Heron Park

by C. K. Raggio

  Rick stood against the wall his hands clasped in front of him. He stuck a thumb up to let her know she was doing good, and to keep the man talking. Mason seemed hesitant, she needed to make him comfortable.

  A picture on a hall table caught her eye. In the photo a young couple held hands in front of a field of wild flowers. It was in black and white, but it wasn’t hard to imagine the colors of nature behind them. “Is this your wife?”

  Mason rose like a coiled spring from the low seat. “That’s my Chelsea. She was a looker, huh? Tall, blonde, and beautiful inside and out. You remind me of her – you look like her I mean.”

  His eyes lit up for a moment, then an air of sadness seemed to fill the room. “She’s been gone two years, three months and thirteen days. Can’t help but count. I know the hours too, figured you might think I was a crazy old man if I added those in.”

  Bingo. “No, we wouldn’t. My mother died when I was three, my dad does the same thing.” She looked back at the picture and smiled. “You weren’t so bad yourself, Mr. Mason. It’s obvious why she fell in love with you.”

  His shoulders drooped. Guilt riddled his face. “Yeah, maybe. Please, call me Kurt.” Rick gave Cassie an approving nod.

  Mason pulled up the shades on the window as he passed them. The early afternoon sun streamed in, seeming to bring the house to life.

  The hand-carved antiques in the sitting room were probably worth more than Cassie’s house. A fresh scent of lemon oil wafted from the shining surfaces.

  Cassie needed to keep the momentum going forward. Make him relax. There was a certain respect you had to give to fellow law enforcement. They couldn’t just start drilling him. That would put him on the defensive. “You have some amazing pieces of furniture and everything is so –”

  “Clean, right?” Kurt cut in. “My Chelsea would be haunting my dreams if it wasn’t. Thought she’d break the bank for sure, going into those musty shops once a month.” He pulled a chair out from the breakfast table. “Please, have a seat.”

  Cassie and Rick sat in the western-style chairs while Kurt made his way to a single cup coffee maker. Cassie grinned. The white plastic and bright buttons looked so high-tech amongst the red antique appliances.

  Kurt glanced at her. “My daughter gets me some crazy contraption every year for Christmas. Have an attic full of all kinds of nutty things. This one I actually like. Never have to worry about drinking old, cold coffee when I come in from the barn. Would you like a cup?”

  They both asked for coffee, black, and waited the few minutes as he prepared their cups. He took a seat across from them. “Those the pictures you’d like me to look at?” he asked, motioning toward the photos Rick had placed face down on the tabletop.

  Rick nodded. “Yes, sir. They were in an upstairs bedroom closet at the White’s house.” He pushed them across the oak table, under the squinting man’s line of sight. “Would you be able to tell us who they are?”

  Kurt studied the first one, his face blank. “This is Gary, that baby is his son Dave, and the girl… was his fiancée before she, um… passed away.”

  He went to the next one before they could ask him any questions. His eye twitched. “The older boy is Gary White, at about twelve, and the younger is Steven Bailey. Think he’s seven here. Steven’s dad, Jack was my best friend.” He stared off.

  Cassie held her tongue.

  Kurt tapped his foot, rose and walked to the cupboard. He poured a shot of whiskey into his mug and took a long gulp. “I want to warn you I may go overboard with the details, that’s just the way my old brain works. I hope you have some extra tapes for your recorder. I’m assuming you’d like to tape this?” He took another swig of his spiked coffee and moved back to his chair.

  Rick produced a digital recorder from his pocket. “Take your time.” He hit the record button.

  Kurt took a shaky breath and, staring at his coffee mug, began his tale.

  CHAPTER 29

  Cassie’s mind swirled. Kurt hadn’t been kidding when he told them he was detailed. She scribbled dates and occupations on her notepad. He was all over the place: full names, maiden names, neighbor’s names. She needed to get him to focus on the Bailey’s. “Kurt, I’m sorry to interrupt, but can I make sure I have everything straight so far?”

  He fidgeted with the collar on his flannel. “Please.”

