Ruckman Road: An Alex Penfield Novel

by Robert W. Stephens

  Penfield woke when his cell phone rang. It took him a few seconds to realize where he was and what the sound was. The phone rang again, and he answered it.

  “Hello, this is Penfield,” he mumbled.

  “Detective Alex Penfield?” the female voice asked.

  “Yes.”

  “This is Hannah Talbot. You left a message regarding my brother.”

  Penfield looked at the clock on the cable TV box display. It was almost three o’clock in the morning. He asked Hannah when the last time was that she spoke to her brother. It had been a few days. He asked how Talbot had seemed. Was he having any trouble? She said he seemed fine. Penfield informed her of the neighbor, Jenny Barnes, spotting a body in the water and believing it to be her brother, but he emphasized there was no proof that it was her brother. He told her about the search through his unlocked house and the discovery of the cell phone in the attic. Penfield could hear Hannah Talbot holding back the tears. She promised to be out of California on the next possible flight.

  Penfield ended the call and climbed off the sofa. He walked down the hallway and slipped into the bathroom. He used the toilet and then made his way into the bedroom. Penfield checked his cell phone’s alarm clock settings and confirmed he’d set the correct time for waking in the morning. He placed the phone on the night stand and rolled onto his side. He stared at the window. The street lamp from outside always casted a shadow of the tree limbs in his front yard onto the white window shade. The shadow danced as the wind blew the tree back and forth.

  He closed his eyes and was asleep again within a few minutes. This time he didn’t dream of Patricia Porter and Dominic Stewart.

  Chapter 7

  The Garage

  RDV Solutions was housed in a cinderblock building on a road containing over a dozen construction and industrial companies. The logo of the company was straightforward to say the least. The letters RDV were painted in large, orange letters inside a circle. There was a small arrow under the letters, which pointed to the left. Penfield had no idea what the arrow referred to.

  Torres pulled her car into one of the two spots marked “visitor.” They checked in with the receptionist and were led to a small conference room near the back of the building. They passed a maze of cubicles along the way. The chatter of the office workers and the ringing phones blended into an annoying buzz in Penfield’s ears. He thought the place came across more as a call center than an industrial company.

  “Can I get you anything?” the receptionist asked.

  “No, thanks. I’m fine,” Torres said.

  “I’m good, too,” Penfield replied.

  The receptionist gave them a rehearsed smile and exited the room.

  “I think I’d shoot myself if I had to work in a cubicle,” Torres said.

  “Our desks aren’t that much different. At least a cubicle gives you some privacy.”

  “Yeah, but at least we’re out in the field half the time.”

  “I bet these guys don’t come across any dead bodies,” Penfield thought, but he decided not to argue the point.

  He sat in silence while Torres checked her email on her cell phone. The manager entered a few minutes later. He was thin and rather short, with a full head of dirty blonde hair. Penfield and Torres stood to greet him. Torres was maybe an inch or two taller, but Penfield towered over the man. They shook hands and sat around the conference table.

  “I’ve asked Tom DeAngelo to join us. He’s the one who worked the most with Joe,” the manager said.

  “How well did you know Mr. Talbot?” Torres asked.

  “Not well. We have over 150 employees. I knew he was a recent hire, but I only spoke with him a couple of times. It was nothing more substantial than just welcoming him on-board.”

  “He worked for you as a site surveyor?” Torres asked.

  “That’s right. I checked with our HR person, and he was hired about six months ago.”

  “I imagine his job kept him out of the office,” Penfield said.

  “We rarely see them in here, which is another reason I didn’t interact with him much. They’re out almost every day.”

  “How was he as an employee?” Torres asked.

  “Actually, he’s no longer an employee here.”

  “Really?” Penfield asked.

  “He was terminated two days ago for not showing up for work. We have a three strikes policy here.”

  Tom DeAngelo entered the room a few seconds later. He was average height and a bit on the heavy side. He was dressed in jeans and a faded black sweatshirt with the name and logo for RDV Solutions on the upper left corner of it. The manager introduced him to Penfield and Torres, and he joined them around the table.

  “Is Joe, okay?” DeAngelo asked.

  “We’re currently trying to locate him. We’re hoping you could help,” Torres said.

  “Sure. Anything I can do.”

  “When was the last time you spoke to Mr. Talbot?” Torres asked.

  “A few days ago. Here at work. We did a survey job out in Portsmouth.”

  “How was his mood that day?” Penfield asked.

  “Okay, I guess. I mean, he seemed off the last couple of months.”

  “In what way?” Torres asked.

  “He said he wasn’t sleeping well, but I don’t know why.”

  “How was he to work with?” Torres asked.

  “He was great at first. Did good work. Funny guy. I enjoyed working with him.”

  “Was he a calm guy? Get along well with others?” Torres asked.

  “Yeah. Everybody liked him.”

  “What changed then that the company would choose to let him go?” Penfield asked.

  “He started being late all the time. He didn’t show a few times. Really left us hanging,” DeAngelo said.

  “Was his behavior change all of a sudden or was it more gradual?” Penfield asked.

