by B. T. Lord
Twin Ponders sat stunned, hardly believing that the hated Snow Owls won the last game of the regular season. The only sounds were the whistles and wild cheering from the Snow Owls and their fans who’d braved coming to the game.
Swallowing her disappointment, Cammie and Rick hurried to the parking lot. As expected, there were a few scuffles, but between the two of them, they were able to diffuse any escalating emotions. As a rule, whenever the Night Hawks lost a home game, Zee closed for the night, averting any drunken brawls. If the Snow Owls and their fans wanted to celebrate, they could do so in their own county with their own sheriff to pick up the pieces.
At long last the parking lot emptied out. Despite their relationship being in limbo, Cammie still felt compelled to make her way to the locker room to see how Jace was doing. She arrived just as Doc was emerging from the shack that served as the locker room.
“How is he?” she asked
“An inch or two lower and he could very well have lost an eye. I just gave him some painkillers.”
“But he’s fine, right?”
“He’ll have some bruising on his face, but he’ll live.”
Having gotten her answer, she should leave. Standing in the snow, she was freezing. And she still needed to stop by Mike Endicott’s office.
Yet, Cammie couldn’t move. She forced herself to ignore the glances from townspeople and Night Hawk players as they excited the clubhouse. She knew what they were thinking. Even she wondered why she was still standing here. Doc was an excellent doctor. There was no need to ignore his prognosis. Still, she stayed. And refused to look at the reason why she stayed.
After what seemed like forever, the club door opened and Jace emerged. They stared at each other and, although she tried her best, she couldn’t stop the grimace forming on her face.
Jace’s brow had a bandage on it, and his temple and the skin under his eye were already turning purple.
“You stayed,” he said, his eyes alight with pleasure at seeing her.
“How are you doing?” she asked, sidestepping his statement.
“Didn’t see the bastard until it was too late.”
“Doc said he gave you some painkillers.”
He nodded. “They’re in my pocket. I figured I’d take them when I got back to Hank’s. I’ve been staying there since – well --”
“Good idea,” she swiftly interjected. “Doc tell you to take some time off?”
“Yeah, but I’ve got too much work to do at the garage.”
She was about to scold him when she caught herself. It wasn’t her place anymore to make sure he took care of himself. The line between friendship and relationship was tenuous enough without her making it even more tenuous.
“Okay then. I’ll stop by the garage tomorrow to see how you’re doing.”
“Thanks.”
Cammie hurried away before it turned awkward. Jace waited until she was gone before pumping the air with his arm.
It was a short drive down the empty and quiet Main Street. It was eleven pm, and everyone had scurried away to warm houses, leaving the wide street deserted.
Mike Endicott’s legal office was located a few doors down from police headquarters, and it was the only one with its lights on. Pulling up to the curb, she quickly jumped out of her barely warm vehicle and ran into his office.
Walking through the tastefully decorated reception area, she found Chad sitting at the secretarial desk, playing on his iPad. He barely registered her arrival as his thumbs flew over the keys. Bemused at the thought that a troop of armed marines could march past him and he’d remain oblivious, Cammie passed him and entered the office. Mike was seated at the small round table he used for conferences with his clients. On the walls were photographs of some of the more beautiful scenic areas in Maine. Laid out in front of him was a manila folder that he was flipping through.
“How’s Jace?” he asked.
“Sore.”
“Trophies of playing hockey, eh?”
“Pretty much.”
“Say, how come you never got any facial scars?”
Cammie chuckled. “I was fast.”
Mike laughed, then turned his attention back to the folders in front of him. “I’ve been looking through Todd’s files. Unfortunately, there is no mention of any next of kin. As far as I know, his parents died several years ago, and he was their only offspring.”
Cammie felt a big letdown. At the same time, she took this as a sign to let it go. Todd died by misadventure, and was reading those books because he lived at the foot of a very creepy mountain. End of story. She gave a short shrug of her shoulders.
“Well, I appreciate you taking the time to check the files.”
“I suppose if there’s anyone who might appreciate a visit from you regarding Todd’s death, it would be Torri Jackson.”
Cammie scanned the mental file in her brain, trying to match the name to a face.
“She lives in the small trailer on the east side of Twin Ponds,” Mike assisted. “Big woman. Gravelly voice. Likes to wear Kurt Cobain T-shirts.”
With that little bit of information, the face clicked into place. Cammie remembered Torri as an overweight woman, bordering on obesity, of average height with a nose ring and a couple of tattoos on her fleshy upper arms. She had shoulder length dark brown hair and smoked like a chimney. Not exactly the poster child for healthy living.
“Something going on between her and Todd?”
“I suppose you could say that. A few days before he died, he came in asking me to rush through a financial arrangement. He was taking $50,000 out of his portfolio to give to Torri.”
Cammie’s jaw dropped. “Give or lend?”
“I got the impression it was a gift.”
She whistled. “$50,000 is beyond generous.”
“Todd did extremely well in the computer field. He got out just before the bubble burst.” Mike riffled through some papers on his desk. “According to his records, he was worth about three million dollars.”