  “You went to high school with both the Whites and the Baileys. Your best friend Jack Bailey moved to Georgia for a time and came back with a wife named Vanessa.”

  “So far you got it.” His hand shook as he took a sip of his coffee. He coughed then cleared his throat. “Vanessa wasn’t well liked. She was a loner, but at gatherings, she’d get drunk and mean. Insulted people, acted like she was better than everyone else. About a year after Jack brought her home they had Steven.”

  That’s what she was waiting for.

  Kurt paused. He stared down at the tabletop. “On Steven’s fifth birthday, Jack had a party for him. The kids played in a small stream, soaking their clothes. Vanessa offered to get them changed. She was gone for a while, and my wife, Chelsea, went to check on them. She followed Vanessa’s voice to the master bedroom. She heard…” Tears streamed down his face and onto his lap.

  “Take your time,” Rick said.

  Cassie gave Kurt’s hand a squeeze.

  Kurt’s shoulders sagged deeper toward the table. “My wife heard Vanessa moaning. She forced open the door, found her naked with Steven and Gary spread out on the bed like some sick offering to the gods. She was touching them… playing with their genitals.” His chest heaved and he quietly sobbed.

  Rick glanced at her, disgust lined his face. Cassie fought back her own tears. Whenever she heard of an adult molesting a child she thought of Sam and the horrors he went through.

  “My son, Randy, stood watching in the corner, still in his dripping wet clothes. Chelsea asked what the hell she was doing. Vanessa stopped, turned to my wife and asked if she’d like to join in the fun.”

  A gasp slipped from Cassie’s lips. Vanessa didn’t only deserve to be locked away forever, she needed a straightjacket.

  Rick opened his mouth as if to say something, then shut it, leaning back in his chair.

  Kurt rubbed his arm. “Jack begged me not to bring her in. He said she was sick, mentally needed help. That was my first mistake of many, listening to him. But he pleaded, cried. He was my best friend.”

  Cassie’s muscles twitched. How could he not report her?

  “Wrong, I know, but at the time we rationalized that it would be best for Steven and Gary. I’d seen first hand what those trials did to kids, especially back then. What the tests performed by the hospitals do. The questions, having to relive all the trauma in front of dozens of people you didn’t know. The stares, the accusations, being called a liar. In a town this small, everybody would know. The kids wouldn’t have a chance of a normal life.”

  A glimmer of understanding touched her. When Sam had gotten out of the hospital he was a cardboard cutout of his normal self. A shell. She’d learned in classes what the victims were put through when it comes to the tests in the hospital. They seemed more torturous than the rape itself.

  “I helped Jack put her in a mental institution the next day. She escaped three years later, on Steven’s eighth birthday. She snuck into his bedroom in the middle of the night and put a gun in his hand. Told him to shoot her, to kill her, or she’d tell the men waiting in the woods to come take him away. Probably a scare tactic she’d used on him before. He killed her with the first shot.”

  Rick took a sip of his coffee. “Wouldn’t the story have come out after that?”

  “No. We covered it up. Made it look like suicide.”

  Cassie couldn’t believe it. She knew Kurt was going to tell them something horrible, but she hadn’t expected anything like this. “What happened to Steven?”

  “Steven was always kind of a dark and quiet kid. Now we all understood why. But he grew worse after that night. We all felt
bad for him, so we let things go we probably would’ve put other kids under psych evaluations for. He went to a counselor who I’d known for a long time. George Brink. He knew the whole story, but Steven was good at hiding his really dark side. George has been dead about four years now, so unfortunately, you can’t talk to him.”

  “What kind of things did Steven do?” She held back her anger. Yelling at Kurt, telling him what an ass he’d been, wouldn’t help anyone now. From the pain in his eyes, he already knew that anyway.

  Kurt blew his nose into a handkerchief. “We taught all the boys how to hunt and fish. Took trips all the time. Probably why it only took one shot for Steven to kill his mother, but he never fired a gun after that day. He used knives. I stopped bringing my own boy hunting after he told me Steven skinned a rabbit alive and played with its insides. Gary had watched and laughed, helped him hold it down. I spoke with Jack about it and he punished him. We hoped they’d stop. But I’m afraid all we did was teach them to do it when nobody was around.”

