The Morelville Mysteries Collection

by Anne Hagan

  “Were any of the people you were working with on your side caught?”

  “Nope. Just little old me.” She rolled her eyes. “I told you I didn’t know nothin’ that could help you.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that.”

  Chapter 24 – Mel

  5:30 AM, Tuesday, June 24th, 2014

  Mel pulled her pick-up truck into the boat ramp lot at Dillon Lake. She stepped out into the cool morning air.

  The sun had just come over the Eastern horizon. Soon the day would turn muggy but, for now, it was comfortable enough to go on a wild goose chase just to satisfy her own curiosity.

  Parking for the launch ramp area extended left from the ramp as you faced the lake. Down the lake from the right of the launch ramp was the direction the patrol boat had come from with Terri’s body.

  Mel looked toward the wooded shoreline on the right. There was a small footpath through the dense foliage that likely was used by fishermen who worked the little inlets and rocky areas of the shore. Mel locked up her vehicle and then headed down the path.

  She picked her way slowly and looked around carefully in the low morning light. After several minutes walking, she came to an area where it was obvious there’d been recent activity off path, away from the shore. Using her hunters instincts and moving slowly, trying not to disturb the apparent drag trail that was already there, she went deeper into the woods herself.

  In a tiny clearing, Mel came across the remnants of some police tape on the trees. Looking around methodically, dried blood was evident on some leaves in one area. She’d found the place that Terri was killed. Other than the bit of blood and a couple remnants of tape on the trees, the area had been picked clean of evidence.

  Returning to the path almost exactly as she’d come in, Mel picked her way down a slight slope that was peppered with rocks and some overgrowth of thicket to the lake. The distance was about a quarter of a mile from the spot where Terri was killed to the lake by the path the killer appeared to take.

  She peered up and down the shoreline and out onto the water. A boat was half a mile off and further to her right. She could see two men fishing from it. They were quiet in the still of the morning, hoping for bites.

  It was getting warmer already. Mel took her duty hat off and mopped her brow with the back of her wrist. She’d worn the short sleeve uniform shirt today but her vest weighed heavy on her already and, though she was in excellent shape, it wasn’t a cake walk working off trail.

  Replacing her hat, she moved back toward the worn path and hustled toward her vehicle. When she reached the parking lot, she noticed a fisherman unloading his gear from his own truck.

  The older man glanced over at Mel, looked away and then did a double take as his head shot right back around to look at her. He peered at her closely and she stared right back at him.

  “Can I help you sir?”

  He glanced away and then back and shook his head slowly. He set his gear back down in the bed of his truck and started toward her. “I figured you’d be around to the dam sooner or later. That’s why I come down here instead. I shoulda’ known you’d find me anyway.”

  “Do you have something to tell me?” Mel stood resolutely, not sure whether to trust the man approaching her or what his interest in her was.

  “You’re the Sheriff, aren’t you?”

  “Yes sir. Melissa Crane.”

  “That’s what I figured but the vehicle there threw me for a minute. I knew you’d come lookin’ for me sooner or later.”

  “I haven’t been to the station yet. I thought I’d stop out here first.”

  “You’re a smart one, I’ll give you that.”

  Mel simply nodded and waited for more from him.

  “So how do you want to do this? Do you want to call for one of your cruisers to take me in or do you just want me to follow you...or you can follow me. I know where the station is. I’m not going to run. I know I did wrong. It’s time to do right.”

  “Why don’t we just talk a little bit first and then we’ll decide what to do.”

  “That sounds fine.”

  Me took her notebook out of her shirt pocket. “What’s your name?”

  “Why, it’s Thomas Roberts,” he said in a tone that indicated he thought she would know that.

  Mel picked up on his tone and played it off, “Yes, of course Mr. Roberts and, just for the record, can you give me your actual street address.”

  Thomas reeled it off to her and she scribbled it down. “Now, why don’t you start from the beginning and tell everything no matter how small you think it is.”

  “Well, okay then.” He took a deep breath and began, “I’m retired now...did my time in the Army and then I worked for the post office for 25 years, you know. Never missed a day of work except when my mama died.”

  Mel leaned back against her truck.

  He continued, “I always wanted to spend my time fishin’ and just foolin’ with tackle and flies and such. My wife though, she got real sick with the cancer and all right after I retired and I had to take care of her, like. Now she’s gone too and I ain’t got nothin’ better to do than fish.”

  “I come here to the lake almost every day. Most days, I do a little fly fishing out and around in the morning. If I’m lucky and I do good like, I go home at lunch time and make me a sandwich then I clean up my catch and that’s my supper later.”

  Mel nodded, “And something different happened recently didn’t it?”

  Thomas nodded back, “Yeah, it sure did. I tied some new flies last week and was trying my luck with them in the mornings along a couple of the little inlets around here. I wasn’t doin’ too good though. Either my flies weren’t quite right or them fish just weren’t bitin’. I wasn’t catchin’ nothin’ out and around the lake.”

  “So, you didn’t go home for lunch did you?”

  “No ma’am, I sure didn’t. When I have a bad morning I like to try and make up for it the best way I know how.”

  “And how’s that?”

