by S F Bose
“Not at all. It was a pleasure meeting you,” Sue replied and got up from the couch.
I smiled. “You too. Thank you for the tea and cookies. I was serious about coming out to see us at the B&B.”
“I’ll talk to my family and see when we can do that,” Sue replied and smiled.
Grabbing my bag, I followed Sue to the front hall. After shrugging into my jacket, I shook her hand and left the house.
I followed the path left back to my car jumped into Lulu. My eyes drifted from Sue Barlow’s house to her parents’ house next door. Their house was a modern ranch surrounded by big old trees and flowers. A Ford pickup truck sat in the driveway. I didn’t see any people.
I started my car and slowly pulled away. The back of my neck prickled. A worried-looking Sue Barlow watched me from a front window and raised her hand as I passed. I waved back. She must be afraid I’ll try to talk to her parents. As I drove off, I saw a shadow at a corner window of the Hill house. I turned my head quickly. For a second, I met the eyes of an older man watching me. Then he pulled back and curtains swayed where his face had been. Harley Hill.
***
Back at the office, I updated Sam on the Sue Barlow interview. He listened intently.
“So Meagher was a drunk with anger control issues and the family thinks he killed Sharon Meagher and the children,” Sam said.
“That’s it in a nutshell. They also distrust the investigation. They think the county sheriff gave him a break because he was a deputy sheriff in our county.”
Sam grimaced. “That would be quite a conspiracy. Long story short without any witnesses or bodies, there wasn’t any evidence to charge him.”
“I agree. It is strange though. Meagher swore his wife and children were wearing life vests. In fact, the Coast Guard found three vests in the lake. Why would Sharon and the children take off their vests? And why didn’t any bodies surface?”
Sam leaned back in his chair. “That’s a puzzler. Maybe Meagher lied and they weren’t wearing life vests. After he came to and saw his family was gone, he panicked and threw the vests into the lake. But it still begs the question about the bodies.”
“One possible scenario is Meagher killed his family elsewhere and disposed of the bodies. Then he went sailing. Another is that he killed them on the boat and weighted them down before dumping them,” I replied.
Sam stared at me. “You’ve thought this through. Well, we can’t solve a twenty year old mystery, Liz. We need to focus on our current case. I have to think the investigators considered all the possibilities and didn’t find any evidence to press charges.”
“I hear you,” I agreed.
“What are your next steps?” Sam asked.
“I want to wait for Mitch’s profiles. Then I’ll interview the paramedics and Rose O’Ryan and see where that leads me.”
Sam nodded. “Sounds good.”
I stood up and stretched. “I’m going to update the case file.”
“Okay, I’m going to leave a little early. I want to pick up Flip at the B&B.”
“Are you staying for dinner?” I asked.
Sam yawned. “No, I’m going to drop Flip off at home. Then I’m going over to Spiro’s to spar. I need to get rid of some more of my winter weight.”
Spiro ran Spiro’s Fitness Club near the police station. He offered boxing, a large weight room, and a cardio room. I usually hit a heavy bag that I’d hung at home. But I also went to Spiro’s to box and use the weights and cardio equipment.
I rocked back on my heels and squinted at Sam. “You don’t have any extra weight, Nolan.”
He laughed. “Oh yes I do. You just can’t see it because I’m not naked.”
We both paused and I felt the telltale heat of a blush. My mouth dropped open as I tried to think of a reply. Sam opened and closed his mouth several times like a fish out of water.
Then my brain engaged and I chuckled too late. “All right then, have a good workout,” I said and walked quickly toward the inner door that connected our offices.
Sam found his voice. “Right. Thanks. You too. I mean…have a good afternoon.”
I waved without turning around. Then I went into my office and shut the door.
I took a deep breath. Good grief, Liz, what the heck was that?
I fell into my chair and shook my head to clear out any random images of Sam in the buff. It took five minutes before I cooled down.
Then I updated the case file with a summary of my interview with Sue Barlow. I added the next steps and uploaded the audio file from my phone to the case system.
