Bunny Elder Adventure Series: Four Complete Novels: Hollow, Vain Pursuits, Seadrift, ...and Something Blue

by J. B. Hawker

  “Bob Miller was part of our church family, Walter. Although I did not know him well, he was a choir member with a lovely voice and a fellow human being. Isn’t that reason enough to be upset?”

  Bunny turned and practically ran onto Emily’s front porch and rang the bell.

  Walter stood staring at the door for several minutes after Bunny had gone inside. He was thinking.

  Walter was trying to understand why Mrs. Elder was so upset.

  Failing to understand, he shrugged and continued on his way.

  Once inside, Bunny felt foolish for getting upset with Walter. His lack of social skills was not his fault, after all. Poor guy. She hoped he wasn’t insulted by the way she ran off.

  Emily greeted Bunny with a hug.

  “What’s up? I know it is upsetting to hear about Bob being killed, but I didn’t think you and he were especially close. Is there something else the matter?”

  Bunny removed her coat, plopped down on Emily’s overstuffed sofa and sighed.

  “I didn’t just hear about Bob’s death, Emmy. I identified the body.”

  “How ghastly for you, dear. How did that happen?”

  Bunny told Emily about the morning’s events while the two women sipped from the mugs of hot cocoa Emily brought in from the kitchen.

  Her friend was so sympathetic to Bunny’s ordeal she was tempted to unburden herself about Max, as well.

  “Emmy, you know my boss, Max Banks, who was with me when we found Bob?”

  “Sure, you’ve talked about him, but I don’t believe we’ve met,” she answered, without much animation.

  “You may not be aware of it, but I was married before I met Eustace.”

  “Really? Were you widowed once before?”

  Emily was definitely interested, now.

  “Why haven’t you ever mentioned that to me?”

  “Eustace didn’t like me to talk about it. You see, I was not a widow. I was divorced several years before meeting Eustace. He thought the knowledge could be confusing for some of the weaker brothers and sisters,” she explained.

  Bunny went on, “I was married right after high school graduation to my childhood sweetheart. We were just too young and it only lasted a couple of years. Anyway, my first husband was Max Banks.”

  Emily looked stunned by Bunny’s revelations.

  “Bunny, I thought we were close...that we knew each other so well. How could I not know any of this?”

  Emily was more than stunned. She was hurt.

  Bunny decided she’d shocked Emily enough for one night and would not ask her advice about her current relationship with Max, after all.

  Maybe later, when Emily had recovered a little.

  “Well, I couldn’t very well tell you when Eustace specifically asked me not to, could I? And, I am telling you now. Please don’t be angry with me, Emmy.”

  “But, how in the world did you happen to go to work for him? Have you kept in touch all these years?”

  Emily now seemed mollified and more curious than offended.

  Bunny explained how Max returned to Clark’s Hallow, and then told the story of her job hunt and the series of misunderstandings which led to her work at the paper.

  She concluded by confessing she was having a little trouble adjusting to her ex-husband as her employer.

  “My feelings are all muddled up and I can’t decide what our relationship should be.”

  Bunny felt she could share this much of the truth with her friend.

  After chatting, they watched an old “Everybody Loves Raymond” rerun and went to bed.

  Emily’s guestroom mattress was softer than Bunny was used to. She tossed and turned long into the night, uncomfortable from unfamiliar bed and from her own restless thoughts.

  Chapter 16

  It‘s disgusting for men to have sex with one another, and those who do will be put to death, just as they deserve.–Leviticus 20:13

  “Now we are getting somewhere,” Fuchs told Sergeant Michelson.

  “Two of these killings have a gay component. That’s surely not a coincidence.”

  Michelson reminded the Lieutenant, “All we’ve got on the latest one is that woman’s suggestion about the sign left on the corpse. We know Thomas was into gay prostitution, sure, but there’s nothing solid on Bob Miller.”

  “Not yet, maybe,” Fuchs conceded, “But we’ve got something to look into, at least. I have people checking into Miller’s background. We’ll come up with something. Forensics is encouraging, too.”

  “The killer spent hours in close contact with that corpse. They are bound to come up with something we can use to nail the guy, once we bring him in. I feel hopeful about this case at last, Michelson, so don’t rain on my parade, okay?”

  “I hope you’re right, Lieutenant, I want to get this guy off the streets as bad as you do,” the sergeant replied.

  He went on, “That other mutilated body still has to turn up somewhere. It will be lots better if we’ve already got the guy who did it when that happens.”

  “Tell me something I don’t already know, Michelson. Let’s go home. It’s been a long day.”

  Walking down the hall, he turned to the sergeant. and said, “I wonder who won the contest.”

  

  “Sally! Sally, you’ll never believe this. Come look!”

  Yance Trainor shouted to his wife from the front porch where he stood holding the Clarion-Review.

  Sally was on a ladder in the living room pulling the plastic film off of the inside of the windows.

  She could not wait to get the Halloween decorations down and into the trash.

  “I can’t come right now, Yance. You come here and help me,” she called.

  “We won, Sally. We actually won the contest! And there’s no mention in the article about the body being found on our veranda.”

