Death Opens a Window

by Mikel J. Wilson

  Randy raised his hand, while Jeff returned to Emory and cropped the picture around the face so the location could not be discerned.

  “What was that all about?”

  “No time to explain. Just trust me. What’s your dad’s number?”

  Emory gave him the number, and Jeff walked away. He reached the outskirts of the crowd and was about to make a phone call when he noticed the sheriff a few feet away, talking to an elderly woman.

  The sheriff removed his hat to talk to her. “Yes ma’am, it’s been a hectic first week for me. Makes me thankful for quiet days like today.”

  “I was so sorry to hear about your predecessor. Do they know what killed him?”

  “Heart attack.”

  “Such a tragedy.” The woman bowed her head in respect.

  Jeff continued walking until he was behind the posters before he made his call. He returned to Emory’s side just as the auctioneer declared, “Sold!” on Lot Eleven.

  Emory waited a few seconds for an explanation. “Well?”

  Jeff looked at the sheriff, who was now on the phone. “Watch.”

  The sheriff moved the phone from his face to look at it, and he scanned those still in attendance. He said something more on the phone before pocketing it. The sheriff gripped the handle of his pistol without drawing it and made a beeline for his target. “Randy Graham?”

  Randy turned a puzzled face to the sheriff. “Yes.”

  “You’re under arrest for suspected burglary in Barter Ridge. The sheriff there has asked that you be remanded into his custody.”

  “This is ridiculous! I don’t even know where Barter Ridge is!”

  Emory whispered to Jeff, “How on Earth did you get Dad to agree to this?”

  “I just told him the truth, basically. That if we couldn’t stop this guy, a little old lady was going to be kicked out of her home and that we were out of options.”

  “Place your hands behind your back.”

  “But I’m not done here.”

  Darren came over to investigate the commotion. “What’s going on here?”

  “This man is under arrest for robbery, and I’m taking him in.”

  Darren stepped in front of Randy. “So you don’t have the money to purchase the lots you’ve bid on?”

  “I do! I swear it! I’m rich! This is a mistake!”

  Darren wasn’t convinced, but he fought to keep the sales. “Sheriff, you have to let him sign for the lots he’s purchased. Please.”

  The sheriff hesitated. “Fine. Mr. Graham, you can put your hands in front so you can use a pen.”

  Randy held his hands in front for the sheriff to handcuff him. “And let me bid on the remaining two properties.”

  “Don’t push it.” The sheriff led him to the table to sign, and the auction continued.

  “Lot Twelve,” the auctioneer called.

  Luke Hinter raised his hand to bid. One other person bid against him, but once the gavel dropped, Luke was victorious. He jumped with a celebratory fist. “Thank you guys so much for your help.”

  Jeff shook his hand. “We’re glad it worked out.”

  Luke shook Emory’s hand. “I have to take care of all the paperwork, and then I really need to catch up on some work. Would you mind checking on Aunt Mary Belle?”

  “Not at all. We’ll let you know how she’s doing.”

  “Thanks man.” Luke headed for the table. “I really appreciate all you’ve done.”

  The auctioneer held up the last property description. “The final lot!”

  Peter West appeared relieved that his competition had been taken out, and he threw his hand up as soon as the bidding on his former home had begun. However, he would not be unopposed. Darren left the table to join in.

  Back and forth the two went until Peter had bid five thousand more than he had been paid for the property. Darren hesitated before he lifted his hand once more. Peter dropped his head as the auctioneer asked for any other bids.

  “Sold!” the man on the stage shouted. “Ladies and gentlemen, that does it for today’s sale. Thank you all for participating.”

  Peter West tramped over to Darren Gleeson and punched him in the face.

  Chapter 38

  When the PIs stepped out of the hospital elevator, Jeff nodded to a directional sign. “What’s her room number again?”

  Emory checked his phone. “Five forty-three.”

  Jeff pointed to the right. “This way.”

  As they walked down the white hallway, Emory saw a familiar face loitering outside one of the rooms. “Isn’t that Fred Leakey?”