With that done, I sat at my desk trying to think about the case. However, Sam’s comment still distracted me. I left work earlier than usual. I planned to go running when I got home and then take a very cold shower.
Chapter 6
The next morning I arrived at work late. After parking Lulu next to Sam’s black Jeep Cherokee Overland, I hurried in through the northwest door of the Bowman Building and went to the stairwell. I took the stairs two steps at a time and pushed through the second floor access door. I counted running the stairs as a part of my daily exercise.
When I entered our office, the doorbell chimed, and I shouted, “It’s me.”
“Morning,” Sam replied. “Grab some coffee. Mitch sent a couple of profiles.”
“Great!” I hurried to my office and dumped my jacket and messenger bag on the chair. Since I didn’t have any interviews planned, I’d worn comfortable jeans and a red Henley. I made a mug of coffee, grabbed my notebook, and went down the hall to Sam’s office.
When I walked in the door, I stopped dead. Sam stood by his desk reading some papers. He wore a light gray suit, white shirt, and a red and black striped bow tie. His tweed cap sat on his desk.
“Wow you’re all dressed up!” I said.
Sam turned and smiled. “I’m going to Madison to have lunch with Adrian. He always dresses to the nines so…”
“Do you know how to do CPR? He may keel over,” I replied and sat in the nearest guest chair. Sam’s laugh filled the office and I laughed too.
“You look good, Nolan,” I said.
“Thanks, Bean,” he replied with a grin and dropped into his chair.
“Where’s Flip today?” I asked.
Sam’s eyes lit up. “I finally got the doggy door installed. He can go outside and hang out on the covered back deck. Or he can run around in the fenced-in back yard.” Sam lived in an old house in the country, north of town.
“He won’t jump the fence?”
Sam shook his head slowly. “No, it’s a seven foot high wooden fence. He couldn’t jump that if he wanted to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” he replied, but I saw a trace of doubt in his eyes. “Maybe I’ll call Flip’s vet to confirm that,” he said.
“Good,” I replied. Then I felt a twinge. “Sam, you’re not going to leave him home alone all the time, are you? Flip likes being around people.”
Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “No way. This just gives me another option for him. Most days I’ll bring Flip to the office. He’ll also have his doggy playdates with Grace’s dogs. Now I can also leave him home when I absolutely have to.”
“Well I can doggy sit him on evenings and weekends at the coach house too. Don’t forget that,” I offered.
“Thanks, Liz. My main goal is having options for him during the workday. But that would help too for off-hours,” he agreed. “Flip seems to like your roommates and cats.”
I nodded. My cats, Snap and Sammy, were “cow cats.” They had black, white, and gray fur. Snap was a big, mellow cat with gorgeous eyes. Sammy was smaller and filled with energy. They had met Flip before and tolerated him.
“Well I’m glad you’ll still bring Flip to the office. I’d miss having him around.”
Then I remembered the new account Sam had mentioned earlier. “Did Adrian land the Bainbridge account?”
Sam shook his head. “No, he didn’t get a reply yet.”
“Too bad. I thought this might be a celebration lunch,” I said with a smile.
“I wish. No, we just like to catch up in person every few months.”
I leaned forward to look at his tie. Months ago, Sam started experimenting with bow ties.
“Did you tie that yourself or is that one of those clip-ons?” I asked.
He touched the tie with one finger. “I tied it myself. After you do it fifty times, it gets easier.” He was serious.
“Looks good,” I replied and sipped my coffee. “It adds a pop of color.”
“You think?” he asked.
“It does. Adrian won’t recognize you,” I assured him. Sam smiled and gave me a thumbs-up.
After yesterday, I’d feared things might be awkward with Sam. But we were bantering like usual and I relaxed.
Sam handed me some papers. “These are the profiles Mitch sent for Dom Fontana and Larissa Meagher. I haven’t read them yet. He apologized for doing them out of order. The Steven Meagher profile will take longer.”