  Steven knew how to hunt, tortured animals and his mother not only molested him, but made him kill her. Steven and Gary were best friends. This had to be their guy. The trauma this kid went through and nobody admitting it happened, it made Cassie sick. “Was there anything else besides the animal torture?”

  The lines in Kurt’s wrinkled face seemed to grow deeper. He shifted in his chair. “Susan Tanner.”

  Cassie held her breath. The woman in the photo they’d shown him earlier? Gary’s fiancée?

  “I’m getting ahead of myself.” Kurt sighed. “Steven did seem to improve at one point. On his ninth birthday his father bought him a tan and white Jack Russell terrier. He named it Hercules. The two were inseparable from the day they laid eyes on each other.”

  What about Susan? Cassie went to interrupt him but stopped. A dog was a huge part of what their guy was. Maybe this would explain it.

  “He trained the dog for ratting, brought him to barns all over the county. Hell, I was his first customer. I think I still have the picture somewhere of that eleven-pound dog, surrounded by seventy dead rats. It was absurd. Word spread fast, and though the dog made a few mistakes and killed a few barn cats, he became legendary in these parts, and so did Steven. About the same time, a young girl, Susan Tanner, moved in. She was held back two grades and put in Steven’s class. He introduced her to Gary and the three were rarely out of each other’s sight after that.”

  “How old were they at this point?” Rick asked.

  “Steven was about ten, I think.”

  Kurt stood and poured more coffee into his cup, then he poured in more whiskey. “A few years later, Gary and Susan decided they wanted to be more than friends. It was easy for anyone to see Steven was in love with Susan, and how jealous he was of the relationship. That only became worse when Susan and Gary got pregnant.”

  “With Dave?” Cassie asked.

  Kurt rocked back and forth in his chair. “Yup. When Steven found out she would be having a baby, he told his dad he needed to blow off some steam and took Hercules hunting. He was attacked by a bear on that trip. His dog saved his life, launched his tiny body at the bear and put a death grip on her nose. Startled it enough so Steven could get away, but she swiped a paw at the dog and killed him. I swear Steven never smiled again, at least not a real smile. He went to work helping his dad train dogs. Took a few days every year to the forest looking for that bear.”

  Cassie stopped writing and leaned forward. Freaking kid couldn’t catch a break. “What happened to Susan?”

  “In 1992, when Dave was five-years-old, and two months before Susan and Gary were to marry, she disappeared. A few weeks later, Steven’s father passed away as well.”

  Rick’s head snapped up from his notebook. “What do you mean she disappeared?”

  Kurt wiped his nose with his handkerchief. “Steven was the last person who saw her. He said Susan called and told him she was leaving Gary. She didn’t want to get married. Steven, of course, said he ran right over and tried to talk her out of it. He was able to get her to leave Dave behind, but he wasn’t able to make her stay. Susan gave him a letter for Gary and left. The letter was short, messy, but in her handwriting. It said she was too young to get married and she was headed south. Don’t bother looking for her.”

  “Did you believe Steven’s story?” Cassie asked.

  He looked them in the eyes for what seemed to be the first time since they’d sat down. “No. I didn’t believe a word he said. The kid had everyone else fooled. I didn’t have proof of anything different. Two months after his father passed, Steven went for his yearly hunt for that bear. He took a cooler, a knapsack, and a few of his prized dogs. It was the last time anyone saw him again.”

  Kurt wrapped his hands tight around his mug. “A ranger found his jacket, shredded and covered in blood. But no sign of Steven, his dogs, or the rest of his things, were ever found. Most folks round here say he finally found the bear that killed his terrier and it took his life as well.”

  So he could be dead. Cassie tapped her pen against the table. “What do you think happened to him?”

  “Honestly. I think he killed Susan Tanner, and I think he faked his death to be sure he got away with it. From the looks on your faces, I’d say he’s advanced from killing and torturing small animals, to killing and torturing people.”

