Mellow Yellow, Dead Red

by Sylvia Rochester

  “We finished. All the bones have been recovered, and Martha is going to see that they get a proper burial.” Then Susan told Wesley in detail how she found out what really happened there. “Seeing the children and adults so jubilant when they were reunited, made me think how horrific it must have been when they were massacred.”

  “I’m glad you discovered the truth. I only wish I could find answers. Your Indian friend might be gone, but he held a broken bottle, pointed to Burkett’s grave and to the person huddled over it. He must have been trying to tell us something. I believe he was trying to help solve our present day murder. Maybe he wanted to right another wrong. That mystery person has to be the key.”

  “You and Charlie must have some idea as to who might have killed Burkett,” Susan said.

  “I wish. This one has really stumped us.”

  Wesley got up and went into the kitchen. Susan heard his empty bottle hit the bottom of the garbage can. He strode back into the living room with another beer. After taking a long pull, he paced from one end of the room to the other.

  “You are uptight.”

  “Uptight? Hell, I’m miserable. I don’t have one piece of evidence to tie anyone to Burkett. I can’t even build a circumstantial case, and I have the body. What am I missing?”

  Anger dripped from his voice. Susan had never seen him so stressed out. “You’ll find it. I know you will. But getting angry won’t help. What does Charlie think?”

  “That’s another thing. We don’t agree on anything. Charlie thinks Dale killed Edith. I’m not willing to accept that, especially since the cadaver dog didn’t find anything. I think he held her captive all these years, and she finally escaped. Her parents might be trying to protect her. If she and the mysterious person are one and the same, that would explain why we can’t find either. Hell, she could have made it home before Burkett was murdered. What if her dad killed Burkett out of revenge?”

  “You are desperate for answers,” Susan said.

  “I know it’s speculation, but that’s all I have to go on.”

  “If you feel strongly about that, then go and talk with the Nelsons in person. Talking to them over the phone isn’t the same. I suggest you show them Edith’s cross and watch their reaction. You’re good at reading people. You’ll know if they’re hiding something.”

  “You may be right. I did make a pass by their house the other night. I even parked and waited...for what I don’t know. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The house looked the same. Lights were on, and I could hear a TV.”

  “You need to relax,” Susan said, massaging the back of Wesley’s neck, which felt hard as a board. “If Edith was the mysterious person, she must know what happened to Burkett. Heck, she might even have been involved in his death and is afraid what the law will do to her. Think about what she must have gone through with that monster—five years of her life stolen from her. I can imagine she won’t be willing to trust anyone now, except her parents.

  “And how would her parents react, if she suddenly came home? You can bet they’d do whatever it took not to lose her again. You have to get inside their house, sit down with them, and win their confidence. You must be very careful how you approach them. You’ll never get answers unless they feel they can trust you.

  “Remind them how many years you’ve worked on Edith’s case, and that you’ve never lost hope in finding her alive. Convince them that you will always be on Edith’s side, no matter what might have happened during her captivity. They have to believe you will protect their daughter, no matter what, or they’ll never surrender her to you. That is, if she’s there.”

  “I can’t get her out of my mind. Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night and swear she’s calling to me. How can that be? I never met her.”

  “There are some things we can’t explain. I’m a good example of that.”

  Wesley stood and stretched. “I always feel better after talking with you. I need time alone, time to think all this through. Tomorrow, I will meet with the Nelsons.”

  Susan walked him to the door. “I know things are going to work out for you. I’ll be anxious to hear what happened.”

  “I’ll call you as soon as I can...one way or the other.”

  Chapter 18

  Wesley awoke to a downpour. The drumming of rain on the window mimicked the quivering in his stomach. If Edith wasn’t at the Nelson’s house, he was screwed. Burkett would become another cold case.

  After showering and shaving, he patted his face and neck with aftershave, a light, clean smell of lime. Blue was supposed to be a calming color, and he had the feeling he was going to need a lot of that this morning. Reaching into his closet, he selected a navy blue suit, white dress shirt, and a pale, blue tie.

