Secrets in the Shallows (Book 1: The Monastery Murders)

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Secrets in the Shallows (Book 1: The Monastery Murders) Page 12

by Karen Vance Hammond


  Mother Superior Mary Ellen waved them both in as she exclaimed, “Come on in, please. Did you see that terrible sight on your way up, Deputies? Isn’t it horrible?” Closing the door behind them, she wrapped herself up in a shawl.

  “Yes, ma’am. We’re going to go and take a look at it in just a second, but first, can I ask you some questions?”

  “Of course.”

  Deputy Williams asked her, “Do you know who would do such a thing? Anyone that has a grievance against the monastery or anyone here? Any information could be helpful.”

  Wringing her hands together, Mother Superior replied, “Well, a couple of years ago, I would’ve had a good idea, but since he is dead, then I don’t have any clue.”

  “Since who is dead?” Deputy Shamberg asked.

  “Tom Green; the one who committed suicide a while back. Since he is dead, I don’t know who could’ve done it.”

  “I see. I worked on that case earlier this year. It’s a very sad case. So, when did you notice the vandalism for the first time, Mother?”

  “The deer head and blood weren’t there when we retired for the night. No one heard anyone doing this, that I am aware of. I noticed it about 6 a.m., when I was opening up the monastery for the early cooking shift. They were about to begin making breakfast for all of the sisters.”

  “All right, Mother. Later, I’ll need to speak with any other sisters who first saw the damage, or heard any activity last night.”

  The elderly nun replied, “I’ll be happy to provide the names of those who were alert at that time.”

  Williams added, “Well if you think of anything, please let us know. In the mean time, keep inside the monastery in case there is evidence outside. We want to find out who did this, and even small clues can make a difference.”

  “Yes, sir. I just don’t know who could do something this horrible to the statue of our blessed Mother Mary,” she replied, almost in tears.

  “We aim to find out, Mother. I’ll let you as soon as we can,” Deputy Williams tipped his hat as he headed back out the door. Deputy Shamberg followed him outside.

  “Thank you both,” she replied as she closed the door behind them.

  * * * *

  Driving down the winding two-lane highway, Sheriff Johnson wondered how Lisa Tucker was going to react to his visit. Poor girl ... She just lost her boyfriend to some low-life, good-for-nothing killer. Driving into her driveway, Sheriff Johnson calmed his own emotions so he could do his job properly. Peering through his windshield at the two-story, light yellow Cape Cod, he took a long, deep breath. After getting out of his cruiser, he walked up to the door and knocked.

  A thin, young woman with brunette hair held back in a hair band pressed the remote to the TV. The channels flipped in seconds. A favorite red sweatshirt almost matched her bloodshot eyes. Upon hearing the knock at the door, Lisa Tucker jumped and looked toward the beveled glass in the front door. She saw a dark silhouette on the porch.

  “I’ll get it,” she called out as she stood up from the couch. When she opened the front door, her eyes widened. My gosh! What is he doing here?

  “Hi, Sheriff. How can I help you?” she asked shyly.

  “Lisa Tucker?”

  “Yes,” she replied with building anxiety.

  Within moments, an older woman appeared behind her. “Hello, Sheriff. How can we help you?”

  “I’m Sheriff Johnson. Are you Mrs. Tucker?”

  “Yes, I am Ann Tucker.”

  The sheriff asked, “May I have a word with your daughter, Lisa, please?”

  “Sheriff, have I done something wrong?” Lisa asked with a hint of concern.

  “No, I’m investigating the death of your boyfriend, Timmy Fields,” he replied.

  Lisa stood in the foyer, with her hand over her mouth. Her eyes began to fill up with tears.

  Ann Tucker immediately opened the door fully as she said, “Come in, Sheriff.” Gesturing towards a large, comfortable chair in the corner of the living room, she asked, “Do you care to sit down?”

  Taking off his hat, he replied, “Of course, thank you.”

  “Sorry for the noise,” Lisa said as she walked over to the coffee table and clicked the button on the TV remote, turning it off. “All I can do is watch TV. I haven’t slept well since Timmy...”

