Murder Book

by Weber, Frank F. ;

  I considered how much I was like my schizophrenic brother. I was losing a relationship with a real person to an obsessive thought. It was delusional. It wasn’t about forgiveness. Serena hadn’t done anything that warranted forgiveness. It felt so petulant, but I couldn’t let go of the idea of Clay’s hands having been on her. Any conversation I had with Serena at this moment would be painful for her, and if seeing me would only bring pain, she’d eventually leave me. I needed to resolve this before I spoke to her, if I wanted to have a future with her.

  Chapter

  Eighteen

  SERENA BELL

  7:45 A.M.

  TUESDAY APRIL 8

  MINNEAPOLIS

  I DIDN’T GET A LOT of sleep last night. When I did fall asleep, I had nightmares, so I looked like hell. To compensate, I tried to dress especially nice for work, in a mid-length black skirt and matching jacket.

  Jon had amazing problem-solving skills, but his logic could paint him into a corner, where he was trapped until he found a fresh perspective. I loved to problem solve with him. I just needed to create an opportunity to talk with him. I heard a vehicle near the farm last night. Had he come to talk to me and then turned back?

  It was a cool morning, but there wasn’t much of a wind. As I walked to the Fairview office, I took in the landscaping. I’d walked by it every workday, giving it little consideration. When I approached the door, I noticed some of the rocks in the flower bed were still wet with dew, revealing their true rose quartz color. The dry rocks looked as colorless as the sidewalk. I immediately understood what Victor had said to me on our walk: “You can only see Mandy when it rains.” The colors of the rocks became vibrant when they were wet. Victor had walked me to a rock pile, and when I told him I didn’t see anything, he said, “That’s my point.” Was it possible that Mandy was in that rock pile? I felt queasy. Reporting this could be the final straw that would break my already strained relationship with Jon. If I was right, Mandy’s death fell on either Victor or me. Jon’s family would be furious with me, but I couldn’t think about that. This time, I needed to do the right thing, and right away.

  AFTER TRYING TO CONTACT Jon again, without success, I left work and drove to Little Falls. I sat at the government center, waiting for him to return.

  Tony Shileto found me sitting outside the investigation center office and invited me in. Tony could be very intimidating. He told me Jon had shared with him that I was the last one with Mandy Baker. After answering his questions, it didn’t take long before I revealed my theory about the rocks to him. It all happened so fast, I felt like I hadn’t had a moment to think. By the time I left, I was wearing a wire, on my way to engage in a conversation with Victor. The trick was that I needed to have the conversation outside. While Bill and Camille still owned the home, the land it sat on had been lost in bankruptcy. Tony would receive permission from the land owner to record a conversation on his property, which meant he could put his plan in place without a search warrant.

  I was jittery with nerves when I approached Bill and Camille’s farmhouse. The deputies assured me this was the right thing to do, but I knew I was betraying people who had cared for me—people who’d opened their home to me. I kept telling myself Tony was someone Jon trusted. Tony had told me if I called Jon, he would surely interfere, and that would cost him his job. And I knew he was right. I steeled myself and rang the doorbell.

  Camille greeted me warmly and hugged me. Her red sweatshirt had smears of orange paint on the sleeves. She explained she was starting the trim work, so the task would go quicker when the two of us painted together. Her smile froze in place and left her eyes as I told her I needed to speak to Victor. I remained outside.

  Bill stepped out to join me, followed by Camille. There was sadness and resignation in his eyes, which made me realize he knew what I was there for. In his worn, blue flannel shirt and patched jeans, he looked old and tired. The wrinkles around his eyes, which most times reflected well-earned happiness, now simply aged him. He asked, “Is this about the rock pile?”

  I was a bit taken aback, but he had just made it a little easier for me. “Yeah, it is.” I could feel Camille’s eyes begging me not to say another word, but I continued. “I think Victor was trying to show me where Mandy Baker’s buried.” I felt sick to my stomach.

