by DK Herman
Dig Deeper
A Hallie James Mystery
By DK Herman
Dig deeper.
A Hallie James Mystery
By DK Herman
©December 2016
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and other incidents are the product of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, events, locations, or organizations are purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced without written consent of the author.
Contents
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
For Jeannie Bug
ONE
I used to love toying with scammers. You know, the jerks who pretend to be the IRS, or call asking for your credit card numbers, promising to lower your interest rate. Once I got a text from someone claiming to be my cousin, needing bail money. Their anger was hysterical when they realized I was on to them and just playing along. Then I met my ex-husband, the best conman of them all. He taught me a huge lesson; marry in haste and repent at Sunny Acres Campground.
I stretched in my lawn chair and took a big swig of iced tea. Propping my feet up on a pile of firewood, I tried to forget about everything and relax into the moment. It had been a dry, scorching summer in northeastern Pennsylvania. At ten in the morning, the squeals and splashing of kids in the pool, floated through the trees. The sound made me want to take a swim that afternoon before going to work at the Inn.
Tilting my head back and closing my eyes, I inhaled clean, fresh air that still held a hint of last night’s campfires. I was getting used to the drastic changes in my life and dealing with my unusual circumstances. But this was the second week of August. If only winter wasn’t coming, I could stay here. Sure, I could move south, many people do. But I wouldn’t. I was born and raised in Pennsylvania, and I loved it. Not even a Pennsylvania winter could chase me away. I would think of something.
I’m thirty-nine, starting over alone, and afraid of the future. But hey, at least I wasn’t living in a cardboard box under an overpass. “But damn it, I miss my house,” I groaned quietly. I was referring to the beautiful home that I used to own, twenty miles north of where I sat. But now, someone else lived in it. I still dreamed of being there, cooking in my kitchen, sleeping in my queen-sized bed, reading on my window seat, or soaking in my bathtub. Then that bitch called reality crept into my dream, and I relived the nightmare of eviction all over again. I keep a bottle of tequila near my thin, lumpy bed for the nights that I can’t fall back to sleep without self-medicating. Getting a little schnockered at two a.m. was better than lying awake thinking about everything I’d lost.
My eyes opened at the sound of a car engine. There were butterflies in my stomach as I watched the silver, luxury SUV, wind its way down the dirt road. It came slowly but still making the dust fly. I knew who it was and even though I’d been dreading this conversation, it would be wonderful to see her. I’d written my Aunt and Grandmother last week to give them an address, so they could write to me. But I left out the fact that it's a campground. I should have known she’d come to find me.
I did my best to smile and pulled myself out of the lawn chair. Aunt Jeannie parked next to my small recreational vehicle. The RV, only a few years younger than me, I’d named Chitty. Thanks to my ex-husband, Chitty had been my home, and my only means of transportation since the beginning of March. When she got out of the car, I walked the few steps toward my Aunt and was quickly enveloped in a hug.
After a few moments, I heard her sniffle before she drew back and gave me a little shake. "Hallie Ann Morris, don't you ever disappear like this again. Your Gram and I have been frantic." She saw the stricken look on my face and hugged me again. "I’ve just missed you so much, sweetheart,” she said before kissing my brow.
"Hallie Ann James,” I corrected her gently. "I took my maiden name back after Max divorced me." I hated saying his name, almost as much as I hated him. But, I didn't want to use the profanity-laced nickname, I had given him in front of my Aunt. He deserved much worse than a foul nickname, but honestly, part of the blame fell on me. If only I’d been paying attention and didn’t blindly trust the lowlife, sneaking, son of a bitch, I wouldn’t be in this pickle. I bit my lip and continued my confession. "I was unbelievably stupid, Aunt Jeannie. He took everything; the house, all the furnishings, and my car." My voice wavered. "He also cleaned out my bank accounts, including the money Mom and Dad left me. It’s all gone."
