Suddenly regaining his focus, Sheriff Johnson walked over and turned his attention to a dry erase board facing his desk. Images of the crime scene were splashed across the surface. Dozens of notes were written in thick marker beside photos of Timmy’s lifeless body.
Removing one of the pictures from the board, the sheriff studied it closely while shaking his head. “What happened to you, boy?” Exasperated, the sheriff took a deep breath and walked back over to sit down in his chair again.
The intercom beeped on his phone speaker. “Sheriff Johnson, the district attorney is here.”
“Go ahead and send him in. Thank you.”
Only a moment later, rapping came from the door. “Come on in, Counselor,” the sheriff shouted.
The door opened and John walked in carrying his briefcase and a cup of coffee. “Morning, Sheriff. What time did you get home last night?”
Sheriff Johnson stood up and shook John’s hand. “Too late, John. My wife wasn’t happy with me for missing dinner either.”
John sat in the armchair in front of the sheriff’s desk and set his briefcase on the floor. “So have you found out anything about Timothy Fields’ death yet?”
Sheriff Johnson sat down again and leaned back in his chair. “Well, the forensics team scavenged the pond area all afternoon yesterday, and the body was transported to the morgue. We still need to determine cause of death, but fortunately we found the body quickly. It also didn’t hurt that it was freezing temperatures. We think there is foul play involved.”
“Really? When are they supposed to finish the autopsy?”
“Hopefully, it’ll be done by the end of the day. We put a rush on it for obvious reasons. I’ve asked the parents to meet me at the morgue at 10:00 this morning to question them, and so they can officially identify the body.”
“Maybe we can figure out what happened. Do you need anything from me now?”
Pointing to the board, the sheriff said, “Feel free to take a look at our crime board and see if you notice anything that stands out. Are you able to come to the morgue and talk to the coroner with me?”
John glanced at his schedule on his smartphone and said, “I don’t have court this morning, and I can get my assistant to reschedule the one appointment I have right now. I’ll go pick up Katy on my way there. Since I hired her as my paralegal, I’ve been giving her a variety of experiences when I can. She hasn’t gotten to meet the coroner yet.”
“Sounds good. So, have you popped the question yet?”
John smiled and replied, “Not yet, but I have something special planned soon.”
Sheriff Johnson sipped of his coffee. “You sure you’re ready?”
“Oh, I am definitely ready, Sheriff. Katy’s one in a million, and I’m not letting her get away,” John chuckled.
“She is a catch. Good luck with the proposal. Hope she says ‘yes’ for your sake. I can’t imagine how pitiful you will be if she doesn’t,” the sheriff chuckled and smiled.
John grabbed his briefcase and laughed. “You aren’t kidding. I’d be a mess. Do we need to talk about anything else before I head out? I need to make some calls so everything’s worked out with my schedule.”
“Nah, I think that’s about it for now,” the sheriff said. Standing up again, he reached out his hand.
John stood up and shook the sheriff’s hand. “Thanks, Sheriff. I guess I’ll see you at 10:00.”
“See you then, Counselor. Drive safe. There are a bunch of icy patches still on the roads.”
As John opened the door, he replied, “No worries. I’m very careful. See you soon.” Waving, he walked out the door and closed it behind him.
CHAPTER 11
John and Katy arrived at Wattsville Memorial Hospital, where a large crowd of reporters had already gathered. Their eager ambition to get the latest break in the news story was evident as John parked near the building.
“Damn, freaking reporters!” shouted John. “They know who I am and will try to ask me a bunch of questions. Just don’t say anything or even stop to talk to them, Katy.”
She looked at John and replied, “All right, sweetheart.”
As John opened his car door, reporters ran directly toward him. Several cameramen zoomed in on the scene as each reporter pushed past one another in an attempt to interview the district attorney. John walked around and opened the car door for Katy, avoiding as many of those crowding around him as possible. Nonetheless, he was bombarded with a tidal wave of questions.
“Are they releasing who was killed?”
“What was the cause of death? Was the boy murdered?”
“Did he die from exposure in the snowstorm?”
“I’ve no idea. I do not have any details that I can discuss. I’m not able to comment at this time because they still have to do the autopsy. The information will be released as soon as possible.”
“Can you at least release the name?”
Raising his hands, John announced, “No more questions, please.”
“How old was the boy?” one man asked.
“Will there be an investigation, Mr. District Attorney?”
“Who’s the lovely lady with you, Mr. Smith?” another woman asked.
John turned around and firmly pushed one microphone out of his face. “I said, I’m not commenting on anything at this time.”
Turning around, John wrapped his arm around Katy’s waist and ushered her towards the hospital entrance. They pushed their way through the crowd as the reporters continued to follow them with their microphones stretched out.
John turned around and glared angrily at the reporters. He raised his hands in an attempt to calm them down. “Listen, I appreciate the fact that you have a job to do, but there’s a grieving family in this hospital who needs your support, not your comments and inquisitions.”
The questions continued to flow freely despite John’s words of caution to the group of reporters flocking around him and Katy. Leaving the reporters behind them as quickly as possible, John continued to hold onto Katy as they hurried inside the hospital.
