by Kira Reese
“I visited Vickie Goff today. I couldn’t tell if she was telling me the truth or not about not knowing anything about John’s business. One thing is for sure: she isn’t grieving over his death, but she explained that to me.” Sharon told me details of the loveless Goff marriage. “It isn’t surprising Vickie continues to carry on her affair with Sean Scholten.”
“That part doesn’t surprise me, either. What was her response when you asked about the missing brooch from your mother’s burial?”
“At first she appeared to be trying to figure that out, as well. Then she jumped forward in her chair and accused me of accusing the mortuary employees of misconduct. I was taken aback but shouldn’t have been surprised. That was what I was doing, after all.”
“Have you heard back from the police yet?”
“I saw Officer Checkers in the local coffee shop, and when we were outside I asked him about it. He told me they were going to make a visit to Goff and Sons later this afternoon. I have not talked with him or any other officer since, and no one has called me. He said that was all he could tell me.”
“If you get news like that, don’t pass it on to anyone except me at this point. I wonder how Vickie reacted to that interrogation.”
We both had comments on it, but since neither knew facts, we dropped the subject. Ending the call, I heard Nick pull in. When sacks rattled with contents, I knew he had concocted a dinner in his mind for us and stopped for ingredients on his way home. His love of grilling was an addiction I didn’t mind. I couldn’t wait to taste what he cooked. We worked together in the kitchen for a while, and then he told me to bring salads out to the bistro table on our patio when he was ready. In the meantime, I sipped wine while watching him do his thing on the grill.
“Maybe this weekend would be a good time to ask Scotty to come over for a dinner,” I said.
Scotty Pershing was our elderly neighbor. He was an unobtrusive neighbor, and, age eighty something years, he still maintained his lawn, ignoring arthritic hands and shoulders. He was pleasant, and though family visited him, they lived out of town. He was close to them all but Nick and I discussed how he must be lonely at times since his wife had passed away.
“That’s a good idea,” said Nick. “Let’s make it Thursday night. I have late meetings the next two nights. We are getting ready to put together a packet on a large apartment building downtown. Investors are lining up, we hope.”
We talked about how our careers were becoming more stable as the years went by. Our neighborhood was an older well-kept one. Many of the retirees had moved away, except for Scotty. Now a younger set moved in and the neighborhood boosted in renovations where needed. Nick was thirty-two, and I had just reached my twenty-ninth birthday. We met several neighbors our ages who were located on our street a few years after we found our home. The neighborhood was a safe one, and we both loved the large trees that lined the streets. In spite of our successes, we had no intentions of moving elsewhere.
Nick’s cell phone rang. His eyebrows furrowed. He answered crisply as if on a business call. When he finished the call, he turned to me.
“That was Steven. He insists we need to personally go up to see our potential investors this weekend. He told me one called and invited three of the realtors on the project to spend the weekend at their estate.”
My eyes held steady. I did not want him to know how disappointed I was. We looked forward to weekends to unwind together, but I knew this project was important to Nick. “This project won’t last forever,” I said. “Maybe I’ll go back up to Sand Ridge. I’m anxious to see what has transpired over the case of the murdered mortician, anyway.”
He leaned over and kissed me long and hard. We made up for missed weekends that night, and I slept soundly.
During the next day I thought about Sharon. I had a text from her that said she planned to return to Vickie Goff for more probing. I hurriedly texted back and told her again to be careful. Then I told her I would call her that night. She sent her answer back, telling me she wished I was there doing the probing. I would call her later to tell her my plans to come back up.
I went to the front of the office to meet a young woman who sat in the reception area. She nervously thumbed through a magazine. It was an outdated magazine having to do with race cars. I made a mental note to have Evelyn go through our magazines and send outdated ones to recycling.
Evelyn introduced me to Anna Watson. When I had Anna in my office I tried to put her at ease and asked her to tell me about herself.
“I’m here with a problem,” she said, “but if you want to know everything about me, I have no problem with that.” She had not lifted her eyes to meet mine.
“We can talk about your problem first if that is best for you. Why are you here?”
Anna began telling me the story of her teenage son who was accused of stealing from gift shops.
“They are shops owned by individuals and not staffed like big stores. Danny is accused of stealing on his way home from school. It can’t be him, but two other boys swore at the precinct that Danny was the one who stole while the other two terrorized the store owners.”
“Why can’t it be Danny?” I asked.
“He takes violin lessons after school. He is fifteen and does not drive yet. I pick him up from school three days a week and take him. Later I come back and pick him up after lessons.” Anna twisted a tissue she pulled from the box on the corner of my desk. “The day of the robberies I asked his father to take him. I was late getting off work. His father and I are divorced but have joint custody. His father was late getting to the school, and Danny caught a ride with a friend who can drive. He doesn’t want many of the kids to know he is taking violin lessons.”
“Did he make it to the lesson?”
Anna sniffed loudly and then reached for a new tissue. This time she used it. “His teacher told me he showed up late. The lesson lasts two hours. He got there in time to finish the last half hour only.”
“Tell me the name of the friend who gave him the ride. We will do some preliminary investigations and then will call you to tell you what we found. At that point, you can decide to hire me or not. Is that fair?”
