Chained

by Eileen Brady

  “Do you recall what time that happened?”

  “Friday, August 10, mid-afternoon. I remember because after I said hi to some buddies at the rally, I met up with my old lady at the Forever Flowers shop in Rhinebeck, where she works. I surprised her as she was closing up around five, and asked her to marry me. Figured I could skip buying her flowers that way.”

  He punctuated his joke with a weak chuckle.

  “Next time I drove into Oak Falls, I asked the kid in the Country Store where I could find Flynn and he told me he’d up and gone to California. I ate some ice cream and headed back home to Rhinebeck. That’s it until I read about his remains being found.”

  “Okay. Can you remember the make of the car he got into or the color?”

  “Sorry.” His voice had faded a bit. “Before I came over here, I wracked what little brain I have left and the only image is a vague impression of an SUV of some kind.”

  “Could it have been a Jeep?”

  “Maybe. I don’t rightly know. The whole thing lasted maybe a minute or two.”

  My mind started putting everything together. Diablo saw an SUV driven by a young guy. Rusty drove a Jeep that summer. What about the sporty car picking Flynn up outside of Judy’s Restaurant? Denny told us he test-drove a Mustang that day.

  Did they both lie to me? Could the quiet doctor and the real estate agent have killed their best friend?

  After Diablo left I went back to my murder board, reenergized. Sure enough, it all fit. Restaurant owner Judy had mentioned to Luke about the weekend motorcycle rally and noticed bikers cruising along Main Street the last time she’d seen Flynn. Rusty drove that famous sweet ride, the Jeep from his parents, so it would be natural for Flynn to ask either him or Denny for a lift to the bus stop in Kingston.

  Piecing together what happened next would be the hardest thing to do. Rusty wasn’t the only person in the Hudson Valley who drove a Jeep back then and there were always plenty of sport cars and SUVs cruising along country roads in the summertime. Going back over Diablo’s story, I realized I’d forgotten an important item. As far as I knew, no backpack had been recovered at the burial site. What did the killer do with it?

  And there was another thing. Diablo said he saw a suitcase in the back of the SUV. If the driver was Rusty, had he planned on leaving with Flynn? Or were we back to a stranger passing through town, a predator searching for prey?

  I glanced at my watch. Ten o’clock. Rusty’s office was closed. I wasn’t sure if it would be open on Saturday, but I left a message for him to call me as soon as possible. The only number I had for Denny was the real estate office, so I left a message there too. Maybe one of them saw someone pulled over at the traffic circle. Before I jumped to conclusions, I needed to get all the various facts straight.

  My imagination started spinning dangerously out of control.

  I texted Luke:

  Need to talk to you. Tomorrow OK?

  His answer was immediate:

  On Duty near U. See U in 5.

  ***

  Ten minutes later we were arguing.

  “Alright. So what you’re telling me is that Denny and Rusty both lied…”

  “Well, they left out details.” I still wasn’t sure they weren’t honest mistakes.

  Luke glared at me, strangely annoyed for some reason. “Whatever. Anyway, according to this guy Diablo, both of them may have changed their stories about the last time they saw Flynn. Correct?”

  “Correct.” Perhaps discussing this now wasn’t such a good idea. My police officer friend had been upset since the moment he’d shown up at my door.

  “If we believe this Diablo guy, it leaves Flynn outside town hitchhiking into Kingston to the bus terminal. Enter the unknown suspect in the SUV.”

  “A stranger?” Involuntarily, my hands rubbed my eyes. “That doesn’t account for the roses on the gravesite or the place he was buried. How could some stranger stumble on that spot? I’ve driven that road. It isn’t well marked and you’d need a truck or SUV to get up there in one piece.”

  We both got it at the same time.

  “What was Denny driving?” Luke took a step toward my murder board.

  “A Mustang convertible.”

  “No way that thing could get up there.”

  Of course, Luke was right. “So that leaves…Rusty. He was driving his Jeep that day.”

  We both moved in front of the corkboard. “Let’s see. Rusty was helping his mom with yard work, so he might have had a shovel with him. Maybe Denny dropped Flynn off and went back to the car dealership. Rusty came by, persuaded him to go up to their favorite clearing one last time. They fought. He hit him with the shovel, then buried the body.”

  “Complete supposition. There’s no evidence to support that theory. In fact, it’s more likely he was killed somewhere else and the body moved to the burial site.” Luke rearranged Flynn’s gang on the board. “I could make a case for Evelyn Vandersmitt picking him up and going into the woods for one last quickie. She drove a Jeep back then, too.”

  “Please, let’s get real here.”

  “You want real?” Luke raised his voice. “It makes more sense to suspect Diablo, a known criminal, of lying to you, concocting a story to divert our attention—when what he really did that day was grab Flynn and bash his brains in. The rosebush you put so much faith in might well have been planted back in the 1800s—leftover from some settler’s homestead that the forest reclaimed.”

  The more he talked, the worse I felt.

  Luke picked up the photo of Flynn I kept on the card table along with my markers and pins. “You know, less than two-thirds of murders in the United States are solved. One third of killers literally get away with their crimes. This is one of them.”

  “Okay. You’ve made your point.”

