"Humor from Dr. Stone," said Rory. "What's next," he laughed.
Body Invasion
The three detectives waited to see the body before it was transported to the morgue. Stacy gave the young woman a close look. She felt the hair noting the woman had used a good shampoo and conditioner. Her scalp was perfectly clean. Ears were spotless. Teeth even and like the ears clean. The neck didn't have any marks on it. There wasn't much evidence of makeup, but then redheads didn't need a lot except the eyes for some eye shadow.
The yellow shirt was off the rack, but high end. She wore shorts, which was a little strange as the weather had long since seen a summer day. However, maybe she came from someplace warm. No shoes, which reminded Stacy of the last case where the victim was shoeless. Her legs were shapely as was her whole body. The toe nails, like her fingernails, were orange and neatly trimmed; suggesting a manicure both hands and feet?
She stepped back to let Ben and Rory have a look. When they were finished, the rain was making its presence known that a Pacific storm was upon the coast of Oregon. The three detectives went to lunch across the street from the police station.
The waitress told Stacy that they had some left over chowder from Friday if they so desired a bowl full. Ben and Stacy said yes, but Rory was into something more substantial, such as a steak sandwich with fries.
"Well guys what do you think about our redhead on the bog," asked Stacy.
"Not much to go on," said Rory.
"She knew the killer very well. Her shirt had powder burns on it. Without some ID we've no idea where she came from. All she was wearing was a thin shirt with shorts. Not your typical fall fashion for the coast. I'd say we need to check car rentals, flash pictures around the bus station and the Amtrak in Eugene. Also take a picture to the motels in the area especially the Dune Resort. We might get lucky," said Ben.
"It reminds of the golf course homicide where the girl came from Nevada to meet her guy and would up dead. Well, here comes the chowder just in time. I'm a bit hungry.
"Ah my steak is here too. Now I wished I'd made it a double," Rory said being half serious and getting a scowl from Stacy.
After dessert of cake and ice cream for Rory, they drove up to see Dr. Stone. On the way up, Stacy said, "I know this sounds redundant, but this victim was here for a very good reason. She didn't come here to sight see or come here for the food. No, she came here for a purpose. We need to discover that purpose. I'll have the guys go around passing out her picture. Maybe we can find someone who remembers seeing her.
Another thing Rory, see if your friend up in Portland has a similar case such as this one. I don't think this murder was an isolated case, but comes with experience. It's just a feeling I have."
"You've lots of feelings Stacy," said Rory. I'll check it out and see if any similar modus comes across nationwide. Well, here we are to visit the deadliest place in town."
"You've a sick sense of humor Tall Man," said Stacy as she exits the SUV at the Coos Bay Morgue. Inside they found Marsha Stone just beginning the redhead autopsy. Marsha gave a nod as the three detectives watched her perform her work. Artists would benefit watching her methodically go about her work. Before she was finished, not one inch of the victim's body inside and out missed her observation.
After she'd inspected the head, next was the torso. Marsha pulled own the sheet to just above the pubis. Stacy's eyebrows went up seeing something in the victims naval. "It's an Indian Head 5 cent piece," said Dr. Stone. As you might remember a profile of an Indian on one side and a buffalo on the other. It would seem that nowadays killers have to leave a calling card or take a memento home with them. Good luck detectives," as she continued her autopsy.
Later all four were in Marsha's office chatting. "Here is something strange for you guys to consider. Her clothes contained no beach sand, but I found a few grains of sand on the bottoms of her feet. An easy deduction would be she was walking on a beach. I'd think it would have been darn chilly walking on a beach with such skimpy clothes on. Her teeth are perfect and in fact her whole body reminds me of a model's form. Also it looked like her pubic hair was professionally trimmed; not just a self trim with a pair of scissors. There wasn't any evidence of recent sex and no bruises or soft spots anywhere on her body. The bullet entered between the ribs, through the heart and exited between the back ribs and on out the back. In most cases the ribs deflect or slow down the bullet remaining in the body. The caliber is probably a 45 which is a heavy pistol."
