Desert Son Trilogy: Desert Son, Wayward Soul, Spiritual Intervention (Books 1-3)

Home > Other > Desert Son Trilogy: Desert Son, Wayward Soul, Spiritual Intervention (Books 1-3) > Page 36
Desert Son Trilogy: Desert Son, Wayward Soul, Spiritual Intervention (Books 1-3) Page 36

by Glenn Maynard


  “Brenda!” Carter yelled from the living room. When Brenda came into the room, she rolled her eyes when the officer was looking the other way, and then the three of them sat down on the couches to chat.

  “You seem to be involved in some things,” said Officer Barney, looking back and forth from Carter to Brenda.

  “Who… me… or her?” Carter asked, pointing back and forth.

  Officer Barney cleared his throat. “Carter, do you remember me from that car accident involving a woman named Angie?”

  “Yes, of course I do. How could I forget? Is this about that? Is there anything new about her condition?” Carter feared that this could be word that Angie had succumbed to her injuries. Perhaps Angie was not going to make it. Perhaps Angie died. He tightened up in anticipation of what Officer Barney was about to say.

  Carter knew that it was never good news when an officer pays a visit to your door. He knew what he was probably about to hear and cringed from the very thought of it. This brought his mind a step further. Since he and Brenda were there at the time of the accident, perhaps a charge was now going to be brought up against them. He looked over at Brenda, who remained silent, but Carter knew that the same thoughts were running through her brain.

  “No, no, no. It’s not to do with Angie. Her condition remains.” Officer Barney cleared his throat again and shifted his ass to form a new wedge in the couch, one that would make his butt smile. “I don’t know if trouble follows you two or if you seek it out yourselves?”

  “What are you getting at… officer,” Brenda snapped. “Are you serious? You’re actually accusing us of going out into this world and creating havoc on purpose? I’m insulted by the insinuations!”

  Carter was sitting next to Brenda on the green couch, which was directly in front of the matching loveseat filled in by Officer Barney. He put his arm around her and whispered in her ear, “You need to calm down, Brenda, and listen to what the officer has to say. He hasn’t accused us of anything yet.” Carter then looked over and saw the twins peeking into the room from the kitchen, and Carter quickly waved his arm once to shoo them away.

  “I’m not accusing anyone of anything,” the officer began. “All that I’m saying is that we’re beginning to recognize each other. Sometimes that happens in this line of work. Is that a good thing? Is that a bad thing? I guess we’ll find out in due time. Sometimes these things work each other out in a what comes around, goes around kind of way.”

  “Can you just get to it and be on your way,” Brenda snapped.

  Officer Barney looked at Carter. “Sir, I suggest you hold her tongue for her if she can’t do it herself. She’s interfering with an investigation, and that happens to be a crime punishable by the laws of the state of Colorado, and the laws of any of the other states… just take your pick.”

  Carter had his arm around Brenda and squeezed her shoulder as a message to keep it quiet and let the officer speak. He knew that Brenda had heard his message too, so he didn’t need to warn her of anything again.

  “There was a car accident in Boston, Massachusetts which resulted in two deaths. Trevor Greenfield and Cynthia Boswell were both killed instantly… dead at the scene.”

  Carter’s heart skipped a beat as he stared at the officer with his mouth open. “Oh my God,” he said. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Cynthia was my friend Charlie’s girlfriend, and he recently passed.”

  Brenda went along with it and comforted him like a good, caring girlfriend should do in trying times like the death of a friend. “Such a tragedy,” she said as she rubbed Carter’s back.

  “So Cynthia was the girlfriend of Charles O’Neill,” the officer continued, “who was the victim of a burglary, which took his life a week or so ago, as you know, and they were both tenants of yours?”

  “That’s… that’s right,” said Carter. “Actually, Charlie was a friend of mine, and he was renting my house. Brenda and I moved out here to Colorado four years ago.”

