Secret Keepers and Skinny Shadows: Lee and Miranda

by Mary A Russell

  He wondered how a few pieces of black print on white paper could put such fear and suspicion into his heart and mind, after all, they were only words.

  “Someone is trying to scare us off. I get that. But why? After all this time, it doesn’t make sense. Could the killer or killers still be alive? Can it be the second generation in a clumsy, but desperate attempt to protect the people who were involved in the murder?” Lee said.

  Miranda shrugged as she slid into the seat. “I don’t know, but now more than ever I’m determined to find out. They aren’t going to scare me off. I faced more formidable forces than this when I worked in the field with Ridgeway. We’re going to get these cowards.”

  The thoughts rolled around in Lee’s head as he slid into the car seat and closed the door, but this time it was different. This time Miranda wasn’t tapping her fingers and humming to the sixties music playing on the radio. Her jaw was set and Lee could see she was deep in thought as the car headed in the direction of her house.

  CHAPTER 29

  Present Day

  “Before we go back to the house, we should stop at Jane’s farm to see if Johnny is there. I’d like to pick up the gun and send it off to the FBI to check for fingerprints.”

  “Good thinking, Miranda. Do you mean after all this time and the condition of the gun they can get fingerprints from it?”

  “Lee, with today’s technology, it’s amazing what they might be able to find on that gun.”

  He patted Miranda on the leg. “If I were you, I wouldn’t worry too much about that note.”

  “If I didn’t have you with me at the house, I might be a bit frightened, especially since Adrian is gone. Anyway, I think they’re only trying to scare us off. So, you know what that means, don’t you?”

  “I think it means we’re starting to get close to exposing the killer or killers.”

  “Yes, Lee, and I also think Jane may be in some danger. They have to know she’s connected to all this in some way.”

  “When we visited her yesterday, I could sense she was holding back on information, but I didn’t know why, so I didn’t press her,” Lee said.

  Lee’s phone chirped.

  “Hello, this is Lee.”

  “Who are you and why do you want to know about Bert Grayson’s murder?” Lee hit the speaker-phone button so Miranda could listen as she drove.

  “Who is this? Why do you want to know who I am?”

  “I want to know who you are and what’s your connection to Bert Grayson?”

  “As the ad in the newspaper reads, I’m doing writing research for a possible book about the murder. I’m willing to listen to any information you’d like to share, and as the ad reads, my name is Lee Perkins. Do you have any information you’d like to share with me?”

  “My name is Roger Grayson. Together we that is my grandfather who was Bert’s older brother, Donna who was my cousin have extensively investigated the murder and we know who did it.”

  “You do? Well, what did the police say when you told them you’ve solved the murder?”

  “They just ignored what we had to say because the guy who killed him works for the police department. They take care of their own and protect them. It doesn’t matter what crime they commit.”

  “Do you know the man’s name who committed the murder?”

  “His name is Hank Cranston. He is a black man who worked in the police department and ran a tavern up on Jew Hill by the bus station. Bert loved black women, and he got Hank’s daughter pregnant. Hank was so ashamed he sent his daughter away for the remainder of her pregnancy and the birth, then sold the baby on the black market. Before Hank joined the police force he worked as a butcher at a local shop.”

  “How did Hank commit the murder?”

  “The night of the murder, Hank was tipped off that Bert was in town and pretty liquored up. He got together about twenty guys who he knew where holding grudges against Bert. A couple of the men lured him into the alley where the rest of them were waiting. Hank slit my uncle’s throat while all the others stood around and watched.”

  “Wait a minute, Roger, are you saying around twenty people were involved in the murder?”

  “That’s right. That’s what we came up with,” Roger said, then he paused for a few seconds. “Propane Bill,” Roger continued, “was one of the men who was there that night. He went to prison for robbery a month after the murder. While he was in prison he told a couple of fellow inmates that he’d murdered Bert Grayson in the alley that night. Propane Bill didn’t do it, we know he was trying to cover for Hank, nobody believed he committed the murder.”

  “How do you know the others stood around and watched while Hank slit his throat?” Lee interrupted.

  “We know because the police said there were at least twenty sets of footprints around the body.”

  “What’s Propane Bill’s real name?”

  “I don’t know. That’s the only name I knew him by. We know it was Hank Cranston, because sixteen years after the murder, me and three of my friends were in Hank’s bar one night to drink a few beers. Hank sat in the corner at a table just as he always did, watching what was going on. We finished drinking our last beer and were getting ready to go home for the night, when Hank let out a loud blood-curdling laugh that sent chills through everyone. We stood outside a few seconds and looked at one, then the other. We were trying to understand what just happened. Then we went to our cars and drove home. We knew then that Hank had killed Bert by the sound of his laugh.”

  “So let me get this straight. You know Hank committed the murder by the way he laughed?” Lee looked over at Miranda and twirled his index finger at his temple. She nodded in agreement.

  “That’s right. I guess you had to be there to understand what I’m saying to you.”

  “You have a point, Roger,” Lee said. “Say, could I call you if I have any questions later?”

  “No, I don’t think I have anything else to say about the murder.”

  “Okay, Roger, thanks for calling.”