  Cassie and Rick exchanged a glance. Images of the dead women, of Izzy especially, flew through Cassie’s brain. If Steven was their guy, and if Kurt had done what he was supposed to when he was still just a boy, would their killer have been active? Would Izzy still be alive?

  Rick cleared his throat and shut off the recorder. “Sir, I’d like to share with you the story on why we’re here. I think you may be able to help us.”

  He pushed up his sleeves. “After all these years of feeling as though I hadn’t done my job, I’d love to help you in any way I can.”

  Cassie rubbed the back of her neck. Why did Kurt all of a sudden seem so in control? She got a feeling he wasn’t telling them something. Or could it be the liquor mixed with getting this story off his chest giving him strength? Kurt had been a sheriff and he hadn't done what he’d been sworn to. He should’ve arrested Vanessa, should’ve told the right people when he realized Steven wasn’t right in the head.

  Her understanding for Kurt trying to protect his best friend was diminishing at a rapid rate. He should’ve done his job. Izzy would probably still be alive if he did.

  ~~~

  Rick didn’t know how he felt about Kurt Mason. The man seemed genuinely distraught about not coming clean sooner on his array of secrets. But he’d told most of his story with his gaze trained on just about everything but Cassie and Rick. It seemed something else was hidden under the veil of his eyes.

  He was staring at Cassie now, though, as she described the latest victim. Her partner. More tears from him. “What do you think, Kurt?”

  “Like I said earlier, Steven was always the ring leader, the one with all the ideas. Gary wouldn’t have the smarts or abilities to pull that off alone. As kids, it was always Gary’s fault if they got caught. He was a God-awful liar. Plus, Gary was good with training animals, but not near in the same way as Steven was. I don’t believe he could get an animal to do the things you’re talking about. Especially if the animal needed to be taught a controlled aggression like you’re talking about.”

  “Why is that?” Cassie asked.

  “Well, Gary had a heavy hand. Dogs, especially intelligent ones anyhow, never had any respect for him. He’d tell them to come and they’d run the other way. Can’t tell you how many times the boy got bit. He could train a lab without much trouble. Not saying they’re dumb, but with good breeding they’d rarely turn on their owner. They have thick skin, and to them human contact is human contact, whether good or bad.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a problem for the assistance dogs Gary trains?”

  “It could be if he had them from pups, but all the grunt work is done by volunt
eers. He doesn’t get those dogs back until they’re twelve to eighteen months old. He does the last leg of training. Though, if he hit the wrong dog it could cause some later problems.”

  How did Kurt know all of this? Rick thought back to the conversation him and Cassie had with Gary at the center. “Are you the one that gave him the loan for his business?”

  Kurt nodded. “I learned everything I could about how the business was run before I agreed. The boy paid me back in full within a few years. I was hoping it would help keep him out of trouble. Guess I was wrong.”

  The pieces were coming together. Time to switch Kurt’s thinking back to Steven. “Tell me a little more on why you think Steven faked his death.”

  “Well, the whole thing with Susan Tanner never sat well with me. Steven could sell off the worst areas of Staten Island as a five star Caribbean resort, so it was easy for him to have everyone thinking he was just a concerned friend. But with all he went through, the torturing of animals, and the way he looked at Gary and Susan when he thought no one was looking… it threw up red flags for me.”

  Kurt stared at his hands. “I found it strange Susan didn’t take anything with her. No clothing, nothing. Steven said it was because she said none of it belonged to her. My instincts told me otherwise. I think he killed her. If he couldn’t have her, nobody would.”

  Sipping his cold coffee, Rick stole a glance at Cassie. Her lips were set in a tight line over her teeth. He figured she was having some trouble talking to a man who could have prevented the death and heartache before it had even begun. Thank God he hadn’t brought Phil with him. There was no way he would’ve been able to control his emotions.

  She cleared her throat. “What about Steven’s dad? You mentioned he died two months after Susan disappeared. How did it happen?”