Blood and Justice

by Rayven T. Hill

  He noticed his vegetable garden was coming nicely. The tomatoes were turning red, and growing. He looked forward to enjoying them.

  He strolled contentedly toward the barn, enjoying the cool of the early evening.

  He swung open the small entry door beside the huge double doors of the barn. He stepped inside, and could see Jenny lying down, curled up on the blanket, over by the far wall.

  She looked at him, without moving, as he came nearer.

  He picked up a folding chair and moved it closer, just a few feet away from her. He sat down, putting the container of food on the floor beside him, and then leaned over with his chin in his hands, and stared at her.

  She sure was pretty. Even though she probably needed a wash, and maybe some clean clothes, well, she still looked awful pretty.

  He glared at her and didn’t speak.

  Neither did she.

  Finally, he sat up straight, and said. “I brought you something to eat.”

  He picked up the container, and stood and moved over to her. He set the meal down beside her, and returned to his chair without speaking.

  She ignored the food.

  “It’s good,” he said. “Macaroni and cheese. I made it myself. You should try it. It’s very good.”

  She ignored his suggestion, and closed her eyes, remaining silent.

  “You should talk to me,” he said.

  She opened her eyes. “Why?”

  “Because I need your help.”

  “What kind of help?”

  “I don’t know what to do with you.” He sighed.

  She said nothing.

  Then she spoke. It was a statement, but almost like a question. “You can let me go.”

  He was quiet for a minute, and then said softly, gently, “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you would tell the police what I did to Chad. They wouldn’t understand. Nobody seems to understand what I did was for the best. Only Mother and Father do. But they’re dead.”

  Silence for a moment.

  “I understand why you had to do it,” Jenny said.

  He thought for a moment, and then frowned at her and asked, “And why did I do it?”

  Jenny still had no idea why he had killed Chad, and was holding her.

  Finally, she said uncertainly, “Because he deserved it.”

  Jeremy stood up and glared at her. “Deserved it why? Why did he deserve it?”

  Jenny was silent.

  He sat down again and folded his arms. “You’re lying to me.”

  Nobody spoke.

  Then he shouted fiercely, “You are pretending to understand, just so I will let you go.”

  Jenny thought quickly. “Sorry,” she said calmly. “I didn’t mean to lie to you. I don’t know the reason, but I realize you must have a good reason, or you wouldn’t have done it.”

  Jeremy looked at her out of one eye, skeptically. Should he believe her? No, probably not. She’s a liar.

  “I’ll tell you the reason,” he said, calm now.

  She waited. He hesitated.

  “He’s a criminal. He broke the law. He’s a thief.”

  Jenny widened her eyes. Then she blinked, and asked in disbelief, “That’s why you killed him?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you don’t even know him.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I know what he did.”

  “How... how did you know?”

  “I have my ways. I see things. I hear things. I know things.”

  Silence.

  “So, have there been others?” Jenny asked.

  “Just two others. So far.”

  “Who were the others?”

  “Doesn’t concern you.”

  “Were they the same? You know, criminals too?” she asked.

  “Yes, they were.”

  “I’m not a criminal,” she said.

  “Yes, I know. And that’s why I have such a problem. I don’t know what to do with you.”

  Chapter 22

  Friday, August 12th, 6:40 PM

  AMELIA WAS IN HER massive kitchen when the knocker clanked. She had just cut some fresh flowers from the flowerbeds behind the house, and was arranging them. A tall vase stood on the table beside her. She dropped the flowers into the vase and went to the lobby.

  Lilia had already answered the door. Hank was standing inside, and he grinned when he saw her.

  She smiled back. “Hi,” she said. She motioned for him to go into the sitting room. “Come in.”

  She asked Lilia to bring some coffee, and then followed him and they took a seat on the divan, facing each other.

  Hank noticed the photo albums had been closed, but were still on the coffee table.

  “How have you been?” he asked.

  “Fairly well, considering the circumstances.”

  Hank nodded slowly, and said, “Have you seen the news?”

  She cocked her head. “No.” She said it in a questioning tone.

  “The body of Bronson has been recovered.”

  She caught her breath.

  “The medical examiner reports he was likely killed about the same day he was last seen. Ten days ago.”

  She waited for him to continue.

  “He was murdered,” he said. “Shot in the head.”

  Amelia looked horrified. “And Jenny...”

  “Still no word on Jenny, but absolutely no reason to think she has come to any harm.”

  She looked hopeful. “So... If Bronson died ten days ago, but Jenny was still ok as of yesterday, then...”

  “Then she’s still ok today,” Hank assured her.

  Amelia feared the worst. “But why was Jenny kidnapped? She did say she’s ok.”

  “That’s what we don’t know.”

  “Where was Bronson found?”

  “Annie found his body. She was doing some investigating, and she found him buried in the woods along County Road 12.”

  Amelia’s brow rose. She opened her mouth and stared at him.

  “I’ll tell you something Amelia. Annie and Jake really know what they’re doing. They found things the police missed. If anyone can find Jenny, they can.”

