by B. T. Lord
“That is not what is happening. I’m tying up loose ends, that’s all. If Doc comes back with a verdict of death by misadventure, then I’ll give it up. Until then, there are some questions I’d like some answers to.”
“So, you thinking of going over to Torri’s and confronting her with this?”
“I’d at least like to know why she lied to me. Care to come?”
Rick shook his head. “I’ll pass.”
Cammie smiled. “You seeing Clover and Daisy tonight?”
“That’s Lavender and Jasmine. And yes, I do have a date with them tonight.”
She hopped off Emmy’s desk and started towards her office. “Well, if you can tear your mind away from the Flower Twins, could you find me Dwayne’s number? I’d like to ask him a few questions.”
She paused, then turned back towards Rick. “By the way, have you noticed anything wrong with Emmy lately?”
“Yeah,” the deputy nodded. “She’s been – I don’t know – like she’s not here. Physically yes, mentally no.”
“She hasn’t said anything to you, has she?”
“Nope.” He paused. “Do you want me to see if I can get her to talk?”
Cammie sighed. “No. She knows we’re here for her if something is going on.”
Emmy wanted to throw up. If she could have, she would. But she had nothing in her stomach. Because she hadn’t been able to eat. Because she wanted to throw up.
She stood in the back of the Emporium, the mail for the Sheriff’s Department tucked under the arm of her coat. If anyone saw her standing there, they’d think she was trying to decide between buying some devil dogs or spray paint. In fact, Emmy’s mind was a million miles away, in the land of nausea and worry.
It was never supposed to be this way. What in heaven’s name have I gotten myself into?
“Anything I can help you with?”
She uttered a strangled cry as she quickly backed up right into the cereal display behind her. Lars stared down at her. “You okay, Emmy? You’re looking like you seen a ghost.”
She numbly shook her head. “I – I better get back to HQ,” she muttered before she slipped past Lars and practically ran out the door.
“Sheriff must be working that girl too hard,” Lars said aloud to himself before he turned his attention to straightening the cereal Emmy had knocked over.
Emmy stood on the sidewalk, desperation overwhelming her. She had to talk to somebody or she’d explode.
With shaking hands, she picked up her cell and dialed. After two rings, it was picked up.
“Hi, this is Emmy. I hope I’m not bothering you, but it’s really important. I’m so confused and I need to ask you some questions.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cammie was on her way to Torri’s, singing at the top of her lungs to an old Pink Floyd song when her cell rang.
“Sheriff Farnsworth speaking,” she replied as she turned down the volume on the radio and flipped the phone open.
“Hey Sheriff, it’s Dwayne O’Reilly. Boss said you called.”
“I did. Thanks for calling me back. I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions regarding Torri Jackson.”
Before she could continue, Dwayne let out a groan. “That woman is insane, Sheriff! I mean, don’t get me wrong – I like my women feisty. But she takes feisty to a whole ‘nother level.”
“So I hear. I don’t really need a blow by blow –“ she abruptly stopped when she heard Dwayne snickering on the other end of the phone. “Okay, let me rephrase that. I just need to know how long you’ve been seeing Torri.”
“We haven’t exactly been seeing each other, Sheriff. I went to Lar’s Emporium the other night to pick up some smokes. He’s my cousin and depending on his mood, sometimes he’ll give me a break on price. Torri was there picking up the same. We got to talking, which led to her inviting me back to her trailer, where one thing led to another and she almost killed me.”
“Metaphorically speaking, of course.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.”
“That’s the first and last time I seen her. And I do mean the last time. My back is still curved like a fuc – I mean -- friggin’ pretzel.”
“Did she happen to mention a man named Todd Paradis to you at all?”
“Ain’t that the dude who froze to death? Heard about it from Lars. Nope, she didn’t mention him at all. In fact, we didn’t do much talking, if you know what I mean.”
