TEEN LOVERS: Murder Along the River

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by Holly Fox Vellekoop




  TEEN LOVERS

  Murder Along the River

  Holly Fox Vellekoop

  Copyright 2013 by Holly Fox Vellekoop

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents and places are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance between actual events, locations, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Other books by Holly Fox Vellekoop

  WATCHING CORONA: From our Dimension to Yours

  (White Glove Books)

  Justice and Revenge

  (Create Space)

  STONE HAVEN: Murder Along the River

  (Avalon Books, NY)

  How to Help When Parents Grieve

  (Blue Note Books, FL)

  www.hollyfoxvellekoop.com

  In Dedication

  To all athletes who ever played at the F. Q. Hartman Athletic Field. You were awesome

  To the marching bands and majorettes who graced the grounds. You were great.

  To all the cheerleaders who cheered for the teams, especially my fellow cheerleaders of the Danville High School Class of 1965. What great times we had!

  To our Cheerleading Coach, Mrs. Lois Gensil. You were the best. Oh, the memories.

  To the coaches of the boys and girls athletic teams who gave of their time and expertise. I remember you.

  To everyone else who helped Danville boys and girls athletes in any way. You were wonderful.

  To the parents who supported their kids on the field. You helped make it happen.

  To the teams’ fans.

  I can still see you in the stands and on the sidelines.

  To our teachers from grade school through high school who worked hard to help us learn.

  To the supportive staff of the Danville High School, Danville Junior High School, Danville Elementary Schools in the different wards, Riverside Elementary School, and all the other elementary schools whose children came to Danville Junior and Senior High.

  You all remain in my heart and memories.

  To my husband Ronald Vellekoop.

  Contents

  Copyright

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Addendum

  Introduction

  Thomas Sheski, having eased into a well-deserved retirement from the Pennsylvania State Police, now resides with his wife Lana in their home on West Mahoning Street, Danville, near the creek. He misses his colleagues and friends but doesn’t miss the struggles or politics of police work.

  Sheski’s life journey has been fraught with grief and delight and most everything in between - a journey which began in the once lovely coaltown of Centralia, Pennsylvania.

  When in his study, Sheski reminisces about past cases and the interesting, often deadly people he’d met. He understood then as he does now how the human story is never completely told. It’s always evolving.

  The details of a small-town experience and the wonderful people along the way are really the crux of the tale. The layers of life around neighbors and others build one upon the other as the story advances. He never forgets the town residents themselves brought him the joys of life.

  Sheski remembers how most of his cases focused on large-scale evil which is present wherever humans gather. He recalls decades of cases, as fresh to him now as they were when he investigated them.

  Today, looking through his scrapbooks and mementos, Sheski’s focused on the TEEN LOVERS case. Newspaper headlines, case notes and photos of the F.Q. Hartman Athletic Field take him back to the genesis of the TEEN LOVERS murders …

  Chapter One

  November 26, 1954, Friday night, 6:30 PM

  “Shirley, are you ready yet? You know you have to be out of here before your father gets home.”

  “Just five more minutes, Mother. I’m hurrying.”

  Shirley Adams posed in bobby socks and saddle shoes and adjusted her poodle skirt. She looked in the mirror to see if the flannel skirt arced out from the many starched can-can slips beneath it. It was important she look her best.

  The 17-year-old tugged on her white sweater set and pink neck scarf to better accentuate her figure. A silver “S” initial pin nestled against the silky scarf, the edges of which fluttered about as she hurried to get ready for her date.

  As a first-string varsity football player, Shirley’s steady boyfriend Joey could have his choice of girls and he picked her. He’d be arriving to get her for their date before her father got home to stop them. After this week’s 44 to 0 victory over longtime rival Bloomsburg, their team is the champion of both the Susquehanna and Shikellamy grid conferences.

  My Joey is the star.

  They were the most popular couple in the class of 1955.

  Shirley peered over her shoulder at the wall mirror and viewed her reflection. She thought she looked good.

  “Joey’s got to be happy with this,” she said aloud.

  Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, showing off big blue eyes. Despite being farsighted she’d made up her mind to not wear the cats-eye styled glasses prescribed for her. She hated the way they made her look and she could see well enough to get by. As long as I don’t have to recognize something up close, I’ll be okay.

  Shirley bumped against the door to make sure it was closed. I have no privacy. She sighed. No privacy at all. She sat down at her vanity table and nervously pushed aside the mirrored tray with her lipsticks and nail polish jars. Underneath the tray was a white envelope with her name penciled on the front. Picking it up in her fingers as if it were poison, she pulled up the flap and turned the envelope upside down. Two black and white photographs slid into her fingers.

  Shirley had always felt uneasy around the boy who gave her the photos and his actions proved her to be right. Before she had a chance to look at them, a sharp knock sounded on her bedroom door.

  “Can we come in?” a childish voice asked hopefully.

