Murder Comes by Mail

by A. H. Gabhart

  Oh yes, and she had some messages for him. Betty Jean wanted him to call first chance he got. She’d tried to reach him all day, but he must have been out of range. No, Betty Jean hadn’t sounded in a panic and hadn’t said the first word about any suspicious envelopes. Karen had called not ten minutes ago to say it was a good thing she was at her sister’s house since Janet was feeling some twinges. The baby might be planning an imminent arrival.

  And by the way, Alexandria had called looking for him, but she wouldn’t leave a message. Said she’d call back if she couldn’t reach him at the log house. She didn’t sound quite like herself, so it might be a good idea for Michael to give her a call before it got too late.

  Michael looked at the flashing message light on the phone, told Aunt Lindy he’d see her in about an hour, and hung up.

  He hit the play message button and Betty Jean asked him to call as soon as he could, but Aunt Lindy was right. She didn’t sound panicked. She must have found out something about Jackson, but she hadn’t gotten pictures.

  Michael frowned at the sound of Dr. Colson’s voice on the next message. “Just wondering if you’d considered my offer of counseling yet.” The man just would not give up. Michael cut him off, moving on to the next message. A hang-up, maybe Aunt Lindy.

  Then the sheriff’s voice boomed out from the machine. “Sorry I haven’t been around to help during all this, Mike, but I know I can depend on you to keep things under control up there. If you need me and can’t get me on my cell, Betty Jean has the number down here.”

  Michael frowned and wondered where “down here” was. Maybe the sheriff had gone to Florida. Michael and Betty Jean had been too slow getting out of the gate and now they were stuck. At least he was. Who knew about Betty Jean? If she found pictures on her doorstep at home, she’d be off to Hawaii as fast as she could pack her swimsuit.

  If only they could find Jackson and end this mess. How many places were there for a man on the run to stay in Eagleton? Maybe he was hiding out in one of the tourist cabins around the lake. Could be he was even the fisherman who had called in about spotting the car. Michael should have already checked that out.

  Alex’s voice came on the next message. While she didn’t exactly sound panicked, she definitely sounded strained. “All right, Michael. I don’t like this. An envelope of pictures showed up at the office today. In the regular mail. My secretary fainted. Hit her head on the side of the desk on the way down. Five stitches and a worker’s comp claim, no doubt. I’ve seen worse. Pictures, I mean, but I didn’t like seeing my name and office address on that envelope. Return address just had Mike. Cute, huh?”

  She paused as though waiting for him to answer, and Michael leaned closer to the machine to be sure he wasn’t missing anything. She pulled in a breath and went on. “What am I supposed to do with them? Turn them over to the police here? No need you calling me. I’m turning off my cell and not going home. I’m certainly not leaving a message on your machine saying where I am. The security of your phone line is suspect. Very suspect. But I will call you. Never fear. I’m doing enough of the fearing part on this end. It’s a few minutes past four. Betty Jean is texting me a picture of this guy pronto. If he’s out there stalking me, I want to see him first.”

  Michael hit the replay button and listened to her message again, hating the miles between them. How could he protect her if she was there and he was here? The hard part of it all was that if it hadn’t been for him, she wouldn’t need protecting. At least not from Jackson.

  29

  Michael had to look up Betty Jean’s parents’ number in the phone book.

  “About time you called,” Betty Jean said after her father handed her the phone. “I about wore my fingers out trying to call you this afternoon.”

  “You talk to Alex?”

  “She’s not happy either. Said anybody who couldn’t get a phone call didn’t live where somebody should live. I guess I could’ve told her you left your phone at the office, but I figured she’d freak at that. Not that it would have mattered. I tried the radio and Buck’s phone too. No signal anywhere out there.”

  “You knew where we were. You could have sent Lester down to the lake with a message.”

  “I might have considered it, but he had to take his mother to the doctor over in Eagleton. A good son like Lester can’t refuse his mama no matter what else might be happening in the county.”

