1 A Small Case of Murder

by Lauren Carr

  Admiral stomped his feet to signal his growing impatience. He couldn’t believe all this food was inches from his mouth and he got none.

  Donny was devouring his sundae. “Why would the sheriff warn the reverend to get rid of the body?”

  Joshua handed a banana to J.J., who sliced it for his, Murphy, and Joshua’s sundaes. “Because Reverend Rawlings is a powerful man and used to everyone following his orders. Don’t forget, Lulu said in her letter that she saw Sheriff Delaney in that picture, too. Those two went way back.”

  “The sheriff could be the killer,” Murphy concluded.

  “Yeah, but, as far as we know, the sheriff didn’t know Lulu saw the picture,” J.J. disagreed. “Rawlings did. She says in the letter that she asked him about it when she saw it.”

  Using his spoon, Murphy pointed at his twin. “Reverend Rawlings could have ordered Sheriff Delaney to kill Lulu to keep her quiet. Can you think of a better hit man? It’s perfect!”

  “Except for a little piece of mail that they don’t know about.” His masterpiece completed, Joshua leaned against the kitchen counter. “And they won’t know about it until I say so.”

  “But if these murders are perfect, then how are you going to nail them?” Sarah wanted to know.

  “Whatever happened to this sheriff?” Murphy asked.

  “He died years ago,” Joshua told them. “But Reverend Rawlings is still around.”

  “You can get him, can’t you, Dad?” Donny grinned. “You brought down an admiral.”

  “Before I brought down that admiral, I made sure I had all my facts straight. When you go up against the big players, you don’t want to miss with your first shot, because they’ll crush you before you get another one.”

  Before the kids had a chance to respond, Tad knocked on the back screen door and stepped inside without waiting for an invitation.

  When he saw that the doctor had his own dog on a leash, Admiral scurried to hide behind the protection of the children’s legs under the table.

  “Hey, gang.” Seeing the size of Joshua’s sundae, he stopped. “Man! I can hear your arteries clogging all the way over here.”

  “The man stops drinking and gives up drugs, and suddenly he’s a purist,” Joshua said

  Tracy was taking the tub of ice cream out of the freezer. “What do you want on your sundae?”

  “One plain scoop is fine for me.” Tad leaned against the kitchen counter next to Joshua. “Have you heard from Beth?”

  Joshua continued eating. “The last time I saw her she was with you.”

  “What did she tell you this morning?”

  “You know better than that. That’s confidential. What happened at the hospital?”

  “She left,” Tad said. “Jan and I have been looking for her all afternoon.”

  “Did you make Beth mad?” Joshua asked with a teasing tone.

  Tad wasn’t joking. “Yes, I did. I told her I was checking her into detox to get dried out. I left her with a nurse to go call Glenbeigh. When I came back, Beth was gone.”

  “Why did the nurse leave her alone?”

  “She got called away to help with another patient. It’s an emergency room.” Tad shook his head with a sigh. “It wasn’t her fault. I didn’t think Beth had the strength to sit up on her own, let alone get dressed and walk out.”

  “Where would she have gone?” Tracy handed his bowl of ice cream to him.

  “I have a good idea.” Tad looked down at the dessert with-out eating it. “To go find Vicki Rawlings.”

  “Vicki Rawlings is in jail,” J.J. reminded him.

  “Not anymore,” Tad told them. “Grandpa paid her bail. She was out an hour after the hearing.”

  Joshua looked at Tad with furrowed brows. “I’m afraid to ask, but I have to know—what’s Beth’s connection to Vicki?”

  “I think you know.”

  “What?” Donny asked.

  Joshua looked to Tad for confirmation while he answered. “Beth Davis is a pharmacist. Vicki Rawlings is a drug dealer. Beth was very upset about Vicki getting arrested. Why? Be-cause Vicki Rawlings might name her as one of her suppliers. If that happened, we’d be talking about something much bigger than criminal negligence. We’re talking about hard time in prison.”

  Tad handed his ice cream over to Donny. “Will you go over to Vicki’s with me to find her?”

