by Anne Hagan
Dana glanced at me and then back at the road. “There’s a little time. She’s waiting to close on it. It’s a private sale...just waiting for the lawyers to do their thing...could take a couple of weeks.”
“Well then, that puts us into November. Is she really going to want to decorate over the winter? That could get ugly around here.”
“Good question...I don’t know.”
“Maybe I should just talk to her. Feel her out on the whole thing.” Dana kept her eyes on the road but I could see her smirk plain as day.
It was early so Kris hadn’t headed into work for the afternoon shift at the gas station yet. While Dana went to round her up to help us get the dry sink into the house, I gave Faye a quick call.
In a rush, I told her I only had a minute and I relayed what Dale had told me about being out making a delivery. Faye listened without comment.
When I finished and she’d still said nothing, I asked, “Do you think he might have something to do with Terry’s death after all? I mean, would he really push him in the drink, all over a deer or even over the poker stuff he told us about?”
“It’s doubtful dear. Dingy is capable of a little anger but I don’t think he’d ever be physically violent with another human being.”
“Well what could he be hiding then?”
“I’d think it’s obvious; he’s having an affair. Terry Ford wasn’t the only cheater in town, you know.”
Chapter 22 – Ah Ha Moments
Mel
Wednesday Morning, October 21st, 2014
Shane and I were sitting in my office, combing through Sheila Ford’s bank and cell phone records for anything that would show she was in Tennessee on Saturday, the 6th of September, the day Patricia Dunkirk died.
We’d jumped through some hoops to get the kind of cell records we had that showed global positioning, quickly. It didn’t take me any time at all to find out there was a call made from her number that bounced off a tower in southern Kentucky early that Saturday that would have been near the route both Sheila and Terry would have likely taken.
Shane held up a bank statement, “They have a joint checking account and Sheila has a separate credit union account. This is the joint statement.” He laid it in front of me and pointed, “It shows a filling station purchase, probably gas given the amount, in northern Tennessee that could have been made by either of them if we’re still figuring the timing of their departures from home as being less than an hour apart.” The look on his face was more a question than a statement.
“You know as much as I do on that score. I talked to Helen Vance yesterday, the woman my mother talked to at Terry’s funeral. She wasn’t a lot of help. It seems that Sheila did come crying to her but It was probably the afternoon of Sunday, the 7th because she insists it was ‘broad daylight’ when Sheila was there and that wouldn’t have been possible given that Patricia Dunkirk was killed around 2:30 Saturday afternoon, according to the media reports from Tennessee. It’s a seven hour drive back for Sheila with no stops. So, I can’t even verify the time she got back let alone the time she might have actually reached ”
“How much do we trust Vance not to say anything to Sheila Ford?” Shane asked.
“I don’t. That’s why I told her I was just trying to tie up some loose ends on Terry’s death, to satisfy everyone that it was an accident and that Sheila couldn’t possibly have done it. I just opened with her talking with my mom at the wake and that’s how I knew that she knew Sheila.”
“Smart. That’s why you’re the Sheriff.” Shane smiled.
“I’m beginning to think that I’m the Sheriff because I was the only one dumb enough to step up when Sheriff Carter died...”
“That’s not true and we both know it. You were always the best person for the job and now you’re the duly elected one. If only you could get someone to step up and help me out at detective...not that I mind working with you, ya’ know, but it’s wearing me out.”
I sighed. “I know Shane. I’ve talked to Treadway. He’s not interested. Some of the younger guys with potential just don’t have enough seasoning for my liking yet. Would it pain you if I looked outside; like, say, at other departments?”
“No ma’am! I’d rather have someone from somewhere else that’s got the time on the street and wants it than someone who doesn’t have the experience that will completely slow us down.”
“Gotcha. Point taken.” I dropped my head back down and continued to scan through the cell records. Nothing at all jumped out at me as out of the ordinary. There was only the one call to question out of pages of data. Nothing else for that day came from her phone outside of its home area.
I glanced through the text records...nothing. Sheila Ford apparently didn’t spend much time texting. I aloud, to no one in particular, “Does anyone of that generation ever text?” Shane didn’t pay me any mind.
“This is useless.” I tamped my stack of records into a neat little pile as my detective looked glanced up and then back down at his own stack. “The cell call is circumstantial,” I continued. “It could have bounced off that tower for any number of reasons. Without asking the filling station to pull their video – if they have it from more than a month ago – we have no way of knowing which one of them bought gas...” I dropped my chin in frustration.
“Not so fast Mel.” Shane held up the credit union statement he’d been studying.
“What? What did you find?”
“Sheila purchased something at Wal-Mart in Pigeon Forge on the 6th.”
Bingo! “But, what did she buy?” I tried to contain my excitement. We had her in the area.
“That, I don’t know but I’m going to give them a call, give them this transaction date and number and find out.”
“Yes Holly?” I let go of the intercom button.
“Shane Harding on line 2 Mel.”
“Thanks.” I punched the button. “Shane?”
“Binoculars.”
“She bought binoculars?”
Shane shook his head, “Yep. She most certainly did. Those, and full metal jacketed .22 rounds.”
