by Donna Doyle
19
The Hungry Man’s Breakfast
Checking the criminal records of Carl Olivetti and Travis Shaw confirmed that they had been in prison together, three years ago, at the same time, in the same facility. It didn’t prove that they had maintained any kind of contact after they had served their terms.
Ollie owned a Jeep. There was no way to know whether it was the Jeep that was parked by Mayor Truvert’s camp when Reverend Meachem had gone to the lake to talk to John Parmenter. Nor was there a link between the mayor and Ollie.
Troy acknowledged all of this when Leo presented him with the plain facts after listening to Troy’s theory. Leo was ready to go off his shift, Troy was coming on. But Leo was listening and showing no signs of impatience.
“I know that. And yeah, it’s entirely possible that Ollie went up there just to enjoy the beauty of nature and just happened to park by the mayor’s camp.”
“It’s entirely possible. But we can’t open this up so wide that we can’t catch anybody. We can’t accuse Mayor Truvert of helping his brother-in-law to enlist ex-cons. We can’t prove that there’s any conspiracy to help Shaw escape justice. Parmenter. That’s what we have to focus on. There was a Jeep at the lake when Reverend Meachem was up there. It was gone by the time you called the authorities because you found Parmenter’s body. The obvious conclusion is that Ollie—if he’s the killer—killed Parmenter on Friday, dumped the body in the lake, spent the night at the mayor’s camp—”
“Mayor Truvert will say that Ollie broke in—”
“—and then got out of there. He stayed away from Destiny over Easter, then went back. Was he moody because he hadn’t intended to kill Parmenter? Did they have an argument? John Parmenter argued with everybody. But Ollie, having a short fuse, might have shot him. It’s possible. I’m not saying it’s not. I’m just saying that it’s going to be a hard thing to prove.”
“Maybe not . . . Look, Ollie has a short fuse, like you said. He’s a con, a drug addict, he likes to scare women, he likes to beat women. But let’s say he isn’t a killer by trade. If he and Parmenter got into it and Ollie pulled out his gun and shot him, he might have regretted it. But the deed was done. So, he dumps the body in the lake and hides out at Mayor Truvert’s camp—which, you and I both know, he regarded as a safe haven because he was doing their dirty work for them, scaring Mia and then Carmela—then leaves before anyone sees him. Except the minister, who leaves as well when he doesn’t find Parmenter at home.”
“Like I said,” Leo repeated, “focus on Parmenter. We can’t prove anything against Truvert or Stark, and Carmela Dixon wouldn’t thank you for telling me about the tires and the note. So, she’s not going to be a witness. Parmenter. And you think he’ll break?”
“I think so. I hope so.”
“I hope so, too. I’d like to get this solved. I hear that Reverend Meachem is having a hard time over at First Church.”
“That’s what Kelly says.”
“You and Kelly . . . she’s a pretty girl.”
“Very pretty.”
“It’s time you settled down.”
“Maybe.”
“You thinking about it?”
“I’m thinking about how to get Ollie to own up to killing John Parmenter.”
“Maybe Kelly might have some ideas. She’s a librarian. They know everything.”
Kelly was just as convinced as Troy that all the roads from the crime in Settler Springs somehow led back to the Starks, but she acknowledged that it couldn’t readily be proven.
“But if this Ollie guy has a quick temper, and John riled him, who knows what happened? Rev. Dal is an easy-going guy and John had him going off like a grenade at a church meeting.”
Mrs. Stark hadn’t come into the library that day. Carmela had told Kelly, as they were closing up, that it felt like a holiday. Carmela was still worried about the threatening note left in her car, but she was back to work and her car had four new tires on it.
“That’s what I figure.”
“It certainly is interesting that he was parked by the mayor’s camp, though.”