  “I guess I should be surprised Victor kept it quiet for ten years.” There was an honest despair in Bill’s voice that broke my heart. “After we lost the farm to bankruptcy, I agreed to stay on and care for the fields for the new owner. I couldn’t leave. To protect my family, I had accepted the role of sexton for one teen body, for the rest of my life. When I saw Victor walk you toward the rock pile, I had a sinking feeling he had found someone he felt he could trust.” Bill opened the door and yelled into the house, “Victor!”

  Camille stepped inside to find her son.

  I silently prayed, Bill, please stop talking to me. I wanted to tear the wire off and run away.

  Camille and Victor soon joined us outside, and the four of us walked toward the rock piles. We were led by Victor, in his white bomber hat and a thick, white, fur-lined parka. Camille had obviously chastised Victor about telling me about Mandy, as he avoided eye contact with me. I didn’t want Bill to say anything further so I stared at the ground, ignoring him. We silently marched along through the brown, lifeless brush, like death row inmates headed to the gallows. I couldn’t help but think Tony and his officers could step in any time, now.

  Victor broke the silence, telling me, “You really shouldn’t throw stones at people who live in glass houses.”

  If I wasn’t feeling like Judas, it would have been a funny misinterpretation of the old saying, “People who live in glass houses shouldn’t cast stones.” But he was right. You shouldn’t throw stones at people who live in glass houses, either.

  Victor begrudgingly said to Bill, “I thought you said it was okay that I just buried her body.” He suddenly stopped in his tracks and nonchalantly asked me, “Are you wearing a wire?”

  My face suddenly felt on fire. I frantically nodded, trying to discourage anyone from saying anything further. Sirens howled from the squad cars, which had been hiding just out of sight, as they rushed into the farmyard. I tried to tell the Fredericks I was sorry, but I panicked and couldn’t get any words out.

  Victor started to run, but Bill was ready for it and after a few quick steps he dragged Victor to the ground from behind. Victor wildly flailed as he tried to escape. Bill yelled, “No! You can’t run, Victor. They’ll shoot you.”

  I wanted to help, but I was pretty sure my assistance wasn’t welcomed. In my anxious state, I felt paralyzed.

  Deputies were now running toward us.

  To my horror, Victor managed to escape Bill’s grasp by slipping out of his jacket. An officer pulled out his gun and aimed it at Victor. I yelled, “No!”

  After only two steps, a second officer shot Victor with a taser. His body convulsed as the current pulsated through him, and he fell to the ground. Saliva dripped from the side of his mouth, and he had wet himself.

  Camille ran to him, and when his seizures ended, she dropped to his side and started to smooth his hair off his forehead. She attempted to reassure him. “Just breathe. You’re going to be okay, Victor. Just breathe.”

  Roughly shoving Camille aside, an officer quickly pulled Victor’s arms behind his back and cuffed him. Victor’s eyes looked wild, and there was little doubt the shock had sent him into a psychotic state.

  Camille was shouting, “Victor, Victor!” but his mind was now in another place.

  I turned away, only to see an officer reading Bill Frederick his rights as he cuffed him.

  I stood in the midst of it all, seemingly invisible. This was not what I had imagined would happen. Tony had told me that, after Victor led us to the general location of the body, I would be guided away. In my mind, this was all going to occur in a calm and orderly manner. They had promised me a professional who specialized in working with mental
illness would intervene and work with Victor. That was obviously just said to placate me. Instead, Victor was cuffed and forcibly marched by two officers to a squad car.

  Trench coat flapping, Tony came running to the rock piles with two officers with water canisters strapped to their backs. Tony directed the officers to begin spraying the rocks in the first pile.

  As long as I was being ignored, I stepped closer to observe. I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary as the rocks revealed their colors, and I prayed to God I was wrong. I watched officers set some rocks to the side, to no avail. Tony finally told the officers to move to the second pile, and again, they started with similar results. Toward the side of the second pile, I anxiously watched as a line formed in the dark gray feldspar. An outline of a cross was revealed when they sprayed the entire area. One officer removed half a dozen rocks, peered down and yelled, “We have a body!”