  Ann gestured for him to sit down and asked, “Would you like some water, Sheriff?”

  “No, thank you, ma’am.” Sheriff Johnson sat down in the adjacent chair while Lisa sat down on the couch. “I know this is hard.”

  Lisa stared directly at his face and said, “I know I’m young, but I really loved him, Sheriff.” With a deep sigh, Lisa squeezed her eyes tightly shut, trying to hold back the tears.

  Sheriff Johnson sat for a few moments until Lisa seemed able to proceed. “I need to ask you some questions. How long did you and Timmy date?”

  “We dated for two years and three months. We were talking about getting married after we both graduated from college. In fact, this weekend we were supposed to head over to Sanger and pick out a promise ring.”

  “Lisa, do you know anyone who might have had anything against Timmy? Did he have any enemies? Was he having any conflicts with anyone you know of, even if it seems insignificant?” he asked in a sympathetic tone.

  Lisa sat silent. Looking away from the sheriff, a streaming tear ran down her cheek. In her mind, Carter’s face kept haunting her.

  Ann supplied her with a tissue from a box kept on a side table.

  Lisa nodded her thanks as she dabbed at her eyes.

  Sheriff Johnson asked her, “Do you know anyone who may have wanted to get revenge or hurt him in anyway?”

  After taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Lisa swallowed hard. She dotted her red eyes, still finding it difficult to contain her emotions. Dark circles surrounding her eyes were evidence of the deep grief she was experiencing.

  Sheriff Johnson held up the plastic evidence bag containing the note that was found in his room. In an instant, recognition showed all over her face as she fixed her eyes on the white paper. Taking a few deep breaths, she looked away as she closed her eyes tightly. Lisa’s chin trembled as tears finally flowed freely down her cheeks.

  Sheriff Johnson leaned over close with the note in front of her face and asked, “Did you write this note to Timmy Fields?”

  Lisa’s tone became slightly defensive as she retorted, “That’s private.”

  “Not anymore,” Sheriff Johnson replied crisply. “This was found in his room when it was searched. Now, can you please tell me why you wrote it?”

  Taking another long, deep breath, Lisa began, “Carter and Timmy had been friends since they were in elementary school. They were on the lacrosse team together. Before the last season was over, Carter started making eyes at me. You know — flirting with me. Telling me how pretty I am.”

  Lisa continued, “I didn’t really care for him much. After all, I was with Timmy. When we would study together over at Timmy’s house, Carter would show up to study as well. It made me uncomfortable, and I know Timmy didn’t like it.”

  “Timmy was always so sweet; very passive. He always wanted to be everyone’s best friend.” Lisa’s voice trailed off for a second as she smiled slightly while recalling memories. Suddenly, she brought herself out of her thoughts and added, “Anyway, Carter would sit at the table and stare at me. I know Timmy noticed it, but he didn’t say anything. It bothered me, so I finally wrote him that note a couple of weeks ago to explain how I felt.”

  “Did Carter make any direct advances toward you?” Sheriff Johnson asked.

  “When I was walking home from school one day about a month ago, Carter came out of nowhere and started messing with me. He said crap like that I needed to break up with Timmy and go out with him. I remember him telling me that I was too good for Timmy and he could treat me like a special girl should be. I asked him what he meant by that.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He put his arm around me a
nd started to stroke my shoulder. I immediately moved away, like this.” Lisa jerked her body to the side.

  Sheriff Johnson nodded, “So you clearly let him know you were not interested?”

  “Yes.”

  Lisa closed her eyes and sighed, “I think he had some kind of crush on me for months, but finally got the courage to try to persuade me to start seeing him. At least, that’s how I took it. I told Carter that I couldn’t believe he would be such a sleaze, and to get lost. He got very angry and stormed off saying that I would change my mind soon.”

  “So, Carter has a temper?”

  Lisa instantly made eye contact as her eyes widened. “Oh, yes. Anything, and I mean anything, will set that boy off. I saw him beat a guy to a pulp once on the lacrosse field. It was so bad; the poor kid had to have cosmetic surgery on his face and teeth.”

