by Kieran York
Emma’s head tipped. “Yeah, well I have nothing to tell you about the case.”
“Do you remember seeing Luther Sumner in here?”
“A couple times. He was usually looking for my father. He creeps me out. I mean, he isn’t bad looking, but something about him is off.” She smirked, “Not my taste in men. I may like my men naughty, but not deranged. Like evil.” She gave a dramatic shudder. “He ignores me completely.” With a sniff, she added, “His loss.”
Luther Sumner’s appearance had indeed gone from the youthful look of a model, to someone who had been harassed, and taken apart in the prison system. He wasn’t put back together properly. There were missing pieces, and he had grown older than his years. Age that normally might have given him a rough and tumble image had only made him look hardened.
“I understand,” Royce commented. Even years ago when the women of Timber City were throwing themselves at him, Royce was repulsed by him. Now it was a stronger repulsion. “If he tries to contact anyone in the family, could you let me know?”
“Will do, Sheriff. Do you want my mother to call you?”
“No. I was just stopping by. Please tell her that we’re going to solve this murder.” Suddenly Royce saw a flicker of concern in Emma’s eyes. “I promise.”
When Royce stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the store, she patted her leg. Chance jumped up quickly, and followed her. Royce’s thoughts were tumbling. When she had looked through the files on her father’s murder, she had found a torn piece of his uniform. There was blood on it. It was tucked in a plastic evidence bag. There were spots of her father’s blood on the fabric. Because it was evidence, she didn’t take it out. But she wanted to touch it – to feel a part of her father left behind. She had touched the plastic bag with reverence.
Tears formed in her eyes. She placed her sunglasses over her blue eyes. She would finish making her rounds, and then she would begin her ‘to do’ list. Days were busier when a murder was inflicted upon Timber City.
***
Only a few steps past the doors of the Eagle Inn, Royce saw Luther Sumner’s image in the pane of glass that reached several feet across the front. He was on his way out. She whirled around to face him. The rapid movement alerted Chance. The dog gave a guttural warning growl.
“Got a damned unfriendly dog, Sheriff,” Luther tauntingly spoke.
“Halt, Chance,” Royce issued her command. “Luther, meet our K-9 unit. Chance is tough on perps. And she is a very good judge of character.”
“You should have named her Risky. She’s taking a risk when she comes for me.”
“Luther, I know you want out of this town. This town wants rid of you. But you’re staying put.” There was an edge to the sheriff’s statement.
“Haven’t you heard of presumed innocence?” His shoulders were thrust back, he stood tall with his legs spread, and a satisfied smile covered his face.
Placing her hands on her hips, near her gun holster belt, she began listing reasons. “We’ve got a felon. This felon is not supposed to be in a bar. He is, several times. He is in a gun shop. He shouldn’t be. And he is there immediately before a crime is committed. The felon also threatens the sheriff, and now Deputy Chance. I think that’s probable cause to insist that felon not leave this county. I think it’s cause enough to do a flipping brain surgery exploratory to see how a career criminal’s mind works.”
“Sheriff, my attorney will be in touch. He’d love to do battle with this crappy little town.”
“Bring him on. When we lock you for the list I just mentioned, you’re going to need him and his associates. And by the way, if you ever again threaten me, or Deputy Chance, you are going to be locked. Anything happens to me, or this dog, and you become the prime suspect before you can even remember your lawyer’s name. Got it?”
Smirking, Luther looked back at Chance. “You and Risky stay safe, Sheriff.”
She stood firmly in front of him. He purposely walked slowly around her. It was a strut more than steps. But she couldn’t arrest him for evil intent.
“Come on, Chance,” she called to her K-9 deputy.
***
The remainder of the afternoon was filled with various assistance calls. There were a couple traffic violations, and a skirmish over a bill at one of the small curio shops. Finally, after half an hour of checking the afternoon reports, Royce left the office and went to the locker room area. There was a larger section that was divided by a partition. One side were the lockers of male deputies, and the other was for Royce and Terry. While Royce changed from her beige uniform, into her denims and t-shirts, she heard chatter from the adjoining side as a few of the deputies got ready for a shift change.
