Bridgette was the type of driver who felt speed limits were more like guidelines, and the radio blared where ever she went. Just last week she told Jack and Frank, “Billy Idol is my co-pilot” as Rebel Yell blared from the Gremlin’s speakers. The car was a piece of crap, but she had a top-notch stereo system. The only time she turned the radio off when she was driving was when she was nervous.
It took over two hours to reach the top of the pass, snowing falling even heavier and thicker than it had earlier. As the wheels transferred from gravel to dirt, Jack looked at his wrist watch that started to blink.
“It’s 12:00,” said Jack, his voice bereft of emotion.
“Merry Christmas. Let’s get everyone inside.”
Moira was still in the kitchen waiting impatiently by the phone, desperate for some news. News stations from Danville had aired footage of the bridge on channel 7’s 11:00 news broadcast, and Moira could do nothing but stare at the television set, screaming in anger. When the kitchen door burst open at two minutes past midnight, she had to contain herself from breaking into hysterics.
Jack carried Catherine, still wrapped in a blanket, into the kitchen. Bridgette tightly grasped Cole and Natalie, desperate to get them in from the cold. Moira caught sight of the children, and her panic began to rise.
“Are they Maria and Joe’s children?!” she asked nervously.
“Yes. They were involved in the bridge accident. We couldn’t find Maria or Joe, though. Oh, Mom, it was horrible!” exclaimed Bridgette. Moira didn’t know what to say so she hugged her daughter tightly, before Bridgette broke free.
Bridgette pleaded, “Please look after them, I have to help Catherine. Try to get a hold of Joe, Maria, or maybe Maria’s mother, Rita. Let them know that the children are safe.”
Moira stood there with the children in her arms as she watched her daughter run wide-eyed down the hallway to the den where Catherine was struggling through another bout of labor pains.
Jack watched his wife’s face as she went through the motions. Though she had done this many times before, she was still frightened. Still on edge. This time there was no hospital staff, no epidural, and no operating room should something go wrong. Just an aging doctor and a nurse fresh out of school.
He watched as Catherine began to pray, her lips moving swiftly, quietly, as she beckoned to St. Anne, patron saint of laboring mothers. She immediately led into the “Mother of Mercy” prayer, asking for grace and protection and for that protection to extend to her unborn child. As the words escaped from her mouth, her body seemed to relax. A calm had enveloped her. Jack hoped it would last the night. Little did he know, she would be dead by morning.
Chapter Nine
The Shake-Up
Elkhart, PA
October 8, 1997
Late Morning
Jenna DiNolfo slammed the trunk door of her ’93 Skylark as she trained her eyes to the dim sky above. Taking in the scenery around the Elkhart Police Station, she shifted uneasily with an anxious uncertainty. Elkhart was definitely going to be a huge change from the stressful, overcrowded streets of Pittsburgh. Set deep in the wilderness of Central Pennsylvania, a tiny shack of a police station waited for Sergeant DiNolfo as she prepared to take on her new post. She was eager to leave the chaos that existed in Pittsburgh and longed for a slower work pace. When she found the job posting in the newspaper, she knew what kind of situation she would be walking into – an all-boys club who would likely not give her the respect that she wanted or deserved. With great consideration, DiNolfo took the job under the pretense that if she could handle business in the big city, she should have no trouble at all in quiet little Elkhart.
Preparing herself for her grand entrance, DiNolfo grabbed her file box off the car trunk and made her way to lobby of the Elkhart Police Station. As Jenna walked into the police station she noted that the word lobby should be used very loosely, as the station was no more than one large room with a handful of empty prisoner cells in the back and a file room in the basement. No waiting room, no offices for the high-ranking brass, not even an investigation room.
Welcome to Elkhart, Sergeant DiNolfo.
The officer behind the desk was a bored-looking middle aged man whose attention was devoted to the funny pages that lay sprawled across his desk. Clearly, business was not booming in Elkhart. DiNolfo cleared her throat in an attempt to get the officer’s attention. The officer looked up over his wide-rimmed glasses to greet the visitor and was surprised by her professional appearance. Jenna greeted the officer warmly, “Good Morning. Sergeant DiNolfo reporting for duty.”
"Oh, welcome,” the officer replied unenthusiastically. “Lemme see if Chuck is here."
"Hey Chuck!” the officer called into the back room behind the counter. “A Sergeant DiNolfo is here for you?" The officer turned back to Jenna and advised, "He'll be right out."
Jenna raised her eyebrow, his demeanor was not what she expected. Lieutenant Charles Reagan emerged from the back room.
"Nice to finally meet you in person, Sarge. You’re Larry's kid, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir. I am," replied Jenna, surprised that someone from the force remembered her father. Larry DiNolfo had worked for the Elkhart force some twenty-five years ago before retiring and moving out to Pittsburgh.
"Okay then, I'll show you around, although, I'm afraid you might find our set-up a bit primitive in comparison to what you are used to working with," said Chuck with a tinge of embarrassment.
Modestly, Jenna replied, "No, I will be just fine here."
