Murder in North Carolina

by Agnes Alexander

  “How can I go to work on that assembly line at Davidson Industries knowing you’ve been out with the owner’s daughter, Nicky? They’re not our kind of people. They don’t want us on their fancy side of the town. It’s better if you stick with your own kind.”

  And he had. He’d married Rose Simmons, the daughter of the corner backyard mechanic shortly after he’d graduated from the police academy. Their marriage had lasted three years and had produced two sons. They divorced, then Rose remarried and moved out of state with her new husband. Nick hardly knew his boys.

  Two years after he and Rose split up, Nick married Phyllis Conroy. A year later, they had a daughter. Their marriage probably would have lasted, but one day after Phyllis picked up little Carrie from school to go visit her parents in Greensboro, a drunk driver ran a stop sign on old Highway 421 near Colfax, slamming into the driver’s side of their old Plymouth. Phyllis died instantly, and Carrie died a day later. That had been eight years ago.

  Nick had no intention of ever marrying again.

  “Well, Rebecca,” he said aloud as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ll check into Mindy’s disappearance right away.” Occasionally, he liked working on her fancy side of town. And it’ll be a pleasure to investigate something that doesn’t involve seeing if a husband or wife is fooling around.

  He didn’t want to admit, even to himself, that he had agreed to take this case and not assign it to someone else because he’d like to see Rebecca Davidson again.

  “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll wait until tomorrow,” he murmured. “I’ll call on you today, Mrs. Rebecca Davidson Armfield.”

  “Talking to yourself, Nick?” the third member of the agency, Bernie Wheeler, asked as he passed Nick’s open door.

  Nick sat up straight. “Yeah, Bernie. Keeps me on my toes.”

  Chapter 6

  A tan Ford Taurus was parked on the circular driveway in front of Vernon and Rebecca’s Buena Vista home when Vernon pulled up in his Lexus SUV. For an instant, he wondered who it might be. Then he remembered Rebecca had called the police after she had visited Mindy’s condo. He realized this was who the car must belong to, though he did have a hard time believing a police officer would come to their house on such a trivial matter.

  On the other hand, he knew Rebecca would never have company when he was due home from the office. They’d fallen into the habit of spending that time alone, sharing a drink, and talking about the events of the day. Because Wilma only cooked dinner on Tuesdays and Thursdays, they would sometimes go out to eat on other days, but most often they’d take their drinks to the kitchen where they’d either do something creative with lunch leftovers or prepare a light supper from scratch. Though they meant very little to him, Vernon thought their mealtimes together probably meant a lot to Rebecca, and at this point in his plan for the company, he wanted to keep her happy. It was such a little sacrifice.

  He opened the front door of their large antebellum home and went into the living room, where Rebecca sat in a wine-colored Queen Anne chair.

  “Hello, my dear.” He walked over to her and smiled.

  She reached up and took his hand. “Vernon, I didn’t think the police were interested enough in my search for Mindy, so I decided to enlist the help of a private detective. This is Nick Quimbley. We went to high school together.”

  Nick stood and shook hands with Vernon. “Your wife and I were in the same math class.”

  “My wife is a whiz in math. Did you know Mindy, Mr. Quimbley?” Vernon hid his surprise that Rebecca had hired a private detective without talking to him about it.

  “Not personally,” Nick said. “She was quite a bit younger than I was, and I graduated before she reached high school.”

  “I see. Well, I suppose Mrs. Armfield told you this isn’t the first time we’ve had to track Mindy down.” Vernon took a chair beside his wife.

  Nick returned to his seat on the brocade sofa. “I take it you haven’t heard anything today, either. Your wife told me Mindy sometimes calls your office instead of calling the house.”

  “I haven’t heard a word from her. As a matter of fact, Rebecca went over to Mindy’s condo today to see if she’d left any clues as to where she might be this time.”

  “I found the little bag, Vernon,” Rebecca said. “I told you about that, didn’t I?”

