by H K Christie
Several hours later, I stood under the tent while the rain pattered, sounding like someone was shooting pellets at us. The forensic team had been working diligently to search for clues. It was a slow, agonizing process. We didn’t have a lot to go on, but I hadn’t seen Martina be wrong yet. If she thought it was worth digging, it was worth digging.
Brown, the forensic lead, stood up and waved his hand. I hurried over to the adjacent tent with my boots getting sucked into the mud, slowing me down. As I approached, Brown pointed down at the ground. My heart nearly beat out of my chest.
It was a bone.
I glanced at Brown. “Is it human?”
“We won’t know for sure until we excavate the entire area or test it, but it looks like a phalange to me.”
“Nice work.”
Brown’s team continued to work. As I stood there discussing the case with Brown, I asked, “How long will it take to dig up?”
“Assuming the complete skeleton is here, it could be awhile. We don’t want to destroy any evidence or damage the bones. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it will be intact. If so, it may be just a few more hours. If you have to go, it’s okay, we’ve got this.”
“No, I’m not going anywhere. I was just curious.”
I stood back in silence as Brown went back to work, kneeling down in the mud, carefully scratching back the dirt and brushing it off the bone. Within minutes he exposed an entire skeleton of a human hand. Holy crap, Martina had been right.
We’d have to check dental records, but considering she found Donna’s earring here, what was the likelihood it wasn’t Donna?
I rushed over to the other tent and pulled out my phone. It was late, but I don’t think Martina would mind. “Hey, Martina. Sorry, it’s late.”
“No, it’s fine, I’m up. What did you find?”
Adrenaline pumping, I said, “I think we found her.”
“What exactly did you find?”
I explained, and then there was silence on the other end.
“Are you all right, Martina?”
“Yes, I will be. I knew this was the most likely outcome, but I guess part of me still hoped that she would come back, you know? Any idea how long before you can confirm identity?”
“I’m guessing she had dental records?”
“She had braces when we were teenagers, so yes.”
“Well then, it may only be a day or two.”
“Thank you for calling, Hirsch. Have you notified the family?”
“I plan to call over there now, and then head over to their house since I’m already here.” I paused. “Or would you prefer I wait until tomorrow when you and I can go there together, before Theodore Gilmore’s memorial?”
“I don’t want to be the reason they have to wait another minute.” She said with a shaking voice.
“All right, Martina. See tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Hirsch.”
I shook my head. I was excited to let Martina know what we found, but in my rush, I’d lost sight of the fact that it was Martina’s best friend and that she was a loved one. I probably should have handled that more carefully.
I glanced up at Brown. “I’m going to notify the family that we found something. They only live a couple blocks down the road. I’ll be back.”
I knocked on the door. Mr. Bernard stood with a long face. His wife Sandy stood beside him, holding his hand. It was as if they were bracing for the worst. “Mr. and Mrs. Bernard.”
Mrs. Bernard waved me in. “Please, come in, Detective Hirsch. It’s a mess out there.”
They didn’t let go of one another. It was a terrible thing that they were waiting for, but I could tell in their eyes they knew what was coming. “Earlier tonight, Martina found a note in your daughter’s bedroom with the location, Beth’s Pond. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the place?”
“Beth’s Pond? Is that the place they would go when they were little?” Sandy asked her husband.
“Yes, I think they named it after that little girl that moved away, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. I remember now.”
“We found something.” I lifted the evidence bag that now contained the earring Martina had found and handed it to Mrs. Bernard.
Mr. Bernard lowered his head, and Mrs. Bernard had tears streaming down her face. “It was Donna’s. We gave them to her for her graduation,” she said through tears.
“It’s not all we found.” Their eyes were both on me. “We’ll need to confirm identity, but we’ve unearthed a skeleton. They should be able to finish the excavation in a few hours. We would like to compare the remains against dental records for Donna. If you could give me the name of her dentist, we can speed up the process.” Neither of the Bernards moved a muscle. It was as if they were frozen in time.
Mr. Bernard said, “So it may not be her?”
“We won’t know for sure until we compare the records.” Without a word, Mrs. Bernard rushed to the kitchen, opened a drawer and pulled something out before hurrying back over to me. She handed me a refrigerator magnet with the dentist’s information on it. “That was her dentist. He’s retired, but the office is still there. They should have her records, right?”
“Most likely, yes.”
I continued to answer their questions, and it was clear their fears seemed to all be coming true. It brought me back to the day that the police officer notified my mom, dad, and me that someone had killed my brother. It was a feeling that I wouldn’t wish upon anyone, not even my worst enemy.
I waved and headed back to Beth’s Pond. I hurried toward Brown. “Anything new?”
He turned up to look at me. “It’s female, you can tell by the pelvis. Late teens, early 20s.”
If it wasn’t Donna, I’d have another case to solve.
31
Martina
I hugged Zoey and said goodbye to Claire, before walking out to the driveway. What a week. I was practically on pins and needles, waiting for the call that confirmed that the remains at Beth’s Pond belonged to Donna. I had few doubts, but was now aware that being ‘nearly sure’ and being told ‘it is’ was a different thing all together. After finding her earring, I realized I had kept a sliver of hope we’d find her alive. The sliver now looked like a speck of dust.
