by B. L Wilson
This is a beautiful layout. Liz glanced around the construction site and noted the scenery. Owen Drummond had great vision when it came to natural landscapes. It was too bad he and his friends didn’t want to share their vision with their low-income neighbors, she mused. She could see why he and his developer friends selected this site. It sat off the main road about of a sixteenth of a mile. That much land before a visitor arrived at the mall required great landscaping or leaving the trees and rocks untouched to make them a natural part of the mall site.
The billboard rendering of the mall looked like the developers intended to leave the land in its original setting and fit the mall into it. The trees provided a lovely, shady backdrop for the mall. The land itself was interesting in that it contained a large grassy field with wild strawberries, elderberries, ground cherries, and raspberries.
She could smell the wild fruits ripening as she walked back to watch her brother cast the tire treads. Mixed in with the wild fruit were large patches of purple flowers that Liz couldn’t identity. She thought they might be weeds. The purple flowers shared the field with the acres of dandelions, Queen Anne’s lace, and pale yellow and pink roses interspersed among the grass and pebbles.
The land looked level except where Skipper found the droplets of blood and the tire tracks. That was where the ground was more uneven and dropped down to form an embankment. When she followed the embankment to the end, it led to the rocky back road that led away from the construction site and into town. The old access road passed behind several backyards and Liz wondered if it would be worthwhile asking the residents if they’d seen anybody using the road the night of the explosion.
It was dark that night. The only reason Danny and she could see someone running was the dark outline they made against the light grayish-beige foundation. The moon wasn’t out that night, so it made identifying the figure difficult. The most Liz could say was that the figure ran like a short man in hurry. The figure made short strides and quick bursts of speed. Coupled with the ensuing chaos of the explosion, Liz couldn’t say for sure where he zoomed off when they spotted him that night. The brown stains she and Skipper found belonged to him or he caused the brown stains. Once Jake finished his castings, she’d walk this thing through with him until she answered the questions roaming around in her head.
Skipper lay down with his head on his paws as he watched Liz and Jake play out several scenarios involving the arson and the murder at the site. They measured the distance from where they found the bullet casing to the brown spatters and the two footprints. They were trying to flesh out the physical details, such as the height of the two men. How much they weighed. Whether the men favored their right or left hands and who killed whom. The drag marks in the grass caught their interest too. They tried to estimate how much a man would weigh and how big his body would have to be to bend the grass as it was.
The tire treads leading to the back road might tell them something about the killer if they could find the truck. This was going to be difficult because the community had farmers, gardeners, and people employed in construction, all of whom drove trucks and were potential suspects.
Another problem reared its ugly head. Although the black skid marks stood out against stones and gravel on the dusty road, her brother didn’t think the treads were distinct enough to trace. The treads didn’t have the same unique defect the sneaker treads did. They could only hope the soil and pebbles from the site or the access road was unusual enough to show up in the truck treads. They also prayed that more of the blood droppings found their way into the killer’s truck and that he hadn’t cleaned the vehicle yet. She wondered where the bloody body was. Had the killer already disposed of it? Did he need to kill again to remove witnesses or potential witnesses? Who were the witnesses, if any existed? She rubbed her chin, wishing she had the answers.
The two Gilmores left the site exhausted and depressed. They had more questions than answers, but they were sure of three things. Danny’s murder wasn’t the only one committed at the site that night. The second thing, Owen Drummond was involved either directly or indirectly in the murders. Third and most important was that a killer was still out there. The killer was someone who didn’t care if innocent bystanders like Danny died as long as the main target died too. They weren’t sure whether the intended target was Susan or Owen Drummond.
CHAPTER ELEVEN … And the jailhouse rocks
“Do you have a blackboard or a whiteboard Jake and I can use, Susan? We need to diagram the case as far as we know it.” Liz wrinkled her forehead as she stared at Susan, who gave her a questioning look without asking why. She shrugged in answer, then rubbed the back of her neck. “I found laying out the crime scene so I can see it helps me understand the crime better. I don’t know why, but it helps me see the case.”