  Yance stood at the foot of the ladder and helped his wife with a long piece of plastic.

  “I am surprised, Yance. Although we were not in any way responsible, I suppose I thought if the contest went on, we would be disqualified,” his wife commented.

  “I’m glad we won. We can use the money to get away from all this for a few days, once we’ve got the decorations taken care of,” Yance said.

  “This has been one helluva Halloween.”

  

  Dinks Dodd read the on-line version of the Clarion and snorted.

  “Hmmf! Mine was better by a mile. Oh well. I might not have won the stupid little contest, but I got what I wanted out of it, and then some.”

  Chuckling to himself, he reached for his beer.

  

  The Rodriguez family was not aware of the outcome of the contest.

  As soon as the police were through with their investigations, the family had removed all of their Halloween/Day of the Dead ornaments from the outside of their home. Within a few days, they left the area for an extended visit to Oaxaca, where they were hoping to relocate permanently.

  Torito found a new home with the neighbors who were looking after him.

  Ramsey Lewis dismantled his Halloween trimmings well before the judging, also. Without his Tom Dooley, it just was not the same.

  

  Max and Bunny were sharing their usual post-publication coffee break and chatting.

  “Somehow, I feel like the end of the contest and the announcement of the winners will mean the end of all the horribleness, too. I suppose that’s childish,” Bunny commented.

  “No, not at all,” Max replied, “I feel the same way, as if writing the conclusion to the contest put a period to the whole mess. Although, it won’t really be finished until they catch that bastard.”

  Bunny always flinched, inwardly, when Max swore.

  She tried to tell herself words did not mean anything, but she could not help feeling otherwise.

  Max, as a newspaperman, should certainly understand the power words can have. She did not say anything, though. There was no way to complain without seeming prudish
and supercilious.

  She did not like it, even so.

  “Well, maybe we can get back to normal now, anyway. What do you propose to work on for the feature story for next week? We’ve focused on the murders and the contest since I’ve been working here.”

  Smiling, Max said, “I suppose we will cover any news about the investigation as it comes up, and we will definitely have an item covering Miller’s funeral. How would you like to report on that?”

  “As an assignment, you mean? A reporting assignment? Of course, I’m planning to attend...I’ve been meaning to ask you for the time off...but, you mean cover it as a reporter?”

  “That’s the general idea. You are going to be there, anyway, as you said. You can go and still get paid for it. What do you think?” Max asked.

  “If you think I can do it, then I’m willing to try, certainly. Are you sure?” Bunny asked, anxiously.

  “Of course, I’m sure. Just get the facts and note anything unusual or of general interest. I’ll help you polish it up for the paper,” Max reassured her.

  “Oh, well, if you are sure I can do it, you probably won’t have to do much polishing. I have written lots of articles for church newsletters over the years. How much harder can it be?” Bunny bridled.

  Max laughed.

  “Bunny you are so weird, sometimes. A real mixed bundle of insecurities and over-confidence. Just turn in your report on the funeral and we will see how much polishing it needs. Newspapers usually have a slightly higher standard than amateur church newsletters, you know.”

  Bunny blushed, “Of course, you’re right. I don’t know why I am acting this way. I’ll try to do a good job.”

  Max put his arms around Bunny and kissed her.

  “You are still shaken up from yesterday. Don’t worry about it, okay?” he said comfortingly.

  “Besides, I like my women a little weird sometimes.”

  Bunny pulled away.

  “If I’m going to be out on assignment tomorrow, I’d better get busy, or the boss will be mad.”

  Max, frowned slightly, shrugged, then returned to his desk, where he opened his bookkeeping software and began to concentrate on the financial statement.

  Bunny was upset.

  Max’s comment about how he liked his “women” did not sit well. It reminded Bunny that Max had always liked his women in multiples.

  He wasn’t able to remain faithful to one woman in the past. What made her think he would be able to do so now?

  Bunny had gone through so much in the last few months, she was not thinking clearly.

  She was concerned about Max’s lack of faith, but had not even considered his habitual lack of faithfulness.

  Everything was becoming all too complicated.

  “Max,” Bunny stood next to his desk to get his attention, “I’ve got a splitting headache. Would it be alright if I leave a little early tonight?”

  

  Michelson read the fax, and then walked into Lieutenant Fuchs’s office.

  “We’ve got an ID on the head and arm, Lieutenant. The dental records and fingerprints were a positive match.”

  “Good. Who was the victim? What sort of info do we have on him?”

  “He was a homeless man named Rufus Wilson. He’s been booked up and down the state on various petty offenses.”

  “Any gay connection?”

  “Not so far. You really think that’s going to play out?”

  Michelson seemed skeptical.

  “I do. Not only is it our best bet, so far, but it makes sense, sort of, if our killer is a whacked out homophobe. You hear about stuff like this all the time.”

  “Not just like this, you don’t. However, maybe you are right. Have you gotten any further tracing Thomas’s movements on the night he died?”

  Lieutenant Fuchs brought his sergeant up to date on the interviews at the Oasis Club, the site of the last known morals arrest in the county.

  So far, none of the regulars had suggested the place was a gay bar, but it was known for some homosexual activity in the past.