Royce smiled when she heard one of the deputies speak, purposely loud enough for her to listen in. He teased, “Nice part of having women on the force is that they’re both great looking in their uniforms.” He hesitated a moment before adding, “And they’re smarter than we are.”
Royce chuckled loudly. She shook her head. “Nice redeemer line. You fellas aren’t too bad either, and you’re right. We are much smarter,” she teasingly responded. “Have a safe tour tonight, Deputies. And remember we’ve got a killer out there. Take care of yourselves and your partners.”
“Thanks, Sheriff,” they said in unison. She could hear them disburse.
Royce thought about the great fortune of having deputies in both Timber, and up in Crystal, that were great enforcers. The team was cohesive, and supportive. She and Undersheriff Nick Hogan had trained most of them. Perhaps, she considered, that was the best thing she did while serving as the county sheriff.
Although it was a small mountain team of enforcers, Royce had always insisted that they keep their edge. That included fitness, keeping up with weapon training, as well as law enforcement regulations.
She liked to think of each of them as perhaps being the next sheriff or undersheriff. So she wanted them to display the best they had to give.
That reminded her that she hadn’t been to Crystal for her gym workout for a couple days. She would attempt to make time for it tomorrow after work. Nick had used one portion of the small satellite sheriff’s office in Crystal for a gym. Royce rallied for the cause, hoping that all the deputies would take advantage. She required them to do a workout at least a couple times a week. Although it would be sufficient, she hoped they’d visit the gym even more.
Chance had been resting at the doorway. “I’m ready, Chance. Let’s roll.” The dog followed, tail wagging, as they made their way to her vehicle.
The evening was becoming dark. The hours drained sunlight more rapidly when there was a major crime. Royce suddenly heard footsteps coming from across the parking lot. She turned quickly to see Plato.
“I hope I didn’t frighten you,” he said. “I didn’t see you around much today.”
“Thankfully, Chance recognized you. So we’re both safe. What have you got?” She hesitated and then joked, “Besides a hankering for a little whiskey?”
“I could use me a drink or two. Look, that guy Luther was braggin’ about how he was gonna get his attorney here and bring a lawsuit against this city.”
“He’s all bluster. He’s upset because I insisted he not leave. He’s a prime suspect in a murder case. He’s not going anywhere. If he does, he gets his parole revoked. He’s not that stupid. He’ll stay put.”
Plato frowned. “I don’t think he done Cal in. I think it was the family. Why would this stranger do it?” His lips pressed to a line.
Royce pulled a few bucks from her pocket and handed them to Plato. “I’m stuck when it comes to finding a motive. Maybe I want it to be Luther. He’s a bad actor. He may or may not be implicated.”
“I still say it was family.” He pressed his worn western hat back on his head. “Any of the family could a done it.”
“I think you’re right. That’s also my best guess. But I’m figuring Luther as an option. He is never far from trouble.” Reflectively, she rubbed her jaw
a moment. “Look Plato, if you’re going over to the Bell Ringer, keep your ears open for anything Faye might say about Luther. Faye and Luther’s brother were close. And I know Faye had seen Luther a few times.”
Plato grunted, “I listen. Hell, I’m the best C.I. you got.”
“Yep. You are the only C.I. I need.”
As she got into her black and white Interceptor, Royce considered Luther’s words. Luther wasn’t about to sue the county. He didn’t want a spotlight. But he was concerned enough to issue his boast and bluff routine. Royce patted Chance’s head. Of course behind that braggadocio she’d seen so many times before, she also knew he was as hazardous as anyone alive. Gran had called him a rattlesnake. That definition was an exact fit. Royce would make certain Chance was safe. Just as the guard dog instinct in Chance made certain of Royce’s security.