“Like Leo said, ‘Focus on Parmenter.’ But I’m keeping the mayor and that bit off to the side. It’ll come into play sometime. The Starks are leaving tracks; they’re little tracks right now and they don’t seem to lead anywhere, but eventually, they will. In the meantime . . . we have to think of a way to find out what Ollie did and what he knows.”
“’We’?” Kelly repeated, not sure she’d heard him correctly.
Troy grinned. “Leo says I need to check with my local librarian. He says librarians know everything.”
“That’s a lot to live up to. I think I’m going to need a ‘Hungry Man Breakfast’ to manage that.”
“Tomorrow, the Trail, seven o’clock?”
The next day, she was there before him as usual, doing stretching exercises in the parking lot while she waited.
“Any ideas on how to get Ollie to confess?”
“I haven’t had my ‘Hungry Man Breakfast’ yet. Give me time.”
It wasn’t a subject for jesting and both knew it. But being together on a day when the weather added to, instead of detracting from, their pleasure, gave each of them a sense of euphoria. The weather was good, a cool breeze delivering the fresh scents of the grass, the lilacs, and the fertile earth itself to their nostrils as they ran. The day promised to be a sunny one, but for now, it was enough that the sky was blue without a hint of rain.
There were a few others on the Trail, some of them familiar to because they also were early morning runners. They nodded greeting and kept running. It wasn’t a lack of warmth, merely a mutual understanding that they were there to run and running came first. After their run, Kelly and Troy drove their cars to the Café.
“It’s good to see you too again,” Francie the waitress greeted them. “It’s been a long winter. The usual for you both?”
“You still remember?”
“Of course,” Francie said.
“You see?” Troy whispered after she left. “You’re notorious.”
And Francie did remember, right down to the sugar and cream for coffee.
“Well?” Troy asked after watching Kelly dive into her pancakes. “Any ideas? I’ve been racking my brain and I can’t think of a way to trick him into confessing. And he must not have beaten Destiny lately, because we haven’t gotten any calls from the neighbors. Maybe he’s reforming.”
“You think that he’s calmed down because the kids aren’t living there now?”
“I don’t know. That’s pretty pathetic if it’s true.”
“It must be horrible to love like that,” Kelly said. “To be willing to give up your kids in order to appease a boyfriend. I don’t understand it. Is there some redeeming characteristic in him?”
“He’s s small-time hood who’s been in trouble since he got out of the army. He got a general discharge. Not dishonorable, but not honorable either.”
“What about before the army?”
“Nothing major. Juvenile stuff, but nothing that was bad enough to keep him out of enlisting.”
“I wonder why he enlisted.”
“Some guys do it because they want to serve. Some out of patriotism. Some because they want to go to college and that’s the only way they can afford it. Some . . . some shouldn’t enlist. They want to kill. They shouldn’t be in the military.”
“Why did you enlist?”
“Family tradition. Everyone in my family has served. We’re military from way back.”
“Career military, all of them?”
“Dad, Grandfather, Great-Grandfather.”
“What about your brothers?”
“They enlisted. My oldest brother just retired after putting in his twenty years. He’s got his pension. Now he says he’s going to fix cars for a living. He also says he’s not ever going to cut his hair again.”
Kelly laughed. “Does he mean it?”
“There’s no telling what Gr
eg will do. He went into the military for a career to please Dad. Now he’s living for himself.”
“What about your other brother?”
“I don’t know. Keith doesn’t keep in touch with the family. He did his tour. Did his duty, my dad would say. Not everyone is cut out for soldiering. Anyway,” he went on, “you’d better keep eating if you’re going to live up to the reputation that librarians know everything. If we figure this one out, Destiny might get her priorities straight and your First Church congregation might find it in their hearts to give your minister another chance.”
Kelly knew that she had been steered away from the subject of Troy’s middle brother. She respected Troy’s privacy; he’d told her more about his family today than in all the months that she’d known him. But it made her wonder what kind of mark soldiering left on some men. Was Keith Kennedy someone whose wounds wouldn’t heal, even if they weren’t physical? And was Carl Olivetti a victim of war himself?