  “Gradual, I guess. I warned him they were going to let him go.”

  “Did he seem concerned about that?” Torres asked.

  “It wasn’t like he seemed concerned or not concerned. He just didn’t seem to get it. He seemed out of it,” DeAngelo said.

  “Did he come across like he was under the influence of something?” Torres asked.

  “Maybe, but I never saw him do anything.”

  “Did you two ever see each other after work?” Torres asked.

  “Not really. We went for a beer once or twice, but that’s about it,” DeAngelo said.

  “Ever been to his house?” Torres asked.

  “No. He told me he lived at Fort Monroe, but I’ve never even been there. I’m not even sure where it is, really.”

  “Do you know if Mr. Talbot was having any problems beyond his lack of sleep?” Penfield asked.

  “What kind of problems?”

  “Maybe relationship problems or money problems,” Penfield suggested.

  “He didn’t say anything about that,” DeAngelo said.

  “Did he ever mention anyone breaking into his home?” Torres asked.

  “No. Look, what’s going on here? Did something happen to him?”

  “We’re not sure. Like we said, we’re trying to locate him,” Torres said.

  “Why do you even think he’s missing? Did someone report something?” DeAngelo asked.

  “A neighbor, but that’s all we can really say right now,” Penfield said.

  DeAngelo turned to his boss, but he didn’t say anything. Penfield knew the man was frustrated, and he didn’t blame him. He and Torres got to ask all the prying questions, but they weren’t willing or able to answer anything in return.

  “One more question,” Torres said. “Did Mr. Talbot have a significant other?”

  DeAngelo was silent for a moment.

  Then he said, “He mentioned a girl named Sarah a few times, but I don’t know if she was his girlfriend.”

  “In what way did he mention her?” Penfield asked.

  “He said he had met a girl named Sarah. I got
the impression he liked her.”

  “Did he ever say her last name by any chance?” Penfield asked.

  “Not that I remember. Just Sarah. Like I said before, I don’t even know if they were dating. He just said that she seemed nice.”

  “Is there anything else you can think of that we might need to know about Mr. Talbot?” Penfield asked.

  DeAngelo thought a moment and then shook his head.

  “Nothing,” DeAngelo said.

  “Thank you for your time, both of you,” Torres said.

  “Of course, please don’t hesitate to let us know if you need anything else,” the manager said.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to find him?” DeAngelo asked.

  Torres glanced at Penfield.

  “We’re not sure, but we’ll do our best,” Penfield said.

  Penfield hated lying to the man. He knew in all likelihood Joseph Talbot was gone for good, lying on the bottom of the Chesapeake Bay. The Coast Guard had decided to continue their search that morning, but they didn’t expect to find anything.

  They stood, shook hands, and the manager led them back to the front lobby. Torres and Penfield thanked the receptionist again, and they left the building. They walked to the car but stopped beside it before climbing inside.

  “What now? Go back to the fort?” Torres asked.

  “Yeah, I say we try to track down their security officer. Also, we should see if we can find this Sarah person. Maybe she can shed some light on Talbot.”

  Penfield called Amy with the Fort Monroe Authority on the way over, and she arranged for the security officer to meet them outside Talbot’s house. It was a short drive over to the fort, and Penfield assumed the easy commute was one of the reasons why Talbot had been attracted to the location.

  They saw the security guard’s vehicle parked in the street in front of Talbot’s white rental house. Torres parked her car behind the officer’s. He exited his vehicle while Penfield and Torres approached him. He wore a brown jacket that reminded Penfield of a Sheriff’s jacket. It had the name “Sullivan Securities” on it.

  “Good morning, I’m Roger Waldron” the security officer said.

  He shook both their hands.

  “Good morning,” Torres replied. “Thanks for meeting us.”

  “No problem.”

  “How long have you been working out here?” Torres asked.

  “Several months now. My company got the contract to do security just after the Army left.”

  “Do you have any break-ins out here?” Penfield asked.

  “Not one so far,” the security officer said.

  He sounded prideful, almost boastful, of the fact.

  “Ever get any calls from this house regarding any trespassers? Anything like that?” Torres asked.

  “The homeowner wouldn’t call us directly. They’d call 911 for that. We just patrol. Look for anything out of the ordinary. We also do walk-throughs on these buildings. They’re still empty, so we go around, check the locks on the doors, windows. Stuff like that. Make sure no one’s messing with them.”

  “Ever had any issues?” Penfield asked.

  “We had some of the copper rain gutters stolen. Nothing much more than that.”

  “You guys patrol twenty-four hours a day?” Torres asked.

  “That’s right. We do three shifts a day. I usually have the morning shift unless one of the other guys asks me to switch for whatever reason.”

  Penfield knew the stealing of copper from construction sites and older buildings was a huge business, and the crooks rarely got caught. That said, he found it a bit odd someone could have stolen copper rain gutters and down spouts here with the twenty-four-hour patrol. The fort wasn’t very big and that wouldn’t leave potential thieves very long to steal something. Of course, the security guards might be spending a significant portion of their shift parked behind some abandoned building and taking a long nap, especially during the night shift.