"Can you determine the time of time Dr. Stone," asked Ben.
"I'd say around 4 pm, but that time is plus or minus a few hours. She'd spent about eight hours in the water. That would mean she was killed earlier. She was dropped into the bog later that night? Someone waited until later to dispose of the body or she was killed away from Bandon. That's about it guys. The coin will give you something to work with."
"I'd say she was killed here and later she was dumped into the bog," said Rory.
"Okay we best let her go home guys," said Stacy. I need to see Smiling Sam in Bandon. There's something nagging at me about the victims ID. I seem to recall something about a startling red head living in town one summer some years ago."
Rory dropped Ben off at his house and then he and Stacy went to Bandon. Stacy had called her father who in return told her to invite Rory for a special dinner. Stacy smiled and after she informed Rory he was ear to ear with a grin.
"Evening Chief," said Rory. "Thanks for the invite.
"Take a load off Rory. The casserole will done shortly. Meanwhile, Vicky and Stacy will make a salad please girls?" Oh, by the way, I remember now after you mentioned a redhead coming to town a few years ago. She stayed out on the bluff at the motel. It was rumored she was a model from Portland."
"It might be her daughter coming back for a nostalgia trip," said Stacy. But who would want to kill her? Doesn't seem to fit well. Anyway, I'll go make a salad and roust Vicki out of her room."
"Rory, I think I told you I'm thinking about retiring to a dual life of woodworking and spending some time basking in the warm winter climate of Arizona. If you were me, what would you do considering my age and occupation," asked Ray.
"Well sir, only you can make that ultimate decision. Once you retire from being chief, it's no coming back. They'll hire an outsider rather than from within. That seems the trend these days. I think politicians feel a local resident is less objective. In my opinion, I feel they're wrong, but then times change. If you feel that it's time to move on, by all means make the plunge. My father says he's bored to death. Even with things to do, he told me that not having to get up at a certain time changed his whole life. He feels worthless and despondent. I'm not sure I answered your question, but from what I see of the station house, you're still very much needed. If I might suggest, begin the woodworking right now. Make a big shop that connects with the house to not have to run back and forth in the rain."
"By golly, that's a good idea Rory. I'll draw up some plans tomorrow. Now let's go eat. That casserole has been ready for awhile now."
Vicki and Stacy giggled at the mountain of tuna casserole on Rory's plate. Alongside that plate a not much smaller mountain of green salad made Rory rub his hands together like a little kid.
"Laugh all you want girls. When a single guy like me gets an opportunity to eat homemade food, stand back and give me some elbow room. Pass the pepper please," said Rory.
Stacy with a coat on walked Rory to his SUV. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but it was a bit on the chilly side. Rory longed to wrap his long arms around her and snuggle into her neck. "Would you like to bruise my tuna lips Stacy," said Rory with a grin.
"Stop asking and just do it Tall Man." Rory opened the driver's door, sat back on the side of the seat with his legs spread out to the ground. That put him eye level with his crush. He pulled her to him and she leaned into him as they both eagerly did some exploring with their tongues. She felt the hardness growing between his legs and without teasing him,, retur
ned the pleasure. But, before it went too far, Stacy broke it off and said, "Easy big boy. You shouldn't work so hard on a full stomach. See you tomorrow."
Rory, much to his chagrin, but understood the situation, drove to his silent and cold apartment. Once he hit the sheets, a big smile graced his face as his dreams of the future filled his wanting very well.
Smiling Sam
The next morning the storm had passed on to the northeast. Stacy saw a sun struggling to break through the rapidly passing clouds. She thought maybe Sam was on the jetty fishing. If not she would find him at home or downtown on the waterfront. First she went to the jetty and sure enough, he was just slowly walking to his spot on the jetty. Stacy had stopped at the bakery to pick up some hot cinnamon rolls that she knew he liked with coffee. She hurried to catch up with him.