20
Back to the Lake
The last place Troy wanted to go was back to the lake, but after they finished eating, Kelly’s suggestion was that they each go home, shower and change, and Troy could pick her up and take her there.
“Why?” he asked, even his enthusiasm at the thought of a day spent with Kelly curbed by the destination. The shock of finding a dead body in a lake where he had expected to catch fish hadn’t worn off yet.
“I don’t know. I just think that’s what we should do.”
“I can think of better things to do if we’re going to spend more time together.”
“An hour is enough time, isn’t it, for you to shower and change and take care of Arlo? Or better yet, why don’t we take him with us?”
She knew he wouldn’t be able to resist bringing Arlo along. When he picked her up three-quarters of an hour later, she was ready, her running garb exchanged for tan slacks, bronze-and-cream print blouse worn over a beige jersey, and sturdy walking shoes that looked well able to handle the uneven terrain around the lake. Troy, who had opted for his usual jeans and a long-sleeved tee-shirt, had also donned footwear suitable for the landscape.
“What do you expect to find?” he asked.
“I expect to walk around the lake and throw a Frisbee for Arlo to catch. You do have a Frisbee in the back, don’t you?’
“I do, as a matter of fact, but I don’t see how that’s a crime-solving tool.”
It didn’t take long to drive to the lake, although once he turned off the main road onto the rutted path that led to Leo’s camp, he was glad he was driving an SUV. Although the rain had eased up, the ground was no easier to cross than it had been on Easter weekend.
He parked in front of Leo’s cabin. He noticed a few more cars this time than had been present when he’d come up for the failed fishing weekend.
“What do we do?” he asked, turning off the engine and looking at her. She was worth looking at; the effect wasn’t the Logretti’s long-legged glamor, but Kelly was just as appealing in casual dress.
“Let’s walk around the lake,” she suggested. “Maybe we’ll see something.”
It wasn’t likely. Why would a killer return to the scene of the crime, if indeed Ollie was the killer? But Arlo was barking rapturously at the prospect of getting out and diverting himself by chasing after rabbits who were too canny to be caught and squirrels that had the option of finding sanctuary in trees, and when those entertainments failed, there was the lake itself. Troy put the leash in his pocket. Arlo was well behaved, and he’d earned some freedom, out here in the country where there weren’t sidewalks or traffic.
“I’ve always liked it up here.”
“You’ve been up here?” Troy was disappointed. He’d hoped to bring her here some time and show it to her. Foolish, of course; she had grown up in the area and it was to be expected that she had been to the lake.
“Friends of mine in high school had a camp up here. Her parents moved to San Diego to be near their grandchildren; they sold the camp. I haven’t been here in a while. I don’t know why. It’s not all private property around the lake.”
“I could live up here.”
She turned her head to look at him. “Some of these camps are pretty rudimentary. Leah’s parents’ camp had an outhouse. We used to scare ourselves silly going out at night to use it, even though her parents were inside the cabin the whole time. Or do you like the idea of going back to nature?”
“I’m a fan of indoor plumbing. Especially when it’s raining or cold or snowing.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Arlo barked, then looked behind him to make sure that they were following, albeit on their slow, two-legged pace. Kelly ran up to Arlo and then ran ahead of him, knowing that he would chase her. Troy watched the pair of them, smiling at the sight. He took out his cell phone to take a photo; this was an image of Kelly that he wanted to keep.
He lowered the phone, frowning. Parked in the camp that belonged to Mayor Truvert was a black Jeep.
“Kelly!” he called. Had she seen it?
She had. What was she doing?
“Kelly!” he called again as he watched her, Arlo at her side, walk up to the door of the camp where the Jeep was parked. What did she think she was doing? Was she crazy?
Troy stayed back. If Ollie was there, and he was the killer, and he did come out of the cabin, the last thing he needed to see was a police officer to set him off. Troy positioned himself behind the Jeep, out of sight but close enough to move swiftly if he needed to.
