by Sharon Sala
“Did you get any bear claws?”
“Good morning to you, too,” Mike drawled, as he opened the box and took out two doughnuts, then passed the box. “Help yourself and then put the box in the break room, will you?”
“Glad to,” Duroy said, as he fished out a giant, sugar-glazed bear claw and laid it on a napkin, licking his fingers as he walked away.
Mike was downing the last bite of his first doughnut when Kenny returned.
“What did you find out from Harmon?” Mike asked, as Duroy took a big bite of his sweet roll.
Kenny talked around the bite he was chewing. “He’s in a shitty mood. Yesterday on the way to the mine where Sadler worked, he ran over some kid’s dog. He says he doesn’t want to talk about it, but then brings it up every time there’s a break in the conversation.”
Mike grimaced. “That’s tough.”
Duroy nodded. “He said he went to Caulfield’s office to ask him why Sadler had been fired. Caulfield admitted he didn’t know the man or the situation, which I suppose is understandable considering how many aspects there are to Caulfield Industries and the number of people he actually employs. However, once he learned where Sadler worked, Caulfield hooked Harmon up with the foreman, a man named Tom Bonaventure, who happens to be the man who fired Jessup Sadler. Bonaventure said Sadler got fired because he came to work drunk. I have a list of names of the men who worked the same shift Sadler worked. That’s your copy.” He tossed a sheet of paper on Mike’s desk and took another bite of his sweet roll.
Mike scanned the list, recognizing several names, but knew talking to them wasn’t going to be easy. Since they worked the day shift at Caulfield #14 they were, at the moment, somewhere deep inside a mountain. He’d have to catch them at home after dark.
“I’ll take the top half, you take the bottom, okay?”
“Sure,” Kenny said, circling the names on the list.
Mike took a sip of coffee as he sorted through a stack of new reports. He paused then picked one up from the coroner.
“Did you see this?”
It was a report listing Sadler’s time of death between 11:47 p.m. which was when his wrist watch stopped, presumably when he went into the water, and no later than 2:00 a.m. with an addendum that he couldn’t be more specific due to the cold temperature of the water in which Sadler had been found.
“Yeah, I did. Did you get any security footage from that quick stop?” Kenny asked, licking sugar off his thumb.
“I have some, but the clerk wasn’t all that positive about us being able to see anything on it. He said the quality of the footage isn’t good, even when the sun is shining.”
Kenny frowned. “I never understood that. Spend money to put up security but use shoddy equipment. Then you’re screwed if you ever really need it because you can’t see a damn thing.”
“I think a lot of people believe just the appearance of having security cameras is enough to do the job.”
“It’s still stupid,” Kenny said.
Mike shrugged. No need to argue with the truth. He grabbed the last bite of doughnut and shoved it in his mouth, then picked up his coffee.
“I’m going to get the security tapes from the evidence locker. I’ll be in the tech room if you need me.”
****
It didn’t take long for Mike to fast-forward through the footage from the gas station to the time when they knew Sadler had left the hospital. But it took a little more than two hours watching seriously shitty footage before he finally saw Sadler’s car arrive at the station.
He leaned forward, watching intently to see who emerged from the car. What he wasn’t expecting to see were two skinny white boys. They looked like kids, but it was hard to judge age when he couldn’t make out a face. They jumped out and ran off into the downpour without ever looking toward the station. There was no way he would be able to identify them from this, but at least they knew they were looking for two killers, not one. He reached for the phone and called his partner.
“Kenny, come look at this.”
“On my way.”
Mike played the tape again for his partner.
“It is seriously bad footage, but now we know there were two of them,” Kenny said.
Mike picked up the phone again, this time to call the crime lab.
“Crime lab. Bonnie Kirk.”
“Hey Bonnie, this is Mike Amblin. Where are you on the Sadler car they towed in yesterday?”
“We’re just starting on it, but I can tell you for certain Sadler was not in this car when he got shot. No blood or broken glass like you would expect to find.”
“So I still don’t have a crime scene,” Mike said. “Do you have any prints on file for the daughter? The family only had the one car so there would be hers for sure, and possibly even her mother’s prints, although I don’t know how long it’s been since she was well enough to drive.”
“The only prints I have are for Jessup Sadler. You need to send an officer to tell the mother and daughter to come in so we can print them for elimination.”
“Nix the mother. She died of terminal cancer the same morning Jessup’s body was found. You’ll have to send someone to the funeral home to get her prints.”
“Wow, that’s tough on the daughter.”
Mike thought about Poppy Sadler. “Yeah, it was a bad day for her yesterday and I doubt today will be much better. Since we have the family’s only car, I’ll get a print kit and go get her prints myself. I’ll drop them by the lab afterward.”
“Thanks.”
“If you get any hits, give me or Duroy a call.”
“Will do,” Bonnie said, and hung up.
Kenny had been listening. “So nothing yet, I take it?”
“The car was not our crime scene.”