Susan nodded. “I’ll have one sent from the office. When do you need it?”
“I could use it like yesterday,” Liz responded, grinning.
“Okay. Let me make a call to Eunice and see what she can do. Where do you want it?”
“Is anybody using the room next to mine?”
“No, it’s available.”
“Could I get a fax machine and a computer hookup too?”
“Are you moving in or what?” Susan asked, grinning. “Of course, you can have anything you need for a temporary office, Elizabeth Gilmore. That way, I can see you any time I want. Why don’t you just make me a list of all the things you need? I’ll see if we can send them over this evening.”
She stared at the room Liz selected for the temporary office. It was perfect. It was on the first floor. It was far enough away from her father not to disturb him. It was next door to Liz’s bedroom, making it convenient for her. It was large enough to accommodate the office equipment Liz requested. The most important feature was the room’s location. Since it was in her home, she’d see Liz Gilmore anytime she wanted. She decided that made the office location priceless.
Later that afternoon, Susan stood in the doorway of the office. She watched Liz study a storyboard that she’d been staring at for hours. The entire household approved of the office space, everyone except her. She assumed allowing the temporary office into her home meant she’d see Liz any time she wanted. However, she hadn’t considered Liz’s dogged determination to solve the case and the time she’d spend doing exactly that. Liz claimed she was trying to figure out the order of events. Meanwhile, Susan grew more impatient and annoyed with Liz as the hours passed. This wasn’t working out as she’d planned. Watching Liz think bored her and she didn’t like that one bit. She sighed. She’d have to do something about it.
Meanwhile, Liz felt if she could ever get the events in order, she might be able to figure out the killer’s identity. She stared at board, noting the notes she’d taken at the site and the notes she’d added from memory as she and Jake drove back to the house. She scratched her head. Damn it, something was missing, but she couldn’t figure out what. She shifted the drawings and diagrams of the site around until they resembled the construction site and posted them on the board. She stuck bright red pins in the places where Skipper found blood. An orange pin marked the construction trailer that Owen Drummond used that night. The blue pins showed the various locations of the construction equipment. She used green pins to mark the footprints made by the nicked sneaker. Yellow pins showed the smaller footprints. She used black pins for the tire treads. She used white flags where she thought each explosion started and then tried to place the events in chronological order, but it looked like she’d need the photographs they taken today. She’d told Jake to drop off the film at Helen Nelson’s place, so it wouldn’t be too long before she could use them as maps.
Helen studied the prints she’d made. “Hmm, these look like crime scene photos,” she muttered, holding the negatives up to the light in her dark room. She wondered why Susan’s sergeant didn’t have the police crime lab process the pictures. She knew at least one of the police photographers and she was good. She remembe
red her promise to Susan not to ask questions. A promise was a promise, Helen mused as she went to bed.
The next morning, she scanned the pictures into her computer, then e-mailed them to the web address Jake gave her. Well, she’d finished her work for Susan and now she wanted to know the story behind the photos. She wondered if they had anything to do with the rumors about somebody trying to kill Owen Drummond. Her sources said it wasn’t just the old man that somebody wanted dead. Somebody wanted Susan dead as well.
She prayed it was a just a rumor. If it wasn’t, she hoped the sergeant was as good at solving crimes as her police contact claimed that she was. She’d miss Suzie Q if something bad happened. Susan Drummond was one of the few people in town she genuinely liked. Sure, Suzie acted like spoiled brat, but she remembered how kind Susan was when her mother had terminal cancer. Susan accompanied her to the hospital, then sat for hours listening to her read stories to her mother to take her mind off the pain. She drove her home and then stayed with her to soothe her. She crossed her fingers, then said a little prayer for Susan Drummond and her father. That was all she could do unless Suzie asked for more.
