by John J. Lamb
“At some point on Sunday you finally decided to sell the bear. Can you tell me about that?”
“Yes, I thought about it all day Saturday and decided to go ahead with the deal. Our portion of the proceeds would have been over one-hundred-and-twenty-thousand dollars. It was simply too much money to turn my back on.”
“And so you met here in town a little while ago with Cleland and Poole.”
“She gave me the cashier’s check and I gave her the bear.”
“I’m assuming the check is here. Can I have it?”
“It’s in the drawer.”
I should have been prepared for what happened next, but even if I’d known, there was nothing I could have done about it. There was a desk between us and it all happened far too fast. Holcombe turned in his swivel chair and bent slightly as if to open the top desk drawer, but at the last second his hand shifted to his pistol. The gun was out of his holster in a nanosecond and pointed directly at Trent’s head. Trent’s mouth flew open in shock and he sat back rigidly in the chair.
“Son, I’m going to kill you in a second, but I want the pleasure of telling you why before we both die. I raised you right and your momma and I loved you, yet you turned out to be the biggest piece of gutter trash in the county. You’re a hoodlum, a drug addict, a liar, and a coward. But I do have some good news,” said Holcombe, mimicking an old car-insurance television commercial. “Your life is insured for two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollars.”
“Daddy, don’t do this. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll do better.”
Holcombe continued as if he hadn’t heard, “Now, there won’t be a payout for me since it’ll be a suicide, but they’ll have to pay off on your policy because you’ll have been murdered. At least your momma won’t be left penniless.”
“Sheriff, don’t kill him,” I said, trying to move crabwise in front of Ash. “If you do this, Pauline will never understand and she’ll be left alone. She needs you alive.”
“Even if I am alive, I won’t be there to help her. I’ll be in prison.”
“Maybe.” My mind was racing, trying to think of some way to minimize the gravity of the charges against him. I continued, “But maybe the charges you’re facing aren’t that serious.”
Holcombe looked at me, but kept the pistol pointed at Trent. “You mind if I call you Brad?”
“Not at all.”
“Well Brad, don’t piss down my back and tell me it’s rain.”
“I’m not. Just think for a second before you do this. Okay, so you collected graft from a bunch of crooks. How many of them do you think are actually going to come forward and sign a criminal complaint against you? They’d have to get up on the stand and incriminate themselves. That isn’t going to happen.”
“Maybe, but I’m also an accessory after the fact to murder.”
“No, you’re not. Pay close attention, Sheriff. If Trent didn’t kill Thayer, you can’t be an accessory after the fact. At worst, you covered up an armed robbery and a misdemeanor assault, because Thayer wasn’t injured by his fall into the river.”
“And I engaged in a criminal conspiracy to sell stolen property.” Holcombe turned his attention back to Trent. “Son, if I were you, I’d keep that hand right where it is or I will open your head up like a ripe melon.”
“Sheriff, listen. Those are first-time offenses, you’ve got mitigating circumstances, and you’ve cooperated fully. Once the story of why you did all this comes out—that it was done because you love your wife and some soulless HMO screwed you guys—the Commonwealth’s Attorney will recommend probation,” I said and paused to take a deep breath. “But most of all, don’t do it because it’s wrong. Pauline would expect better of you.”
Holcombe was silent for a moment and I could see his eyes were moist. Finally, he said, “I’ll keep him covered. Get his gun because he told me before you came in that he wasn’t going to jail and he’d kill anyone that tried to arrest him. Be careful.”
“Thanks, Sheriff. I will be.”
I edged up to Trent and leaned over to take his pistol from the holster. There was a feral look in his eyes and at the last moment he made a grab for the gun. I struck Trent with my cane right between his running lights, but it was like hitting that hundred-year-old oak in our yard. It bounced off, opened a bloody gash on his brow, but otherwise had no effect. Trent and I wrestled for possession of the gun, but he was bigger, stronger, and younger and I was quickly losing the struggle. I saw Ash jump on Trent’s back and try to choke him, meanwhile Holcombe tried to get a clear shot at his son without hitting one of us. I shouted at Ash to run for it, but she ignored me.