  “Who?”

  “The guy from the surveying company who gave us the information on—”

  “Oh yeah, yeah. That’s him.”

  Emory waved to him. “Mr. Leakey. Do you remember us?”

  Fred looked up from his phone and took a second to recall them. “You’re the guys who came into the office asking about Clayton.”

  Perhaps seeking some nominal compensation, Jeff added a clarification. “And we’re the ones who found him.”

  “Has he said anything about what happened to him?”

  “He’s been in a coma since he was brought in.”

  “Is he going to be okay?”

  “The doctor said he has a concussion, two broken ribs and a fractured ankle. He doesn’t think there’s any brain damage, so he could make a full recovery.”

  Jeff patted him on the shoulder. “That’s good to hear.”

  “Mr. Leakey, about the survey report Clayton was going to file, did you find it?”

  As his phone rang, Fred rushed his response, “We haven’t recovered his laptop. It wasn’t in his truck. Excuse me.” He answered the phone and walked a few feet away.

  Emory turned to Jeff. “Do you think someone pushed him into that hole so they could take the laptop?”

  “Maybe. But why?”

  “I really want to know what’s in that report.”

  Jeff nodded toward Fred Leakey. “I don’t think he’s going anywhere for a while. Let’s go see the old lady.”

  Emory nodded. “But don’t tell her about the auction. That’s Luke’s news to share.”

  The two headed toward Ms. Mary Belle’s room, and they found her looking well in spite of being laid up with an IV in her arm. Emory called to her. “Ms. Mary Belle.”

  She turned her attention from the TV to the young men and greeted them with a relieved smile. “Sweet sassafras, wasn’t ’spectin’ ta see y’all. Come ta sprin’ me?”

  “No, we just came to check on you.”

  “Ain’t no need for that. I’m fine. Just wanna go home. Did m’ nephew get back m’ prop’ty?”

  Jeff answered for Emory. “We don’t know. Luke just left us a message asking us to check on you until he could get here himself.”

  She pointed at his chest. “Where’s that charm I give you?”

  Jeff reached into the neck of his shirt and pulled out the rock that hung by a thin leather strap. “I have it right here.”

  Emory shot Jeff a curious look, to which he responded with a shrug.

  “It workin’ yet?”

  Jeff chuckled. “Too soon to tell.”

  “Give it time.”

  Jeff’s phone rang. “It’s Virginia.” He exited the room, leaving his partner alone with the witch.

  “Ms. Mary Belle, I need to tell you something.” Emory took a deep breath, unsure how to proceed. “We found something on your neighbor’s property, where your Specter used to live.”

  “What was it?”

  “In the ground holler, we found… remains.”

  “Remains of what?”

  “A body.” Emory waited for a response, but the words didn’t seem to register with her. “The medical examiner confirmed it was a teenage woman and estimated she died fifty to sixty years ago. Ms. Mary Belle, I think we found your Specter.”

  Sudden understanding swept across her face, releasing a squall of emotions from within the withered wom
an. She wailed as tears deluged her face like a summer flood. Emory sat on the edge of the bed, and for what seemed like several minutes, he held her hand as she mourned the loss of her life’s only love. “I knowed it. I knowed he kilt her.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Ms. Mary Belle pulled her sheet up to wipe her eyes. “Maybe she can rest now.” She patted Emory’s hand. “I need ta rest.”

  Is she saying she doesn’t want to live anymore? “What do you mean?”

  “I’m tired. I need ta sleep.”

  “Okay.” Emory got up from the bed. “If you need anything, just give me a call.”

  The old woman closed her eyes without another word.

  Out in the hallway, Jeff was glued to his phone. “That’s it!” He looked up when he heard Emory step out of Ms. Mary Belle’s room. “What was all that commotion in there?”

  “I told her about the body we found.”

  “Are you sure you should’ve done that?”

  “She had a right to know.” Emory touched the charm hanging from Jeff’s neck. “You didn’t tell me she gave you this.”

