by John J. Lamb
Walter pulled on his earlobe and thought for a moment. “The only thing I can definitely remember is that she told him he wasn’t going to get away with it.”
“Did you recognize either of the voices?”
“No.”
“How long did they argue?”
“Maybe a minute or two.”
“And how did it end?”
“It just quit. It suddenly got quiet. She was yelling and I think he said something and then it was over.”
If I’m right, it was over in more ways than one, I thought. I asked, “Any idea of when this happened?”
“Oh, it had to have been some time around eleven—but that’d just be a guess.”
“Uh, sir?” A young bearded soldier in the rear rank raised his hand.
“Yes?”
“Uh, I think I can tell you exactly what time it happened.” The man sounded a little worried.
“Really? What’s your name?”
“Randall Bell.”
“And what was the exact time?”
“I’d just called my wife on my cell phone when the argument started. If we check the call history, it’ll tell us the time I made the call.”
Josh leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Uh-oh. Captain Pouncey doesn’t allow anything modern in our camp. Even the booze the boys drink has to be poured from the bottles into historically accurate ceramic jugs.”
Bell noticed Pouncey glaring at him and said to his commander, “I’m very sorry, sir. I realize that cell phones are forbidden out here, but you know I just got married last week and I wanted to call and tell Monica good night and . . . and that I loved her.”
I gaped at Bell in disbelief, the investigation momentarily forgotten. “Let me get this straight, you got married last weekend and you’ve been out here this weekend sleeping on the wet ground in tents with a bunch of guys in stinky woolen uniforms when you could have been in bed with your newlywed wife?”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
“You look young. Is this your first marriage?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you live with her before you got married?”
Bell got red-faced. “Of course not! We both vowed to wait until we got married before we, well, you know . . .”
“Yeah, I do know and, Mr. Bell, I truly don’t mean any offense but, no matter how much you like reenacting, you need your head examined.”
“That’s what Monica says,” Bell said quietly.
“Listen to her. She’s a smart woman. Now, getting back to the time, where is your phone?”
“In my knapsack in my tent.” Bell looked at Pouncey. “Permission to fall out and get my phone, sir?”
“At the double-quick!” Pouncey barked.
Bell jogged to his tent and returned a moment later with a wireless phone. I signaled him to come to me instead of returning to the ranks. He turned the phone on and began pushing buttons while squinting at the tiny screen. At last, he handed me the phone and said, “Here. Look.”
The screen showed a column of phone numbers with corresponding columns of dates and times. There was only one listing for September 30 and that was for a telephone call made to a local number at 11:09 p.m. That was almost an hour-and-a-half after the time Thayer had purportedly left the Ewell estate, never to be seen again.
“Thank you, Mr. Bell, and I expect at some point the State Police are going to want to take a look at your wireless phone bill, so you might want to keep it handy.”
“This is important?” Bell swallowed nervously.
“Very important. You heard what Walt had to say about the argument. Is that basically what you heard?”
“I didn’t even notice that much. All I heard was shouting, mostly by a woman. I was on the phone, so I wasn’t really paying attention to anything that was said.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“Fall in, Private Bell,” said Captain Pouncey.
As Bell returned to the troop formation, I resumed questioning the other four witnesses. All their statements were essentially the same. They’d heard an unidentified couple involved in a savage argument that had ended as quickly as it started. One of the soldiers thought the woman might have been crying, but he couldn’t swear to it, and another concurred with Walter. The woman had shouted out something to the man about not getting away with it.
And the fact that Robert Thayer was found strangled and floating in the Shenandoah River less than eight hours after that threat was delivered, clearly demonstrated that the woman—undoubtedly Meredith Audett—had been absolutely correct. He hadn’t gotten away with it. But now I had to find out precisely what “it” was.
Chapter 19
Thanking the reenactors for their time and cooperation, I limped back toward the truck. Pouncey dismissed the troops and as they broke ranks, Josh caught up with me. He said, “I’ll stop by your house later tonight and drop off a list of those six guys and their phone numbers.”
“Thanks. If we’re not home, just go in through the back door and put the sheet on the table.”
“Why wouldn’t you be home?”
“I’ve still got several people to interview today.”
“Including Holcombe and his son?” He gave me a sidelong and suspicious look. “Is Ash going with you?”
“You know your sister. If she wants to come, do you think I could actually prevent her?”
“Well, you could tell her ‘no.’ ”
We looked at each other for a moment and then both of us exploded into laughter. Catching my breath, I said, “I can’t believe you said that with a straight face. But, I really don’t want you to worry. I’m not going to do anything to endanger her.”
“If you say so, Brad. Still, please be careful,” he said as we shook hands.
I climbed into the truck and drove back across the farm to Kilday Road. Less than ten minutes later, I turned onto our driveway and as the house came into view I saw an unoccupied sheriff’s patrol car parked near the house. I felt a tiny prick of fear and tried to reassure myself that it was Tina’s cruiser, because the only other option was that Holcombe hadn’t been able to rein in his son and that Trent had come to eliminate us as a problem. Then I relaxed as the front door opened and Ash, Tina, and Kitch came out of the house.
