Murder by Misadventure

by B. T. Lord

Torri shook her head. “That’s the thing, Sheriff. I was actually embarrassed by Todd’s generosity. Clarisse and me don’t need that much. But he insisted on giving us $50,000. Said he wanted me out of this trailer and into a decent place, especially with the baby due any day. I didn’t want to take it. We even had a fight about it. But he won in the end. He made sure he won by bringing up Clarisse’s baby. He told me, if you won’t do it for me, do it for the baby.” Tears coursed down Torri’s round cheeks. “He was so good. Where else will you find a man who would do that for you?”

  “How long had you been dating before he made the offer?”

  “Six months. We met about 4 months after I moved up here from Massachusetts. Met at Zee’s over a burger.”

  “Oh? What part of Massachusetts are you from?”

  “Danvers. You heard of it?”

  Cammie nodded. “How did you ever stumble upon Twin Ponds to live?”

  Torri took a long sip of her tea. “My late dad was a hunter. He hunted all over Maine and New Hampshire. He used to tell me about this place. When Mom died, Clarisse and me wanted to make a brand new start. Too many memories in the old neighborhood. Since we had nothin’ holding us there, now that Mom and Dad were gone, we decided to drive around New England. I remembered this town and as soon as I saw it, I felt comfy here. Sort of like I belonged. So I rented this trailer and here I am. Ain’t much, but it’s home. You can understand that. Same thing kinda happen to you, huh?”

  ‘In a way. Tell me, Torri, did you ever visit Todd out at his cabin?”

  “Hey, I’m lucky my truck makes it to Main Street. Ain’t no way it was going to make it on those back roads to his place. That’s why I couldn’t tell you if he liked to take walks at night.”

  “Did he ever mention being nervous out there?”

  Torri narrowed her eyes at Cammie. “You thinkin’ someone did something to him?”

  “No. It was obvious he’d been drinking the morning he died.”

  Torri nodded. “I tried to get him to stop, or at least to lighten up a bit. But the booze had gotten too much under his skin.”

  “So you never went out there?”

  “Nope. Not once. Tell you the truth, I couldn’t find it if I tried. It was easier for him to come over here.”

  “Did he ever mention his interest in the paranormal?”

  Torri burst out laughing, the odor of tobacco from her open mouth hitting Cammie in the face. It took all her effort to keep from retching.

  “Paranormal? Like ghosts and stuff? You been watchin’ too many of those shows on TV, sheriff! What would make you ask a question like that?”

  “I noticed some books on the subject on Todd’s bookshelf.”

  Torri snorted. “If there’s one thing I can tell you about Todd, it’s that the man had a curiosity that just wouldn’t quit. Anybody mention a subject he didn’t know anything about, he’d load up on books just to learn about it.” She shrugged. “Maybe he found those books in a garage sale, or somethin’.”

  “So he never said anything about it to you?”

  Torri leaned over, the stench of cigarettes oozing from her pores. “Sheriff, whenever Todd came over, it wasn’t talk he was interested in, if you catch my drift.” She snorted again.

  By this time, despite the open window, the smoke was stinging Cammie’s eyes and her lungs were screaming. She had a few more questions, then she’d get out before her lungs exploded.

  “Did Todd ever talk about his life in Manchester?”

  Torri shook her head. “Nope. Never mentioned it.”

  “So you have no idea if he was able to afford the $50,000 gift.”

  Torri turned her dark eyes to Cammie. “If you’re askin’ me if I knew what he was worth, moneywise, I didn’t. It ain’t something we talked about. I figured if he was willing to just give us the money, he could afford it. Believe me, Sheriff, if I didn’t think he could afford it, I wouldn’ta taken it. In fact, I still got the bank check he give me. Haven’t cashed it yet.”

  “Any particular reason he didn’t transfer it directly to your bank account.”

  Torri lifted her shoulders. “When someone hands you a $50,000 bank check, you don’t get into particulars like that, y’know?”

  There was something in the way Torri spoke the last words that made Cammie intuitively know she wasn’t telling the truth. She decided to let it go and continued her questioning.