  He hovered over me, angry face set in a scowl. “Gather all your stuff together and give it to the investigators, Kate. Let the professionals do their job.”

  “All right, all right. I’ll bring everything over to the station next week.”

  After one last look at Flynn’s picture he put it back down and turned to go.

  Before he could reach the door, I asked, “Luke, you’re a police officer. How do you stand those statistics?”

  My question caught him up short. When his answer finally came, it sounded clipped and to the point. “You do the best you can. That’s all you can do. Accept failures and celebrate success.” I heard him take a short breath. “The cases keep coming and coming and coming, no matter what you do. Domestic violence, child abuse, hit-and-run—you name it.”

  He buttoned up his coat, ready to leave. Our constant bickering was getting us nowhere. His foul mood filled the room.

  “I’m glad I work with animals,” I fired back at him before he opened the door.

  When he spoke, his words gave me the chills.

  “You forget, Kate. I work with animals, too.”

  ***

  Luke’s visit upset me. I took one last look at the murder board before turning in that night. My gut told me Diablo was telling the truth, but what good was an eyewitness who couldn’t remember any important details? I’d promised Luke I’d finish up and turn everything over to the police, and I intended to keep that promise.

  One of my Post-it notes had fallen on the floor—Gramps’ suggestion to check out the memorabilia left at the original burial site. I tore off a piece of scotch tape, stuck it up and took a step back. The board bristled with notes and drawings and arrows ultimately pointing…nowhere.

  I found it hard to admit there would be no justice for this victim.

  I also found it unexpectedly hard to say good-bye to Flynn.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Saturday turned out to be one of those days that made me wish I could crawl right back into bed. Two weeks before Halloween and the l
ousy weather had turned extra nasty. Cold gusts of air loaded with stinging ice particles promised snow on the way. No matter how many layers I put on it still didn’t seem like enough. The damp cold went straight to my bones.

  My staff straggled in with dour looks on their faces. Mari headed right for the coffee, even before she took off her coat. With several sick animals in the hospital I figured the team would work hard this morning so I decided to try to raise everyone’s spirits. “Pizza for lunch, my treat.”

  Instead of the usual cheer, my announcement barely got a grunt.

  Cindy arrived, the only dry one in the group since her car had every bad weather item you could think of conveniently packed in the backseat. She immediately took over the pizza order.

  “If anyone wants anything other than cheese and pepperoni, let me know.”

  Finally, I saw a few smiles spread around after wet clothes and shoes were taken care of and the staff gradually warmed up. Even Mr. Katt tried to help by climbing into every convenient lap and depositing a warm layer of cat hair on each unsuspecting target.

  Before we got started for the day Cindy asked everyone to gather round.

  “I’m not sure if we’ll be open on Monday because of the storm. You all will be getting a group text so keep your phones handy. Meanwhile, enjoy your time off with pay.”

  A short round of applause greeted her announcement.

  “Oh, one more quick reminder for this weekend,” I said. “You all know that I made a report to state authorities about the bear Mari and I saw at Crazy Carl’s place up near Sheckter’s Ridge. Long story short—this guy, Carl, was trying to illegally exhibit a wild bear on his farm. He let it go before the authorities could get out there and take possession.”

  “Another one of his get-rich schemes,” Mari added.

  “The Department of Environmental Conservation just got back to me. So far, they haven’t had any luck tracking the bear.”

  “What’s the problem? Isn’t that a good thing that he let it go?” Nick flashed a big smile at everyone.

  My technician looked like she wanted to hit him over the head.

  “This poor bear may have diminished hunting skills. Releasing him into the wild was as irresponsible as keeping him chained up.”

  “Is the bear dangerous?” Cindy asked. “Should we warn our clients to be careful?”

  All eyes turned back to me. “Black bears normally aren’t very aggressive but it’s had a bad experience with people. Crazy Carl thought he could teach him tricks by beating him and withholding food, so it might have very unpredictable behavior around humans and their pets.” I let that sink in for a minute. What this animal had been subjected to turned my stomach.

  “So,” I continued, “I think we should e-mail all our clients with an advisory and the link to the New York State DEC website. Remind them to walk their dogs on leashes for now—and that includes all of you and your friends. Oh, and Cindy, please contact Samantha Miller in particular and tell her not to let her big Malamute, Jack, run around in the woods behind her house. Their place is pretty close to Sheckter’s Ridge.”

  “Will do.”

  “Good news is that when the snow comes, it’s likely the bear will search for a place to hold up and hibernate. However, I’d still be careful hiking or snowshoeing for the next few weeks.”

  “I’m staying in until spring,” Cindy said with an exaggerated shiver that made us all laugh.

  “I’d like to put a chain on Carl and see how he likes it,” Mari announced, anger in her voice.

  “My sympathy is definitely with the bear,” I agreed. Before we went back to work I had one more reminder for the staff.

  “Remember, if you do encounter a bear, don’t run away from it. It’s a race that you’re bound to lose.”

  Because of the upcoming storm most of our appointments had canceled. Our only house call was a big litter of golden retriever puppies—which made Mari and me very happy. Playing with puppies and kittens is good for the soul.