Leading me back to my lawn chair, Aunt Jeannie sat at the picnic table. "How? You were only married a little over a year, not to mention that everything was yours. And I thought he signed a prenup.”
"He did. But there were papers, he insisted that I sign last fall," I said, feeling my anger rise again. “Remember when he asked me to quit my job, so we could start a family." My lips trembled.
She nodded, and took my hand.
"He had papers drawn up that he claimed were to pay off a few of his loans, and he wanted to move some money around. He told me, we would be better prepared for the reduction in income, since we agreed it would be best for our child if I stayed home until they were in school. Anyhow, I didn't read them. I was training the new person at the office, and I was so overjoyed at the thought of a baby." I blinked back tears. "I didn’t know what he was doing until it was done. I stared at the ground, my anger competing with humiliation. "Max left in my car on a short business trip. The next day a sheriff came to my house and told me to vacate the premises. The property had been sold, fully furnished in January, and the new owners wanted to take possession. He also served me with divorce papers. Until that moment, I had no idea what he was doing.” I stood up, trying to control myself. “I'm an idiot!"
"No sweetheart, just human." Aunt Jeannie stood too, putting and arm around my shoulders. "What did your lawyer say?"
"There was nothing he could do at that point. Everything was gone, and Max had left the country. He claimed he was afraid of me because I’m violent and own weapons.” Aunt Jeannie’s gasped at that revelation. I continued with my tale of woe. “My lawyer discovered that the papers I signed were legal, drawn up and notarized by his brother. Remember his brother, Mark, the divorce lawyer."
Aunt Jeannie rolled her eyes. "Who could forget that pompous ass."
I smiled weakly. "Max called him, “Mark the shark.” I guess he was right. All I have left is the RV, my clothes and jewelry, and other personal items that I could load into the RV quickly. My first stop was my bank, where I discovered that all my accounts were closed." Everything was gone, including the hope of a baby which was the reason why I married Max. Tears rolled down my cheeks.
Aunt Jeannie looked around at the other campers on both sides of us and took my elbow. I'd love to see inside your camper and use your bathroom."
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and led her inside Chitty. I was thankful I'd straightened up that morning. Still, as I looked around at the chipped paneling and worn, orange, shag carpeting, I cringed a little. It was very different from the first time, I had shown her my house. Not just my house, it was my dream home. With four bedrooms, two and a half baths, and a Jacuzzi, I'd bought it with part of my trust fund when I was twenty-five. That was ten years before ever hearing
of Max Morris, my conniving, lying, scumbag, thief of an ex-husband.
Aunt Jeannie seemed to enjoy the brief tour. "The table turns into a bed, like the couch in the back does but it’s comfier." I explained as she snooped around the kitchenette. "Iced tea?" I offered, adjusting the thermostat on the rooftop, air conditioner.
"Not until I use your bathroom.” She entered the tiny room and closed the folding door.
I found a bag of shortbread cookies in a cupboard and dumped them into a bowl. I sat at the table waiting for my aunt and nibbled on a cookie.
Aunt Jeannie called from the bathroom, “It’s charming, Hallie, but how do I flush?"
"There’s a pedal on the floor, in the front of the toilet, right side. Step on it." I yelled back while I poured the tea into plastic glasses.
"Clever,” she giggled. Soon I heard her washing her hands in the tiny sink. “The shower is a bit small but looks functional. I imagine it’s better than using the campground bathhouse."
"You know me. I like to have my own bathroom."
"Yes, I know you very well," she said, emerging from the bathroom. "Why haven't you been home for a visit since New Year's?"
I looked at my feet in cheap flip flops and took a deep breath before answering. "I was ashamed of letting this happen to me. I don’t want pity or charity. I blew it, so I can damn well dig myself out of this hole.” I blinked back more tears and looked up. "I'm working as a bartender and a waitress at The Village Inn. You probably passed it on the way here."