  “Lester is a good son.”

  “That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”

  Betty Jean sounded like she’d had a long day. Michael didn’t try to tell her his was worse, even though it had to be. The image of Julie Lynne’s body flashed in front of his eyes while Betty Jean went on.

  “Uncle Al needs to quit worrying about money and hire another deputy. Anyway, I did try to get that Detective Whitt’s number, but those people in Eagleton don’t believe in cooperation between law enforcement agencies. Wouldn’t give me anything but a promise to relay a message for him to call me.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered. His phone wouldn’t work either. Signals don’t reach out there. Makes it a good place to be sometimes.”

  “Except for poor Julie Lynne, I guess.” Betty Jean blew out a tired-sounding breath.

  “Okay. You’ve made your point. I’m listening now. Did you tell Alex what to do with the pictures?”

  “She sent copies via overnight mail, but her firm was turning the originals over to the local authorities. She guaranteed the package would be here in the morning. Guess she knows how to do things fast, but I’m not opening it. You can open it when you get in.”

  “You should have told her to send it to Eagleton. It’s Whitt’s case.” Michael stared at his windows with the curtains still tightly closed from the last time he’d been there. He checked the kitchen sink. It wasn’t dripping.

  “How can you say that?” Betty Jean’s voice rose a little. “Julie Lynne was murdered here. At least her body ended up here. That gives you jurisdiction.”

  “I don’t want jurisdiction. I just want the man found. Before he takes more pictures.”

  “No argument with you on that.” Betty Jean was quiet for a few seconds. “I tracked down Jackie Johnson’s mother.”

  “You are a miracle worker. Did you talk to her?” Michael felt a flicker of hope. Maybe they would track the guy down after all.

  “Yeah. I called Uncle Al and he said to go ahead and see what I could find out from her.”

  “So do we have the right man? Is Jackson actually Jackie Johnson?”

  “Mrs. Johnson said she hadn’t seen Jackie for maybe six months, but back then he did have a blue car. She didn’t know the make or model. Said he bought it used, but to her, all cars look alike these days. Back when she was young, you could tell cars apart—”

  “Are you going to get to a point?” Michael said.

  “Thought you wanted the full report. Anyway, she said Jackie is a salesman who goes all over the country and that she doesn’t think he even has his own place, that he just stays in motels since he’s on the road so much. She had a number for him, but the last time she tried to call him, the number didn’t work.”

  “Didn’t work?”

  “Been disconnected. But she says he calls her most every week and when she asked about the phone number, he told her he’d lost his phone and was using a friend’s. No, she didn’t know who the friend was.” Betty Jean answered Michael’s question before he could ask it. “Said he’d been married once, but not now. Has a kid somewhere in Michigan, but the mother won’t let him see her. If Mrs. Johnson is to be believed, the ex-wife is the source of all poor Jackie’s problems.”

  “What problems?” Michael looked at the clock. He needed to get to Aunt Lindy’s house. But he also knew Betty Jean couldn’t be rushed. She had to give the information the way she received it.

  “Not being able to settle down. Financial woes. She knew he was having money problems because he borrowed money from her a couple of months ago. Claimed he was in
a tight spot, but that he had some big clients on the line and he’d pay her back with extra in no time at all. You know, all the sucker lines.”

  “She hear from him the last week or so?” That was the question in need of an answer.

  “Nope. Said she was worried about him. That he always called on either Saturday or Sunday. She didn’t go to church Sunday night because she didn’t want to miss his call. Her friends told her she was silly, but she said if her Jackie called, she was going to be there. Besides, so what if she missed a sermon? She could probably teach that new preacher they had now a thing or two about the Bible anyway.”

  “Is this leading anywhere?” Michael tried to tamp down his impatience.

  “Afraid not. She talked a long time, but she didn’t know many particulars. Not the name of the company where he worked. Not what he sold or where the home office was located. She did describe little Jackie. Sounds like our man.”