Lieutenant Reagan led Sergeant DiNolfo to an old oak desk, with a golden name plate that beared her name.
"Here is your desk. I’m afraid we don't have much as far as supplies," said the Lieutenant apologetically. With a smirk, Jenna reached into her messenger bag and removed her gray laptop, and said, "Really, I should be good."
"Okay, then. Criminal records are stored in the basement. You will have to get the key from Earl. He was down there this morning. We keep it locked for security measures," explained Chuck.
"Earl?"
"One of our two deputies. Earl Buckley is one, and Amos Cope is the other. George Ainsley is our corporal, and we have a police force of twelve officers."
"Twelve, you say?"
"Twelve."
Taken aback by the acute amount of officers assigned to Elkhart, it took Jenna a minute to get accustomed to the idea.
"Okay. I think first up on my agenda is to round up the key to the file room and I can start from there."
“That should keep you busy for a while. These guys haven't cracked a file in years."
"I thought you said Deputy Buckley was down there this morning…"
"Honestly, I think he smokes down there. He told his wife he quit, so he doesn't want to get caught smoking outside."
"Seriously? Smoking in a room with critical police data and case files?"
"If you can rein them in, I'd be grateful. Honestly, I shouldn't say this, but our last sergeant left abruptly after getting into a heated dispute with Earl."
"I don't scare easily. And I never back down from a fight," DiNolfo assured him with a broad smile.
"You have your father's moxie. I like that. Great to have you on board!" said Chuck, as he shook Jenna's hand firmly.
Jenna placed her laptop in the desk drawer and locked it before walking towards the side door of the tiny police station. Before exiting, she grabbed a set of car keys off of a hook by the door, with a tag on the key ring that read E2.
Jenna began to survey the district from High Street to Fox Hollow and everywhere in between along Cavegat Pass. While passing down Caribou Road she spotted car E5, Earl's car. She got out and approached the vehicle in which she found the deputy reading a newspaper. She knocked on the side of his car with her nightstick.
Tap, tap. "I'd like to introduce myself."
Taken aback by her sudden presence, Earl reached out for her hand, but stayed in the car, showing a lack of respect for his new sergea
nt.
"I'm not here to make pleasantries. I'm actually here to collect the keys to the file room."
Surprise visible on his face, Earl looked at Jenna with a smirk.
"I don't have them. Maybe Chuck does."
"No, you have them. From what I hear you are the only one who goes down there." She had him pinned.
Earl sighed. "Oh, right. I forgot to put them up on the peg. Here."
Earl reached his right hand to his belt loop and took the file room keys off his key chain. He held them out for Jenna to grasp. Jenna took the keys and paused, maintaining eye contact with Earl.
"Don't lie to me again, and we won't have a problem. I am your senior officer and you will respect me."
Jenna turned on her boot heel and returned to her car. Meanwhile in E5, Earl picked up his brick of a cell phone, "Hey, Amos! DiNolfo's kid is in town, and she's a real piece of work..."
* * *
Jenna decided that it would be the neighborly thing to do to introduce herself to some of the locals. Although she grew up here in the Elkhart area, right over in Pritchard’s Alley, she did not know many of the faces after being gone for twenty years. She decided to start in the Mud Flats and work her way up Cavegat Pass. She introduced herself warmly at Kerr’s Grocer, Angie's Beauty Salon, and the always busy Four Horses Saloon. The owner of Monte’s was very kind and offered her free coffee and lunch. A face that she certainly recognized, Joe Piedmonte yelled from the kitchen, “Hey! DiNolfo! Great to see you! I haven’t seen you since our high school days! Whenever you stop by, your tab is on me! All the free coffee and grub you can eat!” Joe’s offer was one that Jenna would certainly take him up on. Though they had never officially dated, Joe did take her to her Junior Prom. She remembered him as a really nice guy.
Some things never change.
Jenna was having a great morning when she pulled up to Trafford’s Auto Body, but that was all about to change. She parked on the side of the building away from the parking lot, an old habit from investigating in the big city - never be seen. DiNolfo stepped out of her patrol car as she took in her surroundings. Trafford’s Auto Body was a dingy, run-down shop that had definitely seen better days. She opened the splintering green door with a push, as a bell sounded over the doorway.
The moment she stepped inside a gruff voice riddled with lung cancer and a lifetime of smoking cigarettes addressed her, “We're closed!”
“Sign says you're open.”
From the back of the auto shop's office came a large balding man who was wiping grease off of his hands on a soiled, rag that used to be white but was now a putrid shade of brown.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, much more polite after seeing who was in his waiting room.
“Are you Trafford? My name is Jenna DiNolfo, and I am the new sergeant. I'm just stopping in to introduce myself to all the local businesses, make my presence known.”
Jenna held out her hand for a handshake, but put it away when Trafford didn’t offer his hand.
“Nice to meet you. If there are no pressing matters, I must attend to my business,” Trafford said to Jenna, clearly not in the mood to make pleasantries. From behind Jenna the bell over the door sounded again.
“Hey, Trafford! You got my money?” an annoyed voice demanded.