She nodded. I handed her a notepad and asked her to write down her name, address, and phone number. I told her to list her ex-husband’s information, as well, and the friend who had given her son a ride. “I want to know the names of the two boys being held on charges of terrorizing the shop owners, too. Where is Danny now?”
“All three are being held. I’m sure the cops are going to ask the merchants to pick the boys out in a lineup. They will have to let Danny go since no one will point to him.”
I told her to take one thing at a time. “In the meantime, talk with the violin teacher again to make sure of the exact times of Danny’s arrival and departure from her home.” After Anna left, I called Natalie and Evelyn into my office and gave them details of Anna’s visit. I knew my associate and receptionist were both overloaded right now.
“I’m thinking of hiring a part-time helper for you, Evelyn. I think it would be good if you could start doing some of the initial calls needed on the new cases. After today, I do not plan to take on more cases until we take care of ones we have.”
“The Blanchard case is almost wrapped up,” said Natalie. “I will have more time to help you on the Planter case soon.”
Evelyn’s eyes shone at the prospects of moving up a little in my company. She had a sixteen-year-old son of her own, and I felt Anna’s case was one Evelyn had some imminent experience with. Not that her son was ever in serious trouble, but she may understand that age level better for starters on the case.
I then called Lisa, my friend at the unemployment office. Lisa could be counted on to send me employees with excellent potential, such as the two she had sent me already.
Chapter 5
Vandalism
Sharon Mayes grew angrier by the day when she thought about the stolen brooch from her mother before burial. She was deter
mined to get to the bottom of it. Delighted that Candy was coming up for the second weekend in a row, Sharon wanted more than ever to have more information for her private investigator friend. She knew Candy was very interested in the case, and if she hired her outright, things would move along much faster. Convincing the already busy investigator proved to be another matter.
Sharon decided to appear unannounced for the second time at Goff and Sons Mortuary. Word was around town that John Goff’s former partner, Randall Hunt, was on call for funerals as needed. Randall retained his license and also assisted at a nearby mortuary in Schroeppel. Other than reverting to his old career, he spent his time as an historical researcher in the main library. He was balding, and his light brown hair was tinged with subtle grey streaks. No one knew the real reason why he left John Goff. Many comments and opinions were voiced around town, but both men had remained mute on the subject.
When Sharon entered the reception area, Catherine looked up. She pushed her speckled glasses down onto her nose and asked if she could help her. Once again, Sharon asked to speak with Vickie.
“I believe Vickie likes appointments, unless it is an emergency.”
“Then let’s call this an emergency,” said Sharon. She was in her role of taking over an important meeting with no nonsense allowed.
Catherine stood and walked to the nearby door across the narrow hall. When she opened it, Sharon noted a gaunt-looking man standing there talking to the dark brown-haired woman she knew as Vickie Goff. She didn’t miss the frown that spread across Vickie’s face when she turned to look at Sharon. She closed the door behind Catherine, who returned with a message.
“She will see you in a few minutes. We have a funeral coming up in a few days. She is making arrangements with Randall Hunt.”
Sharon had seen Randall on occasion in the past but was shocked at his aged frame. She nodded to Catherine and then sat down to wait. While pretending to read the article on feeling younger in two weeks, she instead formed her questions for Vickie Goff. For someone who did not know of the funeral business, she seemed to spend a lot of time in the office that once belonged to her husband.
Randall Hunt greeted Sharon briefly when he left Vickie. He went into the recesses of the mortuary and Vickie emerged. She walked briskly and told Sharon she did not have a lot of time.
Once seated across from each other, Sharon spoke first. “Have you found out how my mother’s jewelry ended up in an antique shop?”
“The police have been here asking the same questions. I’ve told you and them that I have no idea how that happened. It is in the hands of the police now, and I have nothing else to say to you on the matter. Now if you will excuse me, I have a bereaved family waiting for me.”
When Sharon got into her car she rested her arms on the steering wheel. She was in that position long enough to see an SUV pull up a short distance away. It parked against the back entrance to the funeral home. Sean Scholten got out and went inside.
“So that is the bereaved family,” Sharon said aloud. She waited another half hour, which paid off for her. Vickie and Sean emerged and got into the vehicle. He sped off and Sharon followed from a short distance. On the outskirts of town, the SUV turned onto a gravel road. Sharon noted it was River Bend Road. There were no other cars visible, and thoughts of caution from Candy flitted through her mind. She ignored them and drove forward. When she saw them park a mile ahead on the road she pulled into the shade provided by large trees that dipped almost to the ground. Vickie and Sean took hands and went into the woods. After fifteen minutes or so, they returned. Sharon saw Vickie laugh and pull a torn yellow tape from her shoulder.
Sickened by the thought of the two of them having sex in the same place her husband had been murdered, Sharon didn’t even think to turn around quickly and head back to town. She and Vickie locked eyes, and only then did Sharon speed around in the gravel. She heard small stones spitting from under her tires, and she did not slow down until she got to the city limits again. Looking in her rearview mirror, the SUV was nowhere to be seen.