  “Tell me about Todd. What was he like?”

  The woman looked away, her eyes glazing over with memories. “He was shy, Sheriff. Real shy. But he had a heart of gold. Would do anything for anybody. Give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. He wasn’t much of a talker, but he had a way of letting you know he cared. Sometimes he’d come over and we’d just sit. No sex, no TV. Just sit quietly, holding hands on the sofa. Enjoyin’ each other’s company.”

  “How often would Todd come over?”

  “We didn’t have no schedule. Sometimes he’d come over three, four times a week. Sometimes once a week. Sometimes two weeks would go by before he’d show up. I’d always cook him a warm meal. He appreciated that, you know. A lot of men take that for granted. Not him.”

  “Do you have any interest in what they call doomsday prepping?”

  Torri cackled deep in her throat. “Shit, Sheriff, you honestly believe I spend my days worrying about the end of the world? I just worry about paying the rent on this little piece of paradise.”

  “Was Todd interested in doomsday prepping?”

  “If he was, I didn’t know nothin’ about it. When he wasn’t visiting here, he lived his life and I lived mine. Whatever he did in his cabin was no concern of mine. Todd was sweet, but like I said, he was private. And I didn’t pry. Which is probably why he stuck around.”

  “Have you made any plans on how you’re going to spend Todd’s gift?”

  “Clarisse and me been talking about buying a double wide. With the baby and all, this place is going to be a bit cramped. But I ain’t gotten that far yet. Still trying to wrap my head around the fact that poor Todd is gone, and my baby sister is about to become a mother.”

  Cammie got up and walked to the door. She opened it and was about to leave when she turned back to Torri.

  “By the way, when did you and Clarisse move to Twin Ponds?”

  Torri took a drag from her cigarette and thankfully blew it out of the corner of her mouth away from Cammie.

  “Mmmm. Let’s see. We’ve been here since last May.” She grinned. “Can’t think of any place I’d rather be, and that’s a fact.”

  After thanking her for her time, Cammie hurriedly left the trailer. Once outside, she took a long, deep breath of cold, fresh air. She sniffed at her parka and groaned. It smelled like she’d immersed herself in a vat of cigarette smoke.

  Crap.

  Leaving the windows of the Explorer cracked open in the hopes it would dispel the smell of tobacco clinging to her, she found herself going over the conversation with Torri as she headed into town.

  She’d readily admitted to receiving $50,000 from Todd. If it had been part of a blackmail scheme, it didn’t make sense that she would bite off the hand that was feeding her and her sister. If she had killed Todd, she’d done it without leaving a mark on the body, or in the snow surrounding the cabin and his body. Only the autopsy would tell her if he’d died by anything other than misadventure. Still, it was odd that just as he started dating Torri, he’d gone, as Rick said, all doomsday prepper. And it was odder still that he’d gone all the way to Paul’s house on the evening before his death to tell the shaman that he was now safe. Safe from what? Safe because he’d given Torri $50,000? Was his doomsday preparation and the gift to Torri related?

  And wasn’t it interesting that he’d started to see Paul about protecting himself five months ago, just after he and Torri started dating.

  Fishing out her cell from her parka pocket, she speed dialed Doc, but after trying twice, her call went to voicemail. She could only hope he was abso
rbed in Todd’s autopsy.

  Reaching the garage where Jace worked, she bypassed the front office to avoid drawing attention to the fact that she was visiting him, and let herself in through a side door.

  As usual, he was in one of the bays, his head under the hood of a truck. The smell of car oil and gasoline filled the air, as did the sounds of the radio tuned to a local rock station. Hearing her footfall over the music, he looked up and smiled broadly when he saw her. To her dismay, her heart skipped a beat.

  Damn.

  His face looked worse than it had the night before. The bruises were darker in color, shadowing his left eye and cheek. A fresh bandage covered his brow.

  “Came by to see how you’re feeling,” she said as she stood on the other side of the open hood.

  He shrugged. “Except for a headache, I’m fine.”

  “Should you even be at work?”

  “I’d go crazy sitting around Hank’s place.”

