Murder in Madden

by Raegan Teller

  Garrett’s closest relative, Myra Edmonds, a resident of Madden, told police that Garrett left the house two days ago to go on a job interview but never showed up. Edmonds said she had not reported Garrett’s disappearance prior to the discovery of the body, as she thought Garrett would return on her own. Edmonds declined an interview.

  There were only five articles on the murder, and most gave little information, other than to say the investigation was ongoing. The last article was the most disturbing to Enid.

  Murder Investigation Goes Cold

  Jack Johnson, Senior Staff Reporter

  Two months have passed since the body of Rose Marie Garrett was found in a wooded area near the edge of Madden. When asked about the investigation, Chief Richard Jensen of the Madden Police Department replied, “We’ve followed a number of leads, but none have led to a viable suspect. However, we are committed to finding Miss Garrett’s killer and bringing him to justice.”

  Before her death, Garrett resided with Myra Edmonds, a relative and resident of Madden. Edmonds has been unavailable for comment since the incident. A neighbor, who asked to remain anonymous, said Edmonds left town several weeks after the murder and has not returned. A family spokesperson, Fern Blackwell, issued a statement saying “the family would not discuss the matter further” and that they are “confident the Madden Police Department is doing all it could to solve this horrific crime against our family.” Blackwell lives in Madden with her husband, Samuel Blackwell, who owns a commercial real estate development company.

  After reading the last article, Enid pushed back in her chair and thought about Rose Marie Garrett, the young woman whose life had been taken from her, and who death was now a cold case. Forgotten.

  Each article had been written by a Madden Gazette staff reporter named Jack Johnson. A Google search on Johnson produced a short article announcing his retirement from the Madden Gazette about ten years ago, shortly after Rosie’s death. She checked online for a phone number and found numerous listing for the name, but none in Madden. She then looked up the number for the Madden Gazette and called.

  "This is the Madden Gazette. How can I help you?" The woman spoke with a deep Southern accent.

  "I'd like to speak with Jack Johnson."

  "I'm sorry, hon, but he left here several years ago. I can connect you someone else that can assist you."

  Before Enid could reply, she was put on hold. Shortly, another voice answered. "Hello, how can I help you?"

  Enid repeated her request. "I'm trying to locate Jack Johnson who used to be a reporter there."

  "Oh, my, yes! Jack was such a nice man. I really hated to see him leave."

  "Yes, I'm sure he was. Do you have a number where I can contact him? Or at least an address?" asked Enid.

  "I'm so sorry, but we're not allowed to give out personal information," the woman said. “Can someone else help you?” Enid had not expected them to tell her, but it didn’t hurt to try.

  “No, thanks. I’m calling about some articles he wrote, and I need to speak directly with him. Does he live in Madden? Can you at least tell me that?" Enid regretted the sharp tone that had crept into her voice.

  "Well, technically, he doesn't live in Madden." The woman paused, sounding unsure whether to continue. "That is, since his place is outside the city limits.”

  Enid tried to ease into the meandering cadence of the conversation. “What city would he be listed in?"

  "His mailing address probably is Madden, but I'm not real sure. He drops in the office from time to time. If you want to leave your name and number, I'll get him to call you. How about that?" The woman sounded pleased with herself, but Enid doubted she would ever hear from Jack Johnson.

  Enid gave the woman her cell phone number and thanked her. Again, Enid read each article and made a note of the key information and a list of questions. Why had Myra left town and where did she go? Why was Fern speaking for the family? And most disturbingly, why had the family not pushed for answers instead of shutting down communications? Were there more articles? The Madden Gazette was a small-town, weekly newspaper, and it was doubtful that decades-old papers were on microfilm. She would likely have to search the paper’s print archives for past editions.

  The questions, along with Fern’s behavior about the articles, nagged at Enid. What bothered her most was the fact that Rose Marie Garrett’s murder seemed to be more of an embarrassment for the family than a tragedy. Even Cade didn’t want to talk about it.