Jenna turned surprised to see an officer in uniform, and turned quickly on her heel. She was face to face with Amos.
“What money are you referring to, Deputy Cope?” Jenna asked, with a charge of authority in her voice.
“Nothing. It’s nothing. Trafford owes me for… a service.”
“A service? You wouldn't be doing side jobs that the county would want to know about, would you?” Jenna turned towards the door to leave, and as she looked back at Amos, she warned, “I have my eye on you.”
Finally back at the station, Jenna settled into her desk and booted up her laptop, the key to the file room still in her hand. While her computer slowly came to life, Jenna made her way to the file room in the basement. Entering the key in the lock, she twisted her key, but it was for naught; the file room door was left unlocked.
You've got to be kidding me, Jenna thought incredulously. So any old Tom, Dick, or Harry can have access to confidential case files! Not on my watch.
Jenna opened the door and locked it swiftly behind her. Turning around, she couldn't believe her eyes. Files everywhere, cigarette butts lying on top of pertinent county paperwork, complete disorganization. The whole file room smelled of smoke. Disregarding the smell, Jenna began looking at the shelves of files. While some were in file cabinets, most were not. Her work was certainly cut out for her.
She immediately began sorting through files, alphabetizing them and placing them in their appropriate places, and overall, returning order to the Elkhart Police Stations' file room. Files weren't all she found, though; packs of cigarettes, old magazines, and a dart board. Clearly Earl did more than just smoke down here.
DiNolfo decided that anyone who wanted access to the file room would have to come through her. She took the last box of files that needed to be sorted to the gray filing cabinet on the far right side of the room. She tugged on the silver handle, but was met with resistance. It was locked. She crouched down to get a closer look at the cabinet, thinking maybe she could pry the lock open, and that is when she saw it. The tag on the filing cabinet read, “Unresolved Cases '79-84.”
Why, she wondered, would that be locked, when current files remained opened and scattered about carelessly?
Jenna was convinced that something remained hidden inside, and she was determined to find out what it was. Jenna ran up the dusty flight of steps that looked as if they hadn't been swept in ages, and made a beeline for the supply closet. Earl and Amos, who were now back at the station, sat lazily at their desks. As DiNolfo raced across the linoleum floor, Amos tracked her steps like a hawk. He threw a crumpled-up piece of paper at Earl, who was nearly asleep, causing him to fall backwards in his chair with a thud.
“What are you looking for?” asked Amos.
DiNolfo smirked at the officer, “I'm cracking open some unresolved cases, boys!”
Amos eyed DiNolfo nervously, a few select words on his tongue that would be a one-way ticket to the unemployment office. Finally, DiNolfo emerged from the supply cabinet with a box of paper clips and departed down the basement steps again. The door to the file room closed and locked with a bang.
Amos, looking at Earl with wide eyes, furrowed brow, and a miserable scowl, whispered furiously, “We have a real problem, here! Did you remove them like I told you to?!”
“No, I didn't get a chance to, with all that happened at Trafford's this morning.”
“We're screwed. She is gonna find out, and were going to the slammer!” Amos moaned.
“Get a hold of yourself! You really think she is going to look through all of those files?” asked Earl.
“You heard her, 'cracking open some unresolved cases.’ It was the only filing cabinet that was locked!”
Meanwhile in the file room, Jenna was on her knees inserting an uncoiled paper clip into the lock of the filing cabinet, gracefully coercing the lock to open. With a click, the lock opened, and the top drawer followed after. Jenna began sifting through the neat files, extracting each and putting them in a file box to be transported to her desk for review. Picking up the file box, she grabbed her keys off of the filing cabinet, and locked the file room up tight.
Jenna dropped the file box on her desk next to her frozen laptop and began pulling files out and browsing through each. Jenna had success solving cold cases in Pittsburgh during her downtime. She often found that the problem was a lack of evidence or laziness on behalf of the original investigator. There was always someone who seemed most likely to be the perpetrator, but there was not enough evidence to damn him.
Jenna pulled up the first file out of the box. It was labeled Eliza Dunning, Case # 2046281. The file was remarkably thick. The second file she pulled out, labeled Raymond Kiefer, Case
# 1984512, was another incredibly thick file for being a cold case. This was a red flag for Jenna. The third she pulled out, belonging to a Tiffany O’Mara, a lighter case file, but still remarkably thick for a case file.
With the careless precedent of the file room, the missing keys, the disrespectful officers, and the incident at Trafford's Auto Body, Jenna knew she would have to look into these files thoroughly. She picked up the fourth file, labeled in a messy scrawl, Catherine Morrow, Case # 2054186, the file took up almost half the box. She glanced inside the file and there were fingerprint records, a death certificate, pages upon pages of testimony, a print-out of a life insurance policy, photographs of the dead and the crime scene. Surely there had to be enough information here to implicate someone!
She set the files to the side as she opened a spreadsheet application on her computer. Maybe if she could perform her own investigation, using the data provided in the file, she could crack these cases, along with the question as to why they were locked away in the first place, instead of being sent to archives in Harrisburg.
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