  Lee closed the phone and for a few silent minutes stared at Miranda as she drove.

  “That guy was something else. Joan never mentioned him to me. Maybe that’s why,” Lee said.

  As Miranda drove, Lee was rehashing in his mind everything Roger said.

  Miranda turned onto a single-lane blacktop road. There was an abandoned ranch house on the right. On the left was a rundown two-story farmhouse with some acreage. The road made a sharp left, and on the right was a two-story clapboard house being remodeled. Just past the house stood an aluminum-sided three-bay garage. A man stuck his head around the opened door as the car came to a stop on the driveway. He was younger with dark hair. He waved and smiled.

  “That’s Johnny,” Miranda said. “He’s a nice young man. He has his mom’s personality.”

  Johnny moved his tall frame toward the car, smiling the whole time.

  Miranda introduced Lee when they got out of the car.

  “Hey, Miranda, Mom called and said you’d be stopping by to get the gun. People act strange about stuff like that. I don’t know why.” He handed the can to Lee. “I put a lid on it so the kerosene won’t splash out on you.”

  “Thanks, Johnny,” Lee said. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness.” Lee took the can from Johnny securing it in the trunk.

  “I’m sorry I won’t have time to chat with you, Miranda, but I have an appointment in town. I was on my way out when I heard your car pull up.”

  “Thanks, Johnny,” Lee said. “We don’t want you to be late for your appointment, so we’ll be leaving.”

  They got back into the car and drove down the road. Lee looked at Miranda. “I guess we got here at the right time.”

  “It sure looks that way,” Miranda said.

  Back at the mansion, Lee carried the can to the front porch. Miranda followed him. He looked at her and said. “Where do you want me to put this?”

  “I have a trash-burning barrel out back. Take the can dump the keros
ene into the barrel. I’ll have Adrian take care of it when he gets back.”

  “Oh, okay, whatever you say,” Lee said as he saluted.

  “Real funny, Lee. When you’ve poured out the kerosene, grab the gun with this plastic bag, seal it, then use this rag to wrap it up, and put it in this box. I’ll print a label for FedEx to pick it up,” Miranda said as she walked into the house.

  She came back out to the porch carrying a printed label and attached it to the box. About thirty minutes later a package pickup truck pulled into the driveway. The carrier jumped out carrying a metal box. Miranda met him at the door. He opened the lined container, placed the box inside, and sealed it. He looked at Miranda, smiled, winked, and said, “Thank you, Miranda.” She nodded at him then he hurried to his truck.

  “Wow, Kid, that was an unusual exchange.”

  “You don’t need to know everything, Lee. Let’s get back to the computer room.”

  “You go ahead. I’ll be there shortly.”

  Miranda stepped inside and closed the door. Lee stood on the front porch, leaning on one of the pillars, drinking in the vistas and going over the busy day’s events in his mind. Miranda stuck her head out the door as it started to spit snow showers.

  “Miranda to Lee, where are you? It’s cold. Come inside.”

  “Sorry, I was going over in my mind everything Roger said. Can you believe that guy?”

  “Roger is the least of my thoughts right now. We’ll get to him later. Right now . . .” Miranda paused waving the manuscript at Lee. He followed her through the door and into the living room to read it.

  He read ten pages then paused and put the papers down on the sofa. “What the heck? The information in this manuscript is the same as the letters. It would seem we had the manuscript all the time and didn’t know it.”

  “It looks like we took a trip to Florida for nothing. Well, maybe not. At least now we know,” Miranda said with a smile.

  “Okay, Miranda, now we’ve solved the mystery of the manuscript, let’s get back to our other research.”

  “Here’s what I’ve pulled up on the Bliss brothers,” Miranda said. “Cain did die in an accident at his workplace. He was laid off from the railroad and went to work for a construction company in Maryland. The dump truck he was driving rolled over when he tried to straddle a hill of dirt with the wheels of the truck. Cain jumped out the window on the driver’s side, unfortunately he didn’t jump far enough, the truck rolled onto him, crushing his body. He died instantly. At least that’s what the newspapers reported.”

  “What a terrible way to die. It gives me the shivers thinking about it,” Lee said.

  “His brother Clay, as we know must still have a lot of connections with all the wrong people including local mafia types.”

  “Wait, Kid, did you say he still has connections with the mafia? How can that be? The papers said they rounded up the mafia, put most of them in prison, and ran the rest of them out of town.”

  “He spent a few years in jail for his mafia ties in the 1980s. After the new police chief arrived in town they rounded up everyone connected with the mob and put them all in prison.

  Since that time there hasn’t been much of a mafia in Bridgetown. Well, at least I don’t think there is. After that interview with the police chief, I’m not so sure,” Miranda said.

  “You told me that the black man working at the puritan cleaners at the time of the murder was interviewed,” Lee said. “The police chief also told us he was questioned about the murder. However, he was in Butler, Pennsylvania, the night the murder was committed. The police said they spoke with several people who verified the information. If what the police said can be believed.”

  “So far,” Lee said, “we’re getting a lot of responses to the ad, but nothing informative except the first phone call, if that guy can be believed. Will you run Hank Cranston on the Internet to see what you come up with?”