“Check and see how that search warrant is coming along for the Ford residence, will you.”
“Roger that boss.”
I hung up with Shane and buzzed Holly back. “Holly, we just caught a break in the Tennessee case. Can you get me the DA? I’m going to have to go up the chain with this one.”
Chapter 23 – A Haunting We Will Go
Mama Rossi
Late Morning, Wednesday, October 21st, 2014
Crane Family Farm
“Chloe, I just think it’s a wonderful idea. You really should do it,” Faye practically gushed at me when I relayed to her that Barb Wysocki wanted some help decorating her new home. “You’re doing so nicely with Mel and Dana’s place, after all.”
Dana grinned beside me at the kitchen table. “She really is. We’re very pleased with everything she’s done so far and, frankly, it’s such a relief to me. Mel and I agreed that I’d take the lead with the decorating but, I admit, it really isn’t my forte.”
“Well, I gave it some thought overnight and I talked to my Mario this morning. I do think I’m going to try and work out some sort of arrangement with Barb. I need to get the girls house done first though and then I need to get back and juggle a few things at home before I can tackle that.”
“We should get going on today’s outing then; drink up,” Faye said, as she waggled a finger around the table at our coffee cups.
“You two are just going to love Sugarcreek,” Faye told us. “There’s so much there that’s handcrafted. You just can’t get that in Columbus.”
“Not in Pittsburgh either,” I replied, “not without paying a pretty penny for it, anyway.”
“Thanks for driving and for showing Mama and I the ropes, Faye. I never even heard of Sugarcreek.”
“It’s my pleasure. You’ll love it and, honestly, I’ve really enjoyed spending time with both you and your ‘Mama’, as you cal
l her.”
Faye glanced over at me beside her, riding ‘shotgun’, “I’m glad you’re going to be coming around more. We’ve sure had our little adventures, haven’t we Chloe?”
“Shhh,” I told her but I couldn’t help my grimace.
Dana might not have caught the look on my face but she latched right on to Faye’s pronouncement, “Adventures? What adventures?” She leaned into the split between the front seats and looked at me with what I’d describe in my daughter as a mixture of confusion and apprehension.
“Nothing serious dear.” I flipped a backhand up over the seat. “We just seem to keep running into people that don’t seem to care that Terry Ford is dead.”
“Or,” Faye put in, “that wanted him dead.”
“Now Faye, none of them really seemed to go that far,” I chided her.
“You two don’t still think Sheila had something to do with her husband’s drowning do you? Remember what Mel said the other day. She said...”
Now Faye waved a hand in the air, “We know what she said Dana; it’s just that...that, there’s so much going on surrounding the whole thing and it just doesn’t all add up, is all. I think if Mel knew everything we know...everything we’ve heard, she’d really give his death a much closer look but she just didn’t want to hear it at all on Sunday.”
Dana was quiet for a long minute.
“What are you thinking, dear?” I asked her.
“It’s just, Mel told you the other day what we learned in Tennessee and, well, none of it seems to tie into anything that’s happened here.”
“She told us that woman was shot with a .22,” I said. “I told her Sheila Ford has a .22 in her house. That actually ties things together pretty well if you ask me!”
“Mama, really? Do you have any idea how many people in this town...hell, in this county have a .22 in the house?”
I shrugged, “No.”
“Well I’ll tell you, it’s a lot! Mel can’t base a case on just that.”
“So you don’t think Mel will look into that or have anyone look at it at all,” Faye asked while looking in the rearview mirror at Dana.
“It’s doubtful ladies. If she looks at the rifle at the Ford place, she may as well ask to see every single .22 rifle or pistol in the county.”
We started off in Sugarcreek at Andreas Furniture then we headed over to the Amish run Troyer’s and then doubled back to Weaver’s, another Amish run establishment. Along the way we visited a couple of antique shops and a quilt shop. By the time 2:00 rolled around we were exhausted but we’d finally found a proper living room suite that Dana loved and that she and Faye agreed Mel would love too. It was scheduled to be delivered Friday. In the meantime, we picked out a couple of nice pieces and some décor for the room the girls had decided would be a sitting room, lacking any other ideas for it, but it was still a bit of a puzzle.
Gratefully, tired and hungry, we all collapsed into chairs at the Dutch Valley Restaurant. Faye looked between Dana and me, “If you ask me about anything on the menu, I’m going to tell you it’s good. I’ve never had a bad meal here and I’ve always eaten too much, so be forewarned.”
I laughed. “You’ll get no complaints from me!”
“Me either,” Dana said. Mom and dad both like to eat and I inherited that. Mel’s always getting on me about never being able to miss a meal.”
Faye swatted at Dana, “As if it matters. Look at you. You’re only just now starting to fill in a little after being laid up for so long.”
It was Dana’s turn to chuckle. “Actually, I think most of my recent gain, so to speak, is a result of our daily pancake house visits in the Smokies. Your daughter is quite the pancake fan.”
“That she is; don’t I know it!”
The server appeared to take our drink order and pass out menus. She reeled off a list of fall specials that even included drinks like mulled cider and desserts like pumpkin and hot apple pie.
