“That sounds right,” Irma said.
Bud looked at Mallorie.
“Slim build, thin hair, glasses, and a mustache?” Mallorie asked.
“That’s him. Wait – is this the family that filed a complaint?” Irma asked.
Bud ignored her question and asked one of his own.
“When was the last time he visited?”
“A couple of days ago. He usually doesn’t stay long and Bertha usually starts getting – or got – agitated on the days he visits. Seems like she was worse this last time,” Irma said.
“How do you mean worse?” Bud asked.
“Talking out of her head – more than usual I mean. She’d say the craziest things,” the nurse said as her expression changed to a mixture of curiosity and sadness.
“Such as?” Bud asked.
“Just nonsense mostly. Things like ‘let me go back to the sacred chamber’ or ‘I still have the power.’ Then she would come out with a string of gibberish none of us could understand. Poor ol’ Bertha. Kept claiming she would get them back and help open a portal, whatever that meant,” Irma said.
“Get who back? And for what?” Bud asked.
“I don’t know. She never said who they were. I always guessed her family because she was never happy here – but not because of anybody here. She always got the best care,” the nurse quickly added.
“Did she ever mention a name?” Mallorie asked.
“A name? What’s that got to do with the care she got here?” Irma asked.
“Nothing. But it could help us if we were to broaden our investigation to cases of senior abuse by her family members,” Bud said.
The tall nurse eyed him and nodded.
“Yeah, she mentioned two names over and over. Edna and Marie, whoever they are. I always imagined they were her sisters or maybe daughters,” Irma said.
“When Mr. LaGrange visited a couple of days ago you said she was worse than usual,” Bud said.
“Well, she was actually laughing. She kept talking about the open portal and she couldn’t help them anymore. And then just as sudden she started crying and I mean uncontrollably. She kept saying, ‘They’re back, they’re back.’
Again, things that made sense only to her,” Irma said.
“She didn’t mention any names?” Bud asked.
“No. None at all. Other than talking about flowers, which was strange even for her outbursts. She’d never done that before,” the nurse said.
“Flowers?” Mallorie asked.
“Yeah, something about a special rose,” Irma said.
***
With Al back behind the wheel he and Jett got back on the interstate headed toward Crystal Springs. Neither spoke much during lunch other than small talk.
Jett broke the silence first.
“Too bad none of the girls could join us for lunch,” he said.
“Yeah. But maybe I’ll see them this weekend. Classes are almost over and they’ll moving back for the summer,” Al said.
“Hard to believe another school year has gone by,” Jett said idly.
“Listen man. I want to apologize for getting upset earlier. If the department would have done its job to begin with none of this would have happened,” Al said.
“No problem. We’re all on the same side. We just want to see the right thing done,” Jett said.
Al smiled.
“You’re right - we do. And there’ll be no mistakes made this time,” he said.
“So we’re good?” Jett asked.
“We’re good. I do have a request though. Can you wait until we actually make an arrest before you put anything in the paper? Even though nobody in the department was there when this took place,” he said as he patted the folder on the seat between them, “It still puts the department in a bad light. Maybe an arrest will make us look a little better.”
“You got it,” Jett said.
“This is going to destroy Bill Kantrell’s career at the very least. He’s looking at prison for his role in the cover up alone,” Al said.
Jett nodded silently.
“You think he killed her don’t you?” Al asked.
“From what I’ve learned especially in the last few days, yeah I think he did it. The first officer on the scene, doctored reports, I mean there’s some compelling evidence,” Jett said.
“I think he did it too but have you got a witness? DNA evidence? A confession? No, we don’t have enough to get him on a murder charge. Besides, what would’ve been his motive? All homicides have a motive,” Al said.
“We don’t have enough evidence yet. I’ve got confidence in you and your detectives,” Jett said with a grin.
Al chuckled.
“I appreciate that but keep in mind a lot of years have gone by and any evidence left has degraded not to mention material witnesses have died. I’ve got to be honest, a murder conviction will be tough.”
“Tough but not impossible,” Jett countered.
“You didn’t answer my question about motive. I know you, you have a theory,” Al said as he looked back toward the traffic in front of him.
“I do. I think he did it on the orders of a third party,” Jett said.
“Who’s the third party?” Al asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Jett lied. “A staged suicide isn’t really par for the course for a crime of passion or am I wrong about that?”
Al nodded.
“You’re right about that part. I don’t see this as a crime of passion either. As for your third party theory...it makes sense if we can track down a motive that someone else would have for wanting this woman dead,” he said.
“Well big guy that’s where you earn your pay,” Jett said.
Al chuckled again as he looked off to his right at a billboard.
“Cumberland Falls State Park. I haven’t been there in years. When the girls were little me and Jackie used to take the girls there when we’d visit her family in Crystal Springs,” he said.
“One thing about it: The Falls haven’t changed a bit,” Jett said.
“I guess not. I always loved it there. So peaceful and beautiful,” Al said.
“Rose and I used to go on picnics there when we were in college. At one time or another, we hiked every trail in the park,” Jett remembered.
Al’s voice changed into a somber tone as did his face.
