The Hunt Chronicles: Volume 1

by Leo Bonanno

  “Has anyone seen my paring knife?” She called out, trying to stifle her own sobs. Neither Maddie nor I answered.

  “Well now what, Reevan?”

  “I just don’t know Maddie. I’m all out of ideas.”

  “I said has anyone seen my paring knife?”

  “But you always know what to do, Reevan. Think of something.”

  “I don’t know, Maddie. Maybe Donald did kill his father.”

  “How can you say that, Reevan? You’ve known the boy for years.”

  “He’s not a boy anymore, Maddie. He’s a man, and he’s responsible for his act-”

  “Has anyone seen my paring knife?” Nona was screaming at us as she leaned through the serving window. Maddie’s mouth drooped to a stone frown. She got up and slowly turned toward Nona. I followed her into the kitchen, the whole time wondering if I’d have to pull my sister’s hands off from around the chubby cook’s neck. Nona was backing out of the window and across the kitchen as Maddie drew near. There were fresh tears dripping down the sides of her face. I stopped at the doorway, not wanting to get splattered with blood should my sister punch her lights out. Nona finally backed against the counter next to the fridge. Nowhere to go, little piggy. She was trapped. Maddie reached out a hand.

  Nona stepped out of the way as Maddie grabbed the refrigerator door handle. Maddie pulled open the fridge, bent over, and rummaged around inside. She pulled out a plate holding with pieces of sliced fruit. Underneath the plastic wrap was sliced strawberries, cantaloupe, watermelon, and one paring knife. Maddie pulled it out and handed it to Nona forcefully. “It was right there, where you always leave it.” With that, she turned and walked past me, resuming her spot at the table. My heart was racing. Nona’s face was red. She looked up at me, embarrassed. I shrugged and smiled.

  “What do ya know?” She said with a quivering voice. “If it had been a snake, it would’ve bit me.” She said with an awkward chuckle. The next thing I heard was “Reevan, what’s wrong? What’s wrong? Maddie!” Nona rushed towards me. She shook me with all of her bovine might. “Are you all right?” Maddie rushed towards me.

  “Reevan? Talk to us, Reevan? What’s wrong?” But I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. My head was spinning. A floodgate had opened and my brain began hemorrhaging memories all thanks to poisoning, food poisoning, chubby neck, if it was a snake, eavesdropping, all my business, fuel him up, damn angry, under the nails, skull in showroom condition, Chiclets™, county coroner, foghorn, flip the bird, hemorrhaging around the eyes, money for the restaurant, golly, deductive reasoning, Thomas Freely, on the walls, liar liar, heard Donald come home, under the nails, robbery, crystal clock, wet spot, how dare you, jelly, eavesdropping runs in the family, not now Nona, only Maddie had the guts to give it back to him, The Rust Bucket, dad owned all of us, Nona Bronson, Yosemite, Grandpa’s Cough Medicine, food poisoning, 12:59, we’d rather not let McCune out of our sight, wet spot, watch, Warner Brothers, fingernails, if it was a snake, Chiclets™, liar liar, black hole, Gus’ birthday, exact words, showroom condition, I don’t know Maddie, wet footprints on the floor behind him, if it was a snake, I don’t know, I don’t know, I…don’t…know…

  “I got it.” I blurted out so suddenly both women took a step back. “I know who killed Wilson McCune.”

  A knock at the door. It was nearly eight p.m. I spent a few hours that day just sitting in my room with a pad and pencil, determined not to come out until I had it all figured out. When I was finished, I had Maddie call Detective Walters. He finally arrived, and when Maddie opened the door for him, he was wearing a grin. Maddie offered him entry and he took it. Maddie was about to shut the door when she noticed little Detective Sills had tagged along, overshadowed by his big ox partner as usual. He followed in toe, and the heavy front door shut ominously behind them.

  By then, Cheryl and Thomas were back, leaving Donald with the family lawyer as I had instructed. Richard had come out of his room some time ago. I called out to him and he stuck his head out of the kitchen and into the hall that led to the foyer. “What are they doing here?”