  “Yes.” He turned back to Nick. “My wife must have told you that Mindy never goes anywhere without her little bag. It’s kind of her good luck charm.”

  “Yes, she did tell me.” He turned to Rebecca. “You said her purse was also there?”

  “Yes. I brought it home with me.”

  “Were there any signs of a struggle?”

  “No. Just the usual clutter. Mindy hates house work.”

  “Did you clean up?” he asked.

  “No. I tried not to touch anything except the purse. I thought the police might want to look around the place, too. Would you like to see it?”

  “You wouldn’t mind?” Nick asked.

  “Of course not,” Vernon said, breaking into their conversation. “We want to find Mindy as soon as we can. I don’t want my wife worrying about her sister.”

  Nick rubbed the dark stubble on his chin. “Did you notice if anything was missing?”

  “No.” Rebecca shook her head. “When I got there, I almost didn’t go in because her car was parked outside. I thought I’d find her asleep.”

  “You didn’t think it odd for her car to be there?”

  “It wouldn’t be unusual.” Vernon looked at him. “Mindy often leaves with a friend on one of her little trips.”

  “My husband is right, Nick. I guess I’m just an alarmist. Mindy has left without telling me on occasion, but she hasn’t done anything like this in several months. I thought maybe she was becoming more responsible.”

  “Do you have a picture of your sister?”

  “I’ll get one for you.”

  “Do you mind showing me the bag she always carries with her?”

  “Of course not.”

  When she left the room, Vernon said, “Mr. Quimbley, I’m going to talk fast because I don’t want my wife to hear this. Rebecca almost went out of her mind when Mindy pulled one of her little disappearing stunts a few months ago. Rebecca was sick at the time, and she wanted her sister here. I had a talk with Mindy, and she promised she’d never leave town again without telling us. With all her quirks and faults, she loves her sister, and I don’t think she’d slip away without at least calling back to let us know how we could get in touch with her.”

  Nick studied the well-dressed man before him. His first impression was that Vernon Armfield was cold and calculating, but now he showed more concern. Nick couldn’t help wondering if it was an act.

  “Do you think something has happened to her sister?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I just feel like she’d stay in touch with Rebecca.”

  Rebecca came back into the room. “This one was taken at a party I had for a friend only a few weeks ago.” She handed the photograph to Nick.

  Nick looked at the picture of a woman wearing a green cocktail dress and sitting on the sofa he occupied now. Gordon Jones is right. Mindy is beautiful.

  “This will help,” he said aloud. “Thanks.”

  Rebecca opened the purse and took out a small embroidered bag. “This goes everywhere Mindy does. That is one reason I’m worried.”

  Nick took it and carefully turned it over in his hand.

  Rebecca went on, “I have one almost just like it. Our mother made them for us. I was entering junior high, and Mindy was still a little girl. She was so proud to have a grown up bag like mine. There’s a picture inside the locket in the bag. Mother said she gave them to us so we’d always have her and Dad along with us no matter where we were.”

  He opened the bag and looked at the picture of her parents. Putting it back, he handed the bag back to her. “You keep this, Rebecca,” he said. “I’ll know you have it if I need to see it again.”<
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  “Thank you.” She put it back into the purse and laid the purse on a table. Then she took a small notebook out of her pocket. “I made a list of a few of Mindy’s friends. I don’t have many names, because she didn’t introduce me to a lot of them.”

  “My wife is famous for making lists. This probably won’t be the last one she gives you, Mr. Quimbley.” Vernon smiled at both of them.

  Nick took the sheet of notepaper from Rebecca. “I’m sure this will be helpful, and I hope you do make a lot of lists for me. You never know what might be the one clue we need to help us find your sister.”

  “We appreciate anything you can find out for us, Nick.” Rebecca smiled at him again. “I’ll do everything I can to help.”

  “I’ll do my best to find her.” He stood. “I’d like to go through Miss Davidson’s condo soon, if it’s all right with you.”

