by Debra Smith
CHAPTER I
On a warm spring day, a well-dressed suited gentleman with hair of white neatly parted on the side and trimmed moustache walked into the Silver Spring police department carrying a briefcase. A middle aged desk sergeant took a drink from the coffee cup, greeted the man as he stopped in front of her. She asked,” May I help you, Sir? “in which he answered,” I need to speak to one of your detectives regarding an incident 50 years prior.” The desk sergeant, uncertain if this was a hoax or the truth, decided to call my desk phone. Upon answering, she stated, “Detective Colter, could you come to the front desk and speak to a gentleman about an incident 50 years ago?” I told her I would come. In a few minutes, my average height and build, with shoulder length black hair stood in front of the suited man. As I shook his hand, I stated, “I am Detective Robbi Colter, follow me to a room and we’ll talk about the incident you mentioned to the desk sergeant.”
When we walked into the room, I shut the door as he sat down at the table laying his briefcase on it. Upon opening the briefcase, he removed a folder and long brown envelope. Before I asked his name, he stated, “I am Grant Severs, personal assistant to Heath Sander who recently passed away.” Pausing for a moment as he opened a folder and emptied the envelope on the table as he continued by saying, “This letter was written before his death and the reason I am here.” He gave me the letter to read which stated:
To Whom IT May Concern;
Please forgive me for the wrong I have done to my wife, son, the woman he was to marry and the grandchild. For I have robbed them of a life they should had.
Heather Sander
Heath Sander owned the glass factory in this small town not yet big enough to be called a city. The factory made windows to glass jars flourished and withstood the test of time. Three eight hour shifts treated its employees very well with never a lay off.
The Sanders’ took great pride in the factory including the son and daughter who now worked there. I laid the letter on the table as Grant proceeds to tell about a different time and place.
Starting the summer of 1950, a wind storm had knocked a part of a tree against the back half of the mansion. The loud crash startled him awake. Down the hall he heard angry voices shouting from the den. He recognized the voices as Clair, Heath first wife, Byron, their son, and Heath himself, screaming in rage as Byron proclaimed his love for the farmer’s daughter who was carrying Byron’s baby. Heath was forbidding the marriage between them. Byron wanted to do right by her. Clair, his mother agreed with Byron and wanted Heath to agree with the wedding in which was going to take place that weekend.
Suddenly glass could be heard shattering as Heath ran out of the den running into Grant who was standing in the hall. After getting up, Heath told him everyone is going to the hotel for the night, because of the storm. Grant was to take care of the servants while Heath went to pack a suitcase. Being Grant was a new employee of only two months, he did as he was told, resisting temptation to look into the study to find the cause of the loud crash
It would be the last night at the mansion on Alder berry Road. A week later, Grant and the other servants with Heath Sander was living in another county. Clair and Byron was never seen or heard from again. As far as the girl Byron was to marry, no one knew who she was. Two years later, Heath remarried by declaring Clair dead with the help of a doctor. The mansion on Alderberry Road was locked and the police was given orders to arrest anyone who came near it. Grant removed the keys from the envelope. As he gave me the keys, he asked,” Are you going to find out what happened to them?” I closed my notebook as I answered,” I’ll do my best to find the answers.” He gave me the list of names of employees who worked for the Sanders’ during that time. Grant told me where he could be reached if I had any questions. He then gave me photos of Clair and Byron by themselves and then one of them together, mother and son smiling in front of the camera with the mansion in the background. I walked Grant to the station entrance and then took everything to my Captain, Lydia Gordon, who became quite interested in the mystery of their disappearance. Captain Gordon was average height and build, with auburn hair, wore wire rim glasses as she looked at the photos of the mother and son. The paper declaring Clair dead signed by Judge Xavier Sulton created more suspicion of what really happen for it’s a seven year wait requirement to declare someone dead.
Questions without answers came to mind as she told me to proceed with the case. Locked in the past, before I was born, a mystery came to me from a man haunted by memories, long forgotten by all, but a select few.