“Well hell. So, unless those two men killed him inside some building then dumped the body in the river afterward, we’re not going to have a crime scene to process. Not after yesterday’s rain.”
“Possibly, which means we need an ID on those two. Maybe they weren’t wearing gloves and we’ll get lucky,” Mike said.
“So you’re going to Sadler’s residence to print the girl?”
“I’ll call first to make sure she’s there, but yeah. What about you? Are you coming?”
“Might as well. We can’t interview any of the miners on Sadler’s shift until late this evening. Until we get IDs on the guys who drove that car we’re on hold.”
“Hang on a sec and let me see if she’s home,” Mike said, and called Poppy’s number.
****
Poppy woke before daylight and couldn’t get back to sleep. She started a pot of coffee but as she walked through the house, was lost by how empty it felt. Before her mama’s illness, her parents would have already been up. Mama would be in the kitchen making breakfast and packing Daddy’s lunch, with the television playing in the background to catch the morning news and weather. Daddy would have been in the shower, or reading what he could of the newspaper before he had to leave to catch his ride to the mine. She had taken it all for granted until it was gone.
While the coffee was brewing, she headed for her parents’ bedroom. She hadn’t been in it since their passing, and was met with the aroma of Jessup Sadler’s aftershave when she opened the door.
“Oh Daddy.”
Tears quickened, but she blinked them away. She had to go in. There were things that needed to go to the undertaker and no way to get them but to go through their things.
Since she intended to buy her mama a new dress, she didn’t have to go through her clothing, and it didn’t take long to find the needed undergarments. The funeral home had already told her not to bother with shoes because the lower half of the body was never shown during a viewing. Still, Poppy added a pair of white socks to the pile. After Mama got sick, her feet had always been cold and she wasn’t going to bury her with bare feet.
She moved from the clothes to the jewelry box to get the wedding ring. It had finally fallen off Helen�
��s finger after three months of chemotherapy and she’d worn it on a chain around her neck until her final hospitalization. It was a simple gold band with one tiny diamond – an unassuming ring that had been symbolic of their lives.
She started to put the ring in her pocket then was afraid she would lose it, so she slipped it on her finger. It felt a little strange to be wearing something so intimate that didn’t belong to her, but she wouldn’t have it on long. Satisfied she was choosing everything Mama would have wanted, she closed the lid and gathered up the lingerie. The phone rang on her way to get dressed. She ran to answer, dropping the lingerie on her the bed as she picked up.
“Hello?”
“Miss Sadler, this is Detective Amblin. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, I was up. Do you have more news?”
He thought about the grainy footage from the gas station and then decided against mentioning it. The less she knew about the investigation until it was solved, the less she would have to worry about.
“We’re still waiting on a report from the crime lab. If you’re going to be home for a little while, I need to fingerprint you so the crime lab can eliminate your prints from what’s gathered inside the car.”
“I’ll be here for about another hour or so. I have to wait until at least 9:00 before the stores open.”
“Great. I’ll be there shortly and promise not to delay your plans.”
“Alright, see you soon.”
The minute she hung up, she began stripping off her pajamas and grabbing some clothes. By the time the police car pulled up in front of her house, she was properly dressed, hair brushed, and a half cup of coffee in her system.
She watched the two cops get out and tried to remember the older one’s name but couldn’t. She did, however, remember the other one – Detective Amblin – Detective Mike Amblin. He was tall like John, and had a good face. Strong chin, high cheekbones, steady gaze from really nice blue eyes – the kind of face that would grow even better looking with age.
She waited until they knocked then let them in.
“Good morning, Miss Sadler. Sorry about this,” Mike said, and just as he apologized, realized he wasn’t sorry because it meant seeing her again.
“It’s all right. I’m willing to do anything it takes to help find out who killed Daddy. Where do you want to do this? Is the kitchen okay? There’s more room on the kitchen table.”
“Yes, the kitchen is perfect,” Mike said and followed Poppy out of the room.
Kenny eyed his partner’s face and rolled his eyes as he trailed the pair. Damned if it didn’t look like Mike was half-way attracted to the vic’s kid. That spelled all kinds of trouble. They’d have to have a little chat about conflict of interest on the way back.
Poppy watched curiously as Mike set out everything he’d brought.
“Does it matter which hand?”
“We’ll do the left one first,” he said, and then saw the ring as he reached for her hand. “Nice ring.”
Poppy flinched. “Oh. Sorry, I forgot it was there. It’s Mama’s wedding ring. I’m taking it to the funeral home. She would want to be buried with it.”
She slipped the ring off her finger and laid it aside. Mike felt a slight tremble as he took her hand and knew she was girding herself for another tough day.
“This won’t take long,” he said quietly, and proceeded to print her thumb then each of her fingers before switching to her right hand and repeating the process. “You can go wash now,” he said, as he packed everything back up.