Trent finally wrenched the pistol from my grasp and I tried to grab his hand. As I fought, my mind flashed back to that first moment when Ash had slipped her hand into mine and I felt a terrible sadness that this was how our lives were going to end. I hoped that if there were an afterlife, we’d be there together. I heard the sound of a shot and was surprised to find us both still alive.
Then I saw Tina and Sergei in the office. Tina had her pistol in hand while Sergei was armed with an AR-15 assault rifle. Both weapons were pointed at Trent and I saw a hole in the wall behind him where one of them had fired a warning shot.
Tina said, “Drop the gun, Trent. You’re under arrest.”
Trent gave a sideways glance in Ash’s direction and I knew he was weighing the odds of taking her hostage. I began to wish I hadn’t been so hasty in preventing Holcombe from offing his son. The guy was like a shark—almost no brains and an excess of killer instinct.
Sergei looked down the barrel of the rifle and said, “If you so much as look at that lady again, it will be my pleasure to shoot you in such a way that you’ll wish I’d killed you. Be a good boy and put the gun down.”
A couple of seconds passed—but believe me, it seemed like a lot longer—and then Trent sighed and slowly placed the gun on the desk. After that, Tina ordered him to lay face down on the floor. The fight seemed to have gone out of him. He meekly complied and was immediately hand-cuffed.
A moment later, Ash and I were hugging each other tightly, and after I made sure that she was all right, I demanded, “Why didn’t you run when I told you to?”
“And leave you here alone fighting that psycho? Brad honey, I could no more do that than stop breathing.”
“Hey, you’re the best partner I’ve ever had . . . and the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.” I leaned over to give her a peck on the cheek.
“Well, I certainly hope so,” said Ash.
Another deputy appeared in the doorway and Tina pointed at Trent, “Get him out of here and into the jail. Oh, and leave his uniform on for now. The other inmates will enjoy that.”
The cop pulled Trent to his feet and hustled him out the door. Meanwhile, I noticed that Holcombe had also put his pistol on the desk and was now taking his leather gun belt off.
Holcombe looked at Tina and said, “I’m assuming you’re the interim sheriff. Good. You’ll do a fine job. I can find my way back to the detention facility.”
“Mr. Holcombe, I can’t see any point in booking you into jail right now. Your wife needs you at home, and considering everything you’ve done to help us this afternoon, I’m very confident you won’t flee this jurisdiction.” Tina reached out to gently touch his arm. “Go take care of Pauline.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.”
Once Holcombe was gone, I said, “That was really classy, Tina.”
“Thank you. It just seemed like the right thing to do.”
“Yeah, and as long as you’ve brought up the subject of doing the right thing, I thought I told you not to charge in here if things went to hell in a handbasket.”
“You did, but Sergei and I decided that it would be way too boring around here if you went and got yourself killed.”
Chapter 23
Going to Holcombe’s desk, I opened the top drawer and found an unsealed business-size envelope that bore the logo of the Massanutten Crest Lodge where Cleland was staying. I lo
oked inside the envelope and saw a cashier’s check in her name for 170,000 dollars and made out to the Remmelkemp Mill Apostolic Assembly.
“The check?” Tina asked.
“Yeah, and although we’ve got confessions from nearly all the principals, you still might want to consider having the crime lab process it with ninhydrin for latent fingerprints.” I handed her the envelope.
“Just in case somebody wants to change their story later?”
“It’s been known to happen. So, you don’t need an unofficial investigative team anymore, Tina—sorry, I mean, Sheriff Barron.”
“Stop that.”
“So, would you like Ash and me to go home, and can we resume our lives as mild-mannered artisan teddy bear makers?”