“I know you lost Rose but you still have those two boys,” he said.
“Yeah, and that’s been a blessing,” Jett said.
“You still love her after all these years – that I understand,” Al said.
Al looked as though he had been struck by a sudden inspiration.
“You in a real big hurry to get back to town?” He asked.
Jett looked at him curiously.
“I am kind of eager to get those files locked up in a safe place,” he said.
“So do I but I’d like to make a quick detour. I’d like to see the Falls while we’re out this way. C’mon. It’ll only take a couple of minutes,” Al said.
“I’d really rather get back to the office,” Jett said.
“A few minutes out of the way won’t hurt anything. This has been closed for decades. A few more minutes won’t matter,” Al argued.
Again, Jett eyed him curiously. His insistence on making the stop was so out of character. Al was usually the voice of reason.
“Maybe we ought to get back to Crystal Springs and finish the task at hand before we make any other stops,” Jett said.
“Don’t be a spoilsport,” Al said in mock disgust. “It’s the Falls. We drop by, enjoy the view for a couple of minutes, and hightail it back to town like a couple of sophomores trying get back for a game night curfew. When was the last time you did something spontaneous?”
“You really want to do this?” Jett asked incredulously.
“C’mon. What do you say?” Al asked with a hopeful grin.
Jett exhaled and shook his head.
“Okay. Let’s get it out of your sy
stem so we can get back to town,” he said.
***
Bud and Mallorie sat in the nearly bare but polished visiting area at the Perkins Correctional Facility just outside of Corbin.
Each sat with their arms propped upon the stainless steel counter watching through the security glass. They saw a large prison guard who stood roughly 6’4 and weighed just north of 250 pounds as he escorted a frail looking man who shuffled along and although his legs were not shackled, he still exuded arrogance.
Bald on the crown of his head, the man had unruly gray hair with a scraggly matching goatee. He wore wire rimmed glasses and an orange jumpsuit.
He squinted and then grinned as looked through the glass at Bud.
Reaching up for the black telephone Bud noticed the old man leering at Mallorie with a lopsided grin.
He reached up and took the phone and spoke.
“Bud! It’s been a while. You’re looking well – a little older than the last time I saw you, but not bad at all,” he said.
Mallorie noticed that she could hear him through the glass even without the aid of a phone.
“I can’t say the same for you Malone,” Bud said dryly.
“That’s Dr. Malone,” he said coolly and turned his attention toward Mallorie. “What brings you out to visit on this fine spring day? I must say I’m pleasantly surprised at this break in the daily monotony that is my life.”
“I know about the drugs you supplied to kill Marie,” Bud said.
Malone’s eyes shifted toward Bud then smugly refocused on Mallorie.
“Tell me Bud, who is this lovely creature?” He asked, ignoring Bud’s question.
Before Bud could answer, Mallorie stared deeply into Malone’s hazel eyes. A second later those eyes widened and Bud saw the arrogance replaced by fear.
Sweat beaded on Malone’s forehead.
“Y-you...you’re one of...I’m...I haven’t talked I swear – not to anyone. Please tell Edna. I haven’t said a word,” Malone whispered hoarsely.
“You haven’t yet. But you’re getting ready to,” Bud said.
Malone tore away from Mallorie’s gaze and stared blankly at Bud.
“I know about the drugs. Who ordered it and who helped?” Bud asked. Before a dazed Malone could answer, Bud spoke again. “And after you tell me everything you know about Marie’s murder, you’re going to tell me how you helped kill my niece.”
Malone looked at him blankly.
“Your niece? I don’t understand,” He said in surprise.
“Her name was Rose Bradley. And I assure you, you will talk to us – about everything,” Mallorie said, her eyes ablaze with rage.
Malone fidgeted nervously.
“You...you can’t touch me in here,” he said anxiously.
Mallorie tilted her head slightly as her eyes narrowed.
“Do you really believe that?” She asked.
“Who are you?” Malone asked.
“I’m sorry. Where are my manners? Fraser Malone, I’d like to introduce you to Mallorie Afton Clark – Marie’s daughter,” Bud said as Malone slumped in his chair.
Chapter Eighteen
Jett and Al strolled through the parking lot making their way to the Cumberland Falls overlook.
“It’s as beautiful as ever,” Al said wide-eyed.
“Yeah, nature’s finest. Let’s take a look and get back on the road,” Jett said. He had a nagging feeling something was more out of place than Al suddenly turning into a nature lover.
Al’s steps speeded up the closer they got to the overlook. Jett had to quicken his pace to just short of a run to keep up with him.
“I’ve got to tell you man, this is a little weird and trust me, I have a better understanding of that word than most people,” Jett said.
“I know it seems that way but...I just have to see it. I don’t know why. I just have to,” Al said as he continued on.
Jett followed him, his mind racing as to what was going on – which he was now certain was more than just an ill-timed sightseeing stop.
As they crossed the uneven surface of the water-scarred rock on their way the wooden fence that lined the overlook, Jett noticed Al slowing down. The big man relaxed and breathed deeply as he looked out over the fence to the rushing water of the Cumberland River.