Chapter 10
News of the morning was what Royce called minimally important. It could take her in any direction.
Nita Wagner’s background checked out as Royce had expected. With one exception. The forty-year old socialite had more than one ex-husband. The husband prior to Calvin Wagner had died before she’d taken up with Calvin. There were two previous dives into the matrimony pool for Nita. Which meant that she had failed to mention her first two husbands. Upon a cursory data check, Royce found that they both had died before the marriages ended. Both were much older than Nita – so it was possible that they’d succumbed to natural causes.
Royce put calls in to find out those causes. Although they hadn’t been listed as murders, it did look suspiciously like Nita had come away with a great deal of cash. In all three marriages there had been prenuptial agreements that were in her best interest. Nita’s financial claims increased with each marriage. They were one-hundred thousand, a quarter of a million, and the last marriage not only had nearly half a million, but also showed she collected on an exceptionally rich insurance policy.
Royce planned to call on Nita soon.
In addition to that tidbit, CBI informed her that the Jane Doe case would be examined. Sped up – not so much. Aged evidence testing took its place at the end of the line. The Ice Age case was only of importance to Royce. Getting DNA results was difficult, even in the best of times. If the DNA was successful, it would still require searching a missing person’s databank for a hit.
First on the sheriff’s schedule was to check Timber City Times morgue. Gwen and Nadine had diligently saved the papers for over forty years. They had also made certain the earlier copies were preserved. History, Gwen maintained, is humanity’s road map.
“Royce,” Nadine greeted the sheriff. “You’ve been busy working the last couple days.”
“I’m working now. I want to go through your newspaper morgue. Forty years ago, when the body of Jane Doe was found.”
“I remember that.” Nadine led Royce back to the small storage room. She pointed out a stack of papers. “It will be in the top part. They found her body in the spring. I always felt badly about that because the woman was so young. She could have been in her late teens or early twenties. Too young to have lost her life.” As she spoke, Nadine’s facial features became downturned. “I’ve always thought dying in the spring time didn’t match up. Spring is the season when life begins. We know nothing about her.”
“My dad thought she was someone from these parts.”
“I highly doubt it. No one was missing. The best guess is someone from a larger city dumped the body. Well, that’s what sheriff at the time surmised. Grady was only a rookie. I recall Molly saying that your dad and the sheriff didn’t see eye to eye on much, but this was major as far as your dad believed. Although Grady didn’t object when the sheriff told him to stand away from that investigation. He did try to work the case on his own. To no avail.”
Royce swallowed. The conversation had reinforced her idea that she should always listen to the ideas the deputies had. They saw it from a different perspective. Perhaps the correct perspective. She sighed as she rummaged through the papers. When she came to the first news story about the murder, she separated the stack.
Gwen appeared. “Nadine, I brought you some tea. Royce would you like a cup?”
“No thanks.” Royce was interested in seeing the papers.
“Use the conference room. Lighting is better in there,” Gwen suggested.”
“Thanks.” Royce took an arm load of papers into the conference room. Gwen followed after her. “During the fire, being out in the area, it reminded me of when my dad took me there. I loved going with Dad. But he was always somber.”
Gwen pulled out a chair and joined Royce at the round oak table. “Grady completely believed he could solve the murder. But hell’s bells, how could you hope to solve a murder four decades ago when you have no name – nothing identifying her. Add to that, no one from around here was missing. I remember your dad searching nearby counties, and even national missing person’s databanks. He couldn’t find a thing.” Her gaze was unfocused. “There didn’t seem to be any leads for him to grasp onto.”
“He didn’t have all the detection tools available now. I’m using them. But I may not be able to find out any more than he did. Gwen, it’s so danged sad that there are murder victims with no names.” Royce paused. She watched Gwen’s face cover over with concern. “I know chances are slim of giving Jane Doe a name. And slimmer still of finding her killer.”