  After pouring his second cup of coffee, he stood by the window and waited for the rain to slack. It didn’t. At seven-thirty, he put on his raincoat, stepped onto the porch, and opened an umbrella. Numerous puddles covered the driveway. He sidestepped as many as he could and made it to his truck.

  Wesley really couldn’t complain about the weather. The rain had held off the last few weeks, allowing investigators and the excavation team to complete their work. For that, he was grateful. He arrived dripping at headquarters, his shoes splattered with mud. After hanging his raincoat and umbrella on the rack near the door, he smoothed his damp hair.

  “Whoa, someone looks awful spiffy,” Charlie said. “Are we going someplace I don’t know about? Should I go home and change?” Charlie wore a brown suit, pale yellow shirt, and a tie with brown and yellow swirls.

  Wesley took a seat at his desk. “You look fine, Charlie.”

  Grabbing a handful of tissues, Wesley wiped the sides of his shoes. “I’d like to visit with the Nelsons this morning.”

  “You decided to tell them about the necklace?”

  Wesley nodded. “I don’t want to get there too early. Let’s give them time to get their morning routine behind them. Ten o’clock should be soon enough. In the meantime, I want to check on a few things.” He opened Burkett’s file and made note of the date his body was discovered. Then he placed a call to the Criminal Department of the Clerk of Court’s office.

  “Hi, this is Detective Grissom. Is Dawn there?” Wesley was familiar with the supervisor.

  “Hello, Wesley, what’s up?” Dawn asked.

  “I’m working the Burkett murder. Who was the judge on duty that day, and what ADA will be handling the case; should it go to trial?”

  “No problem. Give me a minute.”

  A scowl crossed Charlie’s face. “Last I heard we hadn’t found the murderer.”

  Wesley held up his hand to quiet Charlie.

  “You there, Wesley?” Dawn asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Okay, here we go. The judge on duty was Morgan and the ADA assigned to her is Zuckerman. You got a suspect?”

  “I’m working on it. Thanks, Dawn.”

  “Why are you interested in that? It might never go to trial. We don’t even have circumstantial, much less hard evidence, to convict anyone,” Charlie said.

  “I just want to be prepared, know who I’ll be dealing with.”

  “And?”

  “Zuckerman isn’t the easiest person to work with. He’s a letter-of-the law type of guy, not one to give much weight to mitigating circumstances. That could play a big part in this case.” Wesley pushed up from his chair. “Let’s go tell the chief where we stand and that we’re going to pay the Nelsons a visit.”

  Chief Smith was finishing a breakfast burrito. “You didn’t see me eating this,” he said, talking around a mouth full of food. “My wife would kill me.”

  “One thing we don’t need,” Wesley said, “is another murder.”

  The chief wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Where do we stand on the Burkett case?”

  Charlie pointed to Wesley, indicating he should do the talking.

  Wesley went over all the possibilities he and Charlie had discussed, ending with his belief that
Edith had escaped capture from Burkett and had made it home. “We’re on our way to visit with the Nelsons. I’m going to show them a photo of Edith’s cross. Hopefully, I can get them to open up to me. My gut tells me Edith’s there.”

  Chief Smith rocked back in his chair and blew out a whistle. “If she is, we’ll have news people crawling all over this place. It’s important we hear her story before anything leaks. If she killed Burkett, it would be justifiable homicide. Hell, her life was threatened every day. After years in captivity, no jury would convict her, and she shouldn’t be dragged through the courts.

  “Take your recorder. Get her permission to tape her story. We’ll want the DA onboard with any decision I make. Don’t use the police radio. Contact me on your cell when you’re ready to bring her in...that is, if she’s there.”

  “I checked with the clerk. Zuckerman would be the Assistant District Attorney.”

  The chief curled his lip. “We would draw that knucklehead. He’s a pain in the...well, he’s a pain.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Wesley said. “Why not bypass Zuckerman and call the District Attorney? Explain the situation and that we’d really like his backing on this matter. Stress it would be cruel to put her though any more torture. She has to be mentally and physically scarred and will require years of therapy. Considering all the news coverage that will follow, I feel sure the DA will personally want to oversee this matter.”