  Joshua looked at his sundae. There was a little less than half left, but he didn’t have the appetite to finish it. Much to Admiral’s disappointment, he set it on the floor for Dog.

  Vicki Rawlings would have had a nice place if she took care of it. The drug dealer owned a doublewide trailer set back in the privacy of a hollow off Route 208, nicknamed the Race Track Road because it led straight to Mountaineer Park. Traffic was fast and heavy on the country road on race nights.

  Maintenance wasn’t on the teenage homeowner’s list of priorities. An unused tool shed rested behind the run-down trailer on the lot void of grass and vegetation.

  Dusk had turned to dark by the time Joshua and Tad arrived in their search for his runaway patient.

  Beth’s five-year-old white sedan was parked next to a dirty four-wheel drive truck in front of the trailer. The truck bore temporary tags.

  “She’s here all right.” Joshua rolled his Corvette up to the trailer. The black 1968 convertible sports car was the one toy he had managed to scrimp together enough money to purchase before having children. “Do you want me to go in alone?”

  “We should both go in.”

  Joshua reached into the glove compartment, took out his nine millimeter Beretta, and checked the cartridge. It was loaded.

  When he saw Tad’s worried expression, Joshua assured him, “It’s legal. I picked it up at the sheriff’s office with all the permits in proper order yesterday morning after my meeting with Wally.”

  “Then you met our esteemed Sheriff Curt Sawyer.”

  “Not yet. Every time I’ve stopped by his office to talk to him about Vicki, he’s been out. I’m beginning to think he’s avoiding me.”

  “Not necessarily. Sheriff Curtis Sawyer is more lawman than politician.” In a firm tone, Tad told him, “I don’t want to get caught in any crossfire. I only want to get Beth out of there.”

  “I’m here because Vicki already tried to kill you. I don’t want her to finish the job.” Joshua tucked the gun into the front waistband of his jeans.

  The trailer throbbed with the rhythm of rap music blasting from inside. They walked up the metal steps to the door.

  “I don’t recall that being Beth’s musical taste,” said Joshua.

  “It isn’t.” Tad knocked on the door. Receiving no response, he rang the doorbell. They waited.

  Joshua pressed his ear to the door. “I don’t hear any movement inside.” When he put his hand on the doorknob, the door swung open as if an invisible being had opened it to invite the visitors inside. He removed the gun from his waist-band before stepping up into the trailer.

  Tad followed.

  On the other side of the threshold, they found a kitchen overflowing with dirty pots, pans, and dishes. The smell of rot-ting food assaulted their senses.

  Empty beer cans formed an aluminum pyramid on the kitchen table with pills in clear bags scattered around the base. A bag filled with white powder acted as the table’s centerpiece.

  Tad dipped a fingertip into the powder to taste it. “Cocaine. Good quality stuff, too.” He observed the size of the bag. “Must be at least one kilo here.” There was a box of small empty baggies and one baggie filled but not closed. “Looks like they were dividing it when they were interrupted.”

  His gun poised, Joshua stepped over the obstacle course of discarded clothes and plates of half-eaten food to the hallway leading back to the bedrooms. The door to the bedr
oom at the end of the hall was open.

  “I don’t think anyone is here,” he heard Tad yell from the kitchen.

  Joshua continued checking every bedroom to the back of the trailer. “Beth’s car is here, and that truck belongs to someone.”

  He saw something black wedged under the door like a small animal crushed under a plank. It was a leather-driving glove. He considered picking it up until he saw what appeared to be splotches of blood on it.

  “They must have gone somewhere,” Tad called to him.

  Joshua stepped into the master bedroom.

  A shock, not unlike that of a bucket of ice water being dumped over his head, raced through his body.

  It could have been Sarah’s room. Clothes cluttered the floor and the bed was unmade.

  A poster of Vicki’s idol hung over her bed. A muscular, half-naked, horned and fanged beast grinned with bloodlust at Joshua.

  It wasn’t until he stepped up to the bed that he discovered that the blood splattered on the poster was real.