  “Relax, Richard,” Maddie said calmly. She walked over to him and put an arm around his shoulder. She guided him into the dining room where the rest of us were waiting. We all sat, completely aware of the awkwardness the detectives seemed to bring to every event to which they were invited. “Reevan has something he would like to say to everyone.”

  “I’m afraid it’ll do ya no good, Hunt,” Walters said, his smile growing. I smiled back.

  “Why is that?”

  “ ‘Cause your boy confessed before we left the station.” Nona let loose a sickly moan, as if someone had just stabbed her instead of her employer. Maddie and Cheryl followed suit.

  “Confessed to what, exactly?” I asked, cool as a cucumber. In fact, what Walters was about to say would prove to help me greatly.

  “Confessed to stabbing his pop,” Walters said curtly. “Confessed to the whole damn thing. He said he came home last night drop dead drunk. Said his sister caught him stumbling around and tried to sober him up and put him to bed. After she left, he got up to use the john, but he never went back to his room last night.”

  “Dear God,” Thomas whispered. He had been sitting, but then he stood up and backed into the far corner of the room. Nona turned to look into the chair next to her, discovered it was empty, and sprung to her feet to console him. Walters’ cocky smile was the only one in a room suddenly filled with dread, and it pissed me off.

  Thomas the giraffe and Nona the hippo were cowering in the corner, useless as usual. Maddie had her face in her hands. Richard nodded back and forth faster and faster as if doing so would make it all go away. Cheryl was staring into her own lap, tears cascading down her cheeks and chin. Detective Sills merely sat, hands in his lap, eyes on the table. He didn’t seem to be enjoying the show nearly as much as his employer. The room filled with an air of defeat, of hopelessness, of despair and failure. It seemed to be coming out of everyone…well, except me.

  I sat in my chair gazing around the room, smiling. Oh look, Maddie is crying. Still smiling. Oh dear, the tall one and the fat one are sobbing. Still smiling. The McCune heirs look like the world has just been pulled out from under them. Still smiling. “What are you so damn happy about, Hunt?” A voice barked at me.

  “I’m glad you asked.”

  “Oh Reevan, how could you say that?” Maddie hollered. My right eardrum had blown out. I was sure of it.

  “Because it’s true,” I answered calmly, “and Walters here is right. Donald did stab his father in bed. It’s a fact. There’s no denying it.”

  “Well then why am I here?” Walters asked. “If we agree that Donald killed his pop, why did you insist on meeting again?”

  “Oh, but we don’t agree Detective. I said Donald McCune stabbed his father, which he did. He didn’t kill him, though; you’re mistaken about that.” Now Walters got up and rushed around the table. His grin disappeared quickly; replaced by a long somber frown.

  “You wanna run that by me again, pal?”

  “I said Donald McCune did not kill his father.” Slowly, very slowly, the veil of misery lifted off the others around the table. Nona and Thomas left their protective corner and ventured back towards their seats. Maddie’s eyes had reappeared from behind her wrinkled hands. Richard and Cheryl looked at each other and then at me. I think they all thought I was cracking wise. Even Sills seemed shocked beyond belief. In some of those faces I saw a brief glimmer of hope. In others was the blackness that accompanies unbridled rage.

  “What are you talking about? He confessed over an hour ago. What proof do you have that he’s innocent? He had a motive, the opportunity and the means to do it all. What the hell are you trying to pull?” The tone coming from Sills was surprising, but in truth I preferred it to the good ole boy conversational skills of his partner.

  “Well, let’s examine all of those things.” I said standing and walking around the table with my hands behin
d my back. It felt very natural, very Zen. Plus, I think it made me look casual, like I knew what the hell I was doing, which in fact I did not. “The motive,” I began. “I suppose you think that Donald’s reason for killing Wilson was monetary? His inheritance, right?”

  “Yeah, so?” Sills blurted out like a cranky teenager. “We know about his failing restaurant and his heavy bar tab. Judging by the description you gave us about the argument with his father, it’s obvious they didn’t say goodbye on good terms. Money is the number one reason for family spats, Mr. Hunt. Frankly, I don’t see why you’re wasting our time with this.”