Cammie’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding?”
Mike shook his head. “Wouldn’t know it to look at him, would you?”
She shook her head. Nor by the way he chose to live his life either.
“He didn’t happen to leave a will, did he?”
“He did.” Once again, Mike riffled through the file and pulled out a sheaf of papers. He quickly scanned them. “He left his estate to various chapters of the ASPCA.”
Cammie remembered Rick telling her how much Todd hated hunting. Maybe this was his way of making up for Mommy and Daddy blasting away animals. “No other recipients?”
“Nope. That’s it.”
“Did the financial arrangement go through before he died?”
Mike nodded. “The money was wired to our bank here the day before he died.” He looked up at her, his eyes shrewdly assessing her. “You think this transaction may have had something to do with his death?”
Cammie shrugged. “I doubt it. As you said, it looks like Todd drank too much, went outside and froze to death. But you know how it is. We investigators can’t help but be suspicious. It’s part of the job.”
“I suppose it is. Now, let’s take care of your little inheritance.”
He pulled out some forms and had her sign them. When she was done, he smiled at her. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do with all that money?”
“I keep deliberately forgetting about it. Thanks for reminding me.”
He laughed. “I’m sure you’ll come up with some inventive ideas.” He paused. “When do you think you’ll be spreading Eli’s ashes?” When Cammie gave him a surprised look, he shrugged. “A few people have been asking.”
Everyone knew that one of Eli’s last requests had been to spread his ashes over Waban Pond – the place where he’d gotten his start in what would be a stellar career as a hockey legend. She’d been thinking of holding a small ceremony with the town, but the apprehension of his murderer had usurped her plans.
“Soon,” she muttered. “Real soon.”
“Good. As sad as it will be, I think that’ll give Twin Ponds a well needed final closure.”
Cammie left the office, deep in thought. Glancing over, she saw Chad still playing away on his iPad. On an impulse, she went up to him and glanced over his shoulder.
“Hey Chad, what are you playing there?”
“Zombie Apocalypse, Sheriff. It’s really cool. I’ve just blown up a squadron of aliens who are using zombies to wipe out mankind.”
She glanced at his rapid fire thumbs flying over the keys and sighed.
Our future, she mused to herself as she opened the door and stepped out into the cold night.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Cammie awoke early. She showered, threw on her uniform and pulled on two Polar Tec sweaters instead of the usual three. She figured it was long past time to start acclimating herself to the frigid temperatures.
Grabbing her parka, she quietly let herself out of the house. She was still upset at Doc for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong and thought it best not to engage with him until she’d thoroughly calmed down. Avoiding him right now seemed the best path to follow. Hopefully he’d do Todd’s autopsy soon, and she could let this case go. Until then, it had managed to get a grip on her. Especially now that she’d found out about the $50,000 Todd had given Torri. Recalling Paul Langevin’s words, was the money what he’d been so sure would save him from whatever it was he feared? Was it possible Torri was blackmailing him? What information could she have on him that would make him part with such a large wad of cash? Did he honestly believe that once he paid her off, she’d leave him alone?
If he did, he was a bigger fool than Cammie could have ever imagined. Blackmailers never stopped feeding at the trough. As long as the threat was viable, they would continue to ask for more cash until the faucet was exhausted. With Todd worth three million dollars, that faucet would be open for a very long time.
Driving along the snowy roads, she thought about the different pieces of this case that were beginning to assemble. This was both her favorite and frustrating part of her job – arranging information in the jigsaw puzzle that was every investigation until it all made sense. She couldn’t bring closure to Marcy’s case until Augusta finished its toxicology reports. Todd, however was a different matter. Could the reason she couldn’t let this go was because it gave her something to occupy her mind with? She didn’t want to think about Jace. But she did. She certainly didn’t want to think about Doc’s cantankerous behavior of late. But that was a given. As long as she occupied her mind with Todd himself, and the circumstances leading up to his death, she could keep everything else at bay. At least she didn’t have to think about her shoulder. Ever since Paul had done his mojo on it, it was feeling remarkably better.
On this crisp sunny morning, she made a deal with herself. She would talk to Torri, see what she had to say, check in on Jace to make sure he was alright, then stop by the office to see what was going on. If all that didn’t kill her, she’d go to Paul’s for another session on her shoulder, then head over to her cabin and start making a list of the repairs she could now afford to make, thanks to her inheritance from Eli.
As she drove along, she pulled out her phone and called the bank, asking to be put through to the manager. A few moments later, a high pitched male voice answered.
“Sheriff Farnsworth, how are you?”
“I’m doing well, Mr. Jenkins,” she responded, picturing the slight, balding man. “I have a question regarding a transaction that took place a few days ago with Todd Paradis.”
There was a sympathetic clucking over the phone. “Oh yes, poor Mr. Paradis. It’s a shame what happened to him.”
“Yes it is. It’s come to my attention that $50,000 was wired into his bank account.”