  “Well, I was contacted by the Boston Police Department and they wanted us to get in touch with you… the homeowner… for permission to enter the premises and take a look around.”

  Carter stumbled and stuttered a bit before saying, “Fine.”

  “And they also need to take the computer with them and search it for files.”

  “Fine. I don’t care about that. Of course they can do whatever they need to do to get that scumbag who murdered my best friend. Tell them to take whatever they need.”

  “Thank you, Carter. That was the answer we wanted.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Brenda. “Why would you search Charlie’s house and take his computer to search for his killer if you believe it was a random act?”

  Officer Barney paused, trying to think of a way to say what he was about to say. “Carter… when the Boston investigators were poring over the surveillance recordings from the night Charles was murdered, they picked up on a couple of notable identifiers. Firstly, the guy who did this to your friend had a very unusual tattoo on the back of his hand. He was wearing a black hoodie with one white stripe around the midsection. He had purple and yellow sneakers with a distinct tread pattern.”

  “And… ” Brenda said.

  “These three identifiers were found on the deceased body of Trevor Greenfield, who was lying next to the deceased body of Cynthia Boswell. Trevor had that same tattoo on the back of his hand and the hoodie and sneaker prints matched the murderer’s hoodie and sneaker prints. Both nights were warm and the hoodie was still on and pulled up over his head. It was interesting that Cynthia was with Trevor, who appeared to be the killer of her boyfriend. They were able to get access to Trevor’s computer and found many months of email traffic to and from Cynthia.”

  Brenda made a sigh of disgust, and Carter pulled her body toward him from the side. The officer paused to take a breath and continued with the findings. “It appears to be the case of Cynthia and Trevor having an affair behind Charlie’s back… you call him Charlie, do ya?”

  “Yes… Charles, Charlie, either is fine, actually. He was a great guy, and if those two had anything to do with his death, then I’m glad they’re dead and may they rot in hell.”

  “Actually, I was just getting to that. There was sufficient evidence to obtain a warrant for Trevor’s arrest based on the email exchange with Cynthia regarding what turned out to be a premeditated murder. They had been planning this murder of Charlie for months.”

  Carter’s mouth was open in disgust and shock, but Brenda was more pissed off than anything. “So it wasn’t a botched robbery that killed Charlie?”

  “No,” said Officer Barney. “According to the email exchange, Trevor was to follow Charlie around until he got the chance to do him in. They set it up to look like a botched robbery so the police wouldn’t start by questioning the people in Charlie’s life, and they would be able to ride off into the sunset together. Problem was… they were not smart criminals and they formulated this plan via email, where nobody but they would see. That’s how foolproof their plan was… or so they thought.”

  “Ho… ly… shit!” Brenda said. Carter still could not speak. They both knew how the story ended, and that they were a part of it, without even knowing the entire story until now. They were pissed off enough about the tacky and inappropriate affair. The premeditated murder was just barbaric and appalling, and that very moment erased any shame or guilt that Carter may have had about his involvement in the car crash that killed Trevor and Cynthia. He knew for damn sure that Brenda felt the same way. She was sitting next to him and Carter could feel her trembling.

  “So what now?” Carter asked. “What needs to be done?”

  Officer Barney took his cap off his head and scratched at his bald spot, then put the
cap back atop his head. He stood up from the couch in what appeared to be more of him needing to relieve his butt and stretch his legs. “Now that we got your cooperation, we won’t have to bust down your door. We just have to figure out how to get ahold of a house key instead of mailing one from here to Boston. That would take too long and impede the investigation. Every minute counts, even though our two suspects are dead.”

  “Actually, they can pick up a key at the realtor’s office in Boston. It’s right around the corner from the house. They have a spare key, and I’ll contact them and let them know that the Boston police will be by to pick it up.”

  “Thank you, Carter. That will be much appreciated.” Officer Barney lifted his legs back one by one as if he was preparing to run a 5k race. He looked around the room, and then his eye caught something toward the kitchen that Carter could not see. “Who’s the little guy? You two have kids?”