  Jeff frowned at him. “She didn’t give it to me. She charged me ten bucks.”

  “You paid ten bucks for a piece of gravel?”

  “I know. I’m a softie.”

  “What did Virginia want?”

  “She said she can’t get into the FAA’s database to search for drone registries, and they’re closed on Saturdays so she can’t call to make an inquiry.”

  “So we have to wait until Monday.”

  “Actually, she thinks she might be able to track purchases if I can find exactly the model I saw, which I just did.” He held up his phone so Emory could see the picture on the website.

  “Huh. It doesn’t even look like it could fly.”

  Jeff scrolled down the page to show him another picture. “And it comes with this cool carrying case.”

  Emory glanced at the image of the silver metallic case on wheels. “That looks like a suitcase.” He tilted his head. “I think I’ve seen something like this before.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Before I forget,” Jeff said as he pulled another cell phone from his pants pocket. “You left your phone in the office this morning.”

  “I did?” Taking possession, Emory told him, “We need to catch Fred Leakey before he leaves.” They headed back toward Clayton’s room and found Fred sitting in a chair by the bed. Although Clayton was in a coma, Emory whispered, “Mr. Leakey, I’m sorry to bother you again, but could we ask you one more question?”

  “Sure,” Fred answered in a normal voice. “By the way, you don’t have to whisper. We actually want him to wake up.”

  “Right. We were thinking that maybe Clayton had the laptop with him when he fell into the sinkhole. Has anyone looked down there?”

  Fred shook his head. “No, and it’s little late now. As of today’s auction, that property no longer belongs to the TVA, so we’d need the new owner’s permission. And, by the way, it’s not really a sinkhole. It’s an abandoned zinc mine from a vein that dried up about a hundred years ago.”

  “Zinc?”

  “You mean like in vitamins?” Jeff asked.

  “Technically. But more like the zinc used in galvanizing iron or steel and in manufacturing things like batteries, pennies—”

  Jeff interrupted him. “Ah, boring stuff.”

  Fred laughed. “I guess if you consider money boring. Zinc mines all over the world are drying up. They mined about a half million metric tons out of that old vein before it dried up. At the current rate, that would’ve fetched about $1.5 billion.”

  Jeff cupped one of his ears. “Did I hear that right? Billion?”

  Fred pointed to his charm. “You have some hanging from your neck there.”

  “This?” Jeff grabbed the rock to inspect it.

  Emory gasped. “Oh my god. There’s a second vein!”

  Chapter 39

  Monday, just before noon, Emory stood in Frank Belcher’s office, chatting with him about the auction, when Randy Graham walked in. He all but ignored Emory as he focused on Frank. “I’m here to pick up my deeds.”

  “Oh yes.” Frank glanced at the wall clock above Emory’s head. “It’s about that time. My boss is finishing them up and will be here in a minute. Please have a seat.”

  Randy complied and eyed Emory. “I know you had something to do with that fiasco on Saturday.”

  Emory’s eyes widened. “I assure you I didn’t. What happened after you left?”

  “The damn sheriff had just pulled onto the interstate when the sheriff who made the complaint called him to say it was a mistake. Damn idiots!”

  “You only missed out on two properties. Don’t you have enough land for your retreat?”

  “It just won’t be as big as I wanted.”

  Luke Hinter knocked on the office door and entered. “Today’s the big day.”

  Frank acknowledged him with a slight tip of his head. “Good to see you again, Mr. Hinter.

  Emory pointed to them both. “You two have met before?”

  “When I found I had to take care of my aunt, I came to see him to ask if there was any way to get her house back.”

  Frank chimed in, “Actually, he had come to see Corey, but he hadn’t started work yet that morning. I told him not to get mad at me. I would’ve chosen a different site. Mr. Hinter, I’m glad it worked out for you and your aunt.”

  All eyes turned to the door as Darren entered holding twelve manila envelopes, a clipboard and several sets of house keys. “Hi gentlemen. I have your deeds, notarized and recorded, and I have keys for the properties with homes.” He split the deeds and keys between the two buyers. “Eleven deeds and four keys for Mr. Randy Graham, and one of each for Ms. Mary Belle Hinter and Mr. Luke Hinter.”