“I just love fall; it’s my favorite time of year. The food, the views, the crisp air...It’s pretty at home but I’ve really been enjoying being here today,” I sighed and shook my head a little wistfully.
“Well now that makes me think of Barb again, Chloe. When does this project start?”
“The girls said she wouldn’t be closing for a couple of weeks. That puts us into late October, early November before the place is officially hers.”
“I agree that fall is beautiful here but the winter can be brutal. Colder temperatures are just around the corner and don’t be surprised to see a little snow in mid-November or so. We’re just inside the snow belt and it seems to be attracted to all these little valleys around here.”
“If you’re wanting to get started, you’ll certainly want to plan to be around for the Fall Festival in a couple of weeks but you might want to consider leaving most of the heavy work for her for late spring.”
I hopped right on the mention of a fall festival. “When’s the festival and what’s that all about?”
“What she really wants to know Faye,” Dana interrupted, “is, will there be food?”
Faye laughed. When she regained her composure, she said, “You bet there’ll be food and music and a haunted house and lots more.”
Dana leaned into the table excitedly, “A haunted house?”
“You bet. They do one every year and every year it gets a little bit scarier. They’re getting pretty good at it.”
“Who’s they?” I asked her.
“For the festival as a whole, the community, actually. There’s a community center in the old school building. I’ll have to take you up there.”
Faye paused and appeared to think for a minute then she continued, “The fall festival has been around as far back as I can remember, kind of like the spring Mushroom Festival, but the haunted house has only been going about 5 years. That’s a fundraiser for the center itself. The rest of the money they take in, like for food sales and such, goes back into the community for other things. Since Morelville is an unincorporated village, sometimes the difference between getting something done and not getting what we need is the money we raise ourselves. People come from all over for the fall fest and the haunted house.”
“That haunted house idea sounds really cool,” Dana picked the conversation back up after we placed our order. “I love those and I’d love to be involved. Who do I talk to?”
“Really? I never would have thought it,” Faye replied.
“She gets it honest, Faye. Her father and brothers are huge fans too. Her dad is in the Jaycees. Back home, they do a house every year as a fund raiser. All the kids have been involved.”
“Is that so? Well then, they’re having their final planning meeting for the Fall Festival at 6:30 tonight. Most of the main players for the haunted house end of it will be there...heck, most of the town will be there. I planned to go because I’m usually involved with the food. Why don’t you come along?”
“It’s a date!” Dana beamed.
“Make that three,” I added. I’d like to go too. If Barb wants me to get started before the snow flies, I’m probably going to be around more than I thought in the next month. I have both ‘make-up skills and cooking skills.”
“Makeup?” Faye asked.
“Gory makeup,” I told her. “You don’t think Mario puts on his own face, do you?”
Chapter 24 – Seized
Mel
Wednesday Evening, October 21st, 2014
It took most of the day but we finally got the warrant to search the Ford residence. The DA, Tyler Whitesell, ran the info I gave him up the flagpole to the Attorney General. The AG was, I hoped, coordinating with the Tennessee authorities.
Unfortunately for the Tennessee folks, I still had the round I’d dug out of the wall in the cabin and even the shell casing I’d found. We’d do the testing of the rifle here, if we found it in Sheila’s home; the DA vowed to see to that. I didn’t want the bumbling excuse of a Sheriff’s department down there to go anywhere near the evidence
Dana and I had collected.
I called Dana late in the day to tell her I’d be stuck at work a while longer and not to worry. I was hoping to sneak into Morelville with a search team without her even knowing what we were up to. It wasn’t that I expected her to blab; far from it. I just didn’t know how she’d take having to sit out something she’d been a part of from the start.
My worry had been needless; before I could even offer an excuse, Dana let me know about the Fall Festival Meeting. I knew, but Dana likely didn’t, that Sheila sat on the Community Center Board. She, if she was up to it, would be at the meeting too which gave us a prime opportunity to conduct our search while she was out of her house and most of the town was otherwise occupied.
Shane Harding and Joe Treadway rode in my county SUV with me. Two other Deputies followed in cruisers and a forensic unit from the Columbus crime lab brought up the rear. My old buddy Izzy wasn’t the tech rolling with us but I knew the one who was, Laura, and I knew she was more than competent to do the job. Still, I made a mental note to call Izzy in the morning about the Steirs case that was still pending fingerprint analysis.
We rolled into Morelville, past the gas station. Kris was on duty working her usual shift and, because she happened to be outside unlocking the propane cage when we drove through, she spied our little caravan immediately. I didn’t acknowledge her wave and I prayed that her customer, a man I didn’t recognize that was there apparently to buy propane, wouldn’t have a clue what we were about.
I pulled my truck right into the Ford driveway behind Terry’s old pickup and Sheila’s car. The two cruisers parked out along the road, allowing the crime lab vehicle to pull in behind me.
“Sheila Ford may be here,” I said to Harding and Treadway. “The sedan is her primary vehicle. I don’t consider her dangerous.”
We all dismounted and gathered in the driveway. I strode up the side porch steps I knew the Fords’ typically used and rapped on the door. There was no answer.