My partner, a German Shepherd named Matti, was sitting by my desk. I slipped my badge and holster on my belt. Even though it was pointless to carry a pistol against ghosts, I felt safer brining it along. Matti and I walked out to my black Ford pick-up. I opened the driver’s door for Matti to get in first. I got in after her and started the eleven mile drive to Alderberry Road on the outskirts of town. Chasing ghosts wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, so I wasn’t sure what Matti and I were going to find. I had only hoped there would be something to answer the many questions I had and perhaps give a lead as to what may have actually happened.
Twenty minutes later, before crossing the bridge leading to the interstate, I turned right onto a dirt road named Alderberry Road. The sign bearing its name was barley standing and was severely rusted. The dead- end sign laid on the ground. Three miles down the road were one farm, my grandparent’s farm. At one time there were three farms. My grandfather, Robert Panache bought the two farms own by the Ryan’s and Tabich’s. Upon turning onto Alderberry Road, the mansion was on the left. On the right was a country, white, church. I stopped my truck in front of a small block building with windows broken and the door barely hanging on the hinge next to a ten foot gate and fence. Matti followed me as I got out of my truck to open the gate. Being the lock on the chain was to rusted to open with the key, I retrieved bolt cutters from my truck of which I was certainly glad I had decided to bring them with me. A hard push and the gate screeched as I opened it.
Patches of grass covered the driveway leading to a stone bridge going to the mansion. The river flowed softly as Matti and I walked across the bridge. Tree limbs, weeds, and sticks were scattered everywhere. The red brick mansion trimmed in faded white was in need of paint and repair. A four car garage was on the left as the sun porch leading to a large courtyard with the falling tree on it in which rotted over time, was lying on the stone.
I walked to the rear of the mansion. A car with the front fender on the driver side was severely smashed in and the driver window was shattered for there were glass fragments lying inside the vehicle. I looked at the rusted Chevy Bel Air.
I decided to call my very best friend Chase Kendra who owned the auto repair shop in town. Her specialty was restoring classic vehicles. I called her on my cell phone to tell her about the car and to bring pry bars. She told me she would arrive in thirty minutes. I hung up the phone as I walked to the car’s passenger door. I gave the car door a hard pull to open it. I opened the glove box. The papers were crisp and yellow. Heath and Clair Sander were the owners. I felt around the front door and rear seats. The car was completely clean inside. Matti let out a bark upon hearing a vehicle.
Matti and I walked across the bridge to meet Chase who was getting out of her wrecker. A ball cap covered her sandy blonde hair and athletic build met us half way across the bridge carrying the pry bars. Her blue eyes scan the area as she ask,” What are you doing here? It’s creepy.” As we walked toward the car, I answered,” A fifty year disappearance of a mother and son.” She gave a low whistle when she s
aw the fender. I ask,” Could tell what the car hit?” She placed her hands on the smashed fender. My cell phone started to ring. Capt. Gordon called to inform me Chad Sander and his sister Britney were coming there. They were unaware of the mansion until the family attorney informed them at the will reading. As I hung the phone up, I saw two people walking across the bridge with confused expressions on their faces. Both were tall and lean with brown hair. The woman wore her hair in a single braid and the man’s hair was cut short and clean shaven. Both wearing pant suits stood staring at the front entrance, not sure what to do next. Chase, Matti, and I walked up to them.
After shaking hands as we introduce ourselves, Britney said,” I can’t believe we were never told about this place until our father’s death. Our mother, Sherry, who passed away two years prior didn’t say anything about this place, either. I am a bit confused and would like to know why?”
Chad replied,” Perhaps mom didn’t know about it either. Detective Colter, do you think you can unravel the mystery as to why our father would keep this from us?” I could see confusion and disbelief on their faces as I answered,” I am going to need access to everything regarding your father from past to present including everyone he knew. I am going to do my best to solve this mystery.” In unison they said,” You can have access to anything you want.” When I showed them the keys, we walked to the front door.