At least I hadn’t received any additional threats on my life or Zoey’s in a few days. Hopefully, the threats were only intended to scare me, and then that would be the end of it. But my instincts had me on high alert.
It would be interesting to see who showed up at Theodore Gilmore’s memorial today. Would the so-called family friend, Alonso, return? Or was the killer somebody entirely different? An old acquaintance? A former coworker? A secret lover’s spouse out for revenge? My money was on the Henley connection, but even so, it still didn’t make sense. What was the motive? Theodore didn’t tell us anything salacious, or anything that seemed like it was worth killing over. The only true thing he could disclose to us about Charlotte’s past was the name of her hometown in Pennsylvania. Surely that wasn’t enough to kill someone over, was it?
I opened the car door, slipped off my blazer and laid it on the back seat, before sliding into the driver’s seat. I didn’t like to expose the weapon on my hip, or the one on my ankle, but it was going to be a long drive, and I didn’t want to wrinkle my coat.
I buckled up and backed out of my driveway. Turning out of my neighborhood and toward the highway to start the journey to Stone Island for Theodore Gilmore’s memorial, I soon found my thoughts drifting back to Donna. I could kick myself for not having looked for her earlier. I’d been so hell-bent on turning my back on Stone Island and the life I had before I joined the Army, that although Donna had stayed in my heart all of these years, I couldn’t bring myself to return and find out what really happened to her. I guess we all have a bit of coward in us.
I still hadn’t returned my mother’s phone call. What would I say? “Hi Mom, want to be AA buddies?” I shook my head. Ridiculous. Not only did I have Donna and m
y mother on my mind, but I also had to consider my job with Stavros. I’d been their top investigator, and now I was being treated like a child. I didn’t like it. I needed to confront Stavros. He couldn’t use the excuse that a situation was too dangerous for me to be involved in. I could take care of myself. I’d proven that time and time again. Did he treat the male investigators with kid gloves? It was sexist, and it was wrong.
I made a right at the light and continued on toward the highway. I glanced at my dashboard to see how much fuel I had in the tank. I supposed I could stop and get gas. It was still quite a drive out to Stone Island, and the last thing I needed was to run out of gas.
I checked my mirrors and continued down the road. I was about to make a left, re-checking my mirrors, when I spotted the same silver Ford Escort three cars back. I made the left-hand turn and then another left. My heart raced as the silver Ford remained on my tail. If it was the person who was threatening Zoey and me, I knew one way to stop them.
My stalker was about to learn that he couldn’t bully me or make me step aside. I wasn’t easy to get rid of. I took another left - sure enough; it followed me. I pulled into a gas station, stopping at the first pump. The car didn’t follow me into the gas station; instead, it whizzed past. In a blur, I saw that the driver wore a black baseball cap, sunglasses, and black gloves that gripped the steering wheel. It sped down the busy road until it was out of my sight.
The sun was out, but there was still a chill in the air. The outfit wasn’t completely out of character for the season, but something told me this person was following me for a reason, not to just keep eyes on me. I grabbed my blazer from the back seat and stepped out of my vehicle, putting it on quickly in order to conceal my weapon. People get real nervous when they see someone with a gun strapped to their hip.
I grabbed my wallet and pulled out my credit card. I was here, I might as well fill up. I shut my door and walked over to the pump. After I slipped my credit card into the card reader, I heard the light patter of footsteps rushing toward me.
Before I could turn around, a powerful object struck me, knocking me to the ground. Heavy boots connected with my sore ribs, and I yelled out in pain. Before he could get in another kick, I grabbed his foot and twisted, knocking him on his butt. Adrenaline flowing, I rolled over and used the gas pump as a crutch to get to my feet. I stood and our eyes locked.
A moment later, I kneed him in the groin before delivering a roundhouse to his chest. He fell to the ground, clutching his privates. I kicked him in the ribs, before retrieving my gun from the holster. On the ground, I launched on top of him, straddling him. I aimed the gun at his face and glared at him. “Don’t move.”
The man who had once introduced himself as Alonso Davidson, stopped squirming. It was a common response when one had a gun in their face. “Who are you?”
He smirked. “I want a lawyer.”
“I’m not a cop. You don’t get a phone call. And a lawyer will not help you right now. I asked who are you?” Raising my voice, as my heartbeat thumped in my ears.
He arched his head forward. “Lady, I think there has been a misunderstanding.”
I steadied my grip on my weapon. “I will shoot you.”
“Will you, little lady?”
I really didn’t like this guy. But I also didn’t want to splatter his brains out here in public view or anywhere, really. I preferred for the bad guys to rot in prison - a far worse sentence than an instantaneous death.
Despite what you saw in movies, it was a little difficult to pull out your cell phone and call the police, while you’re straddling a bad guy with a gun pointed at his face. I needed both hands for that, and I needed my concentration. Best I could do was hope that someone would call the police, and fast. After all, there was a lady holding a gun on a man at a gas station in broad daylight.
“I’ll ask you again. Who are you and why are you following me? Why are you trying to kill me?”