  “Emmy gave me some tea that supposed to be good for getting rid of pain. I tried it for a headache, and it worked like a charm. I’ll get you some and you can brew yourself a cup.”

  “Sure, why not?” Cammie turned to go. “Uh - say, Cam?”

  She turned back. “Yeah?”

  “Looks like we won’t be playing pick-up for at least a couple of nights. Even if the tea works, Doc still wants me to give my head a little time to heal.”

  The disappointment in his voice was palpable. Cammie nodded. “I know all about Doc insisting on his patients taking it easy. No hurry on the hockey. When you’re better.”

  She left the garage and drove down the two city blocks to HQ. Entering, she approached Emmy. She was shocked when Emmy looked up at her.

  “Em, are you alright? You look – um--”

  The young woman shrugged. “I haven’t been sleeping well these last few nights.”

  Cammie instinctively knew it was more than just lack of sleep. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear there was something eating away at Emmy. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot and her face looked unusually pale. She always greeted everyone with a smile, but now she seemed listless and preoccupied. Cammie reached out and rested her hand on Emmy’s shoulder.

  “If there’s anything bothering you, you know you can always come to me.”

  Emmy nodded. ‘I know.”

  When she didn’t say anything else, Cammie had no choice but to let it go. Instead, she asked, “Do you still have any of that tea you gave me a few days ago?”

  “Sure.” She opened her drawer and took out the baggie. “You have another headache?”

  “It’s not for me. It’s for Jace. He took a good bang to the head last night at the game and his head is aching.”

  “Then give him an extra teaspoon. That should do the trick.”

  “I’ll grab a baggie and--”

  Emmy waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. Take the bag. I can always get more.”

  “Thanks.”

  After Cammie left, Rick chuckled out loud. “I’ll lay you even odds that by the end of this month, those two lovebirds will be doing what lovebirds do best. They’re meant to be together and sooner or later our hardheaded sheriff is going to realize it.”

  Emmy nodded and turned away. If only Rick would notice who was meant to be together with him. She inwardly sighed, then turned back to her computer. At that moment, the phone rang.

  “Hey Em, Cammie here. I forgot to ask you to see what you can find on Torri and Clarisse Jackson.”

  There was a long pause. Just as Cammie was about to check to see if the connection had been dropped, she heard, “Um, like what?”

  “Oh you know, the usual. I’m curious about their backgrounds.”

  “Okay, Sheriff.”

  Emmy slowly hung up the phone.

  “Hey Emmy,” Rick replied. “I’m off to Zee’s. You want me to pick you up anything for lunch?” There was no answer. “Yo Emmy?” Still no answer. Rick got up from his desk, crossed over to the young receptionist and waved his hand in front of her face. “Earth to Emily, earth to Emily.” Emmy snapped out of it and stared at Rick. “I asked, do you want anything from Zee’s?”

  “No, I’m all set,” she whispered.

  Rick stared at her a bit longer, shrugged, and after throwing on his parka, left HQ. Emmy clasped her shaking hands in her lap and audibly moaned. Then, raising her trembling fingers over her keyboard, set about doing what the sheriff asked.

  After giving Jace the baggie of tea, Cammie climbed back into her Explorer and headed out of town. Although it was quicker to reach Paul by following the trail that snaked along Mkazawi Pond between their two cabins, the woods were covered in heavy snow. Despite owning a pair of snow shoes, Cammie lacked the energy to make the trek. She had no choice but to drive the long way around the large body of water.

  Driving alongside the dense pines that surrounded the underdeveloped pond, she found herself thinking of all the times she’d walked the woods towards Paul’s home. He’d been her refuge growing up and she’d lost count of the many cups of chamomile tea laced with honey he’d greet her with when she’d shown up unannounced on his doorstep. Now that she thought about it, she realized that he seemed to know when she was going to show up because the tea would be brewed and a cup would be awaiting her.