“What time did you get to Torri’s, and what time did you leave?” There was an abrupt silence on the other end. For a moment, Cammie thought he’d hung up. “Hello, Dwayne?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Look Sheriff, why you asking me all these questions? I mean, Torri may be a crazy bitch in bed, but I don’t want to get her into any trouble.”
“Don’t worry Dwayne. What you’re telling me isn’t causing her any problems. I’m talking to everyone who knew Todd. She was close to him, so I’m trying to develop a timeline for what happened the night he died.”
“Oh okay. I think I got to her house around seven. We had our fun. I left there around eight the next morning, after she made me some breakfast.”
“Do you happen to remember if her sister Clarisse was there?”
“She was sitting on the couch when I got there. I had to help her get up. Poor thing looks like she’s having triplets, she’s so big.”
“What about when you left in the morning?”
“Sheriff, I was too busy worrying about being able to walk out of there without crutches. Last thing on my mind was a woman with a belly the size of a blimp.”
“Thanks Dwayne, you’ve been a big help.”
“You sure I’m not getting her in any trouble?”
“Not at all.”
Cammie hung up. Luna found the body around six-thirty. She, Rick and Doc were on the scene by seven forty-five. Dwayne confirmed he’d been with Torri until eight am. To all extents and purposes, that exonerated her from having anything to do with Todd’s death. And if Clarisse did look like she was about to give birth to a blimp, she couldn’t see her traipsing around Todd’s cabin. However, none of this exonerated Torri from lying to Cammie. Or perhaps extorting $50,000 from Todd.
Despite her promise to Doc to only work half days, she’d never rest until she resolved that issue. Arriving at Torri’s, she saw another car pulled up next to Torri’s Dodge and wondered if her pregnant sister was home.
She went up the short steps and was in the process of raising her hand to knock when the door swung open and Torri stood there. She had the proverbial cigarette butt in her mouth, ashes staining the front of her t-shirt, this time adorned with a picture of the overly stretched Grinch.
“Back so soon, Sheriff? You forget something?”
Cammie didn’t mince words. Instead, she fixed Torri with a steady stare. “You forgot to tell me Todd was gay. Or that you almost broke Dwayne O’Reilly’s back. Really, Torri. Four times? Isn’t that a bit greedy? ”
Cammie had to hand it to Torri. The woman didn’t flinch, or look surprised. Didn’t even acknowledge that she’d been caught in a lie. Instead, she opened the trailer door further.
“Come on in before you freeze.”
Cammie entered the trailer, suspicious of Torri’s calm demeanor. She stood by the door, her arms crossed against her chest and eyed Torri, who coolly eyed her back.
“Don’t suppose you want a cup of tea?”
“No. What I’d like is an explanation of why you lied to me.”
“It’s my fault.”
Cammie turned and saw Clarisse come out of the bathroom. Despite her resolve, her eyes were immediately drawn to the woman’s belly. Dwayne hadn’t been exaggerating. In contrast to Torri’s overly plump figure, Clarisse was rail thin except for the huge swollen belly that was barely contained in a tight white t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. Her long dyed blonde hair was tousled, as if she’d just gotten out of bed. She waddled down the short corridor, and plopped herself down
in the nearest chair. She lifted her pale blue eyes and glared at Cammie.
“Look, if it’s anybody’s fault that Torri lied, it’s mine. I asked her to do it in case anybody found out about the money.”
“Why?”
“Cos it isn’t anybody’s business, okay?” she snapped testily. “People talk. I’m tired of people mouthing off, not knowing what the hell they’re talking about.”
Torri sighed and looked at Cammie. “Look sheriff, it’s like this. Todd was a nice guy. He was quiet and shy and didn’t like people very much. But he liked us. Probably cos we didn’t judge him. He’d come over once in a while, and have some coffee or spend time. He was lonely, you know? When he found out Clarisse was pregnant, he wanted to help. At first we told him no. But look at the way we live. There’s no way we could make it without his help. So we accepted it.”
Cammie turned to Clarisse. “Who’s the father of your baby?”