  “Because that motive for murder can be applied to most of the people in this room. Obviously his two other children could have used their inheritance’s as well. And with him gone, Cheryl will be free to marry Lewis Norville, a man her father would not even allow her to think about in his presence. All of Richard’s accounting business is in this town and his father pulled all of the strings. One wrong pluck and Richard would be out on the street. That’s enough to get you thinking about murder, isn’t it Walters?”

  “Reevan, what are you saying?” Maddie asked.

  “How could you say that?” Richard screamed, sounding hurt. “You know I’d never-” But I cut him off.

  “Richard, I’m trying to make it clear to these two that Donald’s motive isn’t all that much. My own sister was in Wilson’s will by now, no doubt. She could have done it as well, and with the same motive in mind.”

  “That’s true!” Nona shouted.

  “Oh go to hell, Nona!” Maddie spat back.

  “But it is true,” I said, looking at her from across the table, “and let’s not forget your motive, Nona.” Thomas dived in front of Nona as if protecting her from a bullet only he could see.

  “She had no motive. Without him, we’d both be out of jobs, and homes!” He insisted.

  “I’m almost positive that’s an exaggeration. I called up the Wellington Courthouse this afternoon and discovered something I had been suspecting from the minute I arrived.” They both shot daggers at Maddie.

  “I didn’t tell him, I swear!” She wailed.

  “Tell him what?” Walters asked.

  “No, Maddie didn’t tell me anything though I did confront her about your little secret. I’m afraid Thomas gave it away last night while I was standing by Wilson’s door listening to his argument with his daughter. He told me that I was being nosey, and that ‘eavesdropping runs in the family.’ Naturally, I turned to my tightlipped sister. She didn’t talk, but it was only a matter of time before it got out. You couldn’t hide it forever. You always knew that didn’t you, Mrs. Freely?” Nona backed away as her jaw hit the floor. Sills had pulled out his little pad during my proclamation. He was now standing up and pointing to it.

  “You mean Bronson, don’t you?” Sills said, panicking at the very idea that something in his little pad could have been wrong. “Nona Bronson.”

  “No I don’t!” I shouted. “Her maiden name is Bronson, her married name is Freely. As in Mrs. Thomas Freely.”

  “How did you find out?” Maddie asked, a small smile of pride appearing at the corners of her mouth.

  “They gave it away themselves, I’m afraid; the way they hold each other, and scold each other, and console each other. Just watching them gave me a hint, and I assume that you must have overheard them speaking about it at one point or another since this house does a poor job at keeping secrets. You promised not to tell and you kept your promise. I called the courthouse, asked a few questions, and the public records told me everything.” They all looked at me, stunned.

  “It’s true. We are married,” Nona finally said. “It was only a matter of time. We’ve been together so long. But that doesn’t mean either of us killed Wilson. We love each other, and that’s all. It had nothing to do with Wilson.”

  “But it did!” Cheryl’s shrill voice sliced through the air, startling us all. “It did. Father told me all about you two.” The couples’ eyes grew wide with terror. “He forbid those two from getting married in the first place. He said he noticed them growing closer and planned to put a stop to it. He threatened to fire you both if you didn’t get off each other and focus on your work. ‘Love leads to laziness,’ he said. ‘You let ‘em fall in love, soon enough, you’ll hear them hitting the headboards in every room.’ That’s what he said, and he told you both to knock it off but you didn’t. You kept growing closer and closer and when he told Thomas he was fired last night when you went in with his pill, Thomas killed him to protect himself and his new wife!”

  “That’s not true!” Thomas shouted. “He did forbid it and he did threaten us, but I didn’t kill him and neither did Nona. We were almost ready to leave anyway. We put our savings together when we got married. We have enough for a place of our own now. We had no reason to kill him. We were planning to leave!”

  “I bet you were,” I said. “But leaving would have been a little easier with a bit more green in your wallet, right? As with Maddie, you two are undoubtedly in the will somewhere.” Nona looked at me while Thomas stared down Cheryl, who did not falter. I had accidentally started something then. I had to wrap it up fast before someone else ended up dead. “But I digress.” “Let’s move on to Donald’s opportunity for murder. News flash, Chief; we all had that opportunity. Night time in this massive house while everyone else is asleep. Do you really think Donald was the only one who could have done this?”