  I turned to the farmyard to see Bill being pushed into the back of a squad car. Victor was staring blankly out of the back of another squad car’s window as it pulled away. Camille was completely distraught and being held back from the squad cars by a police officer. I asked into the wind, “Victor, what did you do?”

  JON PULLED INTO THE DRIVEWAY, so I ran to him to tell him what had transpired with his family.

  Jon was incredulous. “Why didn’t you call me?” he asked.

  “I tried to, but you weren’t returning my calls.” It sounded like a sorry excuse even to me, but Tony had insisted it would be better for Jon if I kept him out of it.

  “Really? Because my phone hasn’t buzzed for hours.” Betrayal was etched into Jon’s face.

  “I wanted to do the right thing this time,” I implored. “What can I do to help?”

  “I think you’ve done enough. What the hell, Serena? I wouldn’t have left Mandy’s body out here, not even to protect my family.”

  I cringed as he turned away from me, shaking his head. I reached for Jon, trying to get him to look at me. “I’ll pay Bill’s bail,” I offered. “I know they’re not going to release Victor, but they’ll release Bill, right?”

  “No. Absolutely don’t.”

  I sighed and pleaded, “Jon.”

  “If Victor’s in jail, we need Dad in jail, too. We need someone in there who can help Victor calm down. Just leave us alone.”

  “Call me.”

  Jon glared back with penetrating hatred. “Don’t you get it, Serena? If you would have called me, we could have brought this to the police. Instead, I look complicit in a cover-up. Victor’s going to be charged, Dad’s going to be charged for withholding evidence, and I’m going to lose my job. A dead girl was found on land I was living on when she went missing. I’m going to need to find a way to come up with some money for bail, and fast.”

  “I’m sorry.” It sounded weak.

  “Yeah, that doesn’t change anything.”

  And he was gone. Jon was right. He was going to lose his job. I should have seen that coming, but I was too overwhelmed to think clearly. I stood helpless in the driveway, debating if I should try to comfort Camille. I decided I should just leave. I had tried to handle things right this time, and it all blew up in my face. Defeated, I returned to my car.

  I needed to talk to Jon. I’d sit outside his apartment door and wait for him if I knew he was going home, but I doubted he’d go back there with everything happening here. He’d probably stay with Camille. But if I went there, Camille might tear me apart.

  I looked at my list of suspects. I decided to find out more about Randall and Whitey. Bill and Victor would be scrutinized enough by the investigators.

  Chapter

  Nineteen

  JON FREDERICK

  WEDNESDAY, APRIL 9

  MORRISON COUNTY

  The discovery of Mandy Baker’s body was big news, even though her disappearance hadn’t received any attention outside of Morrison County ten years ago. It was a nightmare. Victor was in a psychotic state, spending the day rocking back and forth in his cell, the picture of madness in orange jail attire. He was sweating like an addict going through withdrawal, with his stringy, dirty-blond hair now matted to his head. Each psychotic state took twice as long to recover from than the last, and required additional medication. More meds meant more side effects, like dry mouth, poor balance, and fatigue. Victor was charged with murder and, subsequently, would not be getting out of jail to see a psychiatrist. It had been arranged, however, for a psychiatrist to see Victor at the jail. Fortunately, Dad was there, and the guards were kindly letting him assist in calming his son down. This would only last for a few days before my father would be released. Dad was facing a charge for having concealed evidence.

  I had progressively become more obsessed with thinking Serena loved me the same as I loved her. I had to remind myself that, just because I felt something so intensely, didn’t mean normal people felt the same. The self-loathing that came with obsessive thinking was unbearable at moments like this. My insistence that Mandy’s case be reopened had hurt my family and broken my heart. But like all obsessive people, my solution was to amp up my obsessive behavior. I would focus on helping Victor.