  “I’ll Google him.” After a few minutes of searching, she found something. “Okay, here it is. Hank ran a rough bar in a place called Jew Hill. His bar was closed down because he allowed drug pushers and numbers runners to work out of it. He was probably pushing drugs along with the booze. He was a local hood. He’s still alive and is eighty years old. I can’t find anywhere that he was on the local police force.”

  “He does sound like a local hood,” Lee said. “I’d be willing to bet that Clay Bliss hung out there a lot. Let’s drive down to Jane’s we need to question her more and find out why she was holding out on us.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Present Day

  Jane’s office was closed, so Lee decided to get out of the car and walk down the street.

  “Where are you going?” Miranda asked, as Lee put the car in park and opened the door.

  “I’m going to walk down the street for a couple of blocks to see what I can see,” he said with a smile as he looked at Miranda. “Do you want to come with me?”

  “You don’t think I’m going to sit here in this car and wait for you, of course I’m coming with you.”

  Lee smirked. “Come on, then. Let’s get going.”

  As they walked Lee didn’t talk he was busy looking at the big houses setting up on the hill above the sidewalk.

  “What are you looking for, Lee?”

  “I don’t know, but when I see it I’ll point it out to you.”

  “Oh okay, that helps a lot.”

  “Look for anything that doesn’t fit.”

  “Okay, now that helps,” Miranda said, as they passed two young men, chatting away on cell phones.

  “How about those two? They seem too up to date for this town. They don’t fit,” Miranda said.

  “Good eye. Keep looking,” he said. “Look at the contrast between the houses on the north side of the street, and the ones on the south side.”

  “Yeah, it looks like the haves and the have-nots. But that isn’t unusual. You see that in any town,” Miranda said.

  “I agree. But don’t you think it’s strange that the two guys with the cell phones just turned around and are walking back in our direction? Don’t turn around and look,” Lee said.

  Miranda gave a quick glance back. Lee breathed a heavy sigh. “Miranda, don’t you ever listen?”

  She smirked. “Maybe they’re listening to what we’re saying. But how are they doing it?”

  “Okay, Kid, let’s turn around and start walking back toward them holding their eye contact as we pass.”

  The men stopped as Lee and Miranda approached, the good-looking one started to speak. Lee stopped and grabbed Miranda’s arm to stop her as well.

  “You folks are strangers around here,” the young guy said. “Can we help you find something?”

  Lee shifted his stance. “Oh, thanks anyway. We were just taking in the sites of this charming, old town.”

  The two men closed their cell phones, put them in their pockets, and glanced from one side to the other. Then the good-looking one said, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll quit nosing around the Grayson murder. Leave it alone.”

  “Hey, fellow, are you threatening me?”

  The short one pulled a gun from under his coat and pointed it at Lee.

  “It’s not a threat. We’ve warned you enough times, consider this your last warning.”

  The stocky one lunged and cracked the gun barrel against the side of Lee’s head. He fell backward onto the sidewalk, blood rolled down his cheek, the two men ran between the houses on the right and disappeared. Miranda started to run after them, then gave up to help Lee.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be alright . . . I think. Wow, he really slugged me. My knees buckled,” he said as Miranda helped him to the car. Standing beside the car, Lee looked around again. Nothing.

  “Lee, maybe you’re right. We should forget this. These people, whoever they are, are getting brazen.”

  Holding a hanky to the side of his head, Lee looked at Miranda.

  “You mean more dangerous
than being shot at? They’re not scaring me off. I made a vow to Joan’s memory and I’m sticking with this to the bitter end.”

  “Maybe I should take you to the hospital and have your head looked at, it’s bleeding. Do you have a headache?”

  “No, no, I’ll be okay, Miranda. Let’s head back to the house.” He handed his keys to her.

  “Okay, but I still think I should take you to the hospital.”

  Lee opened the car door and slid into the seat. His head was still a little fuzzy, but he could focus so he wasn’t worried.

  On the drive back, Miranda was quiet for a change. Lee was taking in the homes and businesses as they drove. Ahead, on the right, was a little amusement park.

  “Miranda, is that where Lilly said she first met Bert and he told her his dad owned the park?”

  “It is. Look at that merry-go-round.” Miranda pulled the car over to the side of the road so Lee could have a good view of it. “It’s original from the 1800s, as many of the rides are. I keep hoping they’ll sell off some of the horses. I’d like to buy one as a collector’s item. The owners of the park keep updating and refurbishing all the rides instead of selling them off and buying new ones.”

  “So this is the park Lilly talks about in the letters?” Lee said.

  “Well, yes,” Miranda said. “I did some checking, it was owned by one family from the early 1800s until the 1940s when a local businessman bought it, expanded it, and put in the water park on the other side of the road.”

  “I think Bert was trying to empress Lilly. If Lilly lived in Benson, she probably spent a lot of summers at this park as a kid. It would’ve been easy for Bert to meet her here for dates.” He said as he took a deep breath. “Wow, pizza it smells wonderful, they blow that out from the concession stands to make people hungry, it is sure working on me.”