Jett looked at his friend and then nervously in each direction. “Feel better now?” He asked.
Al nodded.
“You know, I grew fishing in this river - up in Harlan County. The smell, the mud –it takes me back,” he said with a distant smile.
“Me too. My high school was built right on the banks of the river. Our football field flooded at least once a year,” Jett said.
Al turned suddenly.
“When was the last time you climbed Rebel Rock?” He asked.
“What? No, we don’t have time for that. Let’s get going,” Jett said impatiently.
Climbing Rebel Rock, a limestone boulder roughly 30 feet high with a Confederate battle flag painted on top, was a rite of passage for freshmen football players at SKU.
“You know where it is. Remember when we were freshmen? Me and you and J.D. got drunk and climbed it. You were wearing cowboy boots and J.D. wore flip-flops. I don’t which impressed me more,” Al said as if he was lost deep in thought.
“Let’s get to the SUV. We can reminisce on the road,” Jett said taking his friend’s right arm. Al pulled away.
“It’s down the main trail and then the second path to the left,” he said as he started toward the main trail.
“What’re you doing?” Jett asked.
Al kept walking and increasing his speed. He looked back over his shoulder.
“Sorry man. I have to do this,” he huffed.
Jett scrambled after him.
“What do you have to do?” He yelled as he fought to gain ground on his fleeing friend.
“Climb Rebel Rock!” Al answered.
“Are you insane?” Jett yelled as Al started down the trail.
***
Malone looked down and took short breaths.
“You have her? Why are you asking me questions?” He asked.
“We need a witness – someone to testify,” Bud said.
“Testify?” Malone scoffed. “Testify against Edna? You’ve lost your mind.”
“No. You’ve lost your...power. As long as you were with my grandmother you had the gift. You could inflict pain or take it away at a whim. But when you got in trouble, she abandoned you and you landed here, in your own special hell,” Mallorie said as Malone looked at her in near disbelief.
“And in here you’re not even a bad doctor. You’re just another insignificant number - not even a human being,” Bud goaded.
Malone sneered at him.
“Nice of you to gloat. You’ll get nothing from me. I shouldn’t have talked Edna out of killing you too.”
“You’ll talk alright. You’ll do whatever I want. You see, I’m not like my grandmother. My gift is natural. It’s not borrowed from a dark place,” Mallorie said.
Malone paled and merely nodded and again spoke barely above a whisper.
“Like your mother.”
Bud looked at Mallorie and then back to Malone.
“And you should know something else: Marie’s back and she’s pissed to say the least,” Bud said as Malone turned pale and started wheezing.
“You see I am her – I believe the term you’re familiar with is channel – to this side. And unless you want a visit from her tonight, I suggest you answer every question we ask. Otherwise...,” Mallorie’s voice trailed off.
“Listen, all I did was come up with a cocktail of drugs that would make it look like an overdose. I didn’t even inject her. Edna...she said it had to be done. She said if Marie died we could share the gift that she had,” Malone said.
“And did you share the gift?” Bud asked.
“If I did do you think I’d be here?” Malone asked bitterly.
“So that’s why she did it. T
o gain more power,” Mallorie said.
“And she was jealous. Very jealous. She resented Marie having such power naturally while she had to work so hard for it. Edna spent years trying to find a way to tap into that power. And then Lee came along. He threatened to take her far away and keep her from her family,” Malone said.
Bud and Mallorie looked at him.
“It was no accident. Edna arranged his death. She even arranged...his eternity,” Malone said.
“Explain,” Bud said.
“She knew his...spiritual condition shall we say. And she wanted to act before anything could be done to keep him out of hell. She wanted to make sure he couldn’t come back,” Malone said.
“She had my father killed too,” Mallorie said, seething with rage.
Bud dropped his left arm from the counter and reached over to take Mallorie’s hand. He looked to her and saw the tears of anger welling in her eyes before turning back to Malone.
“How did she arrange for Lee to die? He was under the influence when he crashed his jet ski,” Bud said.
“It’s a little trick she has. From her special room, she can control the mind of some people for a limited amount of time – provided they’re not protected by someone like her,” Malone said pointing to Mallorie. “Or unless they are someone like her.”
“So Lee wasn’t high when he was killed?” Bud asked.
“Oh I’m sure he was plenty high. He liked to enjoy himself. His problem was that it left him susceptible to Edna’s...suggestions,” Malone continued with a distant look. “She used to brag about clouding his mind right up until a split second before impact. She quite enjoyed telling that story over and over.”
Bud looked to Mallorie who had tears rolling down her cheeks.
“And my niece Rose. How did she do that?”
“Ah, that was where she needed me. Through a friend in Lexington I managed to access her medical records,” Malone paused and again fidgeted nervously. “Edna wanted to find a weak spot, a place to plant an illness. Because of the stress of childbirth with twins and post-labor complications...Edna liked the idea that the very part of her body that gave life would cause her death. Edna hated her.”
Bud clinched his fists and his jaw tightened. He began to think that maybe it was wrong not to include Jett on” the prison visit. While he tried to calm down enough to ask his next question Mallorie spoke up.
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