* * * *
After entering the hospital doors, John and Katy turned a corner and immediately heard a loud wailing sound. Herbert stood in the waiting room with his arms wrapped around Margie. She was crying into his chest as she lightly pounded it with her fist.
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” Margie mumbled into his shirt as she grasped his sleeves.
Patting her back gently, Herbert did his best to comfort his grieving wife. Unable to say a word, he simply held her close to his chest.
Walking back and forth in another corner of the waiting room, Mother Superior Mary Ellen silently prayed, clutching her rosary beads. One by one, she held each bead between her thumb and forefinger as her hands shook. Heading over towards Herbert and Margie, Mother Superior said, “God, grant you peace through this hour of need. Please let me know if I can be of any help.”
Respectfully waiting until Mother Superior was finished, Sheriff Johnson walked over and gently tapped her on the shoulder. “Mother, I need to ask you a few questions, please.”
“Of course, would you like to go to the chapel?”
“No, but we can go over to that empty table,” the sheriff said as he pointed towards a vacant side room for extra seating. He went over and held out a chair for her to sit down. Mother Superior took her seat as he sat across from her. He took a pen and tablet out of his pocket.
“You are aware that they found Timmy Fields’ body in the monastery pond yesterday, right?” he began his questioning.
“Yes, I know about Timmy Fields’ body being found. I stayed with the Fields couple overnight to make sure they had someone there to console them for their loss. Remember?”
“I had to make sure you are aware of the situation, Mother. I need to find out anything you know about the boy’s disappearance and drowning,” the sheriff replied.
John walked over and sat beside the Sheriff. “Hello, Mother Superior. Do you remember me?
I’m District Attorney John Smith.”
“Of course, I remember you. I even taught you a few times in Sunday School when you were a child. You even came with your parents to services until you got older.”
John smiled and took out a note pad and pen, setting it on the table in front of him.
Sheriff Johnson cleared his throat and asked her, “Mother, please tell us about Timmy Fields. Do you think he would ever harm himself?”
“Oh, never! He was a wonderful student and a very hard worker. Timmy showed promise of becoming a successful young man. May his soul rest in peace.” Mother Superior crossed herself as she spoke. “We will all miss him; especially me. I knew him even when he was just a tot. He was so cute.” Mother’s bottom chin trembled as she brushed away a streaming tear. “This is so unfair. He was so young; a life not yet fully lived. To answer your question, I do not think he would kill himself. He was a little bit rough around the edges, but he was a good boy at heart.”
“So when was the last time you saw Timmy Fields alive?” Sheriff Johnson asked.
Taking a deep breath while adjusting her habit, she said in a shaky voice, “Well, I do know that he stayed and did some detention work after school. I saw him about 4 p.m., and he said he was almost ready to head home. I asked if he needed a ride, but Timmy said he didn’t have far to walk and he would be fine. I should have made sure he got a ride home instead. I feel horrible, but the last time I saw him he was alive in the custodian shed.”
Staring intently at Mother Superior, Sheriff Johnson’s eyebrows merged across his forehead. “So, were you the last one to see him alive?”
Mother Superior wrung her hands as her heart began to race. “I … I don’t know. I imagine that he left shortly after I saw him, but I don’t know if anyone else saw him after I did.”
Sheriff Johnson focused his attention on her as John listened. “So, you said that he was doing chores for his detention? What did he do to deserve that?”
“Nothing serious, Sheriff. He wasn’t following school uniform policies, and he didn’t shave,” Mother said, wringing her hands.
“Did he earn a lot of these detentions? Was he a troubling teen at all?” he asked.
“I already told you that he wasn’t a bad kid,” she replied firmly.
“All right. Did you talk about anything else before you left?”
“I just made sure that he was able to make it home, and then wished him a good night. That is about it.”
“Did you have anything against the boy?”
Mother Superior put her hands up to her chest. She glanced out the window peering down at the new reporters. “I had nothing against him at all, Sheriff! Are you accusing me? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Sheriff Johnson watched Mother Superior’s reaction to every question thrown at her. He could see she was nervous and very uncomfortable with all the questions tossed at her all at once.
John interjected, “We’re trying to get to the bottom of this.”
Sheriff Johnson cleared his throat. Leaning in towards her, he said, “Look, you were the last one to see him alive. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t question you about your relationship with the boy.”
The corners of John’s mouth slightly lifted when he saw the confrontation.
With a sigh of frustration, Mother Superior clapped her hands together as if she was in the classroom with students. “Gentlemen, I have a school to run. I grieve for the boy, but I did not have anything to do with harming him in any way. I love my students.”
Sheriff Johnson inserted his notebook back inside his pocket. “Mother Superior, please make sure you’re available for any further questioning. I will most likely need to speak with you again very soon.”
John put away his notebook and nodded at them both before returning to Katy’s side. Mother Superior stood up and walked back to console the Fields as they awaited more news from the coroner.
CHAPTER 12
After leaving the waiting room, Sheriff Johnson headed over to the coroner’s office. Approaching the assistant coroner’s desk, he said, “I’m Sheriff Johnson. Is Dr. Grant available?”