  Enid glanced at the clock. If she left now, she could be in Madden by noon. She sent a quick text to Cade and told him she was going on a short trip out of town and would call him later. While it wasn’t a lie, she tried to remember the last time she had withheld information from Cade. On the other hand, he hadn’t told her about Montana until this morning. Besides, what was the harm in being curious?

  CHAPTER 9

  Following the instructions from the navigation system's disembodied voice, Enid took the next exit off I-77. She drove down the two-lane state road for close to ten miles until she saw a small sign on the side of the road welcoming her to the town of Madden. A speed limit sign warned her of the thirty-miles-per-hour limit, so she braked slightly, not wanting to fall victim to a small-town speed trap. A few cars were parked along the street, but she didn't see anyone on the sidewalks.

  On the left side of the small street were a few retail stores: hardware, drugstore, ladies dress shop, and a small diner. On the right side stood the post office and the Madden Gazette. Beyond the newspaper office, a sign in front of a one-story cinder block building identified the Madden police station.

  Enid pulled into one of the empty parking spaces in front of the Post Office. There were no parking meters, only a rusty metal sign on the sidewalk indicating a two-hour parking limit. She walked into the post office, admiring the two large planters on each side of the door with red geraniums spilling over the sides. Inside, she approached the lone clerk who was busy putting mail in postal boxes.

  "Hi, I'm trying to find Jack Johnson," said Enid. "I understand he lives near Madden, but I wasn’t able to find him online. Is there a local directory I might use to find him?"

  The clerk continued to stuff boxes, and Enid wasn't sure the woman had heard her. Enid glanced around the post office, waiting for the clerk to acknowledge her presence. In several places, bare wood showed through the worn linoleum floor tiles. Sun filtered through the opaque glass windows, sunning several African violets on the window sills. The purple beauty of the violets offered a stark contrast to the dingy, yellowed walls. Overhead, large metal fan blades cut through the humid air, creating a warm breeze.

  Finally, the clerk turned to look at Enid and chuckled slightly. "You're looking at the local directory." She scanned Enid from head to toe. "He know you're looking for him?"

  Caught off-guard, Enid replied, "Well, no. I mean, not exactly." Enid gave the woman her most charming smile. "Please, if there's any way you can help me I'd appreciate it. I'm here to get information about some articles he wrote about ten years ago."

  The clerk tilted her head down and peered at Enid over the top of her reading glasses. "What's your name? I'll give him a call and see if he wants to be found."

  Enid dug down into her tote bag for one of the business cards she ran off on the printer this morning and handed one to the clerk. She listed her title as writer. "Here's my cell number."

  The clerk studied the card. "Wait here." She disappeared into a small office behind the service counter, shutting the green metal door behind her.

  While Enid waited, she walked over to a large bulletin board on the wall. Most of the notes were local items for sale. One person wanted to buy a trailer for hauling hay. Enid read several more before she spotted a flyer at the bottom of the bulletin board. It showed a beautiful white mansion on a lake. "Glitter Lake Inn" was printed at the bottom of the flyer, along with an address and phone number. As Enid jotted down the information, the postal clerk called out, "Ms. Blackwell?"r />
  Enid walked back to the counter.

  "He'll be down at Sarah's 'round three today," said the clerk as she turned to walk away.

  "Wait. Where does Sarah live?" asked Enid.

  The clerk pointed to a small building across the street. “We call it Sarah’s Diner around here, but she prefers the fancy name.”

  Enid read the sign painted in deep pink, script-style letters on the big glass window: “Sarah’s Tea Shoppe.” "Oh, I see it. Thanks."

  * * *

  Enid glanced at her watch as she left the post office. It was close to twelve-thirty now. She walked down the street to the Madden police station, a few blocks away. The small brick building had been painted white at one time, but most of the paint was now peeling or gone. A long wooden sign over the door read, "Madden Police Department, Richard Jensen, Police Chief."

