Murder Mysteries Series six

by Waggoner, Robert C.

  "I'm sorry to hear that Mr. Gladhand. Well, I'll not keep you and it's been my pleasure to meet the both of you. If I decide to be away for a few days, would you mind if I left my keys here with you?"

  "No problem at all. We'd be glad to accommodate you in any way we can."

  Norm smiled thinking that so far the people he'd met were friendly and seemed sincere in their conversations. Loren looked like he was a born salesman and even looked the part: medium height, salt and pepper hair combed straight back, strong nose and jaw with a firm handshake. He was dressed rather for a golf game than selling real estate. "Fine and thank you for making the acquisition rather painless," said Norm while reaching for the door.

  "Do you need directions Mr. Payne," said an eager to please Gina."

  "Thanks, but I already drove by as this wasn't hard to find near the Sailor Jack Motel, which, by the way, is an unusual name and I'd like to meet the person who named the place."

  The small house he had purchased did not have a garage, but then he really did not care one way or the other. What sold him was he had the option to buy it completely furnished. That took a lot of strain off him.

  He parked and carried with him his backpack and his laptop. He immediately liked the location next to the ocean and the structure itself with new siding and roof. The door needed some work as it took a half shoulder to open the old wooden door. Inside he stopped and gave a look around. What he saw was not displeasing to his senses, except perhaps the stuffiness of a closed up house for way too long would soon be taken care of. An ancient sofa with a matching large arm chair sat facing a small fireplace made of stone. The sofa was of the type if you sat down and leaned back, you would slowly sink compressing the worn out springs making it difficult to get out of. The large arm chair looked much more receptive to sitting than the old davenport. Besides the arm chair had a match foot stool or as his grandmother said, 'hassock'.

  Behind the armchair sat a floor lamp of vintage design. Dropping his backpack and setting the box down on the coffee table, made out of driftwood with a funky plywood top, he went to the kitchen to have a look see. It was about the same size as his old apartment in New York. The nice thing was the window looked off to the south where he could see part of the beach and the empty land stretching down to the bridge. A small refer sat next to the counter on one side of the sink and on the other was a four burner electric stove. Both were well used. However, when he opened the refer door, he was pleasantly surprised to feel cold air come out. Next he turned on the sink faucet and to his satisfaction, hot water came out; albeit it a bit rusty from the beginning.

  Turning back he went a few steps down a hallway where first a bathroom. It was rather modern in appearance having been updated not so long ago. After that was a bedroom, rather small, but with a window facing south, might be okay for painting. The last room was the 'master' bedroom that would not accommodate a bed any bigger than a queen size. It was currently being occupied by an old iron bed for a, slightly exaggerated double size.

  Well, he thought as he retraced his steps to the living room, not so bad. He took his computer out of the bag and went to the kitchen table. It too was made during the middle of the last century, but as he found out, it was sturdy wood made from the local maple trees. While the computer was booting up, he opened all the doors and windows. The back door off the kitchen had room for a decent pile of firewood and hooks for rain gear, boots and so on. With the front door open, a nice breeze went out the back door towards the southwest side.

  Back at the kitchen table, he checked his mail. Among them were a message from his old partner and a short note from the car salesman. His old partner wished him well and to not be lazy and send some news once in a while. He hit reply and promised her he would stay in touch and so far so good. But now it was time to unload his SUV.

  Thirty minutes later he was finished and felt some hunger pangs from below. During all the excitement, he had forgotten to eat. What he needed was a local restaurant and not a chain or franchise eatery. He went back to the computer and searched for a restaurants in Lincoln City. It came down to two that displayed some interest. One was Beth's Home Cooking, not far away and the other was, Ralph's Fine Dining; both bragged they were locally owned. He took a coin out and flipped it into the air. It was Beth's Home Cooking that would get his money this fine day in March.