Aunt Jeannie shook her head. "You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, honey,” she declared. "Max was very smooth. But why didn't you go back to Allen and Williams?" She was referring to my fourteen-year career as a private investigator at one of the best firms in Pennsylvania.
"My position was filled before I left." I sighed. “This job is just temporary. I plan on getting back into private investigation when I get my living arrangements settled." Meaningfully, I looked around inside Chitty. "Winter is coming."
Aunt Jeannie's eyes sparkled. They were the same shade of leaf green as mine. They told me she was up to something. "I came here to ask a favor of you,” she said.
I was positive that this favor would benefit me the most, but I replied with a smile and a nod. "Sure, anything."
She took my hands, ignoring the chipped polish and calluses that were very unlike me. "You know, I’ve lived at home with my family all of my life. I was twenty-two when your parents died in that plane crash. I was packed to move to New York, but I stayed to help my parents in their grief." She let go of my hands and sat up straighter. "The next time I was set to leave, my father died. I couldn't go then. Not with my mother a new widow, alone with a precocious, yet adorable teenager." She lovingly patted my cheek with her soft, perfectly manicured hand.
"You want to leave Gram?" I tried not to look shocked. Aunt Jeannie deserved a life if her own.
"Just for a while," she said with an excited smile. "I've always wanted to travel. I’ve always wanted to go on a cruise and see parts of Europe." She exhaled deeply. "But I can't go and enjoy myself if Mom's alone." She put her hand up to stop me from speaking. "I know, Liv is like family and Peter's been with us since before you were born," she said, referring to the housekeeper/cook and the Groundskeeper at my family home. "But they’re not young anymore. Besides, you know that Peter sleeps in his cabin. Sure, Liv sleeps in the house, but downstairs ever since her knee replacement. Even if she was still upstairs, you know that nothing short of a bomb blast, wakes her before sunrise."
"Is Gram sick?" The thought scared me. I adored my grandmother, I didn’t like the thought of her being without Aunt Jeannie or me.
"No,” She assured me. "But, she's over seventy years old now, Hallie."
I looked at Aunt Jeannie. At fifty-three, she was still a very attractive woman. Her honey colored hair was perfectly highlighted with gold streaks surrounding a scarcely lined, oval face. We were the same height, five feet-eight, and her figure was still as slim as mine. She always dressed stylishly, putting to shame, my new habit of throwing on cutoffs and a t-shirt. She was a beautiful woman, and I was lucky to look a lot like her. But, I had let myself go to hell in the last six months.
"You need me to come home and stay with Gram." It wasn't a question. It was the obvious answer for all of us. I owed a debt to my Gram and Aunt Jeannie that I could never repay. They raised me with so much love and kindness after my parents’ death, when I was eight years old.
"Yes, please. You don't know how much it would mean to me. There’s a two-week Caribbean cruise, departing from Florida, near the end of the month. I would very much like to be on it." Her tone hopeful, she added, "I would love to go on another trip in February, to London and Paris. That time, I would be gone until spring."
The facts were, it would be very difficult to continue as I was in Chitty, especially over winter. The campground closed in October. Pennsylvania winters included bitter cold, winds, and snow. The plumbing would freeze and there would be nowhere to dump the sewer tank. It would quickly freeze into a solid block of sewage. And Chitty’s tiny furnace and thin walls would let me freeze. I hadn't managed to save enough for an apartment and furniture, yet. I only had about a thousand bucks in a coffee can. Maybe it wasn't shameful to go home for a while, and I couldn't disappoint Aunt Jeannie. Besides, I knew I was loved by my family either way. But it felt better to go home because I was needed, not because I was needy.
"OK," I said. "I’d like to give them notice at the Inn. I can tell them this evening and be home in about two weeks."
"Thank you, sweetheart!" Aunt Jeannie clapped her hands with glee. "Can I take you to lunch? We haven't chatted in so long. I want to hear more of what you have been doing here, and I've got to tell you all the gossip from home."