"I saw you Stacy Foreham. I've eyes in the back of my head. Charles called me about the redhead in his cranberries. I told him if it was summer time, put up a sign for tourists to gaze the spot where she was found. Help me with this pack please Stacy. I've got to lessen my load going fishing or build a small storage shed here," he said laughing while setting up his fishing site.
"I'll see the mayor about the storage shed," she said with a straight face. He looked at her with a quick look of seriousness, then he realized he'd been had. "Here, have a cinnamon roll and while you munch on it, do you remember a lovely red head visiting her some years ago?"
"I've been thinking about that a lot," he said sitting on a rock pouring a hot cup of coffee to go with his roll. "She stayed up on the bluff at the motel for at least two weeks. She was the talk of the town with her perfect body dressed in a bikini only most of the time. The women in town were furious. She never made it a secret she was a model from Portland. Why she was here is anybody's guess. Some said her husband lived here or lives here. And then one day she's gone to never return."
"Do you remember her name, by chance?"
"Nope, it was said she used a stage name, not her real name."
"Okay, happy fishing Sam. Take care and if you find out some information, let me know please."
There's a connection here somewhere, Stacy thought as she drove up the hill to the motel on the bluff. The problem was the motel had changed ownership not so long ago meaning the old ledgers were probably trashed. However, there were a few houses nearby and also a tourist shop that an old lady owned for years. Stacy was struggling to remember her name.
The bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean was a popular place to park and watch the waves slam into the sea stacks. The high attraction was a stack that was aptly named Face Rock was clearly evident. Stacy smiled thinking back on the many times she and her friends had taken the side hill trail down about two hundred feet to the beach. The word frolic came to her mind as she walked into the motel. A middle aged woman looked up displaying a 'welcome' smile to the potential new guest. "Good morning," she said.
Stacy showed her ID and the smile disappeared in a hot second. "I'm wondering if you might still have retained some old guest list from the previous owner," asked Stacy.
"As a matter of fact I did save them. At one time I thought it might be cool to cross reference the names to surface if a guest returned from the past. It would surprise the guest if I said, 'Welcome back'."
"Sadly I don't have the guest's name, but only a description. The guest would have been very outstanding in appearance being a beautiful red head that was purported being a model from Portland. The best guess is about seven years ago. It was also surmised she might have used a stage name instead of her real name."
"I'll be darned. You know I clearly remember a movie stars' name about the time you mentioned. Rita Hayworth, is the name I recall. I thought it strange at the time and told my husband that Rita had stayed here. Hang on and I'll tell you when," as Kay Knot sat at her computer with her fingers flying.
Stacy looked around noticing that the office looked very professional and that these new owners had spent some money upgrading a fine location. "Here it is. She stayed her in August 7 through the 25th, 2004. That's all I know detective. By the way, nice to meet you. Everybody in town is talking about you. We're happy to have such a fine police officer around. Let me know if I can be of any further help."
Stacy told her thanks and went to the highway to see the tourist shop old lady. She wondered if she was still alive. As Stacy walked up, her first look into the dirty windows saw the same beach shells from many years past. The door bells rang in her entry. Stacy's nose did a twitch as the musty smelling place also smelled like rotten sea shells not properly cleaned. The tiny store was void of human life, it appeared. A small counter with only room enough for one arm and hand to pass the money over was strewn with all kinds of knick knacks found along a sea shore shop. Stacy picked up a small replica of a sea lion. On the bottom it said: Made in China.
"Hello," said a creaky voice coming from the back. "Sorry I'm so slow. You won't believe me when I was sixteen years old I was the fastest girl in my school. Here its seventy years later and the best I can do is shuffle. I know you Stacy Foreham. My memory is still not bad. I was just reading about you the other day. Why are you here? I've committed no crime," she said laughing first then a fit of coughing followed with a well used handkerchief wiping off the residual.