  7

  The parking was easy and late afternoon was not the time for either lunch or dinner. But for Norm, anytime he was hungry was time to eat. For more years than he cared to remember, he ate when the opportunity arose and not before or after.

  He had left his jacket in the SUV and wore only a light sweatshirt and blue jeans with shoes that walked on air. Walking through the door set off the small brass colored bells announcing a customer was here. Norm liked the sound of the bells and thought he might get some for his front and back door. Just inside the door he stopped and looked at the window table with three companions next to it and then to the counter where six short stools waited for a backside to make friends with. With no other customers, Norm chose the counter so he could perhaps chat a bit with the person who was going to wait on him. He no more sat down when a, what could have been a twin of Gina appeared from the kitchen. The only thing different was the dress. There was no question this was Beth and she gave him the eye before asking him if he wanted coffee.

  "Yes Ma m I do," said Norm with a half smile. "I like mine with milk and sugar please."

  "I could have guessed stranger. Correct me if I'm wrong, but most coffee drinkers adding milk and sugar are used to bad restaurant coffee. Well, I've two types of coffee here: one is for tourists and the other is for my regular customers. Where do I put you," she said with a glowing twinkle in her dark blue eyes.

  "I see Beth that you've already pegged me for a possible regular. Why? I think I can deduce the reason. First it's not tourist season yet. Second, I'm alone and not with a family. Third, I think your sister Gina told you about a stranger from back east coming to town."

  Beth had taken a mug from under the counter and from a hotpot, filled it up with coffee. When she turned around she said, "Think you're pretty smart huh Sherlock," as she sat the fresh smelling coffee in front of him minus the milk and sugar.

  "Sherlock held an advantage over ordinary folks. He was fed information from Doyle," said Norm taking the menu from its holder on the back edge of the counter.

  "You're suggesting Gina fed me information huh Mr. Payne?"

  "I'd guess you're twins,'' he said while looking at the lunch special wondering if she still had any meatloaf left over.

  "Yes, we are," she said while her face turned a bit red. "but I'm the oldest."

  "You got any meatloaf left Beth?"

  "Nope but what I do have is a roast ready for dinner tonight if you'd like some with a salad and baked potato?"

  "Please to be treated so well on my first day in Lincoln City," said Norm. He sipped the coffee and, even though it tasted bitter, he liked the fresh smell of it. In no time she had a green salad in front of him with a blue cheese dressing. He thought, how does she know I love blue cheese on my salads?

  Next came the rare roast beef and a giant baked potato. It was filled with butter only and when she stepped back said, "What else Norm would you like?"

  "A large glass of milk please and I think you must have a hot line to my dead mother."

  "I've been cooking for people all my life Norm. I can pretty much tell what a person likes and dislikes. You simply agreed to the roast beef and deduced correctly that it would be rare. Rare people like blue cheese and butter. Simple huh?"

  "This is very tasty Beth. Do you have any pie for dessert?"

  "Nothing but apple if you want?"

  "Done deal and where might I go shopping for groceries around here?"

  "We have a local grocery store and some folks go down to Newport to shop at the major stores like Fred Meyer and Walmart."

  Just then the bells jangled and in came a bedra
ggled police officer looking the worse for wear. He said, "Coffee Beth and a piece of pie please. Man we've been scouring the banks and brush looking for clues to the murder. Nobody has found anything that might give us an idea who killed Linda. None of us can imagine why anyone would kill a young woman in a wheel chair?"

  Norm was listening but enjoying his food as well. Beth had her hands across her chest looking very sad. While he talked she had given him coffee but as yet no pie. He said, "Pie please Beth. I'm starving. The pathologist said she'd been strangled and violated. Sick bastard or bastards." She brought two pieces of pie and sat one for Norm and the other in front of the police officer who sat two stools down gobbling the pie with ice cream.

  Norm finished his plate including the potato skin. Next he tackled the pie and washed it all down with milk. By this time two other men in blue had joined the other police officer. Norm laid a twenty down and hurried out the door not wanting to hear about any crime, and especially a murder that occurred not far from his new house. Beth was busy chatting and hardly noticed him leave.