  No one they spoke to was willing to admit to having ever seen Winston Thomas.

  This county was not like San Francisco, or some other large cities, where the gay life style was not only tolerated, but seemingly welcomed as an enlightened choice.

  Rural Northern California was much more similar to rural areas of the Midwest or South. Being openly homosexual here was a decidedly uncomfortable proposition.

  Fuchs was not surprised to encounter resistance to his questions. In fact, he had been toying with an unorthodox idea to get around that reluctance.

  One of Fuchs’s fellow officers in the Southern California precinct where he worked before was an openly gay man.

  Robert Simpson had been a great police officer and a good friend. He still worked in Los Angeles.

  Fuchs was considering asking him to take a few vacation days in the beautiful north state and make a couple of discreet visits to the Oasis Club while he was here.

  If the bar turned out to be a gay hang out, Simpson would be able to spot it. If he were willing, he might be able to find out if Thomas had been there the night he died.

  Fuchs was leery of approaching Simpson, though.

  While they were colleagues and friends, they had steered clear of the whole sexual-orientation issue.

  “Hell, he can only say ‘No’, and this is important. I’m calling,” Fuchs growled to no one in particular, as he picked up the phone.

  

  When the doorbell rang, Bunny thought Max had come by after work in spite of her supposed headache.

  She was annoyed, but when she opened the door to find her new pastor standing there, she was disappointed.

  “Pastor Jim! What a nice surprise,” she prevaricated.

  “What brings you here?”

  “Good evening, Mrs. Elder. I hope you will forgive me for stopping by without calling first. Is this a convenient time for you?” Rev. Richards asked.

  “Of course,” she lied again. “Come in, won’t you?”

  “Your wife isn’t with you?” Bunny asked while looking toward the man’s car in the driveway.

  “Uh, no. I felt it would be better to leave Elizabeth and the children at home on this visit,” he replied.

  Bunny showed the minister into her living room and asked him to make himself comfortable.

  “I was just making a pot of tea. Would you like a cup, Pastor Jim?” she inquired.

  “Thank you, no. I don’t require any refreshment. Mrs. Elder, this isn’t strictly a social call, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’ve come to return something to you which belonged to your late husband,” Richards began.

  “If it’s more of Eustace’s bits and bobs from the office, I appreciate your consideration, but you should have just thrown them away. I’m sure they are not important.”

  “My first instinct when I found these items in your husband’s desk was to do just that...throw them in the trash. However, I feared a garbage man or some homeless person going through the trash would be exposed to them.”

  “Exposed? Is it something contagious?”

  “In a way, yes. Pornography can be extremely virulent in a community,” Richards intoned.

  “Pornography? What in the world are you talking about? Eustace never had pornography,” Bunny assured him.

  Rev. Richards bent down and retrieved the briefcase from beside his chair.

  For the first time, Bunny noticed how heavy and ominous it looked.

  “Surely you didn’t bring naughty pictures here to show me, Pastor.”

  “Mrs. Elder, this is extremely painful for me, as you can imagine. However, one must confront sin wherever one finds it. It was my misfortune to find this evidence of your husband’s sin. He is now beyond mortal confrontation. You, however, as his wife, share the burden of his sin. At your marriage, you became one flesh. That is why I felt compelled to confront you in this way.”

>   Bunny’s mouth was hanging open in amazement.

  She was as shocked at the minister’s strange theology as she was by his accusations against Eustace. The Bible is very strong on personal accountability. She had never heard the “one flesh” reference used in quite this way.

  Even when the Old Testament warns about the sins of the fathers being upon the children for seven generations, it refers to the long-range consequences of failing to live by God’s rules, rather than to guilt-by-association or unfair punishment of the innocent.

  The theology of punishing a wife for her late husband’s sins seemed more likely to belong to some extreme Middle Eastern religion than to Christianity.

  Her pastor continued, “You must look upon these vile images I have here, so you can be aware of the depravity existing in your union with this man. Then you can repent and do penance. One must be aware of one’s sins in order to truly repent.”

  As the pastor spoke, he was pulling magazines out of his briefcase.

  He arranged them, opened to the photographs, on the sofa around Bunny, like a salesman displaying his wares.

  Reluctantly, Bunny looked at them...they were certainly pornographic.

  They were vile, as Richards said, and more shocking than Bunny expected.

  Bunny had seen dirty pictures before. She found most of them tasteless and off-putting, but the naked human body did not shock her.

  What jolted her now was seeing all of the photos were of men and boys. This was homosexual pornography.

  After her initial stunned revulsion, Bunny pulled herself together.

  There was obviously an innocent explanation for these pictures having been in Eustace’s desk.

  “Rev. Richards, I think you have made a mistake. You are very young and new to the ministry, so we can make allowances when your inexperience leads you to make false assumptions like this. You didn’t know my husband, or you would know there is a perfectly innocent explanation.”

  “I hardly think these are innocent images, Mrs. Elder...” he began.

  Bunny interrupted him.

  “I can’t know for certain why my husband had these pictures in his possession, but I can easily imagine several scenarios explaining their presence in his desk. For one, someone else may have put them there after his death.”