"I'm here to see how your memory is back in the summer of 2004. I'm investigating the homicide of a woman found in the bogs yesterday. She had striking red hair and was built like a model. It seems a similar person stayed next door at the motel back in 2004. She too was a model from Portland. She registered under the name of the movie star Rita Hayworth. Do you have any recollection of that person?"
"I sure do. I can't stand her much longer Stacy. Please follow me back to my little room where some chairs are waiting for us." Stacy followed her winding her way to a lovely room with windows overlooking the ocean. Two arm chairs sat opposite each other with a table at each right side for coffee or tea. The place was spotless. Mrs. Lightfoot, after struggling to sit down, took a deep breath to relax her frail body. Once adjusted, she continued: "She was the talk of the town that woman was. She had lovely red hair and freckles to match. A more gregarious person I've never met. She'd come by here to show me her beach finds. It was shocking to see her dressed in such skimpy clothes. However," as she winked at Stacy, "a body that most would die for was clearly evident."
"Was she looking for someone or why was she here?"
"She told me she needed a break from the big city and that she was looking for someone to tell a secret to. She was very mysterious, but it could have been all a game, you know."
"Have you ever seen this person," asked Stacy handing a color picture of the victim to her.
Mrs. Lightfoot studied the picture hard with both hand holding the picture. "I'm not sure Stacy. Something is nagging my brain, but it won't come out. Give it some time and I'll remember. Let me have your phone number please. Don’t worry it'll come back to me."
Stacy handed her a card while standing up to leave. "Don’t get up Mrs. Lightfoot. I'll see myself out." The old lady smiled and waved bye with her arthritic hands with bent fingers flapping in the air. Stacy smiled and wasn't unhappy to leave a place that reeked of old people. She vowed to never let her father smell like an old person.
As she back out of the motel parking lot, he cell went off. She stopped and said, "Morning Tall Man. You're late today. Where are you?"
"At the restaurant waiting for you to have some breakfast with me and Ben," said Rory.
"I'll be there in five," said Stacy.
Indian Head Nickel
Ben with good manners stood up when Stacy came to sit down. Rory turned beet red knowing he'd screwed up again. Stacy played angry and scowled at him making him feel bad. Ben grinned with a wink to Stacy. Rory said, "Are you going to hold it against me Super Sleuth," asked Rory.
"Not this time. Sometime today you'll do something good to redeem yourself. Any good news this morning?"
"I'm not sure
it's good news or not, but when we received a modus check of similar homicides with an Indian nickel in the belly button, we got a major hit. There were three similar homicides back east from North Carolina to Florida where female bodies were found shot with a buffalo nickel in the belly button. All three were models. It appears it's possible we've a serial killer at work here," said Ben while their breakfast order arrived.
Stacy had ordered coming in, some oatmeal and an English muffin. It arrived right behind an armload of plates for Rory. "That means we must inform the FBI that we've a possible serial killer here on the Pacific Coast," said Stacy.
"We don't need the FBI guys back here again," said Rory with a cheek full of omelet.
"No choice Tall Man. However, we can continue on with our own investigation being unaware of any prior homicides that match ours."
"But the FBI might have some good information we could use," said Ben.
"That's true Ben. We should be pursuing that angle. Let me tell you what I found out this morning talking with Smiling Sam and others," said Stacy spooning in some oatmeal.
She told about the motel confirming the date of the mysterious red head named Rita Hayworth. Rory snapped his head recognizing the old movie starlet's name. She related the old woman, Mrs. Lightfoot's report on her customer bring her sea shells. The best part was the reason she was in Bandon: to meet someone. Also she told everyone she was from Portland.
"We'd best circulate her picture around the modeling studios in Portland. I'll fax it after breakfast," said Ben.
Murder Mysteries # 2 Page 9