  The ‘we’ were Shirley’s little sister Linda and her three friends. Four smiling faces peeked inside the door, afraid to go further without permission. Linda kept her hand on the doorknob in case she needed to make a rapid retreat to the safety of her room.

  “What do you want?” Shirley snapped. She put the envelope and photos behind her and stood facing the girls.

  “We want to come in and watch you get ready for your date with Joooeeey,” Linda replied in a sing-song voice.

  The other girls were smiling broadly. A couple of them snickered and covered their mouths, giggling through little-girl fingers. Peering about, they could see in the mirrored reflection that Shirley was hiding something behind her. Small heads maneuvered to see what it was, but Shirley hid the envelope well.

  “No, you can’t come in. And if you don’t leave me alone, I’m telling Mother.” Shirley went to the door, looking even more annoyed than usual at her sister. Her scowling face and narrowed eyes were twisted from their beauty. The pictures and envelope remained behind her back while she pushed on the door, nudging the girls away from it.
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  Linda and her friends got the hint and ran up the hallway to Linda’s bedroom.

  Shirley went back to her vanity table. She sat down on the padded bench, convinced she now had some privacy. She exhaled heavily and put the white envelope on the vanity, struggling with wanting to destroy the incriminating pictures. Eventually, the compulsion to look at them won out and she turned them over. Shirley donned her glasses and looked at the disturbing pictures. She began to feel sick. The hatred she felt for the boy who gave her the photos was overwhelming.

  The first picture showed a smiling couple having a meal together in a modest kitchen. In the background, the nickel edge of a cook stove shined along with the words “Queen Beaver” on the oven door. At the table, a middle-aged man was reaching his hand to touch the arm of an attractive woman. Her bathrobe had fallen open and it appeared she was wearing nothing else. They were a happy couple sharing a private moment.

  How could he do this? All those nights we thought Daddy was at the store working overtime, he was with her.

  Tears welled up in Shirley’s eyes and trickled down onto her vanity table. Disgusted, she tore the picture in two, severing the couple so each of them was on one half of the remnants. Shirley’s father smiled from his portion and Thelma Temple swooned in the other.

  Shirley turned over the remaining image, one that was even worse. In it, she saw herself on a roll-a-way cot with a teenage boy next to her. The picture revealed the back of his head and a blurry sliver of his right ear.

  The teen in the photo with Shirley could’ve been anyone to the observer, but Shirley would never forget him and she’d never forget what he’d made her do. A tear rolled down her cheek as she thought of what happened that day. She crumpled the photo in anger. How could he do that to me? I’m Joey’s girl.

  Shirley and Joey were romantically involved to the exclusion of others. Their love was the fiery, heady love the young experience which has no space for anyone else. After graduation, Joey and Shirley planned to go across the border to another state to be married. Now, she felt dirty and violated and the blackmailer’s extortion made it worse. Afraid to share the ordeal with anyone else, she suppressed the memory of the encounter.

  Shirley recalled how the teenager had telephoned her weeks ago to say he had to see her that night. He told her to come alone and not tell anyone. At first she balked at the idea of meeting him anywhere, especially by herself. This classmate always made her feel uneasy, as if he was up to something. When he told her he had a photo she needed to see or she’d be sorry, she agreed to meet him.

  Sometimes, Shirley thought this classmate had followed her home from Buckley’s soda fountain where the teens hung out and danced. She knew most people didn’t like him. Danville shopkeepers didn’t want him in their stores, her father included. He said they were sure the boy was stealing although he was never caught. Some neighbors reported to her parents they saw him and his friends sneaking around their neighborhood, peering in windows.

  The boy ordered Shirley to meet him in a room over a garage at the back of the property where he lived. Shirley remembered feelings of anxiety and fear as she approached the weathered shack. Her feelings intensified when advancing the stairs she saw him sitting on the cot, smiling at her. He wasted no time showing her the photo he’d secretly taken of her father and his mistress, Thelma Temple.

  Shirley learned what he wanted from her to buy his silence. She remembered how angry he was with her for not enjoying what they’d done. After it was over, when she cried and ran from him, he’d laughed at her.

  After a few minutes, Shirley gained control of her emotions. She taped the torn print back together, smoothed out the crumpled one and put them in the envelope. She placed them under the mirrored tray. After her date tonight she was going to destroy them for good. She would burn them with the hope the blackmailer and his accomplice who snapped her picture, would pay for what they had done. She entertained ways she could get back at them. These boys are not like others in this town. These boys are evil.

  Shirley placed her head in her hands wondering how she was going to handle all this. How could she ever face her Dad again? How would Mother feel if she knew what Dad was doing? All those questions and more crowded her mind. Why is Dad cheating on my mother? Why is Dad always mad at me?

  Pleasant sounds caught Shirley’s attention and she lifted her head to listen to the music coming from her sister’s room.