  Lilia eased in the room, set a tray with a pot of coffee, two mugs, and a plate of some sort of sugar cookies, on the coffee table, and silently left.

  Hank poured two cups of coffee, and fixed his up with cream and sugar. He grabbed a cookie and sat back, holding his cup. He devoured the cookie in two bites, and sipped at his coffee.

  Amelia had prepared her coffee as well. She sat back, holding it with both hands wrapped around it, staring into the cup.

  Hank looked thoughtfully at her, debating with himself whether or not to mention Mrs. Bellows. He put his arm on the back of the couch and cleared his throat, as if making a decision.

  “As you know, Amelia, we live in a pretty safe city. There hasn’t been a murder here as long as I can recall, but...”

  She looked up.

  He moistened his lips, and continued, “An old woman was killed today as well. There doesn’t seem to be any connection, but we’re still looking for one.”

  Horror gripped her face.

  Hank pulled out his notepad. Flipping it open, he withdrew a photo of Mrs. Bellows. He held it up, and showed it to her.

  “Can you recall, have you ever seen this woman, or heard the name, Edna Bellows?” he asked.

  Amelia looked thoughtfully at the picture for a moment, and shook her head.

  “The face doesn’t look familiar,” she said, “and neither does the name. Is that the woman that was...”

  Hank nodded.

  “I don’t think Jenny knows her either, but I can’t be sure,” she said.

  Hank finished his coffee, set the cup back on the tray and selected another cookie. He munched it thoughtfully for a moment, and then stood.

  Amelia stood as well. Hank placed his hand gently on her arm and looked intently at her.

  “We are all making Jenny’s disappear
ance a top priority,” he said, “but now I have to go. It’s been great to see you again, but I want to get back on this. I promise you, I won’t rest until Jenny is home.”

  Amelia smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said, as she moved closer and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

  Hanks eyes shot open, and he grinned foolishly.

  He felt like an idiot when he turned, and almost hit the wall on his way out.

  Friday, August 12th, 7:00 PM

  ANNIE WAS IN THE office of Lincoln Investigations when the doorbell rang.

  She heard Matty call from the other room, “I’ll get it!”

  She dropped her pen, slipped the desk drawer shut, and then stood and walked through the doorway of the office, just as Matty came running back.

  “Mom! There’s a woman here to see you.”

  Annie went to the front door and swung it open. She frowned as she recognized the caller. A cameraman was standing beside her, his camera pointed at Annie.

  “Mrs. Lincoln,” the woman said, “I’m Lisa Krunk from Channel 7 Action News. I wonder if I might ask you a few questions?”

  Annie was still frowning when a microphone was shoved in her face. She hesitated, and then said, “Yes?”

  “I understand you are the one who found the body of Chad Bronson this morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you and your husband are private investigators, is that correct?”

  “Yes, we are.”

  “Can you tell us a little more about that? What led you to Bronson’s body?”

  Other newspapers and TV stations hadn’t been so demanding, but Lisa Krunk was known for being pushy. Annie was a bit annoyed. She didn’t know how much she should say about the case. It was still an ongoing police investigation, and they hadn’t released all of the details to the public. She had to be careful.

  “Bronson’s car was found abandoned a few days ago,” she said, “and forensics showed it had recently been in an area we determined was along County Road 12.”

  “And so you went there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Weren’t you a bit worried about going there alone?”

  “There was no reason to believe I was in any danger. Besides,” Annie added indignantly, “I am quite capable of taking care of myself.”

  “Yes, it appears you are.” She waited for Annie to continue.

  She didn’t.

  Krunk said, “Sources tell us Bronson’s death is related to the disappearance of sixteen-year-old Jenny James. Is that correct?”

  Annie thought a moment. “That is yet to be determined,” she said.

  “Have you made any progress on finding Miss James?”

  “Yes, we are making progress, and we expect to find her safe and sound very soon.”

  “So, given the fact she was known to be with Bronson, who is now dead, you still believe Miss James has not been killed as well?”

  “Definitely not,” Annie said sharply. She decided not to mention Jenny’s phone call, but added. “We have reason to believe she is in no danger.”

  “Is there anything else you’d like to add, Mrs. Lincoln?”

  “No, that’s all at this time.”

  “Thank you for your time.”

  The cameraman swung the camera over to Krunk.

  “We will bring you breaking news as it happens. In an exclusive report, I’m Lisa Krunk, live for Channel 7 Action News.”

  The cameraman shut the camera off, and lowered it. Lisa Krunk waved a ‘thank you’ as Annie shut the door.

  Chapter 23

  Friday, August 12th, 8:02 PM

  THE MEDICAL examiner’s report Hank received didn’t seem to shed any light on the murder.

  He frowned as he leafed through the pages of the report. The observations Nancy Pietek had made at the crime scene had proved to be correct.

  The cause of death was stated to be a fatal wound penetrating the left atrium. The weapon used was a broad serrated knife, possible a hunting knife or similar.

  The time of death was determined to be approximately 1:00 PM on August 12th.

  Hank had requested to view the evidence collected from the crime scene.

  He pulled the box toward him. Lying on top was a handbag. He removed it from the evidence box and tipped out its contents onto his desk.