“My name is Alonso Davidson, we’ve met before. There’s no need for this. We can sort this out. Why don’t you put the gun away, and we can talk about it.”
He was bold. I’d give him that. Attacking me on a busy street in the middle of the day and maintaining his innocence? “Do you really think that whoever sent you is going to help you after they throw you in jail?” I stared into his deep-brown eyes. I thought I saw a bit of hesitation. I’d struck a nerve. “I assume it’s the Henleys who have sent you. Do you really think they’re going to muddy their hands with you?”
“Lady, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You will go to jail.”
“I’m superb at keeping quiet.”
“That should serve you well while you’re spending the rest of your life in prison.”
“We’ll see about that.” He started to squirm, and I pressed the gun to his forehead. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’d be a good little boy and wait for the police to get here so that you don’t find yourself with your brains all over the concrete.”
I heard sirens, and a trickle of relief ran down me. My arms were cramping, and I did not like sitting out in public with a gun pressed to a man’s face. I wanted him to talk and tell me why he’d chased me across the country to take me out. “Why didn’t you try to take me out while I was in Pennsylvania?”
Alonso continued practicing his skill of being quiet. I, on the other hand, had no plans to do that. “I know you’re working for the Henleys and the cops will know it, too. You won’t get away with any of it.” I stayed steadfast, with the muzzle of the gun pressed to his forehead, despite the sound of uniformed officers running toward me. “Put the weapon down,” they yelled.
I tossed the weapon across the pavement and slowly stood up with my hands in the air. I knew better than to get shot over this guy. They rushed toward me and handcuffed my hands behind my back. I looked at the officer in the eyes. “He attacked me. They should have it on surveillance video.”
“That may be so, ma’am, but I need you to come with me.” They hauled me off to the back of the police car and sat me down. “Ma’am, what’s your name?”
“Martina Monroe.”
“Do you have any other weapons on you?”
“Ankle.”
Two officers stood with fists on hips, as the one in charge lifted my pant leg and removed the weapon from my ankle. He stood back up. “You’re awfully armed for a civilian?”
“Sir, I’m a private investigator. My life and my family have been threatened. I have a license to carry. You can look it up. That man who attacked me is a potential suspect in a previous attack. He had been following me, so I pulled over. He attacked me from behind and I fought back.”
“How did he attack you?”
“He hit me with something on the back of my head.” Which, now seated and out of imminent danger, my skull was throbbing and nausea was starting to hit me. I leaned back in the cruiser and took some calming breaths. Darn it, that jerk probably gave me a concussion.
Before responding, the officer in charge called out to another officer. “Call an ambulance. He hit her in the head, and the other guy may need attention as well.”
He refocused his eyes on me. “Any idea why he attacked you?”
I nodded slowly. “Yes, I’m working a case, and I’m pretty sure he’s the same guy who attacked me before.” I explained the connection to Theodore Gilmore’s murder investigation, the Henleys, and my attack in Pennsylvania. He nodded at the officers and said, “Let me go see if I can get a hold of Detective Hirsch and verify your information. Sit tight.” I watched as he hurried off. Darn it, because of this stupid guy, I was going to miss the memorial.
A few minutes later, the officer in charge returned. Without a word, he placed his phone up to my ear. “Martina, are you all right?”
Relief flooded me. “Hirsch, it’s good to hear your voice.” And it was. It was surprising how much so.
“McKenna says you had a blow to the head and you may be concussed. I’ll
meet you at the hospital.”
“You’ll miss the memorial. I think you should go to the memorial and question the attendees. There is a possibility, Alonso, or whatever his name is, may not be the killer.” Hirsch was quiet. “You can meet me after. Kennedy will need you,” I insisted.
“Okay, I’ll come by the hospital after I finish questioning the guests and am sure Kennedy is safe.”
“See you then.”
McKenna, I presumed, took his phone back. “How are you feeling?”
With heavy eyelids I said, “I’ve been better.”
“Try to stay awake. The ambulance just got here, we’ll get you taken care of. Turn around so I can remove the cuffs.”
I nodded and then let sleep take me.
32
Detective Hirsch
I stepped into Martina’s hospital room and paused. She was in the far bed, next to the window, and had two visitors. A young female with big blue eyes and a sparkly shirt stood next to a younger woman with blonde hair and a worried look on her face. My guess, being a detective and all, was that it was Martina’s daughter, Zoey, and her nanny, Claire. I inhaled the disinfectant-filled air in the hospital room and continued forward slowly to make myself known. I lifted a hand to say hello. “I hope I’m not intruding. I can come back.”
All eyes were fixed on me. The younger women clearly didn’t know who I was.
The blonde woman said, “No, it’s fine, we were just about to go down to the cafeteria to get a snack.”
“But before you go, this is Detective Hirsch. Detective Hirsch, this is my daughter, Zoey, and her nanny, Claire.”
Zoey hurried over to me, extending a tiny hand to shake. I shook her hand and said, “It’s very nice to meet you, Zoey.”
“Nice to meet you too, Detective Hirsch. Are you a detective like in the movies?”
“Yes, kind of.”