  Linda and her friends were monotonously replaying the same 45 records which they stacked on the spindle of Shirley’s record player. “Hey there” by Rosemary Clooney would finish and Doris Day would begin singing “Secret Love,” Shirley and Joey’s song. The records and player were the bribe Shirley had used to get Linda to wash and dry the dinner dishes for her and to stay out of her way when Joey came to pick her up. Shirley winced as she heard the needle scratch across her precious vinyl recordings.

  She closed her eyes during the tune “Secret Love.” When it was over, she gazed dreamily at Joey’s football picture, wiping tears from her face with a tissue. Smiling back was a handsome18-year-old senior in a white football jersey with purple numbers on the front and orange and purple circles around the sleeves. His light hair was worn in a crew-cut. She pulled the picture up to her face and kissed it softly. Her heart raced at the thought of seeing him tonight. Thinking about Joey, she fingered his high school ring hanging loosely on a gold chain around her neck. She absently stuck her index finger through the ring and smiled as she looked at the shank where their intended year of graduation, 1955, was stamped. Only six more months and they would be free.

  On the way downstairs, Shirley banged on Linda’s bedroom door. “Those records better not be scratched when I come home from my date tonight.”

  Linda’s room went silent.

  A feeling of something foreboding came over Shirley as she stood on the porch in the cold night air waiting for her sweetheart to carry her away on their date. Something didn’t feel right tonight. Dark clouds and fog hung heavily about, ominously looming across the sky and town.

  Shirley looked up at a lone star shining through the fog and made a wish that she and Joey could be together forever.

  Chapter Two

  When Shirley didn’t arrive home by her curfew time of 11:00 PM, her mother Janet, had become nervous. She didn’t want to call her husband at their Mill Street clothing store, knowing Kenneth would be furious their daughter was out on a date which he’d forbidden. Janet waited another half-hour and then telephoned Joey’s parents, Peg and Allen Beck.

  “Shirley’s never late,” Janet said. “She knows when she has to be in. She should be home by now. Are Shirley and Joey at your house”

  “No. They’re not here and I don’t have any idea where they are,” Peg replied. “I know Joey’s with Shirley but he hasn’t come home. I’m sure they’re ok, Janet.” She signaled to her husband something was wrong.

  Peg knew Joey was frequently late in arriving home after a date. He’d often meet his friends after taking Shirley home and they’d go cruising around town in his car. Because of that, his parents didn’t worry about him the nights he was out late. He hadn’t an exact time to be home except the night before a football game when the coach had a player’s curfew and tonight wasn’t a football curfew night.

  So, when Joey wasn’t home at 11:30, she wasn’t concerned … not until Janet Adams telephoned to say Joey never brought Shirley to her house.

  “This isn’t like Joey. He always has Shirley home on time,” Peg said to Allen. They knew Joey didn’t want to break Shirley’s curfew and risk not being able to date her. That was their son’s biggest fear.

  “Where are they and what are they doing?” Allen asked his wife.

  “I have no idea.” Peg looked worried.

  As if to again express her own concerns, Janet told Peg she didn’t know where the teenagers were, either. “As soon as Shirley comes in, I’ll call you. Please call me when Joey gets home. I’m worried, Peg.”
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  Neither call was ever made because Joey and Shirley never returned to their homes.

  The Beck family was officially visited by the police shortly after they told Shirley’s parents the teenagers were found murdered. According to the local police, that was all they could tell them at the time. They promised to keep both sets of parents informed of anything they learned.

  “No, you’re wrong,” Janet screamed at the police. Because she was shaking so hard when told of her daughter’s death, Janet could barely focus on what was being said. Her teeth were chattering and she knew if Shirley didn’t soon walk through the door of their home, if this nightmare didn’t end, she wouldn’t be able to go on living. She refused to accept that the teenagers who were found dead under the goalpost were Shirley and Joey.

  “No,” Janet repeated, “That’s another couple. They’re not my daughter and her boyfriend. No. It’s not them. Stop saying it.” She went to the bathroom and threw up.

  Janet’s husband Kenneth was deeply distraught at the manner of Shirley’s death. He was furious at his wife for allowing Shirley to go out that night. “This is your doing and you know it,” Kenneth screamed at Janet. “I told you she wasn’t allowed to go out, didn’t I?”

  Janet leaned over the commode and threw up again.

  Kenneth went to the basement to exercise on his gym equipment until early morning in an attempt to dispel the events of a night gone terribly wrong. This was not how he’d planned it.

  The troubled father was stoic in public, not wanting anyone to know how upset he was. When at home he repeatedly condemned his wife. He reminded her how, despite his forbidding it, she’d let Shirley go out on a date the night of her death. Because of her, Shirley was dead. To him, it was clearly Janet’s fault and he would tell her so over and over. “Because of you,” Kenneth hissed, “Shirley is lying in the morgue.” He blamed her for permitting their daughter far too many dates. Kenneth told Janet he’d make sure this didn’t happen with his youngest daughter Linda. He vowed to be the only one in charge of Linda’s upbringing.

 

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