  “We’ll give you the key so you can go at your convenience,” Vernon said. “Would you get it for him, Rebecca?”

  “Wouldn’t you rather be there when I go?” Nick looked directly at Vernon.

  “I have a very busy schedule this week.” He turned to his wife. “Would you like to be there, Rebecca?”

  “I think I would, if it’s all right with Nick.”

  “I’ll call you in the morning and make arrangements to meet you. In the meantime, if anything else comes to mind you think might be helpful, please call me.” He handed her his card.

  “We will, Mr. Quimbley,” Vernon said.

  “Of course if Mindy returns home, let me know immediately.”

  “We will.” Rebecca smiled. “I hope I’ll be able to call and report that she came home tonight.” She stood and extended her hand. “Thank you so much for coming out so quickly. It’s really nice to see you again. I’m glad you’re in charge of helping find Mindy. I feel better already.”

  “You’re welcome.” He returned her smile. “Try not to worry. I assure you we’ll do our best to find your sister as quickly as possible.”

  “I’ll see you to the door,” Vernon said. When they reached the front entrance, he eyed Nick. “Would you like me to give you a check as a retainer, Mr. Quimbley?”

  “Your wife did that as soon as I arrived. I do have one question, though.” He looked at Vernon. “I sometimes bring one of my partners with me when I work a case. Would you object to the extra expense?”

  “Of course not.” Vernon didn’t hesitate. “You do whatever you think is necessary. I’d like to get this over with as soon as possible, for my wife’s sake.”

  After a quick handshake, Vernon closed the door behind Nick, then cursed silently. Just get this Mindy business over with, and don’t dig deep enough to find out anything about Davidson Industries.

  He plastered on a smile and returned to the living room.

  Rebecca had already poured their drinks. “I hope you didn’t mind him being here at this time of day, Vernon.”

  He took his martini. “Of course not. I was surprised you enlisted the help of a detective, though. I’m sure the police would have found her.”

  “Probably, but I know they’re very busy, and on impulse I looked up detectives and found Nick’s agency. I thought he might be better help.”

  “He just might be. I want you to explore all avenues you can think of to find Mindy. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can think of something to help.”

  “Thank you.”

  He put his arm around her and led her to the sofa. “You know I’ll do everything I can for the woman I love. Now, let’s have a little talk and decide what we want to do for dinner.”

  “I’ve already decided.” She smiled at him.

  “What would you like to do?”

  “We had chicken for lunch, and it’s Wilma’s night off. If we have any chicken left, do you think you could whip up some of that delicious stir-fry you’re so good at making?”

  “That’s a good idea.” He kissed the top of Rebecca’s head. “I’ll use olive oil and make sure to keep it low in calories. I think that would be good for you.”

  Rebecca dropped her head. “I’m sure you’re right.”

  He smiled at her. “We’ll eat and call it an early night. Today has been a trying day for both of us.”

  “You’re good to me, Vernon. I do appreciate it,” she mumbled. Then she followed him into the kitchen.

  Chapter 7

  He pushed the gas pedal and let the car get up to seventy, the posted speed limit on this section of I-40. The Highway Patrol usually allowed people to go five miles over the limit, but he wasn’t going to chance it. He was making good time because he’d been on the road for only two hours and was almost halfway there. If all went well, he’d be able to deposit the body and be back in town before daylight.

  That should work well, even though tomorrow would be a hard day with little sleep. He could pull it off. He would pretend illness if he had to.

  Pushing the jazz music CD into the slot, then sipping coffee from his thermos, he relaxed. Everything was going to be fine. He didn’t want to say it out loud, but he had accomplished what many before him had tried and failed to do—he’d pulled off the perfect murder.

  At just past one o’clock in the morning, he pulled into South Port. When he’d first begun to plan the murder, the town had popped into his head. He remembered his one visit here, though it had been many years ago, and especially remembered the Old Smithfield Burying Grounds. That was where he’d made a promise to his mother. A promise he’d never kept.