Ash gave me a hug. “Hi honey, I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me too, even if it is only for a few minutes.” I gave her a kiss on the forehead and then glanced at Tina. “So, how did the wild-goose chase go?”
“Fine. In fact, it was kind of fun. First, I drove up to the ski area on Massanutten Mountain and then over to the Island Ford Bridge where I stopped and pretended to look for evidence.”
“Was Trent following you?”
“Not at first, but he picked me up when I came down from the mountain. He kept his distance though. I think I scared him.”
“I guess he’s not as stupid as he looks.”
“Then, about twenty-five minutes ago he just took off, so that must have been when you ran into Holcombe at the Ewell estate.”
“Fortunately, Trent’s still lucid enough to follow his daddy’s instructions, although we can’t continue to count on that.”
Ash knew how much my leg was hurting and she guided me toward the picnic table. “So, where did you go after you finished with Ewell?”
“Over to interview Josh and the other Massanutten Rangers.” I settled onto the bench and sighed with relief. Kitch sat down and rested his damp chin on my knee. Scratching his head, I continued, “Yesterday I overheard a couple of reenactors talking about an argument between a man and a woman they’d heard on Friday night. I didn’t mention it because it didn’t seem significant at the time.”
“And the reenactors have their camp at Pouncey’s farm, which is next to the Ewell estate.” Ash sat down beside me.
“Right. It turns out that six—count ’em, six—witnesses heard this donnybrook at eleven-oh-nine p.m., which contradicts the story I’d just gotten from Ewell’s live-in phy
sical therapist.”
Tina made a capital T with her hands. “Time out. You’re saying that Trent isn’t the murder suspect?”
“Unfortunately not, and Thayer’s death probably had nothing to do with the theft of the Mourning Bear—which, by the way, Trent probably took.”
“Then who killed him?”
“I strongly suspect it was Meredith Audett—the physical therapist I just mentioned.”
“Why?” both women demanded simultaneously.
“I don’t have time to tell you the entire story, so briefly, there’s evidence of a sexual relationship between Thayer and Meredith, although she claims to have despised him. Also, from a purely physical standpoint, she’s big and muscular enough to have committed the crime.”
“You said that she lied,” said Ash.
“They were lies of omission. She and Liz Ewell—who’s a real gem of a human being, by the way—said that Thayer left the house with the bear at about nine-forty p.m. en route to Poole’s place. However, Meredith neglected to mention that she became involved in a loud argument with a man ninety minutes or so later.”
“But how do you know it was Thayer?” asked Tina.
“It had to be. For starters, unless you have a key to the gate, you have to call the house on an intercom to get into the estate. Neither Ewell nor Meredith said anything about any visitors coming to the house later that evening, so that means the man in the argument was someone who had access to the property.”
“So, what else did Meredith lie about?” said Ash.
“Ewell told me that Thayer didn’t have a current girlfriend. Meredith didn’t disagree. That was another lie by omission, although I didn’t realize it at the time. Yet when I searched the guesthouse where he lived, I saw long brown hairs on the bed pillow and in the shower.”
“And he was bald,” Tina said.
“Correct, and Meredith’s hair is the same color and about the same length. And, the place was clean, so the hairs had been left recently.”
Tina rubbed her chin. “So maybe they were in a romantic relationship. It still doesn’t prove she killed him. What’s the motive?”
“Rage. Early on, Meredith told me that Thayer was a con artist and she wasn’t lying when she said that. I think he probably tricked her into his bed and she, like so many nice women, thought she was going to rehabilitate the bad boy. Maybe when Trent robbed Thayer, he told him to get out of town.”
“And he went back to the estate and told her that whatever they had was over,” Tina finished the scenario for me and I thought I heard a distant echo of pain in her voice, as if I’d just provoked some ugly memories.
“Do you think Liz Ewell knows?” Ash asked.
“There’s no way of telling. She didn’t give any indication that she was aware of the relationship or the argument, but that doesn’t mean anything. That old woman’s got more dark layers than a freaking chocolate torte.”
Tina finally emerged from her brief reverie. “So, what do we do?”
“Leave Meredith alone for now. She isn’t going anywhere and we need to know the entire story before we reinterview her. And we’re going to need an arrest warrant and a search warrant when we go back.”
“I’ve written a few search warrants for burglary and dope cases, but never one for a homicide.”
“The affidavit format isn’t really much different. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you’ll just be including a larger list of items that you hope to find during the search. I’ll be happy to help you with that, but you’ve got some much bigger issues to consider right now. For instance, are you prepared for what’s going to happen when you arrest Holcombe and Trent?”
“I think so.”
“You know as well as I do that this level of corruption is never really a secret. You can take it to the bank that your Commonwealth’s Attorney knew what was going on, as did the county board of supervisors. Some of them may have even directly profited from it and they’re going to be terrified that the Holcombes are going to roll—”
“And cut a deal to tell everything they know. I realize that I’m going to be under a lot of pressure to cover everything up.”