  So was the body on the bed.

  Looking like the angel she wasn’t, she lay with her arms crossed over her chest. She was dressed in a black sleeveless shirt with no underwear or panties.

  In her undressed state, Joshua could see the tattooed serpent in all his glory. The snake was wrapped around Vicki’s right leg, up her hip, and across her stomach to her back. As Joshua stood over her, the tattoo seemed to come to life to strike at him in defense of the serpent’s lifeless hostess.

  A steel stake stood erect from the very center of the pentagram tattooed on her left breast.

  “Did you find—” Tad stopped speaking when he stepped into the bedroom and saw her. “Oh, Lord!” He rushed to the girl.

  “Don’t touch her!”

  The sight waiting for the doctor on the other side of the bed stopped him. He halted, immobile, unable to speak his horror.

  “What—” was all Joshua got out before Tad put his hands to his mouth, and ran out the back door in the hall.

  When he went around to the other side of the bed, Joshua could hear him vomiting outside.

  Beth’s body was sprawled on the floor next to the Vicki’s bed. The revolver was still clutched in her hand.

  Chapter Six

  As if the victims could escape, Joshua stood guard in the bedroom doorway to dial 911 on his cell phone. He was still on the phone with the emergency operator when a headlight beam shone through the window to bathe the room in light. After parking on the bare lawn, the van’s lights and engine were extinguished.

  Through the bathroom window, Joshua saw “Channel 6” emblazoned on the van’s side panel. Tess Bauer was climbing out of the passenger seat. “We have company,” he called out.

  “Damn!” Tad cursed when he saw Tess Bauer giving instructions to the camera operator. “Who invited her?”

  “You wait here.” Joshua raced to the front door to intercept them on the steps outside.

  “What are you doing here?” Joshua was further displeased to see the light on top of the camera glowing to signal that the operator was recording the encounter.

  “Amber told me that Vicki Rawlings had been murdered.” Tess attempted to push her way inside only to find that he blocked her entrance.

  “So you come rushing over here with a camera crew without calling the police?” While Joshua kept the journalist on the rickety front stoop, the camera operator balanced the camera hoisted with both hands up to eye-level while keeping his footing on the step below them.

  “I needed to check to see if it was true. It’d be very embarrassing if I had called in a false alarm to the police.”

  “Does that mean Amber has a history of lying?” He shifted to block the camera’s view into the trailer.

  Tess stuck the microphone into his face. “Well, since you won’t let us in, why don’t you tell us who you are? Do you work for the Rawlings?”

  “If I did, I wouldn’t be talking to you.”

  “Has Vicki Rawlings been murdered?”

  “You’ll get a statement from the police when they’re ready to release one.”

  The sheriff’s black and gold patrol car came up the drive-way. The blue lights on top of the cruiser lit up the dark enveloping the trailer’s yard.

  Sheriff Curtis Sawyer climbed out of the passenger side of the car. His deputy got out of the driver’s side.

  When Tess’s camera operator whirled around to record them making their way across the yard, Sheriff Sawyer barked,

  “Get that camera out of my face.” When the sheriff sprung threateningly in his direction, the camera operator jumped backwards and tripped over a rock, which caused him to perform a strange-looking dance while fighting to regain his balance without dropping the expensive piece of equipment. The jig ended with him plopping down onto his rump with the camera held high up in the air.

  The sheriff looked up at Joshua, who blocked his path through the door. “So you’re Joshua Thornton.”

  “It’s nice to finally meet you, too, sheriff.” He offered the county’s chief lawman his hand, which he clasped into a firm grip.

  “Sheriff Sawyer, is it true that Vicki Rawlings has been murdered?” Tess stuck her microphone into his face when he sidestepped her to investigate the crime scene.

  “I’ll tell you what I know after I know it and not a minute sooner.” Sheriff Sawyer stepped through the doorway while refusing entrance to the journalist. “What have we got here?”

  Joshua answered, “Two bodies back in the bedroom.”

