“Yes, and he had some interesting conclusions to share with me about Trent Newman.”
“Why, what’d he say?”
“He thinks we can use more than the prints to prove that Trent Newman and the other man are one and the same…the timeline. The guy dies suspiciously and then all of a sudden Trent appears.”
“Did Clark talk to the man’s wife yet?”
“No, that’s the ‘interesting part’,” Chief paused as George stared at him, “The wife disappeared right after she declared him dead. No one’s seen her, knows where she is, and it’s like she vanished off the face of the earth.”
The two men stood facing each other, heads down.
Finally Marvin spoke up, “I suggested he work backwards on the dead guy and see what he can come up with there. Maybe there’ll be other indications in his past that he was leading more than one life.”
“Good idea.”
Sighing, “Yeah but I hope he can tell us more than just that he had a penchant for taking on different identities and killing.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m hoping he can find something that will tell us how Claire Dungarven fits into his past.”
* * * * *
Claire stirred in her sleep as images swiftly flitted across her dreams, like a fast-moving, brightly-colored kaleidoscope. She saw Libby; she was dressed all in white; the snowy background made it hard to distinguish her small, fragile frame from the bare trees which provided the only other details that stood out in her dream.
Then, bright crimson blood drops started dripping from her fingers. They stained the snow as quickly as they fell, forming clots of red, growing larger and larger, mixing with the snow, diluting, until becoming a shimmery liquid pool. Claire squirmed at the vision, uncomfortable with what it symbolized, because she realized that she was looking at Libby’s burial site.
Her movements in bed became more restless as the fluid started to bubble up, turning the white surrounding snow into the same vibrant red liquid, oozing from the ground, growing, conquering the beautiful white winter wonderland until all that was left was ugly and foreboding.
Libby put her hands together in the same gesture she had shown Claire before, Help. She repeated the gesture and pointed to her chest, signing Help me. Standing in the middle of the rusty red muck, she started to sink. Quicksand-like in texture, it was consuming her at a frightening pace.
Helplessly, Claire watched as the rose tattoo on Libby’s ankle disappeared in the abyss first. She let out a small, almost silent cry as Libby’s legs vanished in the liquid, then her hips, as the onslaught continued, marching up to engulf her torso, her neck, and finally her face. Horrified, Claire let out a series of soft mewing sounds, kicking at her covers as the scarlet mud devoured Libby, but not before capturing the absolutely terrifying panic in her eyes. It was a look that would haunt Claire for the rest of her life.
* * * * *
The investigation into the death of Art Cane at the Landry Trucking Company office lasted until the first rays of sunrise could be seen hovering over the horizon, ready to announce the beginning of another day in all its blazing glory. Due to the warming temperature, fog was projected to hang around until midmorning and this would stunt the impact of the always beautiful sunrise. In time, it promised to dissipate and let the sun have its day.
The anticipated warm weather that the forecasters had predicted earlier in the week was finally arriving. It prefaced a melting of the ice and snow cover that had hung around the vicinity for the last few days.
People living in southern Indiana were pleased to see this much-needed break in the temperature. Roads were still covered with dangerous patches of ice that had left well-worn ruts, difficult to transverse, often ending in tracks that foretold of slide-offs on the sides of the roads.
Marvin Hennessey looked up at the morning sky and heaved a sigh of relief, maybe by the time I wake up this afternoon, I can look forward to walking down to get the mail without the fear of falling on the ice! He could only hope that Mary would feel sorry for him and let him sleep that long. If not, it’ll be a long day.
He tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn and thought, I should probably check in at the office first and see if Clark left anything for me.
The second time it happened, he couldn’t stop the yawn. I’m not as young as I used to be. These all-nighters take their toll on me now.
He smiled at a thought, I’m supposed to be retired and yet still worried about how I’m going solve this crime!
He got in the patrol car and felt the weariness overtake him. But, if I’m going to be involved in the case, I need to go home and get some sleep…or I won’t be worth much to anybody!
He started the car. Plus, I owe it to Mary to go home and explain what’s happening. She’s probably sitting at the kitchen table right now, sipping her coffee…and stewing! He chuckled at the picture that his mind’s eye conjured up for him. Nope, she won’t be happy.
He knew that there was something else tugging at the perimeter of his brain, but exhaustion was keeping it a secret, and as the tiredness invaded his body at break-neck speed, he couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was.
I’ll remember this afternoon…nothing is too important that it can’t wait a half-day longer.
Chapter Twenty-four
Pacing around the kitchen, Claire tried to keep busy by continuing to put items away that were strewn all over the countertops. Boy, whoever did this sure made a mess! I’m going to be busy cleaning up for while.
She stopped, holding a washcloth in midair, and focused on the disturbing dream she had had. Libby’s waiting for us to come and find her…and I’m worried about putting things away!
She turned and walked down the hall towards the bedrooms. Standing in front of the room Jim was in, she pushed the door open quietly and looked in. He was sleeping peacefully and she was grateful for that. He needs his sleep. Better leave him alone.
