Death Over the Dam (A Hunter Jones Mystery Book 2)

by Charlotte Moore

  “And when you took these items, Mr. Thigpen was already dead.”

  “The man in the car was dead,” Damon said flatly “I didn’t know what his name was.”

  “Did you make any effort to determine if he was dead or did you just assume it?” Sam asked.

  “I looked at him and he was dead,” Damon said.

  “How did you happen to be in that location at that time?” Sam asked.

  “I was at my Grandma’s house,” Damon said, “She cooked me some fried chicken and I was eating supper with her.”

  “Why did you go down the road to Shipley’s Hangar?” Sam asked.

  “Because we heard a gunshot, and I wanted to see what had happened. I didn’t kill the man. I didn’t even know who he was.” His voice was rising.

  “ Nobody has said you did,” his attorney said to him gently.

  “Well I don’t want them charging me with killing him when I didn’t.” Damon shot back.

  “So you went down the road to see what had happened,” Sam said, “and you found the car and saw the man was dead and you took the computer and the Nikon camera.”

  “Yeah,” Damon said, “That’s what I already said.”

  “You didn’t take his wallet or the cell phone?”

  “You’ve asked him that already,” Molly Bloomfield said.

  “What did you tell your grandmother about what you had seen?” Sam asked.

  “I have nothing to say about that,” Damon said. “You know my grandma died yesterday.”

  “I am aware of that,” Sam said. “Your great aunt, Mrs. Frances Hartfield says that your grandmother told her and Mr. Hartfield that you told her there was a dead man out there and not to tell anybody that you had been at her house.”

  “She’s lying,” Damon said.

  “Do you own a gun?” Sam asked.

  “This interview is over,” Molly Bloomfield said. “Are you going to charge my client with something?”

  “Yes, we’re charging him with theft by taking, with failing to report a death to the authorities, and with possession of five ounces of marijuana and illegal possession of a prescription drug,” Sam said.

  “Can I go home now? “ Damon asked.

  “No,” Sam said, “But your attorney can discuss that matter with Judge Patterson tomorrow morning.

  CHAPTER 20

  HUNTER HAD FINALLY DECIDED ON A column. She was going to write about the need for a new animal shelter in Merchantsville. It wasn’t an earth-shaking subject for her first column ever, but it was something she had strong feelings about, and the City Council had it on their agenda for their next meeting.

  She printed out some stories she had already written about the shelter and the Animal Defense League, started over three times, got on a roll, and then realized she had written over 700 words .She began going over it sentence by sentence making cuts, and suddenly decided on a brand new way to approach it and started over.

  She was halfway through the final version, her head full of visions of abandoned puppies and scrawny kittens, when she was aware that somebody had come into the newspaper office.

  She looked up and blinked.

  The woman looked familiar. She looked like Miss America ten years later.

  “Are you Hunter Jones,” Rhonda Ransom asked, with a sweet smile. “I’m Rhonda. I just wanted to come by and meet you and wish you the best.”

  “Thank you,” Hunter said.

  “Could I sit down and talk with you just a few minutes?”

  “Sure. But, just, well, I’ve just got this column to finish.”

  “You must be so smart to write for the paper,” Rhonda said sweetly. “I’ve seen your name under all the photographs, too.”

  Hunter started recovering her poise, and reached out with her right hand to shuffle some papers.

  Rhonda glanced at the ring, blinked and glanced away quickly.

  “Well anyway, I can see you’re busy,” she said, “but I just wanted you to know that I’ve very glad Sam is happy and I can tell that Bethie likes you a lot, and I hope we can all get along for Bethie’s sake.”

  “I certainly hope so too,” Hunter said, still wary.

  “And I brought you these,” Rhonda said, opening up her purse.

  “She carefully placed two of her CDs on Hunter’s desk, and then placed two tickets on top of the CDs.”

  “These are free tickets for the benefit concert on Saturday night,” she said. “Bethie’s got one too but she’ll be coming with my mother, and these are for you and Sam.”

  “Thank you,” Hunter said, managing what she hoped was a smile.