“Yeah I asked for profiles for the paramedics and Rose O’Ryan before these. But that’s okay.”
I started reading the Dom Fontana’s profile.
Dom was single and thirty-five. He had been born and raised in Madison. However, when Dom was sixteen, he and his family moved to Chicago.
“Wonder why they moved?” I asked.
“Not sure. No criminal record,” Sam murmured as he read.
“Juvie records might have been expunged,” I replied.
“True.”
Dom earned a degree from DePaul and returned to Madison in 2001. There was no record he’d ever been married. After he returned to Madison, he started "Fontana Movers and Storage.”
“Looks like he's doing well,” I commented. “He has a condo in Metropolitan Place downtown. In 2012, he bought a second house in the country near Black Earth. Everything is listed under the name Dom Fontana.”
Mitch had noted that Danvers Realty in Mystic Grove and Pinkney Realty in Black Earth handled the sale
I sighed. “No red flags on Dom.”
I sipped some coffee and moved on to the Larissa Kaye Meagher profile.
Larissa was a lifelong resident of Mystic Grove. After graduating from high school, she worked as a secretary in a real estate office. Then she met Steven Meagher and they got married in 2000 when she was twenty-one. A year later, she moved to Danvers Realty. Eventually, they sponsored her as a realtor. She worked for them as a residential buyer’s agent.
“No children. No criminal record,” Sam said.
“She must be doing well too,” I said. “She has a new 2015 red Cadillac ATS that’s paid off.”
“I noticed that,” Sam agreed.
I reread the profile again and a lightbulb lit up.
“Sam, could you look up the agents for Dom Fontana’s house in Black Earth?”
“Sure thing. Sam did a database search and a minute later he said, “Hello! Larissa Meagher was the buyer’s agent on that sale.” He looked up and smiled.
“So that’s how they met,” I replied and returned his smile.
Sam nodded. “Interesting.”
“Kerry said Larissa and Fontana ogled each other at church and Meagher did a lot of glaring. If Larissa and Fontana are involved romantically why would they flaunt it in front of her husband?”
Sam shrugged. “We may not have the complete story. It’s possible they’re not involved romantically. Maybe something else is going on.”
“Could be,” I agreed.
“So what do we know so far?” Sam asked.
I took a deep breath. “We know that Steven Meagher lost his wife and children in a boating accident in 1995. He has had both a drinking problem and bad temper for years. He acted in a threatening way toward Kerry and Mac and probably slashed the tires on Kerry’s car. Why? He acknowledged he heard she was asking questions about him. Maybe he was afraid of a negative mention in her article.”
Sam nodded. “That’s possible.”
“We also know that Larissa Meagher was the buyer’s agent for the purchase of Dom Fontana’s house in Black Earth. And they may have a relationship,” I added.
“What’s next?” Sam asked.
“I’ll update the case file with their profiles. I don’t want to interview the paramedics and Rose O’Ryan until I get their profiles. I think I’ll touch base with Matt Durand and see if he knows Meagher.”
Sam’s brown eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Matt was the young Mystic Grove Chief of Police. Sam and Matt had an ambivalent relationship. On the one hand, they were friends who played hockey and basketball together. On the other hand, they were very competitive when it came to solving crimes in Mystic Grove.
“He might have heard something about Meagher on the cop grapevine,” I replied.
Sam thought about that for a minute. “Yeah, I guess it’s worth a call,” he agreed grudgingly.
I left through the connecting door between our offices. Glancing back, I saw Sam reaching for his laptop. He looked so different all dressed up.
***
Mitch sent the profiles as separate Word documents, so it was easy to upload them and attach them to the case file.
Then I pressed the speed dial number for Matt Durand. After one ring, the call clicked over to Joyce Tani, the daytime dispatcher and desk clerk. Joyce was a friend and we chatted for a bit.
When I asked to speak to Matt, she said, “The Chief is out of the office right now. He didn’t say when he’d be back. Can I have him call you?”
“No, that’s okay, Joyce. I’ll try again later. Say ‘hi’ to Newmont for me.”