Claire gently closed the door and stood there for a few more seconds, conflicted about what to do next. She felt an urgency to go out to Pine Lake but knew that Jim wanted to come with her.
He made me promise…but I knew last night that it would be difficult to keep a promise. She bowed her head. I just don’t know what to do. Should I wait for him to wake up, should I wake him up, or should I go by myself?
She turned and headed back down the hall.
In the kitchen Claire recalled the ghastly dream and how it had awakened her at the ungodly hour of 5:00 a.m. It was so real!
Recalling how terrified Libby looked, Claire tried to fight off the tears, but they started to spill from her eyes, and she swiped at them before they threatened to run down her cheeks. That young woman deserves some peace! We need to find her body!
She headed towards her bedroom to make the bed. Claire wanted to be ready to leave as soon as Jim woke up.
Hurriedly pulling up the covers and placing the pillows on the bed, she had time to think about the urgency of the situation. I can’t wait for Jim! I need to get out there NOW!
She went into the bathroom to brush her hair…and stopped while holding the brush mid-air. I have to handle this without Jim.
She winced at the thought of how angry he would be.
But, he’ll just have to be mad because, I’m not going to wake him up!
In the spare bedroom Jim slept, unaware of what Claire was thinking at that moment. If he had been aware of the conflict going on in her head, he would have immediately jumped out of bed and joined her in the search for Libby’s grave. But, Claire made a decision to let him sleep…and it was one that could cost her her life.
* * * * *
When Marvin Hennessey arrived home that morning, Mary was waiting for him. She had been married to him for 37 years and she understood a life spent in law enforcement. She didn’t ask any questions but let him unwind, fed him breakfast, and watched as he headed towards the bedroom to catch a well-deserved nap. She knew he would probabl
y be up before he had a full eight hours of sleep, but she didn’t remind him of that; she just gave him a kiss and sent him on his way.
But she did intend to protect him…as she had so many times in the past. If anyone called and needed to speak to him before he was up, she would politely but firmly tell them to call back or she would take a message for him and he could call that person later. She didn’t sway on that point. He was her man and she would run interference for him! That was the way it had been all these years, and that would be the way she would handle it this time. After all, she reasoned, he’s retired.
He’s retired? Yeah, right…I’ll believe that when we’ve had a few weeks of no business phone calls, no unexpected trips to the office, just blissful and uneventful boredom!
She almost laughed out loud at that thought though. She wasn’t being sarcastic, only realistic. It will be hard for Marvin…being ‘retired’… but we’ll give it our best shot.
* * * * *
At the State Police post, Clark Tomlinson was pouring over the computer, trying to make sense of the information he was reading. This man is an enigma! He was a loner…and that fits with Trent Newman’s profile. He lived in Brown County, in fact he lived in Sweetwater. Hmmm. Wonder if he knew Claire from there? Then he remembered, No, she didn’t move down there until recently.
Clark continued to study the facts he had from both crime files and suddenly his eyes lit on one fact that had eluded them before. Bingo! They both worked as truckers. Now we’re getting somewhere. This is too coincidental for it not to have a bearing on the cases. Hmmm. This guy worked for a company out of Tennessee.
Picking up the phone, he decided to call there first. It was still early in the morning but fortunately he finally got through to the personnel director…and what he told Trooper Tomlinson was very interesting. Clark followed it up with a call to Landry’s main office. It suggested some intriguing new possibilities.
He had to get in touch with Chief Hennessey right away. He picked up the phone again and dialed his cell phone. I’ll leave a message for him if he doesn’t pick up right away. I’m pretty sure he’s out at the scene. I know the others are still there. But, if I don’t hear from him soon, I’ll call his home.
Clark waited until he heard Chief’s voice mail come on; he left a message and hung up. Looking at the clock he realized that his shift was almost over and decided to leave a message for George Stanley so that he could be filled in too. I know he’ll stop in before going home. I’m sure there will be evidence that he needs to drop off since he is the lead investigator on the murder investigation. That way if Chief doesn’t call back in the next fifteen minutes, when I go home, George can see my message and let Chief know too.
His shift ended and Clark Tomlinson left for home. The message he left for George contained the interesting new information. When Officer Stanley returned from the trucking company office, he would be astonished at what it told him and the conclusion Claire came to.
I’VE FOUND THE LINK!
* * * * *
Jim Hoppes woke up around noon. Still groggy from sleep and feeling the effects of several broken ribs and twelve stitches in his head, it took him a while to realize where he was and whose bed he was sleeping in. Even through the pain he smiled at the thought and lay there for a few more minutes, relishing in the fact that he was so fortunate to have someone like Claire in his life right now.
More out of sorrow and not pain, he winced when he remembered back to the last time he felt such happiness. He was newly graduated from the Police Academy and engaged to Marty. She had been the love of his life since high school. They planned to wed and settle down after he got a job. Tragically he would not feel the euphoria of marrying his first love…and would not feel the same kind of love for another female until he met Claire again.