  Enid opened the door and walked in. A bell on the back of the door announced her entrance. The plump woman, middle-aged woman sitting at the front desk looked up. "May I help you?"

  "Yes, thank you. I'm Enid Blackwell from Charlotte, and I'm doing some research on an incident in my husband’s family." The woman's expression remained unchanged as Enid continued. "A girl named Rose Marie Garrett, a relative, was murdered."

  The woman stood up, straightened her stiff-pressed khaki slacks with her hand, and headed to a coffee pot in the back of the room. Glancing over her shoulder, she asked, "Coffee?"

  "No, thank you."

  The woman sat down and stirred her coffee. "My name is Molly. Molly Anderson. I manage the front desk, do most of the paperwork, and dispatch. Our staff is pretty small, as you can see."

  Enid smiled, although her charm hadn’t been effective in Madden so far. "Do you have some information on the murder?"

  Molly stirred her coffee again. "That's a pretty old case. Probably ten years ago, maybe more, I'd guess."

  "Yes, that's about right," said Enid.

  "As I recall, that's still an open case, so I can't give you a copy of the file. Why do you need this information?"

  Enid reached into her tote for one of her business cards. Before handing it to Molly, Enid glanced at it to make sure the ink had not smudged.

  "You're a writer, huh?" Molly turned the card over and read the back of it. "You writing about this particular murder? Rosie Garrett, I mean?" Molly sipped her coffee.

  "At this point, I'm just doing some research for a possible article. Rosie is my husband’s cousin, and I am intrigued by her life.”

  Molly tucked the business card under the pad on her desk. "And by her death, I imagine.” She paused briefly. “Well, there's not much to tell. Rosie was doing drugs and hanging out with the wrong crowd. Don't mean to speak ill of your family, but she was bad news. Always in trouble."

  "I am aware of Rosie's involvement with drugs. That doesn't diminish the sad circumstances of her death and the need for some kind of closure on this case. I’m sure you agree."

  Molly stood up. "What makes your family need closure now, after all these years?"

  Enid squared her shoulders. "I'd like to talk with the police chief." When Molly didn't respond, Enid added, "At his earliest convenience."

  "Chief Jensen is out on a call. Your number on the card here?" Molly studied the card again. "Okay, I see it. I'll have him call you."

  Realizing she had been dismissed, Enid said, "Thanks, I'd appreciate that. Please tell him it's important that I speak with him in person." She added, "I'll be checking in at the Glitter Lake Inn this afternoon."

  "I thought Cassie was closed for renovations."

  Enid put her tote on her shoulder. "That's my cell number. He can reach me anytime," she said as she left. Enid hoped Molly was wrong about the inn and decided to try it anyway.

  CHAPTER 10

  When Enid got her first glimpse of Glitter Lake, she knew how it had gotten its name. The sun shimmered on the surface of the water, creating glimmering gems of light. She pulled onto the dirt road by the sign and drove up to the big white mansion with green shutters. On one side of the house, workers were on a scaffold scraping paint from the wooden siding. From the back of the house, she heard the high-pitched whine of a power saw. Molly had been right about the renovations.

  The front door was open, so Enid walked inside. She gazed around the high-ceilinged room and looked at the massive staircase, soaking in the beauty of the old house. Dark wide floorboards shone with a mellowness that came from decades of wax and loving care. The tall ceilings were defined by deep, ornate molding around the perimeter. She walked over to the front desk and ran the bell, as instructed by the small, hand-painted sign. The faint scent of lemon polish reminded Enid of her mother's house.

  She waited a few minutes before ringing the bell again. A woman's voice came from the back of the house. "Hold on. I’m coming." The woman was drying her hands on a towel as she walked into the room. "I'm sorry. I was in the back and didn't hear you come in.” She extended her hand. "I'm Cassie, the innkeeper."

  "Hi, I'm Enid Blackwell. I was hoping you could rent me a room for a couple nights."

  "I'm so sorry, but we're closed for renovations. An old place like this, seems like we're always having to do something."