“What do you want?” Ollie’s disposition hadn’t been improved by the beauty of nature, it was apparent. His tone was surly.
“I wondered if you could help me?”
“No.”
“Please,” Kelly entreated. “A friend of mine was up here over Easter weekend and he saw your Jeep.”
“I wasn’t up here!”
“Yes, you were,” Kelly answered, polite but insistent. “He remembered the bumper sticker on your Jeep.”
“So what? It’s my Jeep.”
“Yes . . . that’s not why I need your help. Your Jeep was the only vehicle up here the day that a mutual friend of mine and my friend was found in the lake. I thought maybe you might have seen him before he died.”
What was she trying to do, Troy wondered again. Goad Ollie into a confession?
That might work in mystery novels, but not in real life.
“Why would I have seen him?”
“Because you were up here,” she answered simply. “His family just wants to know . . . more. It’s been very hard on them.”
“I don’t know nothin’ and it’s none of your business anyway,” he snarled and turned as if he was going to go back into the cabin.
“I think you do,” Kelly’s voice was low-pitched as it always was, but it had a steely undertone that a man like Ollie was bound to find threatening. “Someone saw you.”
That was a lie, Troy knew. The kind of lie that could get her into trouble if Ollie feared he was about to be revealed as a killer. Crouching behind the Jeep, Troy moved closer to the trees that surrounded the camp.
“No one saw me do anything, lady,” Ollie told her. “There wasn’t anyone up here but me.”
“There was John Parmenter and—”
“If you mean that loud-mouthed old guy who came over to complain about my music, I told him what he could do with his noise ordinances!”
“Then you did see him before he was killed.”
Ollie wasn’t the kind of man who was going to brave out a threat. He lunged at Kelly.
Troy ran out from behind the trees.
But it was Arlo who reacted the fastest. As Ollie reached into his boot for a knife, Arlo leaped, his weight and speed knocking Ollie over.
Troy raced forward and grabbed Ollie’s knife. “Time to answer some questions,
Ollie,” he said. “Kelly, my handcuffs are in the Suburban.”
He could see that she was shaken by Ollie’s attempted assault, but she pulled h
erself together and went off to get the handcuffs.
“I want a lawyer,” Ollie said.
“You’ll get one. Is your friend the mayor at home? Maybe he can get one for you.”
He was surprised to see real fear in Ollie’s eyes. “The mayor don’t know I’m here,” he answered.
“But you know this is his camp,” Troy said with quiet triumph.
It took Ollie a minute to realize that he’d been tricked into admitting that he wasn’t just squatting in an unoccupied camp, but that he knew the owner.
“I don’t know nothin’,” Ollie repeated. “You get me a lawyer.”
“Maybe the mayor will get you one,” Troy suggested, deliberately goading his captive while keeping a firm grip on Ollie’s arms.
Ollie began to swear and twist his body in an attempt to break free. Troy pushed against the smaller man, knocking him to the ground with Troy on top of him, pinning him down. He heard Kelly running up.
“Here are the handcuffs,” she said. “I called Leo. He’s sending the state police.”
“I want a lawyer!” Ollie twisted his neck to try to see Troy behind him.
“Ollie,” Troy said as he clasped the handcuffs on Ollie’s wrists. “That is one request I can grant. You will definitely get a lawyer. You’re going to need one.”
21
Unanswered Questions
For Troy, the arrest released the adrenaline that had been frozen inside of him since he’d pulled John Parmenter’s dead body from the lake. It didn’t take the state police long to arrive and Leo Page was right behind them.
“I’ll need you two to come down to the station,” Leo said.
They nodded simultaneously.
“Did he confess?”
“Not yet,“ Troy said. “But he will.”
Back in Troy’s Suburban, Kelly said, “Do you have any ideas why he came back up here?”