After her discovery, Sharon had the impression that Vickie had followed her. At the very least, she was in her line of vision when the chance arrived. Candy would be arriving in twenty-four hours. Sharon decided to let Detective McMillan know what she had observed. Getting out of her car in the side parking lot of the precinct, someone bumped her as she reached for her purse. When she looked up, Sean Scholten gave her a piercing look. He stood for a few seconds to send his silent message. Sharon’s body weakened. She fumbled for her purse and slammed her car door. Sharon felt she would be protected by the department and meant to find out what was really going on at the mortuary. She ignored his staring eyes on her back and purposefully marched into the precinct.
When she returned to her car, all four tires had been slashed. This called for another visit inside, where she reported the incident.
“Don’t worry. We’ll find out who did it. We have cameras on that side of the building,” said Officer Sam Checkers. “In the meantime, you may want to call your insurance company and someone to tow your car in for new tires.”
He had sat in on her report to his boss. Sharon did not mention seeing anyone before she came in. Officer Checkers noticed her hands shook when she signed her second report but assumed she was just nervous about being there.
“Did either person you reported see you out on that road?” he asked.
Sharon nodded her head. “I stayed too long. I was so shocked at their actions, I must have just frozen during the moments that counted.”
Upon later examination of the film, Sean Scholten was seen quickly slashing all four tires. A few yards away, an unknown female sat in his SUV. She was silhouetted in the film, and so they were unable to identify her. Nonetheless, Officer Checkers had a good idea who the woman was.
After a few hours of dealing with her car, Sharon finally arrived home in time to meet her best friend as she parked in her driveway.
***
I felt Sharon’s hug tighter than usual. When she pulled away from me I could tell something had happened. I set my overnight bag in my assigned bedroom and joined her on the deck. Two glasses of wine waited and I took the first sip.
“What’s going on with you?” I asked.
When Sharon finished her story I didn’t tell her why I so often told her to be careful. It was not the time for that. Besides, I was sure she knew that much by now.
“I think Vickie and Sean murdered John,” she said. “I’m sure of it. Having sex where the body was found proves it.”
I let her vent her reasons, none of which proved they killed Vickie’s husband. “So far, there is nothing to pin the actual murder on them,” I said. “They did mock the tragedy with their actions, but have the police found any reason to charge them with murder?”
Sharon shook her head. “I know proof of the actual crime is necessary. You are right, and that is why I need you here.”
It was time to remind Sharon of my connection with Detective Ben Jones. I told her we worked together on cases sometimes, and that I had shared news of the happenings in Sand Ridge with him.
“He knew of the crime. He is a very good friend of Detective Bruce McMillan. They graduated together from the police academy years ago and have remained close friends. I asked if he knew details of John Goff’s murder.” I paused to let this sink in with Sharon. “I planned to talk with you about it all. He made me swear you to secrecy. There are facts about the case that only the police know about.”
Sharon’s eyes opened wide. “I promise I won’t breathe a word of anything you tell me. I promise you.”
I believed her. It wouldn’t be the first secret between us that we would take to our graves.
“Pour more wine and I’ll tell you everything I got from Ben,” I said. She obliged and I began. “Not only was John Goff stabbed to death, but there was also a handgun next to his body. One shot had been fired, but no shots into the body.”
“That’s str
ange,” said Sharon. “What was the purpose of that?”
“That’s part of the whole mystery,” I said. “They are running ballistics on it and will track down who owns the gun. It may take a while, but according to Ben, they are being very thorough.”
Sharon shook her head. “I can’t think of anyone I know who even owns a gun.”
“Just remember that the gun could be a stolen one, too,” I said.
Chapter 6
Unexpected Death
The next morning we were awakened by an insistent knock on the door. I heard Sharon muttering as she shuffled along the hallway. I went to my bedroom door and watched as she swung the door open to greet the same neighbor who had brought us the news of John Goff’s murder.
“I’m really sorry to bother you,” said the woman. She glanced at her watch, and I knew she wondered why we were still in bed at nine in the morning. Sharon did not answer her. “Vickie Goff was found dead this morning,” she said.
I walked barefoot to the door and stood next to Sharon. “What happened?” asked Sharon.
“She was found dead in the basement of the mortuary around four this morning. She was stabbed to death, just like John.”
The woman watched and then looked beyond us as if expecting an invitation inside. Instead, Sharon thanked her for letting us know the news and closed the door. She leaned against it and stared at me. Both of us eliminated John Goff’s suspect from our list. I put on coffee and went to get my robe.
“I wonder who is doing this,” said Sharon.
“I want details of who found her and why that person was in the basement early on a Saturday morning,” I said.
“I suppose it could have been funeral business,” said Sharon. She opened her hands wide and said, “I have no idea what goes on in the basement of a mortuary, do you?”
“I try not to think that much in depth when it comes to bodies and mortuaries,” I said.
We drank our coffee in silence for a while. Sharon asked if I wanted a bagel and I nodded. She brought out cream cheese and a dish of blueberries and one of strawberries. Both fruits were smashed to a creamy stage, and I picked up the small knife to prepare my breakfast.