  “No, no,” said Carter. “That’s one of two. We have roommates who have twins.”

  “Well, isn’t that delightful,” said the officer.

  “Sure is… delightful,” replied Carter. It was at this moment that it occurred to him that he had tenants all over the country, and he hoped Officer Barney did not pry into ownership of the property in Boulder.

  Officer Barney sat back down on the couch and leaned back this time, apparently wanting to mix it up a bit. “So they wanted me to ask you a few more questions, if you don’t mind.”

  “Shoot,” said Carter. Brenda said nothing, but just looked on. Last time she opened her mouth to this guy, she almost took a ride downtown.

  “Did you see anything or suspect anything out of the ordinary with Charlie or Cynthia… your tenants?”

  “Nothing. Not a thing. I got a call from Cynthia a couple of weeks ago and she was in hysterics. I didn’t even know who was calling, because she was crying so hard and trying to tell me something through the tears. It was very strange and a bit scary at first, but then I thought maybe I was getting a prank phone call.”

  “Skip the fluff. I don’t need to know about how you felt or even your relationship with your mother. Just get to the meat and potaytas.”

  “Sorry officer. I finally found out that it was Cynthia on the other end of the phone, and she told me about Charlie being gunned down in a botched robbery at a convenience store.”

  “Did she say anything else?”

  “No.”

  “What did you say to her?”

  “I apologized to her… for her loss. I lost a great friend, and she lost a fiancé. They were planning to get married.”

  “Really,” said Officer Barney in surprise. “Cynthia’s actions do not reflect a woman in love. At this point, the only motive on the table is that Cynthia wanted to replace Charlie with Trevor. They did have some sort of a plan for their life together after they took care of Charlie. This thing has premeditated written all over it. That’s all I need for now, and I have to get word back to Boston.”

  “Let me know if there is anything else you’d like,” said Carter.

  “Yeah, I’ll be in touch.” Officer Barney got to his feet and continued with his 5k preparation. He was very stiff. “Thank you for your cooperation, and it’s good to see you two again, but to be honest, I would rather not see you two anymore.”

  “Appreciate it, officer,” said Carter, ushering him to the front door to be released, “and with all due respect, sir, we would rather not see you either.”

  “No problem… you two try to have a spectacular day.” His eyes then looked past Carter and Brenda and he said in a louder tone, “You two also try to have a spectacular day.”

  Carter whipped his head around and did not see anyone there, and Officer Barney had pulled the door closed before Carter could turn back around.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Sunday morning was the day Carter and Brenda liked to do absolutely nothing. If someone could bring the Denver Post in to them from the driveway, well, they would prefer that over having to walk out and get it themselves. They even had ridiculous banter over hiring a Sunday morning chef with an omelet station. This Sunday morning was their final day off after two weeks, and they were finally rested from the long haul to the east coast and back.

  They made their way down the stairs to the smell of bacon and eggs. The aroma of coffee and toast mixed in as well. It was a great welcome for their Sunday morning, but they still thought that the chef and omelet station would increase quality of life for them. It was Wendy up to her old tricks. She had the big spread for the family and made extra for Carter and Brenda, and it was hard for them to refuse. This was the next best thing to an in-house chef, and it would do just fine.

  “There’s actually a favor we need to ask of you,” said Wendy as she was placing serving plates and bowls onto the table.

  Brenda looked up at Wendy and finally realized that she was talking to her. “Oh… sure, what would you like?”

  “Today is our anniversary and we wanted to go to the noon mass and then out to lunch, and we were wondering if you two would be kind enough to watch Billy and Willy for a couple of hours? We don’t plan on being too long, but we figured with you being home and all… ”

  Brenda looked over at Carter, who had beaten her to the punch. He had been looking at her.

  “Uhh… yeah, sure, I guess. Why not?” Carter said.