Liz compared her notes from the construction site against her father’s interview notes with Owen Drummond for the hundredth time. She sat at the desk, staring at them. Something wasn’t right here. It just didn’t fit. Why did the killer go after Owen Drummond at the construction site, then send his daughter the warning notes? Skipper proved the writer and the killer were the same person or at least one of the killers at the site. She rubbed the bridge of her nose.
The phone rang.
Susan reached for the phone, but Liz put a hand out to stop her and signaled her to let it ring. “Let’s hear who it is first.”
Susan nodded.
The two women listened as Johnny Flint politely asked to speak with Susan.
“I called to see if you’re okay. We haven’t talked since the board meeting. Hey, Suzie Q, you’re not still pissed about that, are you?” John Flint sighed. “Aw, come on, Suzie! I was just doing the best thing for the company and the town. If you think about it, you’ll agree. Pick up the phone and talk to me. Baby, it’s me, Johnny, your oldest and dearest playmate.” He frowned at the phone in his hand. “Damn it, Susan, I know you’re there! Pick up the fucking phone.” He cleared his throat and spoke in a calmer voice. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I miss you, Suzie Q. Let’s have dinner at the club this week. I haven’t seen you in ten days. That’s too long. Aw, come on, Baby, talk to me,” he begged.
Susan’s eyes narrowed as she studied Liz. “He’s whined enough, Lizzie. How about it? Can I talk with him?”
Liz shrugged, then nodded her permission. “Yeah, go ahead, but keep it short and simple. Don’t tell him about the investigation.”
Susan picked up the phone. “I’m fine, Johnny.”
“If you’re so fine, why haven’t you called me?” Johnny demanded. When he realized he was shouting, he calmed down and sighed. “You’re not still pissed about our lunch at the club, are you, Suzie Q?”
“No, I’m not, Johnny,” Susan lied. She was still angry with Johnny and his drunken friends. Who wouldn’t be angry? His behavior at the club was outrageous. He’d have to do a great deal to make up for it, but she had too many other things worrying her to allow it. The disastrous board meeting was still fresh in her mind too. She didn’t accept his cavalier explanation either. “I’m just busy with Daddy’s business dealings. Why don’t I call you later in the week?”
Johnny sighed loudly. He reminded Liz of a sulky child denied something he wanted. “Okay. I just wanted to check on you, Suzie.”
“I’m fine, Johnny. Soon as I get a little free time, we’ll go away together like we always do.” Her answer satisfied him for a minute.
Liz eyed Susan and raised an eyebrow when she heard the promise.
Susan shook her head, put a finger to her lips, and motioned silence.
“Why can’t we have dinner tonight?” Johnny whined. “We haven’t seen each other in weeks.”
“I can’t, Johnny. I just told you I’m too busy with my father’s business at ODC. After I get the hang of it, I promise we’ll have dinner with your friends and hang out. Okay, Johnny?”
Johnny sighed. “Okay, Suzie Q, whatever you say. You’d better call me before the week is out or I’m gonna come over there and kidnap you.”
Susan giggled. “Oh, Johnny, stop whining. You know how much I hate to hear you whine. I’ll call you by the weekend.” She hung up the phone.
“You’re not seriously considering going away with John Flint, are you?” Liz pushed away from the computer, then rubbed her eyes. She stood up from the desk to stretch tired muscles.
“After this mess is over, I was thinking about getting away for a while.” Susan looked down at her feet.
Liz nodded as she noted Susan’s bowed head. “That part’s understandable, but why with him?”
“I wanted a certain sergeant to come with me, but I didn’t think she’d agree.” Susan continued to play with her hands.
Liz walked over to stand in front of Susan. “Love, look at me.”
Susan looked up into glowing dark eyes.
“Sheriff Reeves and all his deputies couldn’t stop me from going with you when this is over.”
“Oh, my, I didn’t know that,” Susan murmured shyly.
