Middle River Murders

by Ann Mullen

  Middle River Murders

  by Ann Mullen

  http://www.aftonridge.com

  Copyright © 2007 by Ann Mullen

  ISBN 13: 978-0-9828776-4-7

  This book is a work of fiction. Any characters portrayed, living or dead are imaginary. Any resemblance to actual persons is completely coincidental. Any places, business establishments, locales, events, or incidents in this book are the product of the author’s imagination, or used fictitiously.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  TABLE OF CONTENT

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  It was a lovely, warm summer’s day. The skies were filled with puffy, blue clouds and there was no sign that there would be afternoon rain as predicted by the weather forecaster. If there was to be an afternoon shower, it wouldn’t matter to sixty-two year old Daisy Clark, because by then her luncheon would be over and she would have accomplished her goal. No one would equate the illness that was about to befall Pat Johnson to the food served at her gathering of the Stanardsville Social Club.

  Each member of the Stanardsville Social Club took turns hosting luncheons at her home. All members were invited (without their husbands) because this was their time—a time for the ladies to get together and share stories about the children, grandchildren, vacations, parties, future plans, and to gossip about whoever was the topic of the conversation at the time. They took trips and went out to dinner together at least once every other month. There was no harm, no foul when these ladies got together. It was all in good fun… until one day Daisy got a wild idea.

  It was time to elect a new president of the club, a position that Daisy yearned for, but everyone knew Pat Johnson was sure to be the winner of this prestigious spot. She had truly earned it.

  The president ran the show, and most importantly, had the last say on everything. A new president served one year and was chosen according to how hard she had worked during the past year to choose the best restaurants in which to dine, places to travel, and functions to attend. It was all about who could provide the most fun for the club members—and Pat Johnson had definitely proven worthy of this title. If the president went beyond the club’s expectations, she would usually be chosen to serve more than one term.

  Rosemary Felder, the current president, had not lived up to the expectations of the club and would not be reelected to another term. There was even a rumor that she had planned to drop out of the club—an unheard of act. So far, since the creation of this club a couple of years ago, no one had ever dropped out.

  Daisy desperately wanted the honor of being club president, so she hatched out a plan to eliminate the competition. She thought it would be fun and would only cause mild suffering; she never meant to cause real harm.

  Mushrooms sautéed in real butter were the culprit. Just before the sun came up, Daisy had gone out into the cow pasture, flipped over cow dung and picked a handful of wild mushrooms for her intended victim. Each member was served a large helping of store-bought mushrooms, except Pat—she was given the special ones.

  The idea came to Daisy while she was standing in line at the grocery store. Two teenagers in front of her were busy discussing their night of partying and how they really got off on magic mushrooms.

  “I thought my head was going to explode,” the pink-haired girl said. “Man, I was really jammin’. I was all over the place. Everybody knew I was high. I kept bumping into things. Man, I felt good! But when I came down, I felt like crap. I had a stomach ache all the next day—but it was worth it. I’m just glad my parents weren’t around to see me. If they found out I was high, I’d be banished to my room for a month. I was out of control, girl.”

  Both girls snickered.

  “Yeah,” the other girl with a ring in her eyebrow said. “It’s kind of hard trippin’ without everybody knowing it. All I wanted to do was dance with that hunky guy from the bar.” The girl made a bump and grind motion with her hips. “I could’ve gone all night with that dude.”

  “We need to get some more!”

  “We’ll have to wait until my folks leave. We can’t be out in the cow pasture, digging under cow pies with them around.”

  Words spoken by two young fools was all it took for Daisy to give it a try. What could it hurt? She wasn’t going to kill Pat, just feed her something that would make her act crazy. The other women would think Pat was on drugs and then her chance of moving up the ladder would be over. Nobody would elect someone who had developed a drug problem. They’d pretend to be there for her and help her overcome her addiction, but her chance of becoming president would be zero. They would shun her and eventually she wouldn’t be invited to their gatherings. Not being invited back as a member happened frequently. Some people just didn’t measure up and were conveniently left off the call list.

  A decision made in haste and without forethought of consequences proved to be a fatal mistake. By the time Pat returned home, she was stricken with severe diarrhea and began vomiting. She was taken to the hospital and diagnosed with a case of E. coli. She died two days later.

  Her husband, Wayne, told the doctor she had a terrible habit of eating raw hamburger and that she had fixed a pot of spaghetti sauce earlier that day. He was sure she had probably eaten some of the raw meat.

  The doctor was convinced that the deadly bacteria came from the raw hamburger and the medical examiner concurred.

  Daisy was upset. She felt terrible when she overheard a nurse tell another nurse that by the time Pat Johnson died, her insides had turned into Jell-O. It was an ugly death.

  However, regardless of how badly Daisy felt about Pat’s death, she wasn’t about to tell the doctor that he had made a mistake. Pat didn’t get E. coli from the hamburger, she got it from the special mushrooms. Daisy knew the real truth, but she wasn’t going to confess her criminal act. This would be her little secret; not even her husband could know. As she left the hospital that day, Daisy quickly recovered from her guilt and even smiled at the idea that she could get rid of someone so easily. The feeling of having so much power was intoxicating and overwhelming.

  Daisy’s mushrooms never came to light as a cause of death. She was excited that she had gotten away with her little stunt and reveled in the thought that she might be able to do it again. Why not? She asked herself this question over and over as she thought about some of the people she didn’t like. But maybe next time she would do it differently.

  Even though the mushrooms weren’t the real cause of Pat Johnson’s death, Daisy Clark thought they were. Her attitude about life changed in an instant. A seed had been planted and a killer was born.