  “I can’t believe we’re talking about something that might not be true. I sure hope your hunch is right and Edith’s there,” the chief said.

  Wesley and Charlie returned to their desk. Opening Edith’s file, Wesley removed the photograph of the necklace recovered from Burkett’s locker and slipped it into his inside coat pocket.

  “Grab your rain gear, Charlie. We’re going to find out which of us is right. You say she’s buried somewhere in those woods. I say she’s at home, and we’re about to bring an end to her nightmare.”

  On the way there, Wesley’s mind raced like a gerbil on a wheel. “Charlie, I have a favor to ask.”

  Charlie cocked his head to one side and waited.

  “I’d like to go in alone at first. That might put the parents more at ease. Would you mind waiting in the car and giving me a chance to see if I can get through to them? Maybe they’ll produce Edith.”

  “What if they do? What if she comes out and confesses to killing Burkett? Are you gonna’ lie and tell her not to worry, that you can make it all go away? You don’t know that the DA will go along with the sheriff. He could bring it before the grand jury.”

  “At least, I have assurance that the chief won’t file charges. If she’s there, I only hope I can find the right words to reassure her. But before she tells me anything, I’m going to motion for you to come inside. I want you to witness her story.”

  “And then what?”

  “Then we make sure that bastard gets what he deserves, a place to rot in Hell. After we hear from Edith, I’ll call the chief then bring her in.”

  By the time they reached the Nelson’s place, the rain had slacked. A drizzle, more like a mist, hung in the air. Wesley pulled the Crown Victoria into the driveway.

  “Well, look at that,” Charlie said, pointing toward the house. “Someone’s planning to move.”

  Wesley couldn’t believe his eyes. A “For Sale” sign in the front yard caught him totally off-guard. It wasn’t there the other night. “That can only mean one thing, Charlie. She’s there.”

  Wesley stepped out of the car. The rain had soaked the freshly cut lawn and created a scent reminiscent of his childhood. Many a time, he had been caught in a downpour while cutting his yard. He would sit in the garage, plucking blades of grass, like green leeches, from his legs. And the smell that drifted to him off the hot pavement also tweaked his nose. Breathing in the memories, he stepped onto the Nelson’s porch.

  Ronald Nelson opened the front door before he had a chance to knock. “This is a surprise but always good to see you. Come in.”

  Oh, he’s good, okay. This was going to be harder than Wesley thought. I’m curious to hear his explanation about the For Sale sign. “It’s been a while. Thought I should let you know there’s been a new development in Edith’s case.”

  Myrna Nelson walked into the room. “Wesley, we were just talking about you. You have news?”

  As Wesley reached for her hand, he was struck by the overwhelming scent of honeysuckle. Susan had smelled honeysuckle. Was this an omen? Did it tie to her vision?

  “Good to see you, Myrna,” he said, shaking her hand. “You’re looking well.” While somewhat heavy set, Myrna looked fit and the green, sleeveless sundress was most becoming. “Am I wrong, or do I smell honeysuckle? I know it doesn’t bloom at this time of year.”

  “It’s my favorite potpourri,” Myrna said, smiling. “It keeps the house smelling fresh, especially on such a dreary day.”

  Wesley nodded. “I wish I could tell you I’ve found Edith, but I can’t.” He noticed Ronald and Myrna exchanged glances. “However, my partner and I did discover another piece of evidence.”

  “You must tell us all about it,” Myrna said. “I was just fixing to pour Ronald and me some coffee. Would you like a cup?”

  Myrna’s demeanor was relaxed...too relaxed. She was always on edge on Wesley’s previous visits. Today, she didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

  “Thank you,” Wesley said. “I’d love a cup.”

  Myrna headed into the kitchen, and Wesley followed. “No need to bring it into the living room. I’m more at home in the kitchen anyway.” He took a seat at the kitchen table and Ronald joined him.

  “So what’s this new piece of evidence?” Ronald asked.