  "Molly, the lady at the police station, mentioned you were probably closed. I was hoping she might be wrong."

  "I know Molly well. She's worked for Dick Jensen, the police chief, for at least twenty years."

  "Is there another place in town I might stay?" asked Enid.

  "Madden is pretty small, as you can tell. We're the only place around. Columbia is about forty miles from here, but it's not a bad drive. Or there’s a bed and breakfast in the next town."

  Enid looked around the room. "This place is beautiful. How old is it?"

  "More than 150 years old. It was a cotton plantation back in the day. Been in my family for generations, although I just became the innkeeper about fifteen years ago. The only way I can keep it is by taking guests. The upkeep is staggering."

  "The inn is very charming," said Enid.

  "Would you like some iced tea and fresh-baked cookies? I need a break, and I'd like the company."

  "That would be nice. Thanks."

  Enid followed Cassie to the inn's library. Mahogany bookshelves stuffed with an odd assortment of leather bound volumes, contemporary novels, and paperbacks covered three of the walls. At the back of the room, two tall glass doors opened onto a screened porch overlooking the lake.

  "Oh my, what a gorgeous view. How can you resist sitting out here all day?"

  "I hate to admit it, but I forget how wonderful this place is until my guests remind me. Yes, it is beautiful here." Cassie invited Enid to explore the library's books while she prepared their snack. "I'll bring the cookies out here to the porch. Shouldn't take but a few minutes."

  * * *

  Cassie returned with a large silver tray holding the tea pitcher, two glasses of ice, and a plate of cookies. She placed the food on the white painted table near the rocking chair where Enid was sitting. "Do you have relatives here?"

  "No, I'm doing some research in Madden."

  "Sounds interesting."

  "I'm beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea. Coming to Madden without planning my trip, I mean," said Enid. "I'm usually not this impulsive." She finished her tea and put her glass back on the tray. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. Anyway, I have a meeting at Sarah’s in Madden, so I need to go soon. I don't want to be late."

  They chatted a few minutes, and then Enid reached for her leather tote and stood up. "Thanks so much for your hospitality. I can’t imagine how the food or the company at Sarah's can be any more enjoyable than this has been.”

  "Sarah is a good friend, and she has a charming place. You tell her I said to take care of you," said Cassie.

  "I will, thanks." Enid started to walk away and then turned back to Cassie. "I bet you know a good deal about the town and its people."

  Cassie laughed. "What happens at the inn, stays
at the inn, but the rest of the town is fair game."

  "Would you mind if I come back tomorrow and ask you a few questions?"

  Cassie’s smile faded slightly. "I'm trying to be polite and not ask you what your research is about. But now that you're asking me to get involved, I think I need to ask."

  "Fair enough," said Enid. "I promise to fill you in. I'll need to find a room somewhere in Columbia after my meeting this afternoon, so I'll call you tomorrow before I come to make sure you're available."

  Cassie tilted her head slightly to one side. "Tell you what. If you don't mind a little hammering and the smell of fresh paint, I can open one of the guest rooms for you. Heaven knows, I could use the company. It does get a bit lonely here."

  "Are you sure? I don't want to be any trouble."

  Cassie laughed. "I'll see you later this evening. The doors are unlocked until dark, so just come on in. I'll leave your room key at the front desk in case I'm in the middle of something."

  “Oh, I forgot to ask you how much the rooms are.” Enid looked around, trying to estimate the cost. “This place is elegant, and I appreciate your willingness to let me stay here, but I’m on a pretty tight budget. I probably should check out something less fancy in Columbia.”

  Cassie put her hand on her hip and appeared to be sizing up Enid. “I was going to ask around town for someone to house sit for me from time to time. I’ve got some shopping and things to do to get ready for the re-opening in a few weeks. If you’d like to stay here, keep me company and watch the inn when I travel, we’ll just call it even. If I didn’t have workers here, I wouldn’t worry about leaving the inn unattended. I won’t be gone more than a night at a time, and you’d be more like family than a guest, if that works for you.”