  8

  It was a couple days later when a knock on the door brought a standstill to Norm's attempt at painting waves against the beach. Actually he was glad to have someone interrupt his miserable attempt at painting. He dropped the brush into a mason jar of water, picked up a rag and went to the door wondering who would be knocking on his door at this early hour of morning. Before he arrived at his door and second more vociferous knock almost upset him.

  He opened the door and he was taken aback by a nice looking woman who did not smile until he asked her in. She said, walking in, "My name is Debra Carter. I'm a detective with the Lincoln County Sheriff's Department. I'm really sorry to bother you Mr. Payne, but my superior instructed me to see you and ask for your help."

  They were standing just inside the door and Norm said, "Come into the kitchen and I'll make some coffee." She followed him into the kitchen and sat down at the table where his laptop sat with a black screen. While he ground some beans he wondered how her boss found out he was a former homicide detective. He supposed it came from that real estate broker flapping his gums. "Tell me a story Ms. Carter about why you and your superior think you need my help. There must be local or regional detectives available. I'm retired, but to be polite I'll listen to your story," he continued setting two mugs of fresh coffee on the table.

  If nothing else, he thought, she was not sore on the eyes and frankly speaking, might fine looking. A pang of sorts hit some long dormant nerves as he heard her say, "A young woman, age twenty-nine was brutally strangled while she sat in her wheel chair a few days ago. Her hands were tied to the arms of the chair with duct tape and her mouth was taped as well. She was strangled with a set of powerful hands, according to the pathologist. In addition she'd been brutally raped by more than one person from the amount of sperm found in her vagina. She was found in the river after being tossed into the water sometime around midnight.

  She lived with her aunt who resides next to the river where she was seen last. However, her body was downstream about fifty yards or maybe a little more than fifty yards. The river is shallow and it appears the victim was carried downstream so nobody could see or hear what was happening. The aunts' house is the only one before the bridge where the river passes under it. The aunt was passed out from around eight pm until past six the next morning. She's a heavy drinker and told us that her niece had two vodka lemonade drinks that late afternoon. We confirmed she had been drinking. The only thing we have to go on is there were hydroplane races that day. Other than that, we've turned up no clues in the river or on the banks."

  Debra sat still watching him look at something just over her head. She could not decide if he was good looking or was it the mysterious look he had. It almost appeared in a trance with almost scary dark brown eyes with just a hint of gold flecks under heavy eye brows. A rather long narrow nose above a well formed mouth and a strong chin made him look intimidating. No wonder he was respected as a seasoned homicide detective. Not only that, but he commanded respect and pity the guy who disagreed with him. She gave off a slight shudder bringing his eyes down to hers. He said, "You know there are two reasons people call for help. One is because they truly need assistance and the other one is they are too lazy to do it themselves. Which one fits you and your superiors the best?"

  Where did that come from, she thought, as her head snapped back from the pointed statement and an even more direct question. Her mouth came open, but no words followed. Then she saw just the slightest of a twinkle in his eye knowing he was testing her and her job. "I'll be honest with you and for me it's an honest request because I don't much experience with the crime of murder. As far as my superior, I think he's basically lazy and if a solution comes quickly, he'll tout the credit of his doing. I've known the victim since childhood. She's led a tough life, but seemed to always be cheerful and upbeat. Those that saw her viewed a very pretty young woman whose gleaming smile melted most men."

  "Frankly speaking I retired for a reason. To investigate a homicide requires digging around in peoples personal lives that scrapes up things best left undisturbed. To find a killer or killers, requires a great amount of energy and brain power. Detection is just plain hard work Ms. Carter. Let me give it some thought and if you meet me at Beth's around four pm today, I'll give you an answer to your request."