“I went through the same concerns when the body was found. I was angry. Grady and I talked about it. I finally let go of it, as well as my anger. I don’t think he really did. Your father was a tough lawman. But his heart was tender. Vulnerable. Royce, I know you’re like him. You’re doing this search for him. But also for you. Don’t hold on to it for too long.”
Royce turned another yellow-edged page. “I won’t.” She slouched with the concern of possible defeat.
“Look, I know you’re bogged down with the damn current case. You need to be in the moment because Luther is dangerous. I’m a whiz on internet searches. I’ll see what I can dig up. When I’m writing a front page story, I can always come up with missing particles of the scoop via the Internet.”
“Thanks, Gwen.”
Gwen took a sip of tea. “Are you sure I can’t get you something to drink?”
“I’m fine.”
Royce realized that Gwen was vying for a change of topic. “Royce, you seemed to have a good time the other night at dinner.”
“It was a delicious meal.”
“I felt tenseness between you and Hertha.”
“Gwen, I don’t want Hertha thinking I have an interest in her. I’m never again settling down.”
“This may shock you, but she isn’t interested in settling down either. She knows she’s got responsibilities. The fiasco with the professor was a major message to her. When there are children involved, a partner needs to take on a family, not just a lover. She certainly doesn’t have time in her life for romance. The pet hospital, the kids – there’s no time for you or anyone else in her life. What she’s doing has filled her existence to the brim. I talked with her today. She’s only interested in friendship.”
“That’s best.”
Gwen pushed her chair back and stood. “I have a theory. She’s adamant about not getting into an involvement. She couldn’t ever chance seeing you hurt twice. I doubt that she’ll ever get over that. She’s aware you’d never forgive her. Hell’s bells, she can’t even forgive herself.”
Gwen’s walk back to her office was rapid. It was what Royce interpreted to be a hasty retreat. Royce continued searching the old columns of newsprint. Much of the ink had faded, making it difficult to read.
***
“Are you the grieving committee?” Nita asked Royce. “Damned if you aren’t showing up every day, it seems.”
Royce gave a good-natured chuckle. “I have a couple more questions?”
“Shoot!” Nita immediately added, “Rather a bad choice of words, since I’m obviously a suspect in a shooting case.”
“I’m trying to exclude people as much as I’m trying to discover the killer. In your case, I’m a little confused about your background. This was your fourth marriage?”
“I never mention my first marriages. People get the wrong idea. I don’t want anyone thinking that I’m some kind of a black widow.”
“You won’t mind answering questions about them?”
Without reluctance, Nita answered, “Not at all.” She scribbled names down on a sheet of ranch stationary. When she handed the paper to Royce she said, “The first name was my first husband. He died in a car crash. I was with him and I went through the windshield. Pertinent facts. That was when I first underwent plastic surgery. I went from being a plain little mousy thing to becoming a movie star look alike. Well, I was going for something with great bone structure. I later got a boob job.”
Embarrassed, Royce gazed down at the floor. “That would exclude you from having set up a crash that killed your husband.”
“I was much younger than all my husbands. I always liked older men. No motive. In the car crash I could have been killed. The life insurance was nothing, and I burned through it with cosmetic surgery. My next two husbands were also both much older than I was. They died from cancer. I met them both when I was a receptionist at a cancer treatment center. They wanted a last hooray. I was the best treat on their bucket list. They appreciated me and wanted to set me up. They set me up comfortably, but certainly not rich. When I met Cal we were on a cruise ship. You know the rest.”
“So now you’re actually a wealthy woman.” Royce’s eyebrows lowered into a quizzical frown
“Say it, Sheriff. I finally hit the jackpot. Ranch, horses, and bundles of money.”
“In his will it stipulates that if you spent three years with him, you’d get the ranch, and insurance policies.”
“That isn’t a reason for murder. I know it’s difficult to believe, but I did love Cal. I had a companion. He spoiled me. I had security. There was no need for me to kill him for everything I already had.”