The oak doors were difficult to open as the hinges creaked and moan. As I walked into the entrance area, a strange feeling came over me.
I shrugged it off as I told them about that stormy night in 1950. Bewilderment began to show on their faces. They knew nothing about the first marriage and half-brother. Even though the information was overwhelming, their curiosity about what took place before they were born gave them the strength to explore the vast mansion.
Cob webs and dust was everywhere. A round table with a bowl of dried, brown flowers was sitting in the middle of the entrance. To your left was a dining room leading to a kitchen. The billiard room was below it. On the right was a ball room with a fireplace in the middle. The den was next to it. A large wide staircase led to the second floor. I decided to go to the study. The sliding doors were closed and wouldn’t open. Chase and I pried the doors open after we ask them permission to use the bars. As carefully we could, the doors finally slid into the wall. The den had two French doors leading to the courtyard. A large oak desk was in front of huge windows with drapes closed. A wide mantel fireplace was in the middle of the room.
A corner bar was at the far end of the room with sofa, two chairs and coffee table in the middle on an original rug. Behind the couch were book shelves going around a whole wall and half the other wall, filled to capacity of books. Family photographs were on the fireplace mantel. It was as though time had stood still, frozen in its place. When I opened the drapes, dust flew everywhere and it was there on the floor broken glass. I saw on the glass dark stains. I noticed drip stains on the floor leading to the French doors. A bottle shattered into pieces were scattered along the wall by the fireplace. While I looked at the glass, Chase walked up to the fire place; there was something that caught her eye. Fragments of paper were among the ashes. Faded photographs laid next to the poker behind the fireplace screen. When Chase ask,” Robbi, where you told about an elopement?”, I heard Britney ask in puzzlement,” Who eloped?” Chase gave me a burnt piece of paper that stated son and girlfriend eloped Oct. 08, 1949. I replied,” It looks like a telegram from somewhere. This doesn’t make sense. Why plan a wedding during the summer of 1950 when he was already married? If they were married, then the child had to be born sometime in 1950.” By now Chad had walked into the room, standing by his sister, he said,” When I went upstairs, all doors are open except one. I tried to open it, but I do believe it’s locked. Now I hear about an elopement. This is getting stranger by the minute.” An uneasy feeling came over both of them. The man they knew as their father started to become a stranger. A secret carefully kept from everyone for fifty years started to surface. Britney softly replied,” I think it would be best we stay away until Detective Colter finishes the investigation.”
Chad nodded in agreement. I called the crime lab to come. I was told they would be here within the hour. Chase and I walked Britney and Chad to their car.
After they left, we walked to the rear of the mansion. Chase said,” Remember, when we were kids,” as we looked at the playground before us. A smile came to my lips. “Yes, I remember,” I replied to Chase who stood by me at an old play area at the rear of the mansion as she ask me about remembering us playing ball.
The rusted see saw and merry go round and swing creaked in the light breeze with the trees softly swaying. For a brief moment in time, I could hear children laughing, playing, running, leaves rustling with wild flowers in bloom. Hanging from a tree were remains of a tire swing dangling from the river. The sweet innocence of childhood was untouched by the world’s cruelty and harshness of life. As children we didn’t know it, but being free to relish in life’s simple pleasure of sunshine and play were the best years of life. When we become adults, we forget those pleasures for we are far too busy to break away and fun. I stood there going back in time. I remembered the happiness I long ago forgotten. I imagined for a brief moment using the swing from the tree to splashing into the river waiting below. The cool water refreshing as it covered my body warmed by the sun. I could hear the crack of a bat as we played ball to the leather mitt, to chasing fireflies. The memories seemed like it all happen yesterday. Upon hearing a man’s voice say,” Detective Colter, where would like the forensics team to start?”, reality hit me. I snapped out of memory lane. I turned to see Doctor Bordou, forensic specialist. I saw Chase had walked over to the garage. We were here to solve a mystery. I told Dr. Bordou to start in the den. He wiped his gold rim glasses. His thin build stood in front of the broken glass window. To keep out of Dr. Bordou’s way I walked to the garage.