Lost in my misery, I didn't realize how much I’d missed my family, friends, and my home town of Herville. It was silly to stay away, hiding to lick my wounds. I suddenly couldn't wait to get back. I gave my aunt a big smile. "I have hamburger, buns, cheese, and catsup. Can I interest you in a burger over my campfire? I’ve got veggies for a nice salad, too.”
"That sounds wonderful." She held up an index finger. "Hey, I forgot something. I have a present for you!" She ran out the door, returning with a small box. “It's a phone on a family plan with Mom’s and mine. I put our numbers into it for you. I’ll be expecting at least a text from you every day until you get home. We need to know you're OK. And please, Hallie, call your Gram."
I called Gram after Aunt Jeannie left that afternoon, and my new phone was charged. I warded off a scolding for my disappearance by bringing up George. Yep, my Gram now had a "gentleman friend," to quote my aunt. Gram and George spent time together every day. I could hear the enthusiasm in Grams voice when she spoke of him. I was happy for her but concerned. I told her I couldn't wait to meet him and that was true. But he had better not be another conniving snake, or I’d make him wish he’d picked a different mark, other than my grandmother.
At work, I told my boss I would be leaving in two weeks. He wished me good luck. I didn't mind working at the Inn, but I wouldn't miss it either. We were busy that night, and I was waitressing. Wednesday specials are delicious, so we were slammed, and the night flew by. But I preferred bartending, over waitressing. As a waitress, I took crap and had to smile for a fifty-cent tip while lugging heavy trays. When I was behind the bar, I was in charge. I could and did, cut people off for being an asshole and/or ask them to leave. If you didn’t tip me or were rude, I didn’t see you when you needed a refill. Ok, I may have some control issues, but how freaking hard is it to be polite anymore?
I made it back to the campground before eleven. The was no moon, so I needed a flash light, to hook Chitty back up to water and plug her cord into the electric. I dug my old cell phone, out of a suitcase and plugged it into its charger. It hadn’t worked in months but still had my contacts in it. I reached for my new phone, amazed that I now owned the latest smart phone. I
kicked off my work sneakers, and flopped on my bed with a bag of ranch pretzels. Then I started the happy ritual of transferring names and numbers into the new phone. I started with the people most important to me.
Esther Shuman is one of my two besties. She despised her first name, but her dad had a thing for a Barbara Streisand. So, he insisted that she be named after a character from a seventies movie, starring Barbara. My friends and I watched it together when we were teens. It was a great movie, but my friend much preferred to be called Doc. Doc got the nickname because she told everyone from the time she could talk that she was going to be a doctor when she grew up. She made good. A busy general practitioner for a decade, she was understanding about lapses in communication. Although, this was the longest we had ever gone without speaking. She had never married but dated when she had the time. She was like a sister to me, and I missed her. She was first on my list to call tomorrow.
My other pal from childhood was Gabrielle Ross, now Gabrielle Thomas. We began our friendship in kindergarten, bonding over our My Little Pony’s. Gabi liked to style the manes and anything else that had hair. It was no surprise when Gabi became a cosmetologist, directly after high school. She then married her first love, Troy Thomas. They were the perfect couple and when she was twenty-five years old, Gabi had her third and last child. Soon after, she opened her own beauty salon. Due to Gabi’s hard work, the business expanded several times over the years. The last time I was in Herville there were twelve employees. Gabi also liked to laugh, be silly, and gossip.
I could hardly wait until tomorrow to reconnect with my friends. The mourning period for my marriage was officially over! I would be delighted to hear that Max fell into the Amazon and had a Spiky Candiru swim up his wiener, but I was ready to move on. This was the best I'd felt in a long time.
I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, and turned my kitchen table back into a bed before sliding between clean sheets. Chitty's air conditioner was going full tilt. The white noise was soothing, so I left it on and was reaching for a blanket when my new cell phone rang. The strange noise startled me, but I answered without looking at the caller ID. Only Aunt Jeannie and Gram had the number so far.