  “So, there was blood?”

  “Oh, yes, sir; lots of it, too.”

  “So, was this beating at an organized game?”

  “No, it was just a group of lacrosse players practicing on their own. I went to watch Timmy play. This was a couple years ago. After that, Carter was sent to a private school to work on his anger management issues down in Blue Hull. They have a psychiatrist and counselors on staff to help with that sort of thing ... Kind’of like a place to help troubled teens.”

  “So you never told Timmy about Carter making physical advances toward you before you wrote the note?”

  “No, not at first.” Shrugging her shoulders, she said, “I thought it would blow over.”

  “And did it?”

  “No, it got worse ... much worse. Carter tried calling me on my cell, and I caught him staring at me all the time. I even think he was stalking me. Let me tell you this; I kept seeing him everywhere. It seemed he would follow me around at least a couple of places almost every day. I know how Carter is, and he doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants.”

  Pausing she said, “He scares me. That’s when I wrote the note. I haven’t been that talkative to Timmy; because I was afraid that Carter would come after him. I guess I was trying to protect him.”

  “Did Timmy ever talk to you about this note?”

  “Yes, and he was very upset about it, but couldn’t believe his friend would do something like that to him. Timmy was trying to figure out how to confront him about it. Of course, I told him not to worry, and nothing was going on with me and Carter. However, he knew how uncomfortable it was making me.”

  “Did Timmy believe you?”

  “I don’t think he did at first, but then I’m sure he changed his mind after he went over to Carter’s house. I secretly followed him and spied on them from the bushes so they wouldn’t see me. I was scared for him, especially when I heard yelling from the front door; then I saw Carter push Timmy to the ground.”

  Lisa looked away from the sheriff. Another tear ran down her cheek. “I remember Carter screaming, ‘I’m gonna’ get you good! I promise she will be mine!’ Next thing I heard, Timmy was dead. Carter was supposed to be his best friend.”

  Sheriff looked over the top of his glasses. “Ummmm. That is strange.”

  Glancing at the note in his hand, Sheriff Johnson said, “Lisa, I’m sorry I can’t let you keep this, because I need it as evidence. I will probably need to ask additional questions as I find out more information on the case. If it was Carter, I’ll need you to testify in court once it goes to trial.” With that, Sheriff Johnson stood to his feet. Replacing his hat on his head, he added, “Thank you for your time, Lisa and Mrs. Tucker. You have been very helpful.”

  Ann stood up and walked over towards the door to open it as the sheriff zipped his coat up.

  Almost unable to refrain from crying, Lisa said, “Sheriff, find the person who did this. Please?”

  Gently patting her on the arm, he softly said, “I’m working on it. You try to sleep. Okay?”

  Reaching the doorway, Sheriff Johnson turned around and said, “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

  Lisa bit her bottom lip as she softly replied, “Okay, Sheriff.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff,” Ann said.

  “You’re welcome. Just doing my job.” Nodding politely, Sheriff Johnson headed down the sidewalk and got into his cruiser then closed the door. Turning the key, he shifted his gear into drive and sped away in a hurry. I know exactly what I need to do next, he thought as he headed down the road.

  * * * *

  Meanwhile at the monastery, the deputies returned to the cruiser after their discussion with Mother Mary Ellen and opened the trunk. They retrieved an evidence kit from the trunk and then trudged through the snow toward the blood covered statue. As they approached, they could see a set of tracks in the snow coming to and from the woods.

  Deputy Williams pointed to the tracks and said, “Can you get some pictures of those tracks and see if there are any decent imprints in the snow? Also don’t forget to find the stride length. I’ll check out the statue.”

  “Why do you get all the fun parts?” Shamberg chuckled as he got out a camera and walked toward the tracks. He began taking pictures and measuring the tracks.

  Williams walked over toward the statue, glistening in the sun with the dark, syrupy blood covering the Blessed Mother’s head. Oblivious to the deer head resting in her arms, she continued gazing at her rosary beads and silently praying. The vacant eyes of the deer stared at the deputy as he set his kit down on a nearby bench and took out some latex gloves.