  “But your sister said she had been under medication and didn’t get out of bed, and-”

  “And nothing, Walters! Maddie lied to you. She did get up to go to the bathroom. Richard was already up by then and helped her down the stairs, wet feet and all!” Richard’s eyes shifted quickly around the room. “Either one of them could have waited for the other to go back to his or her room and then kill Wilson.” I was expecting Maddie to punch me, but she didn’t. I sensed she knew where I was going and I hoped she knew that I was grateful.

  “Cheryl was up for a short time making a sandwich before I got up. She could have done it then. We left Nona in the kitchen, alone. There’s some more of your precious opportunity. Thomas was God knows where but he probably didn’t stay in bed all night after his wife got up. Either way, it’s irrelevant. Your opportunity holds even less water than your motives, Walters. I don’t even have to go into the means, do I? I’ve already told you Donald did stab his father, but I say again that didn’t kill him.” Once again, they all had a flashed facial expression of confusion.

  “Holy hell,” Walters muttered, finally catching on.

  “What? What is it? Is he right?” Sills asked.

  “Yeah, he is.” Walters said, staring at me as his eyes turned to slits.

  “Right about what?” Richard bawled.

  “Donald McCune did stab your father,” Walters answered, “but he didn’t kill him.”

  “What is this, some kind of game? A goddamn brainteaser?” Cheryl exploded.

  “Donald stabbed Wilson but didn’t kill him because…because” Walters was down and out. He was too overwhelmed to finish his own sentence. His brain seemed to shut down and reboot like a fried computer. I finished his sentence for him.

  “Because,” I added, “when Donald stabbed Wilson, he was already dead.”

  Then we were all on our feet, though some of them had backed out into the foyer either out of shock, fear or confusion. I eventually found my way to the foyer too, and the stragglers followed me as I laid the mystery to rest.

  “I called the coroner this afternoon. He gave me some very interesting information.”

  “Why would he give you information, Hunt?” Walters said, strolling towards me with his hands in his pockets. “You don’t have any weight in an official investigation?”

  “That’s true,” I replied, “but you have more than enough weight to go around.” His eyes widened and his lips pulled back, exposing his teeth. Bullseye Little Reevan shouted.

  “Well?” Cheryl spoke up, “What did
he tell you?”

  “He told me that while Wilson’s body was examined, it was discovered that he suffered hemorrhages around his eyes. I’m surprised Walters didn’t put it together sooner, frankly.” Sills came up to Walters’ side and looked up at him.

  “You mean you knew about that?”

  “Yes,” he said, “but I didn’t think it amounted to a hill of beans until now. No one did. For god sake the man still had a blade sticking out of his chest when we found him.”

  “Reevan, what do hemorrhages around the eyes mean?” Maddie questioned, grabbing me on the shoulder.

  “Hemorrhages usually appear when a victim has been suffocated to death.” Richard’s mouth gaped open. “It matches up with what I noticed earlier, when I got a look at Wilson’s body.”

  “When the hell did you see his body?” Walter growled, and I remembered that I should have never crossed the yellow tape into his Wilson’s bedroom to begin with. I pressed on, steamrolling over his question in hopes that he would soon forget it.

  “Wilson’s body and bed,” I continued, “were stained with blood, but not very much. At first, I thought it had something to do with blood clotting, and I was close. Someone suffocated Wilson to death and left him in bed. Donald went in afterward and stabbed him, but by then the body’s mechanisms had shut down. Wilson’s heart was pumping blood anymore. He bled, but not nearly as much as a living man would’ve bled. Get it now? Donald didn’t do anything more than stab a dead body.”

  “Oh, he only stabbed a dead body?” Cheryl shouted. “Like it’s no big deal?”

  “Someone else murdered your father,” I said. “Someone who’s right here, right now.” The others began making quick glances at each other. I saw Walters look at Sills, then back at me. The room was so quiet you could practically hear eyelids blinking furiously, hear the breathing around the room quicken, hear the eyes slosh back and forth in their sockets.