Chase struggled with the garage door. It took both of us to push the decaying rusted door open. Dust flew everywhere. Matti let out a sneeze. We coughed a couple of minutes. Once the dust cleared, we saw covered rows. As we pulled the covers, windows appeared allowing the sun to beam through. We pulled the covers off of two Cadillac’s and a Limousine. I was surprised to see the Limousine. I didn’t know they were around that time. The Cadillac was blue and the other was white and the limo was black. I heard Chase shout,” Harley Davidson,” when she saw the motorcycle beneath a cover. She saw the scratch marks covering the left side of the tank and the frame was slightly bent.
She said,” It appears the car and the motorcycle were in some kind of accident.” I walked over to the bike. I saw the damage to its left side. I stood there looking at tools, lawn tractor, engine fluids and car wax was covered in dust. Everything was in its place waiting for the owners to bring life again. But something happen to make everything stand still in time. Dr. Bourdou walked into the garage. He ran his fingers thorough his thinning gray hair. A stunned look appeared on his face. Each case he worked in his thirty-five years was different; however, this case was filled with surprises. He calmly said,” I do believe we found blood in the den, but we’ll know more when we return to the lab. It is going to take time to get finger prints. I can’t imagine this remaining the same for fifty years and no one knew about it.” Before I could give a response, a squawk came over the radio summoning Dr. Burdou back to his team. A few quick glances, then he left. To my amazement plates were still on the vehicles.
When Chase gave a door a hard pull to open it, thinking it would lead to the outside, a stairwell revealed itself, leading downward. I told Chase I would go get flashlights from Dr. Burdou. I quickly told him about the stairwell. He gave two flashlights and radios if we need help for no one knew it would lead us. Matti went ahead of us. At first the steps creaked, moaned and squeaked. I could fill the steps shake under each step. The steps spiral down to a room. By flashlights we saw furniture and a wine rack filled with bottles of wine. A desk was
by the long hall way. I noticed the keys were hung neatly above the desk. On the coffee table we saw an ash tray with half of a cigar that was burnt on one end. Two coblets were sitting next to a cigar box with a lighter and cutter on top. I looked at the papers on the desk.
Chase started pulling bottles of wine to check dates. She was baffled about this mystery, too. Suddenly without warning a door slid rapidly open. The room was small with a single bed, table and chair next to the wall with no windows. Chase stood there with a stunned expression on her face. I ask with disbelief,” How did you get the door open?” “ I pulled the bottle in the middle top rack,” she softly said. I cautiously walked into the room. The musty smell was strong. I saw a red stained pillow shoved in the corner. The sheets were sprawled on the bed with red drip stains. I called Dr. Bordou on the radio. I walked out of the room. In a few minutes, he arrived with brown bags and his photographer, Fred Barns who was an average height with short cropped brown hair and eyes captured the room by video and digital camera. Not saying a word he went to work. Dr. Bordou carefully placed the sheets and pillow in the brown bags. On the radio he requested lights and the finger print team to the room.
Chase and I proceed to walk down a long hall way. Once again using all our strength to get the aged door open, revealed the outside a short walk from across the river a parking space for vehicle covered by weeds. The trace indent of a vehicle could be barely seen. My mind had a thousand unanswered questions. Shutting off the flashlights, we looked around the space. I looked at the mansion from where I stood. One could easily enter and exit without being seen from the main entrance. Why did Heath Sander have the secrecies he kept hidden? What was it that made him hide everything? Was he running from someone or something? Where the sheets and pillow connected to the accident? There was something that went terribly wrong here. I let the information settle in my mind. I made notations in my notebook. I saw Dr. Bordou’s team put the room thorough various tests. Everything dusted for fingerprints. Nothing was overlooked by his team.