“You fraud. What would you do if I actually said, ‘Yes, go home’? ”
“Have a temper-tantrum and hold my breath until I turned blue. I want to finish this case.”
“I know and I need you to finish it. You guys are the only ones that can. I’m going to be stuck here for a while because I have to call the State Police, get the Commonwealth’s Attorney in here, and go over and arrest Poole.” Tina shook her head in frustration. “Where are you going next?”
“Back to Chez Ewell to reinterview Meredith Audett and see if we can get her to cop to murdering Thayer. But whether she does or not, you’re going to need an arrest warrant to take her out of the house and a search warrant for the evidence in the guesthouse.”
“See? Two more things to add to the list,” said Tina.
“So, if we’re going to talk to Meredith, should I keep this body mike on?” Ash asked.
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”
“Good, because this is uncomfortable.” Ash reached behind her and I heard the sound of tape being pulled from flesh. After that, she slipped her hand under her blouse and pulled the wire antenna lose.
“I’d have done that for you,” I said earnestly.
“Brad, you have a one-track mind.” She handed the transmitter to Sergei, gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and said, “Thank you for everything, Sergei.”
“You’re welcome, and please,” he shot me an impish look, “try to keep him out of trouble.”
Ten minutes later we’d arrived at the Ewell estate, and I was relieved to see that the gate was still open. I drove up the driveway and parked in front of the castle. I used that absurd-looking knocker and Meredith opened the door after a brief delay. She wore a baggy pair of black sweatpants, an oversized white tee-shirt with an athletic shoe’s company logo on the left breast, black workout gloves, and her hair was gathered up and banded in a lime green scrunchy. It was obvious that we’d interrupted her in the midst of an exercise session in the home gymnasium.
“Oh, Mr. Lyon, this is a surprise.” She had a small white towel in her left hand and she wiped at her brow, concealing her eyes.
“No, it isn’t, Meredith. I think you know exactly why we’ve come.”
“Is this your wife?”
“Yes, this is Ashleigh and she’s been investigating Robert’s murder too. Can we come in?”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” She slung the towel around the back of her neck and glanced nervously back toward the stairway.
“Fine, we can talk out here then.”
“Talk about what?”
“Meredith, we know what happened to Robert. We even think we know why it happened, but we’d like to hear it from you.”
“I haven’t done anything and I think you’d better go.” She began to push the door shut.
There often comes a point in an investigation when it’s necessary for a ruse and a truly skilled homicide inspector can bluff like a Mississippi riverboat gambler. I said, “We’re not guessing—we know. Your fingerprints were on Thayer’s truck’s rearview mirror.”
The door stopped moving.
Ash said gently, “Meredith, please listen. Sometimes a good person is so hurt and betrayed that she just snaps and does something awful. What did Robert do to you?”
Meredith tried to keep her face emotionless, but her lower lip began to quiver. A glistening tear appeared beneath her left eye and she swiped at it savagely with one of the towel ends. “He said he loved me.”
“And he lied. Some men do that to get what they want.”
“I’m not the sort of woman that just jumps into bed with a man. I loved him. For four months I believed all his promises about how we’d get married and not have to sneak around anymore.” More tears were running down her cheeks and she leaned her head against the doorjamb.
Realizing that Ash had attained an empathetic connection with Meredith, I kept my mouth shut and paid attention.
Ash reached out to take Meredith’s hand. “And you were devastated when you found out that you didn’t mean anything to him.”
“Oh, God . . . I felt so hurt and dirty and humiliated and . . . used.”
“And finally, so enraged you were out of control.”
Meredith sniffled and nodded.
“And this happened on Friday night, didn’t it?”
“Yes.” She took a deep ragged breath and seemed to recover some of her composure. “When Robert left with the Mourning Bear, he told me he probably wasn’t going to get back until very late and suggested I sneak into his room early the next morning before Miss Ewell woke up. No ‘I love you,’ no ‘I’m gonna miss you,’ just a suggestion that I come to his place and service him when he decided to come home.”