Clarisse’s glare turned deadly. She struggled to stand up. When she finally got to her feet, she stuck her finger in Cammie’s face. “Get away from me, pig. I don’t have to answer any of your nosy questions.”
Turning on her heel, she went down the short corridor and noisily slammed the bedroom door behind her. Cammie glanced back to Torri, who looked embarrassed at her sister’s behavior.
“I’m sorry about that. Ever since her boyfriend took off, she’s been in an awful mood. I’m thinking it’s the hormones. And the fact that he was an asshole for dumping her.”
“Is there a name for this asshole?”
Torri sniffed contemptuously. “Good luck finding him. I heard through the grapevine Clarisse isn’t the only woman he’s knocked up and taken off on. Seems to be a habit of his. There are at least three women trying to find him for child support. But if it helps, his name is Charlie Busby.” She sighed. “Poor Clarisse. She never did have any taste in men.” She took another drag of her cigarette. “I swear to you, Sheriff, I’m telling you the truth. Todd wanted to help. Plain and simple. We weren’t forcing him or anything, if that’s what you’re after. He was such a private guy, he would have been mortified if it got around town that he was gay. I know it’s crazy. Nobody cares about that stuff anymore. But that was him. Even though he’s gone doesn’t mean we shouldn’t still respect his privacy. I’m sorry he’s dead. We’re both sorry he’s dead. He was a gentleman. You don’t meet many of them these days.”
There was something off about this whole situation. But damned if Cammie could figure out what it was. And Torri was right. There was nothing overtly illegal about their relationship with Todd. Nor was there anything overtly illegal about him giving them $50,000 for the baby. If they were blackmailing him, she had no way to prove it.
Yet Cammie’s bullshit antenna was on full alert. She glanced at Torri and just knew she wasn’t being completely honest. Still, there was nothing she could do. She had no choice but to swallow her frustration.
“Todd left no information on any family to contact. Did he ever mention any relatives? Someone we should inform of his death?”
Torri shrugged. “Like I said, he was a very private guy. He never talked about Manchester. To tell you the truth, I got the sense there were some painful memories there.” Torri took another long drag from her cigarette. “If you need someone to arrange the funeral, Clarisse and me would like to do that. It’s the least we can do for him. I’d also like to arrange a funeral for that lady that went crazy. I heard her ex refuses to claim her body.” Torri shook her head. “Even if you’re a shit in life, you should still be given some sort of decent burial.”
“I’ll tell Doc. Thanks for your time.”
It was dark by the time Cammie let herself out of the trailer and climbed into her Explorer. She was just pulling out when she saw another car pulling in. She watched as the car parked near the trailer. Two figures got out and quickly entered. There wasn’t enough light to see who they were and for a moment, Cammie was tempted to return.
But what would she say? It wasn’t illegal to have friends stop by for a visit. And she wasn’t about to embarrass herself by peeking through the windows to see what the four were up to. There was a fine line between investigating and harassing. Right now, she was teetering towards harassment. She did, however, pull out of the driveway in such a way that she had a look at the license plate number reflected in her headlights which, when she was out of sight, recited the number into her phone.
Traveling along the murky roads towards town, Todd’s death continued to nag at her. There was only one set of boot prints in the snow. Unless Torri and Clarisse had figured out a way to lure him outside of his cabin and get him so turned around that he ended up a half a mile from his home, all the while doing it without leaving any prints in the snow, she should give it up. Besides, Clarisse looked as though she was ready to give birth any minute. Cammie couldn’t see her traipsing through the wilderness. Nor for that matter, could she see Torri doing that as well. With all the weight she was carrying, she’d die of a heart attack before she got three feet. The more she looked at it, the more she kept hitting dead ends.
She’d done all she could. Once she got the official cause of death from Doc and anything Emmy was able to dig up, she would let it go, despite the bullshit antenna still vibrating.
As if he knew she was anxiously awaiting his results, Doc called.