  “I go after catfish in the spillway. It’s fun and they’re pretty easy to catch. They ain’t the best eatin’ for ya but it’s better than no fish a’tall.”

  “So you did a lot of afternoon catfishing in the dam spillway last week, I take it?”

  He nodded.

  “You saw something while you were at the dam last Saturday, didn’t you?”

  He shook his head no.

  “You didn’t see anything?” Mel sounded confused.

  “I didn’t but I said I did. It was crowded that day ‘cause it was Saturday. There are a lot of people what that fish the spillway and the river on nice weekends. The lady that paid me said to say I saw that woman but I really didn’t and I know I should never have taken that money...”

  Mel held up a hand to stop him but he rambled on, “I knew it was wrong to lie about that. I knew taking the money was wrong. Then, when I saw you on TV, I knew what I done was bad...”

  “Mr. Roberts, please stop for a minute.”

  He looked at her with tears in the corners of his eyes, “What’s going to happen to me?”

  “Well, since you’re confessing to a crime, I’m going to read you your rights. After I do that, I’m going to have to handcuff you and call for a squad to take you downtown to the station. We’re going to get a formal statement from you there and then the DA will decide what happens after that.”

  “The DA?”

  “The District Attorney.”

  “Oh...”

  Chapter 25 – On the Move

  7:30 AM, Tuesday, June 24th, 2014

  “Sarah I really do appreciate you letting me stay here these last few days while I tried to sort some stuff out.”

  “I love having you here Dana; I just wish things had turned out a little better for you.”

  “Me too.”

  “So, what’s your plan?”

  “I’m just going to have to go back to Ohio and face the music, I guess. I’ve got a lawyer...I hope...if
he’ll still talk to me after this.”

  “You gave him a retainer right?”

  “Well, yeah, but...”

  “Relax then. He’ll at least hear you out. No lawyer likes to give money back once they have it in hand. Ask your ex-husband about that!” We both chuckled.

  “I’ll leave when you leave for work. I’m going to head over to the casino in Joliet first and clue the security head there about what was really going on with the card theft scam so he can do a proper investigation and then I’ll be on my way to Ohio. Wish me luck?”

  “Of course!” Sarah came over to me and hugged me close.

  I was glad to have the woman who’d been like a sister to me back in my life. It gave me a little piece of mind as I contemplated the road ahead of me.

  10:20 AM, Tuesday, June 24th, 2014

  I had a brief meeting with Michel Roan. He was surprised to see me again but interested to learn what the real intent was with the theft of the player’s club cards. I felt like I owed him that much for talking with me at all on Sunday.

  My good deed done for the day, I sat in my car in the employee lot at the casino, waiting for my phone to power up. When it did, I ignored the voicemails I’d received and only scrolled through the text messages quickly. There’d been several from Mel over the weekend but none since. Odd!

  Yesterday there’d been two texts from Joshua King. I took the time to read those. The first was:

  Joshua: I have information for you. Are you coming in today?

  That was early yesterday. A couple of hours later he sent me:

  Joshua: You’ve been indicted. You need to come in ASAP.

  I realized I needed to call him right away. I tapped his name on the text message and waited while the call went through. His high class assistant answered in her haughty tone and informed me that Joshua was with a client. I expressed my urgent need to speak with him but she couldn’t be swayed to interrupt her boss so I left message with her to let him know that I’d call him again at noon and then I turned my phone back off.

  I was still going to head back to Ohio but I’d report into the OSHP on my terms. One thing I knew for sure, they weren’t going to get the opportunity to pick me up at the state line.

  An idea occurred to me and, from that, a plan began to form. First, I drove around to the casino customer parking lot and I parked my car as close to the main entrance as possible. The casino wasn’t busy on a Tuesday morning so I could get fairly close in, in an area of the lot where there were always cars parked. Mine wouldn’t stand out if it was left there for a day or two with in state plates.

  A couple of taxi cabs stood near the entrance on standby. That has to be boring for a cabbie on a slow Tuesday... I approached the first taxi and asked the driver to take me to the closest Greyhound terminal.

  While the cabbie drove like a maniac, I turned my phone back on and I called my former roommate Cheryl’s cell phone. I’d shared an apartment with her for several months while I was temporarily assigned to the Cleveland Port of Entry Customs Office to work a smuggling case.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey Cheryl, its Dana.”

  “Girl, how in the hell have you been?”

  “Cheryl honey, it’s a long story.”

  “Well you know I don’t have time for all that while I’m working, so what can I help you with?”

  “I need a favor.”

  “Anything baby.”

  “It’s kind of a big favor...”

  “What is it sugar?”

  “I’m going to need picked up at the Cleveland Greyhound terminal some time tonight or early tomorrow morning...like really early,” I drug the word out, “and then when I get to Cleveland, I’m going to need to crash for a bit and borrow a car for probably a few days.”

  “Ooooo, I wish I had more time to talk to you right now! This sounds like there’s a good story in there!”

  “You have no idea! So, do you think you can help me?”

  “Of course I can, so long as you tell me the story.”

  “You got it. I’ll text you when I’m on the road and let you know what time my bus will be in.”