  Once we arrived at the big farmhouse not too far from the office we got right down to business.

  All eight in this litter had new homes and would be ready to go at ten weeks of age. Doreen Merced, the breeder, preferred to give her gang a few extra weeks of doggie and human socialization before letting them go, which certainly was a good idea, in my opinion.

  Kneeling down in a sea of wiggling puppy bodies made me forget all my worries. Doreen had made our job easier by assigning each puppy a different-colored collar. Sitting quietly I watched the brothers and sisters interact with each other to evaluate their personalities and places in the group dynamics.

  I scooped up a little female with a pink collar. “Let’s start with this one,” I told Mari.

  “Great.” She opened the laptop and sat down at Doreen’s kitchen table. “Ready when you are.”

  Through trial and error we had found this was the most efficient way to keep track of multiple exams. Not only would I supply a medical history but I’d also try to ascribe a preliminary personality assessment to the puppy. Thanks to Mari, everything went into each individualized computer record that I’d review back at the hospital.

  But first I wanted to sniff puppy fur and sweet puppy breath. The little female obliged with a quick lick on the cheek.

  I rolled the golden puff of fur over on her back and held her there with the palm of my hand. She stared up at me making no effort to move. However, as soon as I withdrew my hand she stood up and licked my fingers.

  As I examined her I called out my results to Mari. “Heart and lungs, fine. Teeth and gums normal. Bite excellent. Pupils responsive. Ear canals clean. Nails and feet normal, body confirmation good. Umbilicus healed. Temp normal.” Hugging the puppy close I distracted her with a rub on the ear before using my smallest needle to administer the booster vaccination. Then, after a quick kiss to the top of her silky head, I put her down. Unlike human medical doctors, veterinarians had no restrictions on kissing their furry clients.

  Immediately the puppy scampered back to her brothers and sisters. “Healthy puppy. She’s got a balanced personality and would make an excellent family dog.”

  “Got it.” Mari typed with one finger while shooing off a pair of puppies attacking her shoelaces. “Next?”

  We worked our way through the litter, finding one Alpha personality attached to the largest male and one female who seemed a bit shy. To her credit, Doreen had already noted those traits but we spent additional time discussing methods of building confidence in the shy puppy and reining in the male who thought he was king of the world.

  “I wish all breeders were like you, Doreen,” I said truthfully, as I observed Goldie, the mom of the group. Watching from the safety of an armchair another member of the family, a large Siamese cat, stared down at the puppies probably hoping they’d disappear.

  “That’s Simon,” Doreen said. “He and Goldie are best friends. The puppies know they can’t boss him around.”

  Before we left we checked each baby golden to make sure there were no adverse reactions to their shots. Simon washed his face and ignored us.

  “I’m glad to see the litter gets to interact with a feline who is comfortable around dogs. That makes it easier if their permanent homes include any cats.”

  The whole gang of golden retrievers followed us to the door but stopped abruptly at the baby gate set up in the hallway.

  Everyone’s tail wagged a happy good-bye.

  I wished I had a tail to wag back at them.

  ***

  By the time we closed up at two, the entire staff was eager to go home. The big snowstorm loomed over everyone’s weekend plans. All my patients had gone home, including the senior citizen doggy in early congestive heart failure. We’d spent a good hour reviewing cardiac disease, explaining each medication. I had given them my number and the emergency clinic’s number in ca
se of a problem. Once Cindy closed up, the hospital became terribly quiet. I felt uneasy there, not quite ready to call it a day. I’d gotten very comfortable having Jeremy around and I missed him.

  A quick inventory of my fridge showed I needed eggs, milk, English muffins, and a bunch of other things plus Buddy’s favorite canned food. Since I’d likely be cooped up in the apartment for the next few days I looked forward to getting out, even if it was only to the grocery store.

  The wind had died down but the still cold air wasn’t much of an improvement. Dialing the heat up to max in the truck left my mind free to hypothesize about Flynn’s mysterious disappearance and to run in useless circles. I’d left messages for Denny and Nate to confirm any part of Diablo’s story. This morning I’d called Rusty’s office again and left a second message on his voice mail. The only phone number I had for Evelyn Vandersmitt was routed through the high school, so I had no idea if she would get it. What really had me spinning like a top was wondering if Diabolo’s entire story was a lie.

  Had his hard-luck story duped me as Luke suspected it had?

  When I pulled into the parking lot I was surprised at the number of people shopping. The aisles were jammed with seniors, rambunctious families, and harried singles grabbing things off the shelves in preparation for the storm. A few bikers in chaps mixed with the crowd, loading up their carts with breakfast cereal and cases of beer. A frowning Nate Porter from the Country Store walked right past me with a flashlight and handful of batteries, concentrating so hard he didn’t even see me.

  From the end of the bread aisle Flynn’s stepfather, Bruce, glared at me, then said, “Couldn’t leave well enough alone, Doc. She’s leaving, thanks to you.” He looked like he wanted to ram me with his cart.

  That encounter caused me inadvertently to back into an employee stacking Halloween candy around a blowup ghoul. When my elbow brushed an orange bowl decorated with a spider web it cackled, “Beware.”