, logged on, and went about changing Dack’s grade in the network system.

  Toni was dismayed. She liked Bonnie and didn’t want this to be true about her. But the proof was irrefutable. The video and the timing matched the changes in Dack’s grade.

  “She works second shift,” Ken said numbly. “That’s why she didn’t know about all the students being pulled in and questioned. Monday night the custodial crew was kept busy setting up and taking down stuff for the Fine Arts Fair, so last night was the first opportunity she had to get in there without being seen.”

  “I’m sorry,” Dillon said quietly. “I hate it, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  Ken rubbed his forehead wearily. “You’ve done what you had to do. Now I’ll do what I must. She’ll have to be fired, but I’ll leave it up to the board whether to prosecute. I won’t recommend it, but I won’t fight it.”

  *

  Dack, Jeremy, and Q met at eleven o’clock for lunch at McDonald’s. Over burgers and fries they chatted nonstop. They were excited about the unaccustomed freedom of the week, the nearness of graduation, and their involvement with the local murder case, a heady combination.

  “We have a couple of hours. Let’s go back out and watch that house some more,” Dack suggested. “Maybe we’ll recognize one of the girls or someone familiar will come calling.”

  “I don’t know,” Jeremy demurred. “If we keep going out there, someone is going to spot us—especially if we go in broad daylight.” He glanced up at the cloudy sky. “And it may rain.”

  “It’s not going to rain until this evening, which is why we need to go this afternoon,” Dack insisted.

  “He’s right,” Q said in his usual brief manner.

  Jeremy shrugged fatalistically. “Okay.”

  Thirty minutes later they parked in their secluded hideout and once again hiked to the edge of the woods behind the house. There were two girls sitting in chairs on the verandah, engrossed in conversation.

  “We have to stay out of sight,” Dack whispered needlessly, edging back behind a tree.

  Jeremy and Q each found trees big enough to conceal them.

  They sat for a half hour, just watching and listening—to nothing. They couldn’t hear the girls talking, and there was no other activity visible.

  Dack, antsier than his pals, began to twitch and peer around restlessly. He gave a hand signal that they should head back, but just then the girls left their chairs and went inside. He darted over to Jeremy’s tree and beckoned Q to join them. “Let’s move down around the tree line and get where we can see the house and driveway from the side,” he whispered.

  They peered down that way and nodded. Cautiously they moved farther back into the trees, and then worked their way around and down the hill until they were positioned between the house and the road. They found a vantage spot where they could sit on the ground together and watch the front of the house and driveway.

  “I’m glad we don’t have a game today,” Jeremy whispered.

&
nbsp; “Yeah, but we’ve got practice at three,” Dack whispered back. “We’ll have to be out of here by two-thirty.”

  “Nothing’s happening,” Jeremy pointed out a half hour later.

  No sooner had the words left his mouth than they heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. Moments later a late model black Chrysler rolled into sight, drove through the gate, and pulled to a stop near the entrance of the house. A man stepped out.

  “That’s Mr. Hudson,” Dack whispered.

  The man knocked at the door, and seconds later a woman wearing a nurse’s uniform opened it. She stepped outside, pulled the door closed behind her, and went into his arms. As they kissed, Jeremy pulled his cell phone from his pocket and snapped a couple of shots.

  The couple pulled apart and went inside.

  “Wow,” Dack whispered while his friends sat in silent contemplation. “That has to be Nurse Vickers.”

  “And Mitch’s dad,” Jeremy groaned, shaking his head. “Drat!” Then he went totally still. “Did you see that?”

  “What?” Dack asked.

  He pointed toward the far end of the house. “I saw a drape move back into place in that room. It’s the one I took a picture of that looks like a small clinic.”

  Q shot to his feet. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They hurried back to Q’s pickup as quietly as they could. All three rode in thoughtful silence to ball practice.

  As Q pulled into the parking lot where they had left their vehicles, Dack spoke. “Let’s meet after supper and go talk to Cindy, see if she can remember anything else about the time she was out at that place.”

  They agreed.

  Chapter 16

  Toni’s phone rang during third hour. She left the computer she was using and grabbed it.

  “Can you come by the station after school?” Buck greeted her. “I’d like to go over some things with you.”

  “I’ll be there about two-thirty.”

  After she disconnected, Toni went next door and tapped on John’s door, easing it open enough for him to identify her. “Can you take my boys home with you for an hour or so?” she mouthed quietly when he stepped near.

 

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