  “Two bodies!” As the door swung shut, they both heard Tess drop the microphone with a loud clankity-clank onto the metal stoop.

  While slipping on a pair of evidence gloves, Sheriff Sawyer studied him. “What are you doing here?”

  Like his predecessor, Charles Delaney, Curt Sawyer came from a military background. It stuck more with Sawyer who, while short, was solid muscle. He stood straight with his shoulders back and his broad chest stuck out as if to show off the gold badge pinned on his navy blue sheriff’s uniform. Joshua was a head taller and in good shape, but he wouldn’t want to get into a boxing match with this man.

  Sheriff Sawyer noted the pills and cocaine on the table while Joshua told him, “Tad MacMillan asked me to come out here with him to look for Beth Davis. She ran away from the hospital this afternoon.”

  The sheriff motioned for him to lead the way to the murder victims.

  Joshua stopped at the bloody glove, already in a plastic evidence bag, which was still on the floor by the bedroom door. “I found this on my way in. When I saw there was blood on it, I left it there.”

  “Did you touch it?” Sheriff Sawyer squatted to study the glove.

  Joshua swore he saw a look of recognition. “No, I didn’t.”

  The sheriff was studying the carpet in the hallway.

  Joshua said, “Judging by those drag marks, I think Vicki Rawlings was knocked out and then dragged from the living room or kitchen into the bedroom where she was killed.”

  “Not bad, for a lawyer.” The sheriff stepped around him to enter the scene of the murders. “What made Davis collapse at the hearing?”

  Joshua followed him into the room where his deputy was photographing the scene from every angle possible.

  One of the medical examiner’s duties was to check the bodies at the crime scene before transporting them to East Liverpool Hospital for autopsies. Tad was in the process of bagging Beth’s hands in paper bags held in place with rubber bands to protect any evidence that might be on them when they came in.

  Joshua noticed that Tad’s gloved hands trembled while he worked on the body of the woman for whom they had both cared.

  “Mr. Thornton?” Curtis Sawyer snapped.

  Joshua started out of his thoughts. “Excuse me?�
��

  The sheriff repeated his question. “Why did Ms. Davis collapse?”

  “You’ll have to ask her doctor about that. I had to leave to go to a meeting.”

  As he studied the scene on the bed, Sheriff Sawyer stepped around Vicki’s body and knelt to examine Beth’s. “How long ago did this happen, Doc?”

  “Beth’s been dead two hours.” Tad stood up and nodded towards Vicki’s body. “She’s been dead four hours.”

  “You mean there’s two hours difference between their times of death?” Sheriff Sawyer looked from one body to the other.

  Joshua was also surprised. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would Beth wait two hours after killing Vicki before offing herself?”

  “Could you be wrong?” Sheriff Sawyer asked the medical examiner.

  “Not by two hours. They didn’t die at the same time.”

  Both Sheriff Sawyer and Joshua looked from one body to the other, then back again.

  “You know,” Joshua mumbled, “it doesn’t make sense for Beth to kill Vicki with a stake through the heart, then take out a gun, and shoot herself. I mean, if I was going to kill some-one, then kill myself, why not use the same weapon?”

  Sheriff Sawyer agreed. “Why not shoot Vicki Rawlings and then shoot herself? Why go to the trouble of bringing in a stake and driving it through her heart before blowing your brains out?” He turned his attention back to Tad. “Any sexual activity?”

  “No signs at all with Beth. Vicki’s not wearing any under-wear, but I don’t see any bruising on her inner thighs. You’ll have to wait for me to do the autopsy to find out for certain.”

  The sheriff removed the bag covering Beth’s hand with the gun still stuck in her hand. Her fingers clutched the gun in a death grip.

  Tad said, “Cadaver spasm. It happens when the brain shuts down instantly. I’ll have to break her fingers to get the weapon for you.”

  “Awfully big gun for such a little girl,” Sheriff Sawyer observed.

  Joshua studied the gun stuck in Beth’s hand. “Luger. Nine millimeter. Looks kind of old.”