  Though, in a way I’m fulfilling the promise now, only I’m keeping it with Mindy’s body. He chuckled.

  Another contributing factor to his bringing the body here was that no one he knew had any idea he’d ever been to South Port. He’d never mentioned the town to anyone, and nobody had ever mentioned it to him. Therefore, in his mind, it became the perfect place to dispose of Mindy’s body and confuse every law officer in the state.

  He drove past the graveyard and pulled onto Nash Street. The only house on this street was on the corner. It was dark. He cut off the lights and pulled up beside the brick and iron fence around the cemetery. He sat in the car for a few minutes and waited to see if he’d been observed coming into town. When he felt safe, he got out and opened the rear door. The body was still stiff, making it easy to carry.

  The grave, if he remembered correctly, sat in the center of the burial ground near the front. He had enough moonlight to see the shapes of the stones. The one he wanted was rounded on top.

  Though several rounded ones were scattered throughout the area, he found the one he wanted quickly. He placed the body behind the headstone, removed the sheet, and took his time smoothing her hair and placing the dress around her carefully. He wanted her to look as if she were merely asleep.

  Satisfied, he stood back and glanced around. The twisted, gnarled shapes of the huge magnolia trees surrounding the cemetery made him shudder a little.

  “I’ve got to get out of here,” he whispered.

  When he was a few steps from the body, he turned and looked at her.

  “Mindy, my love, let’s see how many lives you can screw up now.” He blew her a kiss and took long strides back to the car. The sheet caught on the corner of a private gravesite surrounded by a wrought iron fence. He jerked it loose and hurried on.

  His heart pounded as he started the motor. He needed to be careful. He couldn’t let his emotions take over now. Driving the speed limit, he made his way back through the shopping district to Highway 211.

  Once he turned, he knew the rest of the trip would be easy. He only had to make it back to I-40, and he’d be home free. Looking at his watch, he knew he had time to stop at one of the all night chain restaurants and pick up some fresh coffee. He wouldn’t go in, though. He’d use the drive-through. He still didn’t want to be seen in the area, and he figured he could slouch and pull the ball cap down over his eyes. That way, if they had surveillance cameras at the drive-through, they wouldn’t get a recognizable picture.


  Still, he decided to wait until he was on the other side of Wilmington before he stopped. He’d get a refill there, and then he could be home in three to four hours.

  Chapter 8

  Rebecca opened her eyes to sunlight streaming through the window. It had to be later than she usually got up. Automatically, she turned over and reached for Vernon. He wasn’t there. She pushed herself into a sitting position and looked at the clock. She’d slept until eight-thirty.

  A little frightened, she sat on the side of the bed and pushed the buzzer on the phone.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Wilma’s voice came on the other end of the line.

  “I overslept, Wilma. Is Mr. Armfield still here?”

  “He left at his usual time, ma’am. Said you were sleeping so well he didn’t want to wake you.”

  “Thank you, Wilma.”

  “May I bring you some coffee, Ms. Rebecca?”

  “That would be nice. And maybe a piece of toast.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Rebecca smiled. Vernon was nice to let her rest. And it had felt good, though it was unlike her to sleep so late. In fact, she hadn’t slept a whole night in a long time. On the other hand, she hadn’t slept all of last night, either. She didn’t have a baby dream, but she must have dreamed something she didn’t remember. At one time, she had jumped and sat up in bed, wide awake.

  Her movements had awakened Vernon. She couldn’t help smiling when she thought of how sweet he’d been when he put his arm around her and talked to her gently. That had happened just after midnight. She knew the time because he’d gotten up and warmed some milk for her. Then he’d held her in his arms until they both went to sleep again.

  When they were first married, they had shared a lot of tender moments, but they now seemed so scarce. Since losing the baby, Rebecca had often wondered if Vernon had lost interest in her. She always pushed those thoughts away and rationalized that he was frequently tired, and she was not often the aggressive one. Especially when he kept telling her how hectic business had been lately.