  “Fine with us,” said Brenda, looking at Carter still, but without smiling.

  “Thank you so much. We don’t get time away much, and don’t know anybody in Boulder yet… besides you guys. That would be fantastic.” Wendy looked at Brenda and whispered, “We haven’t been on a date in a long time.” Then Wendy arched her eyebrow up and then down, and winked.

  Carter could see from where he was sitting aside Brenda that she was none too pleased. She shared Carter’s sentiments about these little boys. Maybe it was just Willy, but he was weird, creepy, strange, odd, and bizarre, and that was on a good day. Billy, they could take. He didn’t appear to be the extrovert. He was more the introvert, and that helped his case and separated him from his creepy twin brother. Willy more or less gave them the willies. If they were asked to babysit for Billy only, then that would not have been a problem. He was cute, did not cause waves, and seemed easier to get along with. They always had to keep a watchful eye on Willy; so young, yet so weird.

  Before they knew it, they were bidding farewell to their adult housemates, and their adult housemates were bidding adieu to their twin boys. They could hear the sound of the muffler wane as the car began to increase its distance from the boys. When the muffler became only an echo in their ears, Carter looked at Brenda, who was looking at the twins, who were looking at her. They actually looked scared, as if they thought their babysitters were about to cause them harm.

  “So,” said Brenda, “how are we going to keep each other entertained while they’re gone?” She looked at the twins. They had straight faces when their parents left and they had straight faces now. Carter and Brenda were aware that it was only going to be a few hours, but they were certain that it would feel like eight hours. There was no emotion on their faces, they didn’t speak when they were afraid, and it seemed like they were a few hours away from a smile.

  Carter thought that maybe he would try to bond, since he and the boys had the gender connection going on. “You’re Billy,” he began, pointing to the boy he recognized as Billy based on the shape of his head, since they weren’t smiling and flashing that bottom tooth. “And you’re Willy.”

  Billy started giggling, and Willy joined in to form a chorus. That’s all it took to warm them up. Now with their parents out of the house, Carter and Brenda felt that this was the perfect time to get into the heads of the twins. Something was off ki
lter with them, and a quick question and answer session would not hurt anybody. Carter rubbed his hands together and Brenda saddled up beside him, edging her chair over a few feet at the kitchen table.

  “Billy, what do you like to do?” Carter asked.

  Billy looked shyly at Carter before answering timidly, “I like coloring in coloring books.”

  “Oh great, do you have any coloring books and crayons here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Willy, what do you like to do?”

  Billy whispered something into Willy’s ear and Willy jumped off of his seat and ran to his bedroom. He returned with something he kept hidden down the front of his shirt, holding the object against his stomach so that it wouldn’t slip to the floor, and at the same time trying to act nonchalant. His eyes darted back and forth from Carter to Brenda as if he wanted them to ask him what the hell he was doing.

  “Hey Willy,” said Brenda. “Whatcha got?”

  Willy smirked as he opened the bottom of his shirt and pulled out what appeared to be an old book.

  “Let me see what you got,” said Carter.

  “Bring it here, sweetie,” said Brenda, waving her hand to herself to encourage him.

  Willy took a step back, and then began running. Carter playfully jumped out of his chair and began running hard at Willy, easily catching up to him in the living room. He picked him up and slung him over his shoulder for the return to the kitchen. Willy laughed on the way, and laughed again after Carter bent down and transferred the little guy back onto the kitchen chair, before sitting back down himself.

  “Let’s see what you got here,” Carter said, looking at the book that he finally wrestled out of the hands of Willy. He glanced at the cover of the book. It was not actually a book, but it was more like a notebook, or memo log. He stared some more at the cover. The front cover said “Personal Diary” which surprised Carter and made him jolt his head back in disbelief. It wasn’t what he expected. He was expecting some kind of coloring book. This was not a coloring book, but rather an old, crusty and withered diary that had far outlived the twins.

 

‹ Prev