“He’s finishing up with an autopsy right now. I’ll let him know you’re here.” A short red-head with freckles stood up and walked into the adjacent room. The door was marked Employees Only. After only a few seconds, she returned and told the sheriff, “He’ll be right with you, Sheriff.”
“Thank you, miss.” Sheriff Johnson tipped his hat politely then began to slowly pace back and forth while waiting.
Within a few minutes, a lanky, bald man wearing dark blue scrubs walked into the waiting area and smiled. Dr. Grant’s bright blue eyes looked very tired as he greeted the sheriff. “Hello, Sheriff Johnson. It’s been a while since I’ve had to work with you on a case. I just finished the autopsy for Timothy Fields. I think you need to come and take a look at this, Sheriff.”
“Sure thing, Dr. Grant.”
Dr. Barry Grant motioned for the sheriff to follow him in to the lab. Upon entering the doorway, they immediately saw Timmy Fields’ corpse on the examination table. Heading directly for the table, the sheriff took a deep breath as he saw the lifeless body yet again.
Pointing to the neck, Dr. Grant said, “In my preliminary findings, it seemed as if the victim was strangled with a rope. Just as a precaution, I am waiting for some blood tests to verify there isn’t another cause of death. It is possible that there was something in his system, and the rope was just a cover-up. We’ll see.”
“How long will it be before the results come back?”
“They may be ready later this afternoon,” Dr. Grant replied. “I’ll let you know as soon as I get them back.”
“I think I need to call the forensics team for the Maine’s Chief Medical Examiner in on this one. This is going to be so hard on the Fields, but I’ll wait to tell them until after we know the exact cause of death. When do you think you’ll finish up your final report, Doc?”
“I can have it done by noon tomorrow.”
As the sheriff turned to leave, he said, “Thanks, Dr. Grant. Please call me as soon as you can.”
“Sure thing, Sheriff,” the doctor said as the door closed.
* * * *
Returning to the waiting room, the sheriff sighed as he saw the grieving parents sitting in a far corner. Mother Superior and Sister Margaret were still sitting close by and praying as they held their rosary beads. Walking up to the Fields, the sheriff sat down beside them.
He said calmly, “Mr. and Mrs. Fields, it’s going to be tomorrow before the final autopsy report is finished. You should go home and get some rest. It’s been an exhausting couple of days for you, I’m sure. I’ll call you as soon as I know everything.”
Margie blurted out, “Could they tell the cause of death, Sheriff?”
Clearing his throat, the sheriff replied, “There does appear to be some foul play, but we need to get some lab results back for a conclusive explanation as to the cause of his death. We should know that once the report is finished.”
Herbert wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulder and asked, “So, someone killed our boy?”
“We need to get that report back first, Herb,” Sheriff Johnson replied.
“Our baby was killed?” Margie asked as tears welled up in her bloodshot eyes.
“I didn’t say that, ma’am. We don’t want to jump to conclusions. Please don’t tell anyone until we release our findings, all right?” the sheriff instructed firmly.
Herbert and Margie both nodded and then embraced as they began to sob.
Feeling awkward, the sheriff stood up and said, “I’ll call you as soon as I know something. I promise.” He turned to walk away, feeling his own heart torn by their emotional response. I always hate talking to the victim’s relatives. It’s never gets any easier.
* * * *
As John and Katy exited the hospital, news reporters and television crews were scrambling all around the area. The couple could har
dly move since they were surrounded by the horde. Shoving microphones in John and Katy’s faces, the reporters were forceful with their ear piercing, dim-witted questions.
“Did you see the body?” one woman probed.
Another voice rang out from the crowd. “What was the cause of death?”
Despite all the questions hurled at them in rapid-fire succession, John and Katy kept methodically made their way through the large throng of reporters.
“Was it a murder, Mr. Smith?” a voice came from the back.
“What about you, miss? Can you tell us anything?” inquired a deep reporter’s voice.
Katy looked over at the man holding the microphone and answered, “No comment.”
“Are they doing an autopsy?” a female voice emerged from the crowd.
Yet, another woman’s voice resonated from the back, “Was the boy murdered?”
A voice rang out from the sideline, “When’s the funeral?”
John turned around and raised his hands. “No questions, please. I’m not at liberty to discuss any details at this time. I’m sure the sheriff will give you a statement after the autopsy report is completed.”
One woman carrying a notepad muscled her way to the front and followed them. “Or is this related to the Tom Green suicide? Or, is this just a coincidence?” she yelled out.
Everyone simmered down waiting for a response from John. He stopped dead in his tracks, turned around, and glared at her. “Everyone, please quiet down. The autopsy report has not been completed yet, so we do not know the cause of death for certain. Until we do, there is nothing to tell you. I do ask that you respect the family who lost their son.” John pointed at the hospital and said, “They are victims too, so please refrain from bombarding them with questions as you have been doing to us.”
John’s statement seemed to have no effect. The questions kept coming. John extended his arm out to make a way for Katy to walk towards the car. Katy could barely get by without knocking one of the reporters over. The reporters kept pursuing John in their questioning until John stood up and shouted, “Stay back!”
Secrets in the Shallows (Book 1: The Monastery Murders) Page 9