  “You didn’t tell her why you were looking for him, did you?”

  “I had to tell her something.” Betty Jean hesitated a minute. “So I said we were looking for him as a possible witness to a crime. That’s not exactly a lie and you can’t very well call up a man’s mother and blurt out that he’s going around killing people. She got upset enough with what I did tell her. Said her little Jackie would never do anything against the law. That if anybody said anything different, they were lying and trying to frame him again.”

  “Again?”

  “Yeah. She wouldn’t explain that. Cut me off when I tried to ask, but I’m thinking little Jackie must have put in some time behind bars in somebody’s jail somewhere. I’ll run a records check on him tomorrow. It would help if you had fingerprints.”

  “There should be plenty in his car. Whitt’s men are no doubt going over it now.”

  “Then why aren’t you there watching? Jurisdiction, remember?”

  “I’ll let you explain jurisdiction to Whitt next time you talk to him. Besides, Buck is probably there guarding our interests.” Michael looked at the clock again.

  “You’re letting the state police one-up us?”

  “We’re not in competition with the state police. We have a great working relationship.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Save it for the newspapers.”

  “Alex didn’t tell you where she was going?”

  “Said she wasn’t sure yet.” Betty Jean sounded worried. “I think she was scared.”

  “Sensible of her, I’d say.” Michael’s heart skipped a beat, thinking about how Alex had reason to be scared.

  “Yeah.” The line between them hummed with silence. Then Betty Jean said, “Who’d have ever thought he would go after Julie Lynne?”

  “Not me. But I suppose he got her name out of the Gazette. Did Hank put in his article that we were on the way to her play when I played the hero and kept Jackson from jumping?”

  “I can’t believe you never read that story, but actually Hank did make a big deal out of Julie Lynne, the former Hidden Springs nobody, now an accomplished actress.” Betty Jean blew out another breath and went on sounding as weary as Michael felt. “You want me to go over that paper and see who else is mentioned that this nut might decide to do in? It’ll still be around here somewhere. Mom never throws anything away.”

  “Couldn’t hurt.”

  Betty Jean was silent for a second. “He quoted your aunt.”

  “I know. Aunt Lindy told me, but I just talked to her and she’s okay. You stay okay too, Betty Jean. Don’t fall for any lines about having to come meet me or anybody else to help or anything.”

  “I never fall for lines.” Betty Jean attempted a little laugh.

  “I mean it. This guy is smart. He might not look it, but he is. He found Alex.”

  “I know.” Betty Jean’s voice suddenly sounded small and far away. “She’s scared. I’m scared. We’re all scared. Find him, Michael. Soon.”

  After he hung up, Michael headed for the shower. He didn’t want to show up at Aunt Lindy’s with this rank smell clinging to him. He was unbuttoning his uniform shirt when he remembered the dead fish or whatever outside. He might as well take care of it while he was in his ruined clothes. It shouldn’t take long.

  He made Jasper stay inside, to the dog’s distress, but the last thing he needed was the dog finding the rotten thing and rolling in it. That would mean a bath for Jasper too before he could get to Aunt Lindy’s. Michael played his flashlight over the yard without spotting anything out of the ordinary. He took a few sniffs to determine which way to search. The air seemed fouler coming up from the lake, so he headed toward the dock. It was probably just as he thought. A deserted string of fish.

  Whatever it was, he was ready to find it and clear the air. He wanted to smell sweet grass and wild roses and cedar trees again. Not this smell of death that was on him, around him, soaking through him.

  The odor was strong as he walked up on the dock. He flashed the light around. Nothing there. He pointed the light down and stared out at the lake. The water ripples sparkled undisturbed in the bright moonlight. Nothing floated there. He probed the cracks between the planks of the dock with the flashlight beam. Still nothing.

  He didn’t have time for this. Who knew what this Jackson, Johnson, whatever his name was, might be planning or even doing while Michael searched for dead fish? The thought of Aunt Lindy alone in her big old house flashed through Michael’s mind.