  “The deed’s in both your names?” asked Emory.

  Frank answered his ringing office phone, while Luke answered Emory. “My lawyer suggested it. I’m her only living relative, so it’ll keep me from having to pay inheritance tax when she dies.”

  “Smart thinking. I just need you guys to sign another document, and you can be on your way.” Darren pulled some papers from his clipboard and set them on the desk for Randy and Luke to sign.

  Frank pulled the phone from his ear. “Emory, it’s your partner. He says your phone is going straight to voicemail.”

  Emory pulled out his cell phone and checked it. “Damn, I forgot to charge it last night. It’s dead.” With everyone crowded around the desk, he asked Frank to put the call on speakerphone.

  From outside somewhere, Jeff’s voice came through the speaker. “Emory, I just talked to Becky, and she made me realize there’s something the police and TBI overlooked.”

  Emory spoke loud enough for everyone in the room to hear him. “What could that be?”

  “Corey’s cell phone. It was never found. Becky said that Corey was in the habit of recording himself as he meditated and then he would play it back before going to sleep. She found an audio file from that day on their shared cloud, but it didn’t fully upload, so she couldn’t play it.”

  “You think he recorded his murder?”

  “Only one way to find out. Find the phone.”

  Emory stepped closer to the phone so he didn’t have to raise his voice. “It’s got to be on the roof of this building.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “Can you go look?”

  “Not right now.”

  “But you’re in the building.”

  “I’m already late for my meeting with the TBI.”

  Jeff whispered over the phone, although everyone in the room with Emory could hear. “Whatever you do, don’t tell the TBI about the phone. I want us to find it. I’m heading over there now to look for it.”

  “Talk to you later.” Emory nodded to Frank. “You can hang up. Thank you for your time.” With that, he left the office and headed to the roof t
o await Corey Melton’s killer.

  Chapter 40

  Killing time, Emory counted the seconds it took each of his visible breaths to dissipate as he waited on the roof of the Godfrey Tower for the murderer to arrive. Anticipation stilled the air, although he could almost hear the blood pulsing from his anxious heart. A sudden gust of wind preceded clanging. He looked up to see the flagpole had been repaired, and the Stars and Stripes now waved at him from forty feet above. Behind it along one edge of the roof rose the billboard, still emblazoned with the advertisement for Mourning Dove Investigations.

  He heard the door to the roof creak open. He watched as the killer soft-shoed it to the flagpole – the place where Corey had been thrown from the roof.

  Emory stepped from behind the ventilation system and held up a cell phone. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

  The killer jumped when he heard his voice. “Emory. I was just coming up for some fresh air.”

  “We know it was you, Luke.”

  Luke Hinter squinted and smiled at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “When the sheriff called you to pick up your aunt, you said it was the first time you stepped foot in Brume Wood since you were a toddler. You must’ve seen her collection of charms.” Emory was now wearing the charm necklace Ms. Mary Belle had given Jeff, and he held up the rock for Luke to see.

  “What about it? It’s gravel.”

  Emory let the rock drop back to his chest. “But you know it’s not just gravel. You told me yourself you started out as a geology major before your parents made you switch to finance.”

  Luke laughed. “I took a few classes like five years ago. I don’t remember any of that.”

  “I might’ve believed you didn’t recognize them as zinc ore if I hadn’t seen you toting the shiny new silver case behind you that day. You said it was your aunt’s, but I’ve seen her belongings. She doesn’t own anything from the past three decades.”

  “I bought her that suitcase to put her stuff in.”

  “But it wasn’t a suitcase. It was a carrying case for your drone.”

  Luke pulled a knife from his pocket. “I’m going to need that phone.”

  “A switchblade?” Jeff appeared above them, standing on the ventilation system and aiming his blue-barreled PD10 handgun at the knife-wielder. “Seriously? Who carries around a switchblade?”