  “And I would appreciate it so much if you would bring your camera,” Rhonda said, with a wink. “Your pictures in the paper are so good. You must have a real good camera.”

  “I’ll have to talk to Sam about what his plans are,” Hunter said primly, and then, seeing that the former Miss Magnolia County High School was ready to make her exit, got up to walk with her to the door

  Thirty seconds after she got back to her desk, Tyler came out of his office.

  ‘What did she want?” he asked.

  “She wants me to cover the concert,” Hunter said grimly. “She brought free tickets for me and Sam.”

  Tyler laughed.

  “Novena’s already said she and Bobby are going and she’ll cover it,” he said. “Give her the tickets. I hope that woman didn’t keep you from finishing that column for me.”

  “Almost done,” Hunter said.

  Sam came to her house for supper, and with Bethie visiting the Ransoms again, they were both glad to have a chance to catch up on the grownup part of their lives.

  “I cannot believe Rhonda did that,” Sam said, after hearing Hunter’s main story of the day, “I don’t want to go hear her sing and she had no business asking you to take pictures.”

  “But,” Hunter said, smiling sweetly, “She did give me her best wishes and she does want us to all get along for Bethie’s sake, and we will, won’t we?”

  “Well, I’m going to get along with you and with Bethie,” Sam said, “and she’s irrelevant, but we are not going to that concert.”

  “Fine with me,” Hunter said, serving him some more of the meatloaf, she had made in a hurry, and which wasn’t half bad. “Now how was your day? I’ll bet you can’t top my story.””

  “Bet I can. We have a Person of Interest in the Thigpen murder investigation,” he said.

  “Who?”

  “I’ll give you a statement in the morning that says that we have a Person of Interest,” Sam said. “Off the record, it could be that this person just robbed a dead man.”

  “So you found some of the stolen things? Did you find the painting?”

  “I’ll e-mail you a statement in the morning at 9 a.m.,” Sam said, “at the same time I e-mail one to Will Roy for the radio.”

  “Then he’s going to get it out ahead of me,” Hunter said.

  “So it goes,” Sam said. “Sorry. If I give it to you before the paper is printed, he’s going to have it on the radio first anyway. I can’t play favorites.”

  “He’s going to say you are whether you do or not,” Hunter said, but she knew that the issue was settled.

  Sam noticed the Deirdre Donagan Bennett paintings still leaning against the wall.

  “I thought you were going to take those out to Grady to fix,” he said.

  “That’s tomorrow afternoon,” Hunter said, and then she remembered her talk with Nikki “Oh! I forgot something so important that I was going to tell you.”

  “More important than free tickets to Rhonda’s concert?” Sam asked.

  “Oh, yes.” Hunter said. “It is the weirdest thing. I called Nikki today to get her to send me a picture of me because Tyler has me starting a column.”

  “Nice,” Sam said. “About time.”

  “And she told me that this friend of hers who works for the Piedmont Camera Club said that Michael Donagan is not dead. That he’s still a dues paying member
of the club and still gets their newsletter. She said she heard he had emphysema, and that might be why people hadn’t seen him lately, but he wasn’t dead and he has a P.O. Box in Macon.

  “That definitely is weird,” Sam said. “Do you suppose Grady and his wife just wanted to keep the newsletter coming?”

  “Well, the thing is,” Hunter said. “I was just remembering that Ned Thigpen didn’t know he was dead either, and he’s in that club. Wait a minute. I want to look up something on my computer.”

  In a matter of minutes, she had the Piedmont Camera Club website up and it had a full memorial page to Ned Thigpen.

  She typed “Michael Donagan” on the search line, and found several of his photographs along with a photo of him and a teenaged Deirdre. He had gray hair and looked frail, which surprised Hunter, who had been imagining a charming Irishman with Deirdre’s good looks. There was no mention of his death.

  “I don’t get it,” Sam said frowning.

  He got out his notebook and made a note to himself.

  “I’ve got ice cream,” Hunter said. “Do you want to talk about when to get married?”

  “I was thinking maybe next week, one day when we both have time,” he said. “One of those courthouse weddings.”