“Well, you do now.” Liz leaned down in front of Susan’s chair to kiss her when Jake called out. Instead of kissing her, Liz reached out to stroke Susan’s cheek. She watched Susan close her eyes as soon as she felt the gentle touch against her face. She sighed and dropped her hand when Jake called her again. “Give me a minute, Love. Jake sounds excited. He doesn’t get that way often. Let’s go see what my big brother wants.”
The two women walked out of the temporary office together and strolled into the dining room.
“Dad, Susan, and Lizzie, you need to hear this.” Jake motioned his sister to sit down next to Officer Ingrams at the antique wooden dining room table.
The young officer sighed as he looked around the table at the expectant faces. “I overheard the sheriff say that he was putting together papers to bring you up on charges, Liz. Sorry, Sarge.” Ingrams stared at Liz and raised an eyebrow.
Liz’s jaw muscles tightened. She nodded. “Go ahead, Ingrams, tell me the rest.”
“Somebody saw you at the construction site. They called him to report you. He sent Henderson to investigate.”
Liz groaned at the mention of Officer Henderson’s name. “He’s the village idiot and chief ass-kisser.”
“Anyway, Henderson came back with a bunch of crime scene flags in his big mitt. The jerk pulled them up to bring them in and show the sheriff. He shoulda took pictures and left them where they were.”
Jake looked at Liz, who looked at their father.
The three Gilmores started laughing.
Ingrams and Susan frowned. “What’s so funny?” they asked in unison.
“This could work in our favor, Ingrams. Henderson doesn’t know which way is up half the time, so he probably won’t know where he got the markers,” Liz replied.
“Ted must be pretty pissed with Lizzie to press charges,” Jake Sr. added.
Liz nodded. “Yeah, well, he’ll be real mad once it’s obvious Henderson can’t tell him anything. All he’ll know is that we found something, but he won’t have a clue as to what we found.”
“What charges can he bring against Liz, Officer Ingrams?” Susan stared at him when she asked the question on everyone’s mind.
“Insubordination, I think.”
Jake stroked his cheek. “He could also hit her with failure to follow direct orders of a superior officer or conducting an investigation without proper authority or entering a crime scene without permission. You know, stuff like that.”
“Shit!” Liz abruptly got up from the table, then marched over to the window and stood looking outside into the darkness.
“Jake, w
hat could happen to Lizzie?” Susan asked as she stared at Liz’s stiff back.
“If the charges stick, they’ll investigate. She could lose her job. If Uncle Ted wants to play hardball, he could bring her up on criminal charges such as interfering with or impeding a criminal investigation.”
“You mean she could be arrested for investigating the explosion.” Susan frowned.
Jake nodded slowly as he watched Lizzie turn away from them. He sighed, then nodded in his sister’s direction. “Go talk to her, Susan.”
Susan walked over to the window. She raised her hand and hesitated before she rubbed Liz’s back. “I’m so sorry, Lizzie. I didn’t realize this could happen. My father could speak with the sheriff. He could get him to pull back.”
Liz shook her head. “My gut tells me no. If I were Uncle Ted, I’d do what he’s doing. You can’t have your third person in command running around the countryside, investigating ghosts for all the citizenry to see. Especially if you’ve given her orders to discontinue the investigation.” She stroked the bridge of her nose. “I suspected he’d do this when I saw how he reacted to you at the hospital. I can’t say I’m surprised. It was just a matter of time.”
“Oh, I see.” Susan was surprised and then hurt that Liz hadn’t confided her suspicions.
Liz stroked the nearest arm. “Don’t worry, Love. I’m seeing this thing through even if I have to go to jail to do it. It’s something I need to do for Danny. As for you, I think you’re in danger. I feel it in my gut. I just can’t prove it.” She sighed. “What we need is a breakthrough on some of those samples we sent Ingrams’ friend at the lab.” She sat down at the table next to Ingrams. “Is there anything new on that front, Ingrams?”