  “Did you know Mr. Talbot?” Torres asked.

  “I saw him once or twice but never spoke to him,” the security officer said.

  “He had some cameras installed throughout his house. Makes us suspect he might have been experiencing some break-ins. You never heard anything about that?” Penfield asked.

  “Nothing. I can ask the other guys, but I doubt they heard anything either.”

  “Why’s that?” Torres asked.

  “It’s pretty slow around here. If something like that had happened, they would have definitely told me.”

  Penfield turned when he heard a car approach. It parked behind Torres’ car, and Amy climbed out.

  “Here’s my card. If your co-workers think of anything, please have them give me a call,” Torres said.

  She handed the security guard her business card, and he slipped it into his jacket pocket.

  “No problem.”

  The security guard nodded and climbed into his car. He drove off as Amy approached Penfield and Torres.

  “I looked through our files. I couldn’t find anyone named Sarah on any of the leases,” Amy said. “I also asked my co-workers. They’ve never heard of her either. I can ask some of the neighbors if you like.”

  “That would be great. Thanks for checking,” Penfield said.

  “There’s something else. I forgot to tell you about the garages. Every house has access to a detached garage. Mr. Talbot’s is over there by the parking lot.”

  Amy turned and pointed in the direction of where Torres and Penfield had parked the day before.

  “I can let you in there if you like,” she continued.

  “Sure, let’s check it out,” Torres said.

  They walked down the sidewalk that led them between the house and the wooden Chapel of the Centurion.

  Talbot’s garage unit was one of several. Amy stuck the key in the lock and turned the metal handle. The door’s rollers squealed as she lifted it open.

  Penfield and Torres entered the garage and looked around. They saw a bicycle, some lawn equipment, and several more cardboard boxes. There was also a small workbench with a variety of tools hanging from a pegboard above the bench. There was a small object or objects on the bench covered by a black cloth.

  Penfield opened a couple of boxes but didn’t find anything of interest, while Torres walked over to the workbench. She lifted the corner of the black cloth.

  “Pen, I think you better have a look at this,” Torres said.

  “What did you find?” Penfield asked without turning around.

  “You need to see for yourself,” she continued.

  Penfield walked over to the bench. Torres pulled the cloth back again, and Penfield saw a human skull.

  Chapter 8

  Hannah Talbot

  Dr. Richard Hammond examined the skull while Penfield and Torres stood around the stainless steel table in the center of the lab. Hammond was a medical examiner for the Hampton Police Division. He wore the standard-issue white lab coat and was of average height and weight with a full head of salt and pepper hair that matched his closely cropped beard.

  “As you can see, the skull’s not in great shape. The lower mandible is missing, and a partial section of the back of the skull has also broken away,” Hammond said.

  “Could that be from a blow to the head?” Penfield asked.

  ‘Could be, but I think in this case, it’s probably more likely due to decay. I found some sand inside the skull and between the upper teeth, but there was no dirt. Is that where you found it, in the sand?”

  “No, it was on a garage workbench,” Torres said.

  Hammond looked up at her. Torres could tell from the look in his eyes that he was somewhat surprised at her statement. Then he shrugged his shoulders and said “Hmmm.”

  “What else can you tell from looking at it?” Penfield asked.

  “It probably belonged to a male. The skull is large, which is obviously more typical of males. Also, if you look here.”

  Hammond pointed to the upper part o
f the skull.

  “This is the temporal line where the muscle attaches from the skull to the mandible. You’ll see it has a more pronounced ridge. You can also tell by looking at the orbit.”

  He pointed to the right eye socket.

  “This has a blunter surface, which is indicative of the skull being a male. Same with the superciliary arch. There’s some slight ridging.”

  “What about the age of the person?’ Torres asked.

  “If we look at the coronal suture, we can see it’s fully fused.”

  Hammond pointed to a line that ran the length of the skull.

  “That normally doesn’t happen until at least forty years of age. So I’d say we’re looking at a male who was at least that old when he died.”

  “Can you tell how long the skull was sitting in the ground or sand when it was found?” Penfield asked.

  “Hard to say without more extensive testing. The skull’s pretty beaten up, so that tells me it was in the ground for a while. Also, look at the upper teeth.”

  Penfield and Torres looked at the skull’s teeth. They were crooked and decayed.

  “This guy clearly didn’t have access to dental care, so he either was of low social standing, or maybe dental care wasn’t that great while he was alive. Best guess, I’d say this skull is over a hundred years old, maybe closer to two hundred years,” Hammond said.

  Torres looked at Penfield. They’d clearly hit a dead end. This skull didn’t belong to a recent murder victim, if it had even been a victim at all.

  “Thanks, Doc,” Penfield said.

  “Anytime.”

  Penfield and Torres left Dr. Hammond as he continued to look over the skull. They exited the lab and walked down the long, narrow hallway toward the door that led to the lobby of the building.

  “So, Talbot finds the skull somewhere and decides to hang on to it?” Penfield asked.

  “I guess. Kind of a morbid keepsake. Don’t you think?”