  Fortunately, Morrison County had a history of offering bail, even in murder cases. They typically made the bail high enough where they believed the defendant wouldn’t be able to come up with it, however. I’d been told Victor’s bail would be set at one million dollars. I would have to come up with ten percent of this to get him released, standard for bail cases. Victor wasn’t resilient enough to endure the bullying he’d receive in jail, so I had to find the bail money.

  Dad and Mom were just surviving; they didn’t have any financial reserves. With cashing in the little I paid in so far in my 401k, taking out a loan on my car—which I had paid off—selling my couch, recliner, big screen TV, kitchen table and chair set, and utilizing the money I’d saved, I’d be able to come up with half of that amount. Unfortunately, my extended family was like most rural Catholic families, and had no financial resources. My generation was the first on my dad’s side to go to college. My mom’s side had some college-educated members of the clergy and Peace Corps workers, who, of course, had no money to assist. A person didn’t get rich helping poor people.

  WITH DAD AND VICTOR IN JAIL, I stayed with Mom again last night to help her maintain her sanity. After breakfast, I prepared for a meeting at the investigation center. My work as an investigator couldn’t be saved, but I wanted to make an argument for Victor’s innocence before I was terminated.

  I wore a white dress shirt, black tie, and black slacks, trying to look as professional as possible. I needed to convince the investigators to consider suspects other than Victor. My brother couldn’t defend himself, so I needed to, as I’d always done.

  Sean, Paula, Tony, and I sat around a table in the investigation center. I launched my defense even before Maurice arrived. “Victor didn’t kill Mandy Baker,” I began. “He has no history of aggressively acting out. He went for his usual night walk, found her dead body, and buried her. He thought it was the right thing to do. People are going to hear his story and say it’s crazy, but he is crazy. Victor isn’t violent—just mentally ill.”

  Sean sat back, tie hanging loose in an uncharacteristic state of disarray, and calmly asked, “Did you know about this?”

  “No. Believe me, if I’d have known Mandy’s body was there, I would have reported it. Mom just filled me in on what happened.” I had to be careful how I worded everything. Mom had indeed filled me in, and had given me much greater detail than I could reveal to my coworkers.

  Dad had sensed that something wasn’t right with Victor, so he immediately hired an attorney for him. He told investigators Victor was schizophrenic, and he was concerned Victor could unwittingly say something to implicate himself.

  Dad questioned Victor about that night from a variety of angles for months before he finally got Victor to disclose that he had found a teenage girl’s body and buried it. However, Victor couldn’t remember where
he had buried her body, and when Dad searched the farm, he found nothing. Dad wasn’t sure if he could believe Victor, and he didn’t want to get him arrested for one of his bizarre thoughts.

  Only years later, when Dad was out in the rain on the farm, that he noticed the cross formed by rocks on the rock pile. After finding Mandy’s body, Dad did some research and discovered that both of her parents were dead and she had no siblings. Dad assumed Mandy had frozen to death. He decided it was better to keep it quiet, both to keep Victor out of trouble and to avoid desecrating Mandy’s body. Victor had told Dad he carefully buried the girl, and then prayed over her. Dad thought Mandy wouldn’t get a more respectful burial elsewhere. It had to have crossed his mind that turning the body over to the authorities would have also made people more suspicious of me. My parents believed Victor was honest when he told them he never killed the girl, and they eventually allowed him to resume walking again. They made Victor swear never to talk to me about it, because they knew I’d report it. They thought they were safe, but Victor trusted Serena enough to tell her, and now Victor was looking at serious prison time.

  Paula looked comfortable in her usual sweatshirt and jeans. Her hair was somewhat mussed from being in the cold, windy weather earlier. She asked, “How did Mandy’s body get on your land?”

  I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.”

  Tony interjected, “Mandy had been just down the road at Serena Bell’s home. Serena was the last person who was with an alive Mandy Baker and, coincidentally, Serena has recently found her way back into Jon’s life. Serena knows a lot about psychology, Jon. Certainly enough to manipulate you. Vicki did.”