  He was ready to head back to the house when he spotted a flash of orange between the planks. Michael climbed down and got on his knees to look underneath the dock. An old towel was caught in the mud against the back poles of the dock. Michael let his breath out in relief. He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been afraid of finding, but he had been afraid.

  Michael sat back and stared out at the lake again. The odor was still in the air, stronger than ever. He played the light on the ground around the dock and finally spotted the pile of fish somebody must have decided were too small for cleaning and left out of the water in the August heat. He’d have to find out what kids had been down here fishing and tell them not to leave a mess like that again. But at least he found it and, with a plank from under the deck, shoved it all into the lake where the bottom-feeding fish would take care of it in short order.

  He slowly rolled the flashlight beam along the lake bank to be sure he’d found all the dead fish. When he turned away from the lake, the light landed on his rowboat chained to a tree. The boat was upside down and the sight of the tall weeds around it made Michael guilty. He was obviously letting his rowing muscles wither away.

  Some kid, probably the one who threw away the fish, had been developing his muscles though. The boat had been moved recently. The weeds were mashed down around it. Could be the kid had left more fish or spoiled bait under the boat. He might as well make sure before he headed to Aunt Lindy’s. A less stubborn woman would have gone to Boston. A less stubborn woman wouldn’t be Aunt Lindy.

  He didn’t see the shoe until he stumbled over it. The black loafer was run over on the inside heel and a couple of sizes smaller than Michael wore. The toe was scuffed and covered with grass stain, but the supple leather showed no sign of being in the lake. That seemed to rule out the shoe floating up into the yard during the last big rain weeks ago.

  For a long moment, he kept his flashlight pointed at the shoe, but then he slowly played the light over to the rowboat a few feet away. A matching shoe peeped out from under the boat.

  Michael had never thought he lacked backbone. Whatever needed to be done, he did it without shrinking away from the task. But it was all he could do to make himself lean over and grasp the edge of the rowboat to lift it up.

  He flipped the boat over on the grass and stared into the fixed eyes of the man he’d pulled back from the edge of the bridge. He had claimed to want to find Jackie Johnson. Now he had.

  30

  Michael stared at the body of the man he’d last seen being loaded in the Hidden Springs ambulance. The night fell like a shroud arou
nd him. The stars quit shining. The frogs stopped croaking, and the lake water no longer caressed the bank.

  It had to be some kind of nightmare. Please, Lord, let that be true. All of it nothing more than a nightmare from the start and he would wake up in a little bit. Then before he was halfway through eating his breakfast cereal, the whole thing would slide off into that dream never-never land to be forgotten forever. Julie Lynne would be flaunting her perfect body on some new stage. And who knew? The others might never have even existed except in the dream.

  After he’d come out of the coma when he was fifteen, he often had to test to see if he was in the present or dreaming. He had to weigh and balance his memories to decide if something had really happened or might be some leftover from the black sleep sneaking into his thoughts. But he wasn’t dreaming now, as much as he wanted to be.

  He forced himself to lean down for a closer look. Blood was dried and caked on the man’s shirt, but none on the ground. Jackie Johnson had died long before reaching this hiding place. Johnson wasn’t a small man, and whoever put his body under the boat must have had a struggle to hide it there. Why put it under the boat anyway? Why not just weight the body down and drop it in the lake? But then, why any of it?

  Michael straightened up and stared out at the lake. The moon must have started shining again, because light glinted off something close to the water’s edge. Michael knew what it was even before he walked down to look, but he had to look, the same as he’d had to lift up the boat and see the body. Half covered in mud at the edge of the water was one of his Civil War sabers. No blood stained its blade, but Michael didn’t need to go back and bare the mortal wound in the man’s midsection to know he was looking at the murder weapon.

  Dear Father in heaven. He didn’t know if he said the words aloud or only let them slide through his head. No more prayer words followed behind. Maybe they were enough.