Marty had been going through her training to become a member of the Fire Department in Darwin Township in Indianapolis at the same time Jim was completing his training at the Police Academy. She graduated and started working at almost the same time Jim got a job with Lakeland Township on the west side of Indianapolis. Only two weeks on the job, she was walking across the street, returning to the fire station with lunch from a nearby restaurant, when a car came out of nowhere and hit her, knocking her onto the hood and into the street.
By the time Jim arrived at the hospital, Marty was already in surgery. She had a blood clot on the brain that was causing her brain to swell. The surgery was a success but she was in a coma and remained in a coma for the rest of her time on earth. Two months later she died and Jim had been grief-stricken ever since. He never remarried and had little interest in dating other women even though he tried.
Plenty of women were interested, but it just didn’t seem right to me. The hurt over losing Marty was too strong.
Eventually Jim knew that the best thing for him to do was move forward and he applied for the job as the Sheriff’s Deputy in charge of Sweetwater Conservancy.
Not exactly a great place to meet women! Too isolated. But that’s what I wanted at the time…just to live my life and keep Marty in my memories.
He had been here ever since and had settled into a normal routine. As normal as I could make it...
He sighed heavily. I miss her so much!
Then, he remembered where he was and his thoughts turned to Claire. She came into my life just in the nick of time. Call it midlife crisis or whatever, but I was really beginning to wonder if I could find someone to share my life with again.
He smiled. She’s beautiful and I can’t believe my luck!
Jim settled his head deeper in the pillow. Her eyes, her face, her legs…everything about her is gorgeous! And, best of all, she cares for me too. I can tell in the way she kissed me.
I can’t wait to tell her how I feel, he thought as he gingerly sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bed. He exited the bedroom, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to face the day.
As he walked down the hall towards the kitchen and living room area, he slowed his pace as he realized how quiet the house was. “Claire…where are you?”
He continued down the hall until he arrived at the end and peeked around the corner into the kitchen. “Claire?”
Huh, that’s funny. She’s not here. Cell phone’s on the table. Maybe she’s still in bed. Grinning, he was tempted by the possibility of that being true and what he might do if she was still in bed.
But, when he looked in her bedroom and saw the bed made, Jim started to get a queasy feeling in his stomach. She wouldn’t go without me! She promised me that she would wait!
But as the alarming reality set in that she was not there, he quickly ran to the window and looked out.
No Claire, but what he saw in the yard almost caused his heart to stop. There standing in the same place where the blood, the water and the rose had been was the faint apparition of Libby Newman. She looked at him with the most profound sadness and motioned as if she wanted him to come to her. The lingering morning fog clung to the surroundings and hampered his view but it was Libby. He stared at her for a few seconds and then she faded away. He quickly looked around to see if anyone might have seen her but no one else was watching from a window but Jim. No one saw her and Jim knew in a heartbeat what her message was to him.
Find Claire and you’ll find me…and my killer.
Chapter Twenty-five
While riding back to the state police post with one of the troopers, George Stanley went over the known facts about the death of Art Cane.
He was by himself when the perpetrator entered the office. No witnesses have surfaced to dispute that. The office is in an isolated area and even though we will put out a request for information, there probably weren’t any other people in the area at the time the crime was committed, or they would have called already.
It looks like he was running from his attacker but there were no signs of a struggle; everything was in order. The victim was caught by surprise. He tried to escape but didn�
��t get far. The person who killed him came up from behind and stabbed him in the heart. No blood spatters were in any other part of the office. He dropped right where he was standing beside the table, and died almost instantly.
Fingerprints from the scene might yield some more clues, but without the weapon, we’re at a real disadvantage. There’s likely to be a lot of fingerprints in the office; most of them will be people who work there, including Trent Newman.
George felt the car slow down as the driver focused on the road ahead. The fog was hampering his ability to see clearly.
DNA might yield some blood that doesn’t belong to the victim. It will take some time before we have the results due to the backlog at the lab. And then, if there is DNA that doesn’t match Art Cane, we’ll have to have probable cause to collect a sample from Mr. Newman.
Officer Stanley shook his head dejectedly when considering the time required for any results to come back.
The frustrating part is the waiting, he thought. It could be months before we know for sure if there is other DNA…and then we would have to convince Trent Newman to supply us with a specimen…or try to get one ourselves.
He sighed knowingly at the realization that this case could occupy his mind for the next several months.
Sure hate the thought that Chief will be involved with the investigation. He was so looking forward to his retirement.
George smiled. I guess it’ll be put on hold for now.
He glanced up in surprise when he realized that they had already arrived back at the post.
I’ll just go in and drop off what I have and go home!
Suddenly recognizing how tired he was, George yawned and rubbed his eyes.
He walked into the building and acknowledged some of the staff with a wave before arriving at his desk. He put the crime evidence in his file basket as his attention was drawn to a note left on the desk.
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