“That must have made you feel cheap.”
“It did. I got angry, so I decided to work the energy off in the exercise room.”
“When did Robert get back?”
“Sometime around eleven—maybe a little after. I was working on some stretching and flexibility exercises when I heard his truck pull up to the guesthouse.”
“What happened then?”
“I couldn’t figure out why he was home so early, so I went outside. I thought . . .”
“Maybe he’d come back to see you?”
“Yes. Stupid, huh? Anyway, I’d been working with one of those elastic tension bands with the plastic handles on both ends and I had it when I went out there. Robert was sopping wet and had just put something in his truck. I asked him where he was going and he told me he was leaving.”
“Did he say why?”
“Yes. He told me that Trent had pulled him over near the Island Ford Bridge and fired his gun at the truck and stolen the teddy bear. I asked him how he’d gotten wet and he said that Trent had thrown him into the river.”
“What happened when you realized that he was leaving without you?” Ash’s tone was sympathetic.
“I asked him what was going to happen to us. He got this annoyed and surprised look and shouted that it was time I got a f-ing clue—there never was an ‘us.’ I’d been a convenient lay and nothing more. I started to cry and begged him to stay.” Meredith’s eyes began welling up with fresh tears.
“But he refused.”
“I tried to hug him and he knocked my arms away and when I tried to grab him again, he slapped me. Right here.” Meredith touched a spot on her left temple. “Robert didn’t hit me hard enough to leave a mark, but that didn’t make any difference. I was suddenly so furious, so angry over being used and then thrown away like a gum wrapper or something, that I just exploded.”
Ash waited for a second before saying, “I know this is hard for you, but what happened next?”
“I looked down and realized I had that elastic tension cord in my hand. Robert had just turned his back on me to go into the guesthouse and I . . .” She faltered for a moment, and when she resumed speaking, her voice was flat with detachment. “I looped the band over his head and around his neck and began tightening it just as hard as I could. He jerked and struggled and tried to scream but couldn’t. He just sort of gurgled. One part of me knew I was killing him, but I was so crazy with anger that—God forgive me—I didn’t want to stop.”
Ash’s eyes were moist and I realized that listening to Meredith’s tale of humiliation and the graphic description of the murder had taken a huge emotional toll. I caught her eye and glanced in Meredith’s direction, silently asking if she wanted me to take over. She nodded.
I said, “Meredith, would you mind if I asked a few questions?’
She nodded and continued to hold Ash’s hand.
“What did you do after Robert was dead?”
“I, uh—that part is actually a little hazy. I just sat on the cement next to his body for a long time. I couldn’t believe what I’d done.”
“But at some point you came up with the idea of putting him in the bed of his truck and driving him over to the river, right?”
“Yes. I couldn’t let anyone find him here.”
“Why did you go to the Henshaw farm?”
“I didn’t know who owned the property. I just knew the place because Robert and I had been there a couple of times.”
“And did you throw him into the river because you were hoping to shift suspicion onto Trent?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. All I can remember was thinking that I had to get rid of him because if I didn’t he’d go right on hurting me.” Meredith gazed at me with fatigued eyes. “Does that make any sense?”
“Yes, it does.”
“So, what happens to me now?”
“You’ve got a choice, Meredith. You can either wait here for the sheriff to arrive with an arrest warrant charging you with murder or go in voluntarily and surrender yourself. I won’t kid you, neither option is pleasant, but cooperating will work out better for you in the long run.” I jerked my head in the direction of the Xterra. “We’d be happy to drive you to the Sheriff’s Office and you can sit down with her and—”
“Her?”
“That’s right, Holcombe is no longer sheriff and Trent’s in jail for the robbery and trying to kill us. Tina Barron’s the sheriff, at least for now.”
Meredith looked at Ash. “What do you think I should do?”
“I think you should come with us. It’s time to be brave and face what you’ve done.”
“I know. Thank you, Mrs. Lyon.”