“I finished the autopsy. There were no wounds on the body, nothing that changes my original opinion of death by misadventure. Unless we hear differently on the toxicology report, that’s what I’m going with.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
She hung up and sighed.
That was that. There was no proof Todd had been blackmailed. There was no proof he’d died of anything other than exposure. The case was closed and there was nothing she could do about it.
A few nights later, despite her resolve to close the case, she was still mulling it over. It just seemed too coincidental that both Marcy and Todd had died in such unusual circumstances. One seeing aliens and the other – God knows what he saw. If there was one thing Cammie hated, besides being lied to, was a coincidence. She didn’t believe in them. But her hands were tied. All she could do was mull it over. Which is what she was doing.
Although Doc still preferred Jace not play hockey, he hadn’t forbidden him to ice skate. He and Cammie were now effortlessly gliding along side by side on the moonlit Waban pond. As far as Cammie was concerned, this was still exercise and she enjoyed the feel of floating across the ice on her ice skates. They weren’t going fast, allowing them to talk while they skated.
“You’ve been preoccupied all night,” Jace replied. “Are you still thinking about Todd and Marcy?”
Cammie sighed deeply, sending tendrils of mist out in front of her. “Rick says I can’t let it go because I’m bored.”
“Are you?”
“I took this job because I knew it would be fairly quiet. I’ve had my fill of intense nights filled with shootouts and car chases.”
“I know how thorough you are, but sometimes you just can’t tie up an investigation with a red bow. Sometimes, it will be left with loose ends.”
“That’s what Doc said. The life of a cop…”
Feeling her frustration, Jace wondered if perhaps Rick was right. Maybe Cammie was bored on some level, and the deaths of Todd and Marcy were anchors for her. Although outwardly she appeared recovered from her shooting, it had to leave some emotional scars. Shit, that whole business with Eli left enough emotional scars for everyone. Maybe this was a symptom. Maybe she needed something to keep her mind occupied so she wouldn’t dwell on what had happened to her four months before. She’d almost died then. That would be enough to affect anyone.
And what happened between them didn’t help matters either.
Jace ached to take her hand. He wanted to console her and hold her and tell her everything would be okay. But they were still trapped in this dance of back and forth, friends or not friends. There were moments he’d see
the longing in her eyes of going back to what they’d had. Sometimes he’d even seen her unconsciously reach out before yanking her hand back. He’d hoped these nights of being together would begin to poke a hole in the wall she’d built up around herself. At times, he thought he’d breached them, only to realize moments later that he was still alone on the other side. Away from her.
Patience. He had to have patience. It was the only way he could win her back. For now, he’d be there for her, if only just to talk. And skate with.
A banging caught their attention. Turning, they saw Doc on the edge of the pond, banging the ice with Cammie’s hockey stick and waving at them.
“Now what’s that all about?” she asked.
“Obviously he has something to tell you. Either that, or he’s suddenly decided he wants skating lessons.”
Cammie chuckled. “I’m not sure Armani makes ice skates.”
They glided over and stopped in front of him.
“Now I know why you like this stick,” Doc commented as he waved it about. “Makes a great weapon.”
“You called us over to tell me that?” Cammie asked.
“No. I called you over because I got the results of the toxicology report on Marcy. But if you’d prefer to finish doing your Dorothy Hamill imitation…”
Cammie swallowed her retort. Doc’s crankiness had only increased over the past week and she thought it best not to poke the beast. Instead, she and Jace quickly put on their boots and followed Doc into the house. There, in front of the cozy fire he had roaring in his stone fireplace, he laid out the paperwork on the coffee table. Cammie picked up the nearest sheet and scanned it quickly.
She frowned when she saw something she’d never seen before in the hundreds of autopsy reports she’d studied over the years.
“Salvia--” she started, only to be interrupted by Doc.
“With all your talk about Marcy seeing aliens, it piqued my curiosity. I therefore asked the lab to run tests they don’t normally run. They found traces of a substance called salvia timor in her system. Before you ask, I sent samples from Todd and asked them to run the same tests.”