  Not much there.

  Besides the groceries in the bag, he took another look at the package of meat, now turning a brownish, sickly, hue. Better get this in cold storage, he thought grimly.

  He snapped open her change purse. There were a few coins, and ten dollars in bills. The only other thing in the handbag was a single key. He looked at it. Undoubtedly the key to the apartment.

  Other than Mrs. Bellows, no fingerprints had been found inside the apartment, or on the door, or doorframe.

  The building had no security cameras, so that was a dead end too. Everyone in the building had been questioned. No one had seen anything, or anyone, unusual.

  Hank sat back and scratched his head, staring intently at the box of evidence in front of him, trying to determine his next course of action.

  Friday, August 12th, 8:25 PM

  ANNIE WAS WATCHING Jake and Matty wrestle on the floor of the living room when the office phone rang.

  She got to it after the second ring. It was Hank.

  “I thought I might drop by for a minute, if you’re not busy,” he said.

  “Sure. Jake and I are both here.”

  “Great. Just coming up the street now. See you soon.”

  She hung up the phone. Jake looked up, a question mark on his face, as she came into the room, and sat down in an overstuffed armchair.

  “It’s Hank,” she said. “He’s on his way over.”

  While Jake was distracted, Matty took the opportunity to slip free, and pin his father flat on his back.

  “Ok, I give up. You win,” Jake announced.

  Matty grinned and climbed off.

  “I’ll get you next time,” Jake warned.

  “Yeah, I doubt that,” Matty said, as he plunked himself down on the couch. “Any time you want big guy!”

  The doorbell rang and Matty charged to the door. He whipped it open. “Hey, Uncle Hank!”

  Hank ruffled Matty’s hair. “Hey, Matty,” he said with a grin.

  “We’re in here,” Jake called from the other room.

  Matty followed Hank as he went into the living room, set his briefcase on the floor, and dropped onto the other end of the couch, where Hank was. Matty hopped up and sat between them.

  Hank said, “I got the M.E.’s report here for Bronson, as well as the ballistics report.” He reached down and clicked open his briefcase, and withdrew some papers. “I also have the report on Mrs. Bellows.”

  Jake took the report on Bronson from Hank, and then looked at Matty. “Why don’t you go do your homework, Matty? We have some boring things to discuss here.”

  “I did my homework,” Matty announced.

  “Then go read, or something,” Annie said. “It’s almost your bedtime anyway.”

  “All right, I know when I’m not wanted,” Matty said dryly. He jumped off the couch. “See you later Uncle Hank.”

  “See you later Bud.”

  Matty raced from the room. He could be heard running furiously up the stairs.

  “There’s not a lot of enlightenment there,” Hank said, pointing to the report Jake held. “The thing of interest is, there was no exit wound on Bronson. The gun used was a 22-caliber pistol. The bullet was still inside his skull. Not much power in those 22s. Certainly enough to kill, especially at close range, but the deadly thing about them is, once the bullet gets inside the skull, it just bounces around, and around, completely tearing apart everything inside.”

  Annie scrunched up her nose in distaste at the thought. “Not a nice way to go.”

  “No, it’s not,” Hank agreed.

  “I don’t see the difference,” Jake s
aid. “In the head, or through the head. If I had my choice, it would be neither one,” he chuckled.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right about that,” Hank said. He pointed at the report again. “Also, I already assumed this, but the report states Bronson was killed elsewhere, and then brought there and buried.”

  Jake nodded.

  “What about the blanket?” Annie asked.

  “Nothing much to go on there. Just a regular blanket. Lots of blood on it, and a few fibers from an unknown make of car, but nothing else.”

  Annie frowned, and looked thoughtful.

  Hank continued, “I dropped by Amelia’s and filled her in as well. I also asked her if she knew Mrs. Bellows. No luck there.”

  Annie leaned forward. “It rained a couple of days after Bronson was killed,” she said. “I remember seeing the ground was a little concave in that area. The rain probably caused that.”

  “Yes, for sure,” Jake said. “It’s almost impossible to fill in a hole and flatten the ground. There’s always some air trapped inside, that can go away later. Even if you stomp it down with your feet, it doesn’t completely work.”

  “Ahhh.” Annie whacked herself on the forehead with the palm of her hand.

  They looked at her in dismay. “What is it?” Jake asked.

  Annie shook her dead. “It completely slipped my mind...”

  “Spit it out.”

  “When I first saw the concave area on the spot that had made me curious, I brushed away some of the leaves and twigs, and I saw a footprint. A child’s footprint. And when I removed more leaves, I saw more footprints. That’s really what made me suspicious. All those footprints made it look certain somebody had tried to pack the ground down.”

  Hank whistled.

  Jake was bewildered, “A child’s footprint?”

  “It sure looked like it,” Annie replied. “At least, it was quite small. Maybe a size six, or seven.”

  “Maybe a woman,” Jake suggested.

  “There aren’t many woman who would use that MO. They don’t bury bodies. Rarely, that is.”

  “Then maybe it was a young person, or somebody with really small feet.” Annie suggested.