  As Deputy Williams took out his camera, he made sure to get photos from every angle. He spoke to his colleague. “We’ve been unusually busy this week. I can’t say that I enjoy it though.” Taking out a swab kit, he took samples of the blood and sealed it up in a bag. Marking it appropriately, he took out a large evidence bag and gently picked up the deer head.

  “Me either, Williams. I would much prefer having a quiet town to all of this.”

  Holding up the deer head, Deputy Williams chuckled, “Venison anyone?”

  “No, thanks!” Shamberg laughed. “I can only imagine where that has been.”

  “Me too,” Deputy Williams replied, chuckling.

  “These imprints would belong to someone 5’9 to 5’11. Do you think it’s related to the body being found, or just a coincidence?”

  “It does seems strange it happened right after Timmy’s body was found.” Williams shrugged and said, “It’s possible, but kind’of hard to tell from what we see right now. Maybe there will be something on the deer head that will give us some clues we need.”

  “I hope so. We already have a lot going on. It’d be nice for it to be something easier to solve.”

  “We’ll see. I’ll leave that to the geek squad to figure out. I heard that the sheriff may call on the state’s forensics team for this one. It’s a little more than what we’re prepared to handle with our staff.”

  Deputy Williams smiled and said, “I hope so. We can use the help.”

  “I agree,” Deputy Shamberg commented. “It’d be nice to see what they can do.”

  Williams nodded as the pair continued to gather their evidence while the sun beamed down from the deep blue sky. “Let’s hurry and get this done so we can get back to the department. I still have a ton of stuff to do today. Plus, the Fields are coming in around two to get their prints taken.”

  “Fine by me,” Shamberg replied as he finished jotting down some notes for his record.

  CHAPTER 17

  Herbert and Margie Fields parked in the lot adjacent to the police station. The old New England Cape Code style building had been the home of the Wattsville Sheriff’s Department for many decades, and stood imposingly near the county courthouse.

  The Fields couple walked arm-in-arm up the steps to the front door. Herbert opened the door for his wife to enter first. In the main lobby, they approached a massive counter that actually extended the length of the room. A deputy and a secretary earnestly typed away on computers, barely stopping long enough to look up at the grieving parents. A
coffee table reminiscent of the 70s was nestled the corner, alongside a leather couch where an elderly woman sat patiently waiting.

  Hanging from the wall on the far end of the room was a rather large portrait. The stoic gaze from the eyes of George Washington were focused on the doorway. An American flag had been appropriately placed next to America’s first president. On the opposite wall, oil paintings of Jefferson, Adams and Lincoln looked toward the flag from the other side of the lobby. Above the presidential portrait display, a flag depicting the thirteen colonies was mounted respectfully on the wall.

  Herbert addressed a desk clerk, “We are Herbert and Margie Fields. We’re supposed to meet with Sheriff Johnson at 2 p.m.”

  As Deputy Williams passed by in an adjacent hallway, he saw the Fields at the counter and walked in to greet them. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Fields. Thank you for coming so quickly. Sheriff is taking care of a few things before he meets with you, but I can go ahead and take care of your prints while you wait.”

  “Thank you, Deputy. We want to do anything we can to help solve our son’s murder. Is there any news yet?”

  “Go ahead and follow me while we talk, please.”

  Margie and Herbert followed the deputy down the long wooden hallway.

  Deputy Williams continued, “It’s still too early to know very much. We are working on the evidence we’ve gathered. It will take some time to find the person who did this.”

  Reaching a small room, the deputy flicked on the light as they entered. An Automated Fingerprint Identification System (AFIS) machine set ominously in front of them on the table. Deputy Williams held out the ink and Herbert pressed his fingertips down on the black foam.

  Williams smiled, “It’s not like it used to be where you had to press your fingers down on a card. We have the latest technology. All you have to do is place your hand on this glass and the machine takes a picture. That’s it.”

  Herbert pressed his right hand down on the glass and watched the machine copy his prints. Margie did the same, and within minutes, their fingerprint identities were in the system.

 

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