Poppy went to the kitchen sink and picked up the bar of her daddy’s Lava soap and started to scrub. It was a harsh, abrasive soap favored by mechanics and people who worked with their hands. He had used it each night to wash the coal dust from his skin and out from under his nails, but she’d never imagined she’d be using it to wash off fingerprint ink.
“There’s coffee if either one of you want a cup,” Poppy said. “Cups are in the cupboard just above the coffee maker.”
“I’m still working on one I left in the car, but thanks,” Mike said.
“I wouldn’t mind half a cup,” Kenny said.
“Help yourself,” Poppy said, and turned to reach for a towel only to find Mike standing beside her with the towel in his hands.
“Here you go,” he said, and smiled.
Poppy smiled back before she thought and then took the towel and turned away. She dried quickly, anxious for them to be gone, and hung the towel on a door handle. Once more, when she turned around Mike was there, this time holding her Mother’s ring.
“I would hate to be responsible for making you forget this,” he said, and dropped it into the palm of her hand. “How are you getting down town?”
“I can promise you I’m not walking,” Poppy said.
He almost smiled again, and then realized there wasn’t any reference to yesterday that could be misconstrued as humorous.
“If you need a ride-“
She shook her head. “A neighbor has offered me the use of her car for today. She lives at the end of the next block down.”
“Do you want us to drop you off?” Mike asked.
Kenny stifled a snort and then downed the last bit of coffee he’d begged and set the cup in the sink.
“No, but thank you anyway.”
Mike realized he was dragging out something that should have ended five minutes ago and knew he was going to hear about it when they got in the car.
“Then we’ll get out of your way. Again, sorry we had to bother you.”
Poppy slipped the ring on her finger as she led the way back to the living room, then opened the door. It occurred to her that the gesture might appear as less than hospitable, but then decided it didn’t matter. They were the police and they hadn’t come for hospitality.
“Thank you for saving me a trip to the police station.”
“You’re welcome,” Mike said.
All of a sudden they were on the porch, shut out of the house and out of her sight.
Kenny arched an eyebrow.
“Shut up, Kenny. Just shut up and get in the car.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, but as soon as they got in the car, he gave Mike a look. “She’s part of a case we’re working on. Remember that.”
Mike already knew that, but it didn’t keep him from thinking he needed to protect her, even though there was no indication that what had happened to her father had anything to do with her. He glared at his partner and drove away without bothering to answer.
Chapter Six
Poppy was about to leave the house when she saw Gladys drive up. She stepped out onto the porch as Gladys honked and waved, then a shudder suddenly ran through her. She would have sworn her mama had just stepped out onto the porch beside her. It was becoming painfully clear there would be many moments like this before the reality of death soaked in.
“Good morning, sugar!” Gladys said, as she came up the steps, rocking a seventies look in bright green patio pants and an even brighter orange top. She’d pulled her hair up into a wad on top of her head and fastened it with a giant banana clip, which made her look a little like a bleached blonde cockatoo, although it was already coming down in more places than not. She dropped the keys in Poppy’s hand.
“Let’s go inside a minute. We need to talk.”
Poppy’s heart skipped a beat as she followed her back into the house. “Is something wrong? Did Mel know something about Daddy?”
Gladys rolled her eyes. “Oh, no, I shouldn’t have said it like that. It’s just that I’ve been getting calls from your mama and daddy’s friends all morning, wanting to know what they can do, and wanting to bring food and the like. I knew you needed to be gone for most of the day so I thought, if it was okay with you, I’d just stay here at your house and take in the calls and the food that comes. If it makes you uncomfortable to have a stranger in the house, just tell me, no thank you. It won’t hurt my feelings a bit, so what do you think?”
“Go. Do what you gotta do and don’t worry about anything here.”
Poppy picked up the little bag with her mama’s things and slung her purse strap over her shoulder. She was out the door before Gladys could change her mind, and minutes later, driving over the Little Man, completely focused on the day ahead of her.
****
John Sadler stopped in Charlotte, North Carolina just before 8:00 a.m. to get fuel and breakfast. The day was overcast, adding to the somber mood he was in. Guilt colored every thought he’d had since Poppy’s call, which made the urgency of his trip that much worse. He was already closer to home, but it still felt like the other side of the world. All he could think about was his little sister and what she was going through alone.
As soon as he’d gassed up his truck he drove through a McDonald’s, got some breakfast to go and a large coffee and hit the I77 northbound. As he ate, he kept going over the last few phone conversations he’d had with his dad, trying to remember if Jessup had mentioned anything that might lend a clue as to who would want him dead, but nothing came to mind. All he had wanted to talk about was a new treatment for Helen, or how he thought she’d taken a turn for the better. Now it was too late to ask if anything more had been going on. He finished his coffee and tossed the cup in the floorboard of his truck and kept on driving.
The miles and the time were passing while the yellow line separating the two lanes of traffic on the interstate became John’s yellow brick road. All he had to do was follow it to get to Oz. Only there wasn’t any wizard waiting with answers at the end of this road – just a police department with a whole lot of questions.