  He’d always been a fixture in her life, even in those fifteen years when she’d left Twin Ponds. Despite the occasional exchange of Christmas cards, there had been an indelible chord that bound them together. Upon her return to the town of her birth, one of the first people she’d looked up was Paul. She recalled noticing that his hair was greyer, but other than that, he looked exactly the same. And just as in her childhood, despite the passage of years, he’d had a cup of tea waiting for her, and it was as though no time had passed between them.

  There was no sign indicating which turnoff was his. As it was, his mailbox was hidden in among a thick brace of bushes. Yet the mailman and the locals knew exactly where he lived. He was renowned for his healing abilities and his gentle counsel, as well as his uncanny gift of speaking with spirit as he called it. Cammie wasn’t sure how she felt about the subject of the paranormal, but she believed in Paul. He wasn’t a fortune teller and turned away anyone who came to find out if they’d meet the perfect mate or if they’d win the lottery. His gifts lay in helping people find their way through the maze of their life, offering advice and healings to remove obstacles and blocks and, many times, self-imposed fears that prevented people from living life to the fullest.

  He’d been indispensable in helping Cammie find her own way in the midst of the disintegration of her parents’ marriage, and in the aftermath of what happened between her and Eli Kelley. He’d been her touchstone, offering a strong shoulder when everything else in her life appeared ready to wash away. She was never frightened when she was in his presence. Which was why she was stunned when she pulled into the small clearing outside his cabin and saw him with his hands up in the air, his eyes closed, his body swaying as he chanted aloud in that strange language he used – a language he called “The Words of the Ancients”.

  He didn’t appear to hear her and she watched, mesmerized as he continued to chant, turning in a circle while intoning towards the heavens. With his back to her, he leaned down and picked up an abalone shell. It was smoking heavily and she guessed he was burning sage, a gift he’d once told her came from the Native Americans that helped clear a space or a person of negative energies.

  Paul picked up two feathers which Cammie instantly recognized. Both had been gifts – one from an Alaskan eagle, the other from a South American condor. She recalled his recounting of the legend concerning the Eagle and the Condor. The Eagle, representing the Northern Hemisphere, stood for all things connected to the mind, while the Condor, representing the Southern Hemisphere, was more about emotions. Yet each could not stand alone. Both were needed for things to be accomplished. Therefore, when the day came that the Eagle and the Condor were united, there would be pe
ace and harmony on earth. The races would merge and mind and heart would become one.

  With the world in the state it was in, Cammie wasn’t expecting that day to come any time soon. Still, she continued to observe as he crossed the two feathers and carefully swiped the sage smoke with the feathers around the perimeter of his cabin. When he turned towards the road, he saw her truck. He nodded to her, but continued to sage. She waited until he returned to where he’d started before she turned off the truck and got out. She started to greet him, but he held up his hand and she stopped mid-word. He came up to her and began to carefully sage her. When he was done, he put his hand on top of her head and once more spoke in the tongue twisting language that was his. Finally, he appeared to be done. Before she could ask, he looked at her with his deep, almost black eyes.

  “Darkness is coming, Cammie. And we must be prepared.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Cammie was scared because Paul was scared. Or at least she assumed he was scared. He never showed any emotion other than peaceful equanimity. But he had to be scared. Why else do that ceremony on his front lawn? She’d seen him sage before, but never with the intensity he’d just shown. And what about his remark about darkness coming? What the hell was that all about? Well, if he wasn’t scared, she was scared enough for both of them.

  She sat in his tiny cabin with the mug of tea in her hand, waiting for him to say something. Anything. But he remained silent. Instead, he continued to sage the doors and windows, chanting quietly under his breath. He then placed several large, rectangular shaped quartz crystals in a grid on a table beneath one of the windows that faced out over Mkazawi Pond. Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore and spoke up.

  “Paul, what did you mean about the darkness coming? And just what are you doing with the sage and crystals?”

  For a moment she thought he was ignoring her as he focused his attention fully on the grid he was creating with the crystals. He raised one hand over the center of the pattern, and with the other, placed it over his heart. It almost looked as though he were saying the pledge of allegiance to a circle of crystals. Once more he intoned a prayer. Just as she was about to speak again, he turned to her.