  I cooled my heels at a seedy bus terminal while I waited for my coach to arrive. At least I was lucky for once and I wouldn’t have to wait long. The next bus to Cleveland departed at 12:01 PM. Even though I detested the idea of being on a cramped bus all afternoon and evening, crutches and all, I couldn’t have timed my meanderings this morning any better.

  Once we were on board and safely outside of the city limits of Chicago, I powered up and called my lawyer again. I couldn’t risk using my cell from a bus terminal just in case GPS was really that good and the Ohio authorities could figure out I was going Greyhound.

  He got on the line, “Dana?”

  “Joshua, I am so sorry!”

  “Are you on your cell phone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t say anything about where you are or what you’ve been up to. I do want to let you know that you’ve been indicted.”

  “I know. I saw your message.”

  “Right. Good. On the other hand, I subpoenaed your phone records and the vics’ like we talked about. Your cell records showed what I expected and so did the others. Two interesting things though; one, there is no record of OSHP requesting the records.”

  “Ha! No surprise there.”

  “Well that’s definitely in your favor and, two, your cell records and your records only where pulled by someone at the Columbus police department. Do you care to guess who?”

  “Officer Noland Troutman III?”

  “Bingo!”

  “Can he do that?”

  “Legally, no, but it didn’t stop him.”

  From the bus terminal in Gary, Indiana where we stopped for passenger pickup, I bought a $5.00 phone card and called Mel’s personal cell from a good, old fashioned pay phone. My call rolled to her voicemail as I suspected it would during her duty hours. I waited for the prompt and then left her a brief message.

  “Sorry I’ve been out of touch. I’m on my way back now. We need to talk before I go in.”

  I just hope she’ll see my side of the story and forgive me for leaving and keeping her in the dark...

  ###

  The sun had set minutes before we pulled into the Cleveland terminal. It was all that I could do to lever myself out of my seat after riding for nearly eight hours with no leg room. I waited until everyone else got off and then I pulled my crutches down from the overhead bin and made my own way slowly off the bus. Cheryl was standing just inside the terminal doors to greet me. I’d never been so happy to see a friendly face in my life.

  We headed to the apartment that had been a temporary home for me for a time and that thought gave me some comfort. On the way, I talked and Cheryl both listened and gave me her two cents whenever I stopped for a breath. Her streetwise layman’s take on my big mess was both refreshing and cathartic.

  Wednesday, June 25th, 2014

  Cheryl had a little beater of a car that she drove most of the time. For the hard Cleveland winters and the sometimes harsh drives to the Ashtabula Port of Entry where she held an admin position with Customs, she had a slightly newer Ford Escape SUV. She handed off the keys to the SUV and sent me on my way after breakfast with strict orders to keep her posted on my case. Again I felt buoyed by the support of a friend.

  I debated whether I should head toward Zanesville or toward Columbus. My intent was to find a little no-tell motel to stay in until I could talk to Mel. I wasn’t going to see Joshua King until after I got a chance to see her and talk with her but I knew, sooner or later, King and I would have to meet too and do what had to be done. I chose Interstate 71 and headed south toward Columbus.

  After I passed by all of the Mansfield exits on I-71, I got off the freeway at the next exit and then took back state routes until I found a little no-tell motel to stay at. It would have to be my base for a night or so until I could have a sit down meeting with Mel somewhere.
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  Chapter 26 – Secrets

  Wednesday Afternoon, June 25th, 2014

  After I checked in to the little 10 room roadside motel that time seemed to have forgotten, I asked the desk clerk where I could find a pay phone. The otherwise dated rooms did have phones but I didn’t want to take the risk of calling Mel and being traced if, because of me, she was being tracked now too. The barely out of his teens young man behind the counter just shrugged at my question. He was so young, he probably had no idea what a pay phone was.

  I was back in the SUV stopping at every little store, dinner and gas station I came to, looking for a public phone. One finally materialized about 4 miles from my motel out in front of an old tire repair shop that had seen better days like most everything else around.

  I sure hope it works! Balanced on my crutches, phone card at the ready, I went through the long, drawn out dialing process. To think we used to have to do this all the time when we traveled before cell phones...what a pain in the ass!

  I waited to be connected to Mel’s personal cell. My call finally went through then I waited through one ring, then three more and then I was connected to her voicemail. I started to leave a message:

  “I’m back in Ohio and I need to see you. We need to talk before I...”

  ‘Please deposit $1.00’ a mechanical voice said over the line.

  “What the fuck! Now I remember why I hated phone cards!” I yelled into the glass walls of the booth.

  I’d left my wallet and what little actual coinage I had in the SUV. By the time I hobbled the ten yards back to where I’d had to park Cheryl’s Escape, retrieved my wallet and hobbled back to the phone booth, my call had been terminated. I slammed the receiver back into its hook in frustration. There’s no way I’m turning on my cell phone in Ohio right now...I give up!

  My leg was hurting and my head hurt even worse. I stopped at a local carryout store on my way back to the motel and bought some overpriced ibuprofen and a bottle of water and I took a couple of the tablets right there in their little, dusty parking lot. As soon as I was back in my room, I lay down on top of the bedspread and drifted off.