  “How about next month at the beach?” Hunter asked.

  And the negotiations began.

  Meantime, Molly Bloomfield was eating a tomato sandwich and wondering about Damon Dixon. Could he have the rest of those things from Ned Thigpen’s car hidden away somewhere? She felt sure he had taken the cell phone and wallet and then decided to throw them in the creek, but his reaction had been so different to the rest of the items.

  The story, as he told it, made more sense to her than the idea that he would lurk in the woods waiting for somebody to drive down that road.

  She wondered idly if she could get him to behave less like a sociopath if it came to a jury trial.

  CHAPTER 21

  SAM’S FIRST ORDER OF BUSINESS ON Wednesday morning was talking to Jeremy Hayes, the new assistant D.A. who had come over early to be prepared for Damon Dixon’s arraignment at 11 a.m.

  “I think a good case can be made that he’s a flight risk,” Sam said. “He doesn’t really have a home, and I doubt the girlfriend he’s been living with for the last month is going to want him back after having her place searched. He doesn’t have a job either. I think he’s been getting most of his pocket money from his grandmother who just died, and most of what’s in his wallet probably came from Ned Thigpen’s wallet. Really, there’s nothing to keep him here, and besides that I’m pretty sure he’s got some stolen goods out there somewhere, maybe in Macon where he bought the drugs. And we still consider him a suspect in the Thigpen murder.”

  “Will his family help him?”

  “I doubt they’ll even show up. I think they’re more concerned about his grandmother’s funeral,” Sam said, “and the father told me it would suit him if Damon stayed in jail because he’s upset the whole family.”

  .”I’ve read the interview Deputy Williston did with the aunt,” the young lawyer said. “I’ll ask the judge to hold him without bond.”

  He got up and stretched.

  “Is there any coffee here?” he asked. “I didn’t get breakfast.”

  “There’s a café across the street,” Sam said. “They have good coffee and good food, and you’ve got time.”

  Just outside Sam’s office, Jeremy Hayes almost collided with Taneesha Martin, who looked stunned and then smiled with pure delight.

  “Jeremy, what are you doing here?” she asked.

  “It can’t be you,” he responded. “Where’s your tennis racket.”

  He turned to Sam, “I can’t tell you how many times this woman beat me at tennis when we were at the University.”

  “So I don’t need to introduce you,” Sam said. “Sgt. Martin, Mr. Hayes is here from Mr. Beal’s office for Damon Dixon’s arraignment. Why don’t you show where to get the best ham biscuits in Georgia?”

  They left together, laughing and talking.

  Sam went back into his office and called T.J. Jackson.

  “I need some detective work done,” he said… “May not amount to a thing but it’s a loose end, for sure.”

  “I’ve got all morning, and two interns here, too,” T.J. said, “What do you need?”

  Sam explained.

  Hunter missed seeing Sam for breakfast, but joined Taneesha and the attorney from the DA’s office briefly. They were apparently long lost friends with shared memories, and seeing how pleased they were to be catching up, she made a sudden decision to do them both a favor and get take out instead of sharing their table.

  Back at the paper, she had a relaxed morning ahead, with nothing to write, until Sam sent over a statement about his Person of Interest in the Thigpen case. That meant she could help with the remaining page layout and proofreading, and make thing easier for the others, too.

  Sam called to say he was having Shellie e-mail a short press notice about the arrest of Damon Dixon on charges of theft of items from Ned Thigpen’s car.

  “Wow!” Hunter said. “Is this the Person of Interest? Just theft, not murder?”

  “Let’s just go with the statement,unless you get something else on your own,” Sam said.” We are not charging him at this time with the murder of Ned Thigpen at this point, but if you read the release, you’ll see that you and Will Roy both can probably get better story if you’re in the courtroom at 11 a.m.

  Hunter went and told Tyler, who said, “Yes, go to the arraignment. We’ll move the Kiwanis Club story to page two. The family’s local. He’s been in trouble before.”