I locked eyes with her. “Exactly. The bottom line is that you are going to be the ranking law enforcement officer in the county that’s on duty and not under arrest—you are going to be the interim sheriff for at least a couple of hours. Are you ready for that?”
Tina didn’t look away. “Absolutely.”
“Good. Then you can count on Ash and me to stand by you and do everything we can.”
Ash nodded vigorously and reached over to squeeze Tina’s hand. “I’m so proud of you. You’ll do fine.”
“And not that I’m trying to run the show, but have you given any thought to calling in some backup? I’m assuming there are at least a few honest cops in the county.”
“Most of the deputies are honest,” Tina said in a slightly brittle tone, and I instantly realized that I’d touched a nerve by insulting the entire Sheriff’s Department rather than just the Holcombes. “I’ve already thought of two or three guys to call in, but I’m not going to do that until Holcombe and Trent are in custody. That way we’ll avoid an argument over whether I’m issuing legal orders.”
“Good idea and I’m sorry if you took that last comment as a slam.”
Tina looked down at the tabletop. “No, it’s me that should be apologizing. You have every right to be suspicious of the department, but I’m going to do my best to change that.”
“We know you will,” said Ash.
“I agree. So, let’s decide on our plan of action. I strongly believe our next move should be to go and interview Pastor Poole.”
“Why Poole? I mean, I understand he lied about knowing Thayer, but how is he connected with everything else?” Tina asked.
“Ewell told me that Poole was on the organizing committee for the charity auction and that he and Thayer were going to transport the Mourning Bear into Harrisonburg on Friday night. Based on the facts that Poole didn’t raise the alarm when Thayer was a no-show and Lorraine Cleland was at his church the following morning, we know that something was up.”
Ash was the first to comprehend what I was suggesting and she blanched a little. “Then, Pastor Marc had contacted Lorraine before the auction and she was there at the church to pick up the bear. Oh my God . . . he never planned to take the bear to Harrisonburg. He and Thayer were going to sell it directly to her.”
“Or something like that. I’m not going to pretend I understand all the details, but there was some very important reason he didn’t want Ewell to know what happened to Thayer. The thing that threw the monkey wrench into the works was Trent’s deciding to play Jesse James.”
“And the only reason Trent would steal the bear was if someone told him it was valuable,” Tina added. “And the only way he could know that is if Thayer told him at the time of the robbery—”
“Exactly, and if Thayer didn’t know who the buyer was, then the Holcombes would have had to contact Poole to let him know they had the bear now and that the deal was still on—but with a few minor revisions.”
“Such as Poole’s cut going from fifty percent down to a three-way split.”
“If it was even that generous,” I said with a bitter laugh.
“So, what you’re saying is that the Holcombes and Poole got together and sold the Mourning Bear to Lorraine Cleland.” Ash’s eyes were brilliant with anger. “And you know what? It probably happened earlier today. That would explain why she was late and then so distant with me when she got here. She must have been told that we were investigating.”
“That scenario fits the facts best, honey.”
“What a bunch of scheming monsters. When are you going to talk to Pastor Marc?”
“Just as soon as we have a game plan. Why?”
“Because I’m coming with you. I want to give that creep a piece of my mind.”
“Absolutely you’re coming with me, but you’ll have to wait until the end of our chat with the good reverend to blast him.”
“Why is that?”
“Because, with your permission of course, I’m going to use you as a twist. Your presence will motivate him to talk and tell me all sorts of wonderful lies that I can later use to ram down his throat and eventually get to the truth.”
“How will me being there do that?”
“Honey, I know you don’t believe me, but Poole’s got a serious case of the hots for you and he won’t be able to help himself. He’ll be compelled to show you that he’s a super genius and in order to do that, he has to show off as he outwits me.”
Ash looked doubtful. “Brad darling, I’ve told you this before: I’m certain Pastor Poole just thinks of me as an old friend.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Tina laughed in disbelief. “Everybody in town knows that Poole has done nothing but talk about you since you came back. And he was probably the one that started the rumor . . .”
“What rumor?” Ash demanded.
“That . . . well, maybe this isn’t the time.”
“What rumor?”
“Okay, but I want you to understand I never believed it. The story is that, once when Brad was at a doctor’s appointment over in Harrisonburg, you invited Poole over to visit, but that he told you no because it wouldn’t be right.”
“Oh, really?” Ash’s eyes enlarged to the size of Ping-Pong balls and her hands curled into fists. Then she turned to me. “Brad, I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you and I promise I’ll maintain my composure in the interview with that rotten dirt-bag as long as you think it’s necessary. But after that . . .”
I took her hand. “After that, he’s yours to abuse. Now, let’s get back to our action plan. Once we finish interviewing Elmer Gantry we’ll go over and interrogate the Holcombes and that brings us to a problem.”
“What’s that?” asked Tina.
“We need to lock Holcombe and Trent into statements that they can’t deny later, which means secretly recording the conversation.”
“Can we do that?”