  Debra stood up and said, "I'll be there." He followed her to his door and heard the bells jingle as she left. She must not have heard them coming in, but now she turned and looked over her shoulder with a curious mind wondering why anyone would have bells jangling on their front door. He turned and without a second thought about returning to his painting, went to the wood room for a change of shoes for a walk on the beach.

  The weather had been pretty much the same since he arrived. The days had an off –shore wind with temps in the seventy degree range. The locals said it was a phenomenon that occurred each spring for up to a two week period before changing back to the cool on-shore flow of air. So instead of a light T-shirt, Norm would have to wear a windbreaker, he understood from the talk around Beths' restaurant. Regardless he really didn't care what the weather did.

  His thinking came back around to the visit by Debra and it was not so much her request for help, but he enjoyed talking to a person who did not seem to be totally focused on the problem at hand. Yes, she was deeply concerned about the death of a person she had known, but there was much more to Debra than met the eye. He walked along the beach kicking a few shells with his head down thinking about her. It was not long and he had come to where the River D emptied into the ocean. To Norm it didn't seem like a river so much as a creek. He looked upstream and saw the bridge and nothing beyond. It was the beyond where they had found the murdered young woman.

  Damn, he thought, if I do this request, what about the next time someone is killed hereabouts. I'm back again chasing perps like before. No, I want to help, but maybe – maybe – an idea popped into his head. I will advise and consult. Other's can do the leg work. I'll have Debra as my go-between and nobody else. He heard a voice calling his name: "Mr. Norm, hey Mr. Norm, I want to talk to you please."

  Norm turned to the north and saw a figure half running down the beach at him. He waited and when the figure of an male, about thirty or so, stopped breathless, gave Norm time to take stock of who was wanting him. He was clean cut and dressed nicely. He could be anything from an insurance salesman to school teacher. Finally after a few minutes, he said, "Sorry to bother you, but I'm Jason Matty from the Lincoln Times. We heard that you came from New York where you were a detective lieutenant in the homicide department. We also heard you are going to help our sheriff's department with the recent murder of Linda Blake."

  He stopped talking after he must have seen the glare coming from Norm's eyes. A slow burn was rising up from his neck to his cheeks. How dare somebody flap their gums telling the media what he was going to do. He didn't think it was Debra, but most likely her boss, whatever
his name was. Norm saw the young man take a step back. He saw fear in his eyes and said: "Sonny, if I were you, run, don't walk back the way you came. You've had fair warning."

  And run he did and a lot faster than when he came. Norm smiled, but it wasn't something he had forecast coming to the west coast. A dark cloud passed over his head as he went back home totally oblivious to the area around him. Inside he changed shoes and got into his vehicle for a ride down to Newport for shopping.

  Shopping in Newport was rather enjoyable. He had decided to invest in some good speakers for his computer and large TV to watch some movies. He had not seen a movie for god knows how many years. He thought it time to join the world again. However, the clock on his dash told him time was drawing near for his visit with Debra at Beth's restaurant.

  9

  Norm almost did not turn into the restaurant parking lot. He saw a sheriff's car and when he watched Debra leave his house, she was driving an unmarked car. However, he did see her car sitting next to the marked sheriff's car. That could only mean her superior was there or was it someone else? At the last moment he pulled in, got out, took a deep breath of fragrant air that smelled like freshly mown grass and walked in. Beth was standing at the window table talking to Debra and a late middle age man in full official law enforcement uniform.

  He went to the counter and sat down reaching for the menu. Beth came waddling over and immediately poured him a cup of freshly ground coffee. He had been turned from coffee with milk and sugar back to regular coffee. Beth said, "How are you today Norm?"

  "Not bad Beth. I went shopping and bought a few things I needed. I'd like some pie please."

  "Debra and the Sheriff want to meet and speak with you Norm," she said rather nervously.

  "Just pie and coffee Beth," was his firm comment. Two sips of coffee and Debra was sitting on the stool next to him. She quietly said: