Carving Knife

by Christian, Claudia Hall

  “Mitch was here,” Maresol said.

  “I saw him,” Seth said.

  “He . . .” Maresol said.

  “Just sing,” Seth said.

  So they sang and waited for the police in the kitchen. The Amish taught Seth, Schmidty, and Maresol “Lob Lieb,” and Maresol taught them “Ave Maria.” They could hear the sirens moving in their direction when Mitch appeared in the hallway.

  “It’s okay now,” Mitch said. “The demon has been taken care of. Dispose of the body by fire, O’Malley. Take him back to the jungle.”

  “Will do,” Seth said.

  Maresol threw herself at the apparition, and he held her tight. They whispered back and forth. He gave Seth a fond smile. Seth raised his hand in a goodbye. Mitch gave a cocky grin and turned down the hallway. They heard footsteps move down the hall to the front of the house.

  The door of the house banged open and the Costilla County Sheriff’s ran inside. As the only lawyer in the group, Schmidty stepped forward to speak with them.

  “That man,” Abram Miller said. “Your friend.”

  “Mitch Delgado,” Seth said.

  “He’s not from here,” Abram Miller said.

  “Died more than ten years ago,” Seth said.

  “There must be much love between you,” Abram Miller said. He gestured to where Maresol was speaking to the Sheriff. “He came to us while we were on the porch. Asked us if we would mind dispatching the evil one. When we assured him that we live in God’s way, he told us to wait until he gave the word.”

  Abram Miller gave a slight nod to indicate that’s why they were at the right place and the right time. Seth nodded.

  “He is your angel,” Mark, Abram Miller’s son-in-law, said.

  “They call me Magic O’Malley,” Seth shrugged. “Mitch was always the ‘magic’ in my life.”

  “We won’t mention your angel to the police.” Abram Miller looked at his son-in-law, and he nodded.

  “Good idea,” Seth grinned.

  The men smiled at Seth. The deputy sheriffs escorted them to the front of the house, where they were joined by the boys.

  “Hey, Magic,” the Costilla County Sheriff said, as he stepped out of his car. “You responsible for getting a murderer who killed . . .” He looked at the deputy standing next to him and asked, “How many did Denver say?”

  “They think ten, sir,” the deputy said. “Hacked them up.”

  “These men shot him,” Seth said.

  The Costilla County Sheriff looked at Abram and Mark. He gave them a slow nod and then looked back at Seth.

  “Magic O’Malley strikes again,” the Sheriff said. “Are you going to make me look like a jackass like you did over in Las Animas this spring?”

  “Sir . . .” Seth started.

  “That’s what I thought,” the Sheriff said. “And the money?”

  “What money, sir?” Seth asked. “If there’s a reward, it should go to Mr. Miller and his son-in-law.”

  “That’s all taken care of by the fast-talking law-yer over there,” the Sheriff said. “I’m talking media money.”

  “It’s yours,” Seth said.

  “Good,” the Sheriff said. “Las Animas Sherriff was able to buy all new equipment for his guys—new vehicles too. We could use it.”

  Seth grinned.

  “You got a ride?” the Sheriff asked.

  “With the lawyer.”

  “Please. Do go before the news helicopters get here from Pueblo,” the Sheriff said.

  “What about . . .?” Seth gestured to the Millers.

  “They can go home,” the Sheriff said. “Ain’t nobody going to care what these fine men have to say once they find out that Magic O’Malley was here.”

  The Sheriff gestured to a deputy, who went to tell the Millers. The paramedics took Maresol to the San Luis Valley Medical Center, and the Sheriff allowed Schmidty and Seth to follow her. Seth called Barton from the car and gave him an exclusive interview, including the death of State Attorney, Brent Davies.

  Around dawn, Seth called Ava from the hospital.

  “It’s over,” Seth said.

  “I’m glad,” she said.

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  THIRTY-ONE

  Maresol spent the night in the hospital. Because her car was in the shop, Seth took her and Barton home in his truck. On the ride home, she’d insisted that Barton tell her all about the cattle-mutilation interviews. Barton had hammed it up the entire drive. They’d dropped off Barton with a wave and drove home. Seth pulled into the driveway and turned to Maresol.

  “I’d like it if you stay here for a while,” Seth said.

  “No,” Maresol said. “I have a home. I will . . .”

  “Ava and I work a lot,” Seth said. “I’d like it if you were here more to keep an eye on the place.”

  “No, I am not family.” Maresol set her jaw to stubborn.

  “You’re the only family I have left,” Seth said.

  She turned to look at him.

  “I’ll pay you double,” Seth said.

  She snorted at the idea that she didn’t already have full access to his money. She fell silent and looked away.

  “Who told you?” Maresol asked.

  “Delphie,” Seth said.

  “I see,” Maresol said. They sat for a moment in the warm car. She cleared her throat. “Seth, I would like to move into my house. But I need a real place of my own. I know you don’t like the noise and dust of construction, but you’ll just have to deal with it. Will you call the contractor and set a time for him to come over?”

  With that, Maresol got out of the car. They never spoke of it again. Seth got in touch with Maresol’s son, and they agreed to a reasonable rental fee for Maresol’s home. The payment for back rent arrived the next day.

  Over the next few months, Éowyn, with Switch at her side, played the role of Brent’s grieving girlfriend. He’d left a will leaving her everything. With no one to contest the will, Éowyn assumed control of the estate. She held a large public memorial that was attended by every politician in the state. Martha Jessep, Donna Cotton, Brent’s half-sister, and his grandfather, the Honorable Milford Davies, came down from Montana to attend a private ceremony and burial at a peaceful spot in Seth’s homestead graveyard. Éowyn gave Donna all of Brent’s pictures and Seth all of Brent’s papers and computers. After Seth had copied the information, he gave a good portion of the papers to the Costilla County Sheriff.

  When Éowyn asked about Brent’s biological father, Seth lied and said they never got around to testing it. After all, Brent Davies was gone. They’d wanted to let his tortured soul rest in peace. He never knew if she bought his lie, but she seemed relieved not to know the truth.

  A month after the incident, Seth and Liễu Chiến, now Nguyễn Làm Chinh, flew to Vietnam. They traveled to Cu Chi and took a Jeep deep into the jungle to the coordinates Seth had received from Army Intelligence. They buried Major Cotton’s ashes in a deep hole where the Rangers had died all those years ago. They filled the hole together and took turns jumping on the earth to compact it. As they walked away from the clearing, Seth realized that he’d finished the last piece of Mitch’s unresolved business.

  “Be at peace, my friend,” Seth said under his breath.

  Nguyễn Làm Chinh looked at him but didn’t ask what he’d meant. Together, the two former enemies took a trip through the Cu Chi tunnel museum that afternoon. A picture of them at the Cu Chi exhibit adorned the cover of the Tuoi Tre newspaper under the heading, “Former enemies heal old wounds.” They ended the day at Nguyễn Làm Chinh’s granddaughter’s restaurant. Her donuts were superb. They spent the rest of the night eating warm fried balls of dough and talking about death, life, and war. The next morning, Seth boarded a plane for home.

  He returned home in time to enter into a weeklong evidence conference with detectives from across the country. Late in the day on Friday, they held a news conference featuring the Best Damned
Backup Lab’s results.

  Ava went first. She’d dressed in what she thought was a professional business suit. She was so young, and so lovely, that she looked like a little girl playing dress up. He hadn’t had the heart to tell her.

  “Brent Davies brought the grant to the attention of my supervisor earlier this year,” Ava said. “With his support, we were awarded the grant to review remains from the Arizona desert. The Tucson detectives were working a cold case and by luck or fortune found similar markings in a set of unidentified remains found in the desert. My lab, in concert with the Bone Lab, has spent the last six weeks reviewing the remains. We were active participants in the Carving Knife murder case, as led by Detective O’Malley.”

  “Why did Mr. Davies assist you in getting the grant?” A voice yelled from the back.

  “We believe Mr. Davies was hoping we would find enough evidence to arrest his stepfather, Mr. Lark Cotton,” Ava said. “We found evidence that someone was butchering immigrants in the Arizona desert, but we were unable to find enough forensic evidence to arrest Mr. Cotton. However, with the help of the Coroner, we were able to match the kill landmarks on the desert remains to confirmed kills by Mr. Cotton. Had this case gone to court, we would have testified that these atrocities were committed by the same individual.

  “Detective Rick Lopez has been kind enough to allow our lab and the Coroner’s office to review his medical records as well as examine him in person,” Ava said. “I can say with confidence that the man who attacked Detective Lopez is the same man who attacked people in the desert. We have also created facial estimates of the individuals we examined. We are asking your help in publishing the images on the off chance that family members might finally be able to bring their loved ones home.

  “Detective O’Malley is here to provide you an overview of the murder cases,” Ava said. “We have conferenced with the head detectives from the departments with cases indicated in this investigation. They are here to answer your specific questions.

  “Detective O’Malley?” Ava said.

  “I’m not sure why they picked me to talk to you,” Seth said.

  “Play for us, man!” Barton yelled from the back of the room.

  “Seth O’Malley is simply brilliant,” a woman said in a fake English accent. Everyone laughed.

  “Yes, now I remember,” Seth said. “I’m used to you barracudas.”

  The reporters laughed again.

  “All right,” Seth said. “I’m going to be speaking fast, so please record or take notes. You may ask questions at the end.

  “We’ll start with the timeline,” Seth said. “As near as we can determine, then-Sergeant Lark Cotton returned from Vietnam to Tucson where he worked in Military Intelligence. He married Elisa Davies when Brent was five years old. They had one child, Donna Davies. While we believe Mr. Cotton mutilated an unknown number of small animals, cats, etc., the first mutilated human remains indicate that Mr. Cotton began attacking human beings approximately a year after marrying Ms. Davies. He continued this activity through the next thirteen or fourteen years. We know that, sometime after Brent Davies left town to go to college and Donna Cotton had moved to Montana for boarding school, Mr. Cotton killed their mother. The case was investigated by Detective Rick Lopez.”

  “He is here, and will be available for questioning later,” Seth said. “Detective Lopez appears to be the first time Mr. Cotton mutilated someone who was not an illegal immigrant. As the BDBL has indicated, the mutilation of Detective Lopez matches those done on the remains. Further, we’ve matched the ballistics from a bullet lodged in Cotton’s hip to Soledad Lopez’s 9MM, thus confirming that he was the mutilator of Detective Lopez. The Coroner will have further details for you about that.”

  Seth cleared his throat and looked out. The reporters were remarkably quiet, so he continued.

  “After assaulting Detective Lopez, Mr. Cotton traveled the country killing and mutilating people he felt had injured him in some fashion. Mr. Cotton felt that Jahnine O’Leary, Detective Seamus O’Shaughnessy’s neighbor, had been cruel to him when she babysat him as child. Detective O’Shaughnessy arrested Mr. Cotton on a DUI, thus, in Mr. Cotton’s mind, delaying his military advancement. Agent Jen Cavetti, FBI, dated him in high school in Philadelphia but left for college instead of marrying him. Mr. Cotton and Detective Eliot crossed paths on ship during the Vietnam War. Mr. Cotton believed Detective Eliot intentionally delayed his retrieval from the war zone, leaving Cotton at risk for an additional twenty-four hours. Of course, Detective Eliot did no such thing.”

  Seth gestured behind him.

  “These detectives have put in long hours chasing down every detail,” Seth said. “They are here to give you more specifics. Suffice it to say, most of the injuries Mr. Cotton was seeking revenge for were manufactured by Mr. Cotton.

  “Mr. Davies taunted local law enforcement in hope that they would discover what Mr. Cotton was doing,” Seth said. “He ordered me to investigate cattle mutilations in an effort to force me to uncover his stepfather’s handiwork.”

  “Why didn’t Davies tell someone? Go to the police or the FBI?” the woman from CBS asked.

  “That’s the million-dollar question,” Seth said. “My guess is that he was absolutely terrified of his stepfather. The Coroner found physical evidence that Mr. Cotton had viciously tortured Mr. Davies as a child. No matter how horrified Mr. Davies was by Mr. Cotton’s actions, Mr. Cotton had trained Mr. Davies not to tell a soul.”

  Seth looked out on the reporters and gave a sad nod.

  “It’s tragic,” Seth said. “The team from Tucson, including Detective Lopez, can tell you more about Mr. Davies’ early life. Suffice it to say, the young man lived in near-constant physical and emotional pain. I only hope that he’s now at peace.

  “Shall we go back to details of this latest case?” Seth asked. Seeing a few nods, he continued. “Everest MacLir was murdered and mutilated by Mr. Cotton, because Mr. Cotton did not like British Special Forces’ covert involvement in the Vietnam War. Mr. Cotton ran into Everest recently when Everest was playing the bagpipes.”

  “Everest MacLir was one of my brother Saul’s best friend’s,” Seth said. “And my friend, as well. Because of this, I have not been involved in the nitty-gritty of that investigation. Detective Tower from the Golden Police Department is here to talk to you about his case.

  “Unless there’s something else?” Seth looked up at the reporters. “I will turn the podium over to Detective Tower. Thank you.”

  Seth stepped back.

  “What about cattle mutilations?” a voice from the back asked.

  Seth smiled as if he hadn’t heard the question.

  “Detective Tower?” While the reporters screamed questions, Seth stepped back, gave a curt bow, and walked to the back. Detective Tower threw Seth an amused look and took the podium

  “That went well,” Ava whispered when he reached her in the back of the room.

  Seth nodded.

  “Wanna go home?” Ava asked.

  “And not leave for a month,” Seth said.

  “Maresol has workmen tearing up the first floor and the front yard,” Ava said. “She says she’s starting on the backyard next week.”

  “I was thinking of checking into the Hotel Teatro,” Seth said.

  “They have a piano bar,” Ava said.

  “They do?” Seth gave her his best bewildered look. She laughed.

  “Would you like to join me?” he asked.

  “For how long?” Ava asked.

  “Until the next mystery,” Seth said.

  “Sounds very fun,” Ava said.

  They walked out of the news conference.

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  Many of the characters in the Seth and Ava Mysterie
s also appear in the Denver Cereal, sweet and crunchy serial fiction. You can get a free copy of the Denver Cereal, Volume 1, everywhere you purchase e-Books.

  To learn more about Claudia Hall Christian, go to ClaudiaHallChristian.com, visit her on her blog: On-a-limb.com, or subscribe to her newsletter, Claudia’s Corner

  SethandAvaMysteries.com

  To read Seth’s report on Cattle Mutilation go to:

  Cattlemutilation.SethandAvaMysteries.com