“Will do, Liz. Bye,” and we hung up.
Ron Newmont was a police deputy who worked for Matt Durand. Newmont and Joyce had been dating for a while. Years ago, he had served with Sam as a county deputy sheriff and remained one of Sam’s good friends.
My thoughts drifted to Matt Durand. I had known him most of my life. When he was a high school senior and I was a sophomore, he was the first boy to kiss me. After Matt graduated, he enlisted in the Marines and we lost touch. When I returned to Mystic Grove, I’d been surprised to learn that Matt had succeeded his father as the chief of police. I remembered him as a happy-go-lucky guy with curly brown hair and a twinkle in his eyes. Now, he seemed more serious and mature.
Shaking my head, I turned my attention to some background checks I needed to do. A growing number of businesses contracted with us to do background research and security checks on their job applicants. It was boring work, but it helped to pay the bills.
At 11:30 p.m., Sam appeared at my office door. “I’m on my way out. How’s it going?”
I looked up. “Just clearing out some background checks.” My voice reflected the boredom I felt.
Sam leaned against the doorjamb and laughed. “I understand they’re mind-numbing, but those checks are our bread-and-butter. Did Matt share anything about Meagher?”
“I haven’t talked to him yet. He was out of the office. I’ll touch base with him today or tomorrow.”
“Okay, sounds good. See you in a couple of hours,” Sam said and turned to leave.
“Have a good time,” I replied. When I heard the front door chime, I chuckled. Whenever Sam drove into Madison to see Adrian Rich, he rarely returned to the office. Once the two of them got together, they could easily spend an entire day talking.
After I finished the last background check, I went to the Farmhouse Café for lunch. It was in the seventies and breezy, so I just carried my jacket. I scored a booth in the smaller dining room and enjoyed a deluxe bacon cheeseburger. On the way out, I had a short chat with Abbie. But it was so crowded I decided to not ask her about Steven Meagher.
I returned to the office and checked my email. There weren’t any new profiles from Mitch. So I called Matt Durand’s phone and it clicked over to Joyce Tani again.
“Hi Liz, he’s still out of the office. If it’s urgent, I can call his c
ell phone and ask him to call you,” she offered.
“No, it’s not urgent. I just had a couple of questions for him. It can wait,” I replied and we hung up.
I decided to go home early. I thought about Rose O’Ryan and the two paramedics. If I couldn’t get any leads from them on illegal activity by Meagher, it would be a short case.
Chapter 7
When I arrived at the office the next morning, Sam invited me into his office for breakfast donuts. Despite being a quirky eater, Sam loved donuts and pastries. I dumped my jacket and messenger bag in my office, grabbed some coffee, and hurried back to his office.
Casual Sam had returned. Today, he wore a gray chambray shirt tucked into black jeans. He had rolled his shirtsleeves up to the bend of his elbows. Flip stood next to the desk, his eyes locked on Sam’s donut.
Sam slid a coaster across the desk and I put my coffee mug on it.
“Flip’s back!” I said going over to the dog and scratching his head and back. After sniffing my hands for any food, Flip returned his attention to Sam.
I laughed and selected a chocolate-covered eclair from the white bakery box on Sam’s desk. Then I sat in my favorite guest chair.
“So how long did you and Adrian talk?” I asked, biting into the pastry. Sam’s face reddened and he shook his head.
“I didn’t get home until 9:00 p.m. We talked our way through lunch and dinner. Adrian has a thousand stories.”
“Sounds like fun. How was Flip when you got home?”
Sam grinned. “Great! When he heard the front door open, he came running. It’s nice to be greeted like that. But I’m sure he slept on the couch for a while because the throw pillows were all squished.” Sam’s eyes slid to Flip who whined.
I laughed. “You’re lucky he didn’t eat them.”
“I think you’re right,” he agreed and gave Flip a small piece of a plain donut.
There was silence as the three of us focused on eating. Then Sam and I chatted briefly about my plan to call Matt Durand.