  CHAPTER 22

  AT 10:35, T.J. CALLED SAM AND said, “Michael Donagan’s alive as far as we can find out, or at least he’s alive on paper. He’s got a P.O. Box in Macon, and an account with Georgia Citizens Bank, a good credit rating and Social Security is sending him checks every month straight to the bank. I’ll e-mail what we’ve got.”

  Sam thanked T.J. and asked Shellie to find Skeet Borders.

  “I’ve got a job for him” he said.

  “You don’t look happy,” Shellie said.

  “I’m not. I think I know who’s in that casket, but that’s not the worst of it.”

  Sam was in a hurry when Skeet arrived, and kept it simple.

  “I want you to go find Grady Bennett and bring him in for questioning,” he said.

  “Do I need to know what for?” Skeet asked.

  “No, just tell him you don’t know but the sheriff wants to talk with him. You can sit in when I talk to him.”

  Skeet left to make the 12 mile drive to Grady Bennett’s home.

  Hunter got her story about Damon Dixon in just under the deadline—although that was a matter of professionalism mostly. She knew Tyler would let the press crew wait for ten minutes, but she liked the challenge.

  Damon Dixon, who looked bored when he was brought in and angry when he was taken out, was denied bond on the strength of the new young Assistant D.A. Jeremy Hayes’ very strong arguments that Dixon has no family support, no job and no permanent address in Magnolia County.

  It had all gone quickly, and to her delight, Will Roy Johnson was not there, but as Hunter would certainly point out to him later, he got the same information she got from Sam, and he could have driven the half mile from the radio station to the courthouse.

  Sam who had smiled at her across the courtroom was unavailable for lunch. But Taneesha and Jeremy Hayes were back at R&J’s together, and Taneesha, seeing Hunter come in alone, got up to come and talk with her.

  “He and I were almost serious in college,” she said, “and then I fell for this other guy. I’m wondering what came over me now. I can’t believe he’s still single. You want to come join us?”

  “No,” Hunter said, smiling, “ I want you to concentrate on that man. I saw him in court and he is really a good lawyer. I have to go out to the Bennett’s house anyway. I’m taking those paintin
gs out there to be fixed.”

  Taneesha shook her head and laughed.

  “You and your crazy art.”

  And then she left and headed back to her table.

  Hunter went back to the Messenger to watch the papers rolling off the press, found her written instructions to the Bennett’s house, and left for the day.

  Skeet was surprised at Grady’s relaxed reaction, when he told him that the sheriff wanted him to come in and talk.

  “I was going to call you , Skeet,” he said. “I know what he wants to talk about and I’ll be glad to go get it over with. I just need to call this lady from the church and see if she’ll stay with Dee Dee. She said she would if I need for her to. She’s Pastor Jimmy Rayburn’s wife, and they know all about this.”

  “No problem,” Skeet said, bewildered.

  “Pastor Jimmy” Grady said on the phone, “You know what we talked about yesterday? Well I’ve got to go in and talk to the Sheriff now. My friend Skeet is here to drive me there, and I really need Miss Arnette to come and stay with Dee Dee just in case it takes a while.”

  They got into the car, as soon as the pastor’s wife arrived and gave Grady a hug. Skeet headed back, calling in to let Shellie know that Grady was with him and they’d be there in 20 minutes or so. He tried to make it sound off hand.

  He didn’t ask any questions either, but Grady started telling him the whole story.

  “You might want to get a lawyer,” Skeet said, after a minute of two “and not tell me all this.”

  He saw a familiar car about a mile beyond the little white church.

  “Hey, there’s Hunter Jones,” he said, changing the subject.

  “Oh, I forgot,” Grady said. “She was going to bring two of Dee Dee’s painting out for me to fix them. They got floodwater on them. I guess she can just leave them, though.”

  He got back to Skeet’s suggestion.

  “No, I don’t think I need a lawyer. Pastor Jimmy called his brother who is a lawyer and asked him about it, and he said it wasn’t some kind of big crime. Mama was the one who told me it was. She was gone to Florida with her sister when we did it. . She just wasn’t used to that kinda thing, I guess.”