“Hold on a moment. I’ll pull it up on my computer.” She heard the clicking of keys. “Yes, here it is. It was deposited on the morning of March 2nd and withdrawn that same afternoon.”
“How was it withdrawn? Moved into another account?”
“Bank check.”
“And it was Mr. Paradis who withdrew it?”
“Of course. There was no one else listed on his account so only he could direct his own funds.” There was a pause, then in a lowered, hushed voice he asked, “Does this have something to do with his death?”
“No,” Cammie quickly responded.
Like many small towns, Twin Ponds needed gossip the way humans needed oxygen to survive. A little matter like this phone call could mushroom into an atomic bomb of overblown suppositions. Anxious to squelch the rumor mill, she said, “Mr. Paradis died of natural causes. We’re just trying to track down any next of kin for notification purposes.”
Mr. Jenkins sounded disappointed as he uttered an ‘oh’.
“I don’t suppose he listed any next of kin on his account?”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“Well, thank you for your time.”
She hung up and wondered why Todd had gotten a bank check. Wouldn’t it have made sense to simply deposit such a large sum of money directly into Torri’s bank account?
It took another twenty minutes to reach Torri’s trailer. It was set back from the road, nestled within a grove of tall pines. Although a rental property, the plot surrounding the trailer was always neat and tidy; in the summer the front steps were surrounded with an assortment of brightly colored flowers and a small herb garden. In the winter, the walkway and parking area were kept shoveled.
When Cammie pulled up, she noticed Torri’s rusted Dodge truck parked out front. She got out of the Explorer and walked up the shoveled walkway to the front door where she gave a sharp rap. A moment later the door opened and a cloud of cigarette smoke hit Cammie in the face, causing her to gag.
“Hey Sheriff, how ya doing?” Torri greeted in a voice deepened by too much tobacco. She was dressed in black leggings that unfortunately accentuated every ounce of cellulite on her legs and protruding belly. As if he hadn’t suffered enough in life, poor Kurt Cobain’s face was stretched over a pair of overly large breasts. In her hand was her usual cigarette. “I heard you were shot. You okay from that?”
“Yes I am.”
“I was just about to brew a cup of tea. Want some?”
“Actually, I just came by to ask you a few quick questions.”
“Well, come on in from the cold. No sense both of us getting frostbit.”
Cammie loathed the smell of cigarette smoke. She hated the way its odor got into her hair and clothes. She hesitated going into the toxic air of the trailer, but she equally hated standing outside in the frigid temperatures. Maybe if she asked her questions quickly, she could get out before taking a breath.
She stepped inside and glanced about. The trailer, as with most trailers, was deceiving from the outside. It was roomier than expected, with a living room to the left. Beyond that was a corridor that led down to the bedrooms and bathroom. Before her was a small kitchen and she was grateful to notice the slightly open window next to the table. She made a beeline for it, the cold clean air seeping in to dissipate the strong odor of tobacco. Torri bustled about pouring herself a cup of tea before maneuvering her large body into a chair opposite Cammie.
“Okay, shoot. Oops, sorry. Probably shouldn’t have said that, what with your injury and all.”
Cammie waved away her remark. “I’m sure you’ve heard about Todd Paradis?” she asked.
Torri’s eyes unexpectedly teared up. “Yeah,” she rasped. “I can’t believe he froze to death. He was always so careful about bundling up before he went out on his walks.”
“Did he ever go out on these walks at night?”
Torri shrugged. “I can’t really say, Sheriff. I do know he liked to walk. Sometimes he and I would take off for a stroll along the trails in my backyard. But that was a
lways during the day.”
Cammie fought to keep the disbelief off her face. By the looks of it, Torri wouldn’t have gotten a few feet from her front door before having a stroke.
“I heard he recently gave you a sizeable amount of money. What can you tell me about that?”
“Todd was a sweet man, you know?” she sniffled. “The sweetest I ever met. I thought to myself, girl you finally got lucky. After a run of assholes, I finally met me a decent guy.”
“So you and Todd were involved?” Cammie asked.
“Yeah. We were keepin’ it discreet. Didn’t want it getting around town that we were an item.” She shrugged. “I’ve been the target of too much gossip in my life in the love department. And Todd liked his privacy too. It worked for both of us.”
“So about this money?”
“You know my baby sister Clarisse? She lives over in Bangor. Well, actually, she used to live in Bangor. She got knocked up by her boyfriend, and with the baby just about due, the son of a bitch took off. Can you believe that? Just took off without a word or a forwarding address or nothin’. There was no way she could keep the apartment, not on waitress tips. So I had her move in here with me. As you can see, I ain’t exactly Beverly Hills myself. One night, I just couldn’t hold it in anymore and started cryin’. Todd insisted on knowing why I was upset, so I told him. He immediately told me he didn’t have nobody in his life. Just him and me. He wanted to help and offered to give me some money so Clarisse and the baby would be taken care of.”
“Where is Clarisse?”
“She’s out shopping. She gets these cravings like you wouldn’t believe. She should be back in about a half hour.”
“How much did Todd give you?”