  Wesley removed the photograph from his suit coat and handed it to him.

  Edith leaned over her husband’s shoulder to take a look. She gasped and placed her hand over her heart. “It’s Edith’s cross.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  Ronald’s face remained stoic. “Yeah, it’s hers all right. Where’d you find it?”

  “I suppose you’ve heard about Palmetto’s latest murder victim, Dale Burkett? We found it among his belongings when we executed a search warrant. Earlier we had found another piece of jewelry belonging to Nina Hasting, a previous murder victim. It was also among Burkett’s possessions.”

  “Are you saying that this Burkett fellow killed this Hasting woman and our Edith?”

  “Not at all. We have proof that he killed Nina Hasting, but we have no evidence that he killed Edith. But finding her necklace in Burkett’s possession does tie him to Edith.”

  “He could have found it, just like someone found her bracelet,” Ronald said.

  “The fact that both pieces of jewelry were found in medicine bottles suggests that Burkett was keeping them as souvenirs. We have proof that he killed Nina Hasting.”

  Myrna joined them at the table. Both she and her husband drank their coffee in silence.

  “Why are you selling your house?” Wesley asked. “Wouldn’t you want to be here when we find Edith?”

  Ronald pushed his cup aside. “Myrna and I have come to the conclusion that after five years, the odds of finding her alive are almost non-existent. We’ve decided it’s time to put the past behind us and move on with our lives. My sister, Celia, in Georgia has a large farm and could use extra help. She’s offered us a house on the property, and it would mean a chance to be with family. I’ve made arrangements for Myrna to go ahead, and I’ll handle the sale of the house. When that’s done, I’ll have the movers pack up everything.”

  Myrna Nelson picked up the photograph of Edith’s necklace. “Celia has a girl about Edith’s age. The two look so much alike, they could be sisters.”

  “Sounds like you’ve given up on finding Edith alive,” Wesley said.

  Ronald shrugged, and Myrna cast her eyes downward.

  “Well, I haven’t. Maybe you’ll change your mind when you hear that Burkett kept someone captive in a cabin deep in the w
oods, and we have evidence that the person escaped. There was a chain with an ankle bracelet attached to the wall, and ropes tied to the headboard and foot of a bed.”

  “How do you know that person escaped?” Ronald asked.

  “The ropes were cut through by glass shards that littered the floor. And we have a witness that saw someone crouched over Burkett’s grave. That same person then bolted through the woods. I’ve been trying to track that person ever since.”

  “Who is this witness?” Ronald asked.

  “I’m not at liberty to say at this time.”

  Myrna gathered the coffee cups. Her hands shook so that the cups rattled. Ronald’s stoic face was flushed, and his eyes had narrowed. Wesley knew he was getting to them. As he looked around the kitchen, he noticed some first aid supplies on the counter top—rubbing alcohol, gauze pads, and Band-Aids.

  He pointed to them. “Did someone get hurt?”

  Myrna blurted out that she cut her leg while working in the garden.

  Wesley looked at her legs. “I don’t see any bandages.”

  She hemmed and hawed, then rubbed her thigh. “It wasn’t a bad injury, but it’s in a place I’m not willing to share with the public.”

  A stack of clothes on the ironing board also seemed out-of-place in Myrna’s neatly kept house. “That looks like a day’s worth of ironing.”

  “They were Edith’s. I’m taking them to Goodwill,” Myrna said, avoiding eye contact with Wesley.

  “Hmm, they look new to me. Some even have price tags.” Wesley took Mrs. Nelson’s hands. “You know you can trust me to protect Edith. She’s come home, hasn’t she?”

  “Of course not,” Ronald said.

  “I could call my chief, ask him to get a search warrant, but I don’t want to do that.”

  Myrna broke down crying. “She’s our daughter. We can’t desert her.”

  “Hush, Myrna,” Ronald said. “He’s bluffing.”

  Wesley pulled out his cell phone, punched in a number, and set it on speaker.

  “Sheriff’s Office. How may I help you?” someone asked.