  Chapter 1

  There’s nothing more wonderful than the sweet smell of pine in the warm, mountain night air in late August. I love all the wonderful smells of summ
er, but there’s something special about the coming of fall and the changing of the leaves. Labor Day was around the corner, and in another month the landscape would be bursting in red, yellow and orange hues. I sat back in the rocking chair on the front porch and took in the last of the summer breezes. I rubbed my protruding belly as I read through the book on childcare (one of many) that Mom had bought for me.

  My pregnancy had started out a little rough (morning sickness in the afternoon), but that passed, and so far it has been smooth sailing ever since. I was surprised at how great I felt and how much I was enjoying being pregnant. The thought of motherhood excited me.

  “Just a couple more weeks little one,” I said. “Then you’ll get to meet your daddy and your grandma and… whoa, what was that?”

  A feeling of extreme pressure shot through me as a gush of water soaked my jeans.

  “No, not now!” I screamed. “It’s too soon.”

  Mom walked out onto the front porch with a washcloth in one hand and had Maisy propped on her hip, holding her with the other arm.

  “This child gets heavier with each passing day... Jesse, what’s the matter? You don’t look too good. Should I go get Billy?”

  “My water just broke, Mom.”

  “Billy!” Mom yelled. “Come quickly!”

  Several hours later, on August the twenty-seventh, Ethan Samuel Blackhawk came into this world screaming at the top of his lungs. Even though he was two weeks early, he was healthy. He weighed in at six pounds and two ounces, and had a head full of thin, black hair. His skin was an olive color, just like his father’s. One look at this child and there was no doubt about his parental lineage—which, according to one person was up in the air.

  My name is Jesse Watson Blackhawk. I moved to a beautiful little town in the mountains of Virginia with my folks a couple of years ago. Unfortunately, my dad passed away right after we moved to Stanardsville, so that left Mom alone. Then my sister, Claire, left her husband and moved in with Mom, along with her two kids, Benny and Carrie.

  I immediately got a job working for a private investigator named Billy Blackhawk. One thing led to another and shortly thereafter, Billy and I got married. Prior to marrying Billy, I had a brief relationship with Cole James, a Greene County deputy and Billy’s best friend—who was certain that the child I was carrying was his. Fortunately, that thought was put to rest the minute Ethan was born.

  After I married Billy, Claire had a bizarre relationship with Cole that lasted about as long as a bad headache, and then she met Randy Morgan. Now she spends most of her time in the house she once shared with Carl, her adulterous husband, which surprises me because there once was a dead body in the basement of that house. But that’s another story. Her house is next door to Randy’s mother, Abigail Morgan—a wonderful woman who thinks I’m the cat’s meow.

  Actually, I don’t think Claire can make up her mind about where she wants to live, here with Mom or at her house in Washington, D.C. But one thing is for sure; she only has eyes for Randy. She comes back to Stanardsville and stays with Mom (when Mom isn’t at our house) for about two or three days and then she’s off again to D.C. to be with him. On rare occasions, she leaves the kids with Mom for a couple of days. But that doesn’t happen very often.

  Mom still has her house in Dogwood Valley even though recently she has spent most of her time at our house with us, waiting for our new arrival. She usually goes home on the weekends so she can cavort with her new gentleman friend, Edward… she calls him Eddie. She met Eddie one day when a storm knocked down a tree in her front yard, causing part of the tree to land in the middle of the road. Eddie stopped to help some of the other neighbors cut up the tree, and as they say, the rest is history. He seems like a nice guy, but I find it hard to see anyone with my mother except my dad, Mack. I’m sure I’ll get past that feeling in time.

  My brother, Jack, hasn’t been around for a while. His significant other, Dennis, keeps him busy. They’re both lawyers and spend most of their time in a courtroom, and when they’re not in a courtroom, they’re off to some tropical island, soaking up the rays. Two weeks before Ethan was born, Jack sent me a postcard from Hawaii saying, “Wish you were here,” which I doubted very seriously. Who in his right mind would want his sister with him on a romantic vacation? I had to laugh at that thought.

  Maisy—it’s a long story about how she came into our family, but to make it short—Billy and I adopted her after her parents died. Sometimes I lay awake at night and wonder if some family member will crawl out of the woodwork and demand we turn her over to them. It’s been a few months now and nobody has shown up. She’s ten months old and a total delight to us all, especially my mother, Grandma Minnie.

  Mom has always been overjoyed at the prospect of having a house full of grandchildren, so when I bought her a little wooden plaque I found at the mall that said something to the effect that if she had known how wonderful grandchildren could be, she would’ve had them first. She got a big kick out of that.

  “Ethan is such a beautiful little baby,” Mom said as we stood in front of the nursery window at Martha Jefferson Hospital in Charlottesville. “He looks just like his father.”

  Billy smiled and said, “He is a handsome warrior!” His pride glowed like a bright star in the sky on a dark night. He reached over and put his strong arm around my waist. “You have made me so proud, `ge ya.”

  “I do my best,” I said. I kissed him on the cheek and then looked over at Mom. “I can’t believe how easy the birth was. I’d heard so many horror tales that I was scared to death at the thought of being in labor for twenty or thirty hours, but that’s not how it was. Sometimes you just get lucky, I guess. I know I did.”

  “Yeah,” Claire said as she walked up to the window where we were standing. She gave me a big hug. “I’m so proud of you. Mom called and said you were in labor, but you had the baby before I could get here. Which one is he?”

  Billy proudly pointed to Ethan. “That’s my boy… the handsome one over there.”

  “Aw,” Claire cooed. “He looks just like you, Billy.” She then winked at me. “I guess Cole will finally leave the two of you alone now.”

  “Claire,” Mom said. “Don’t go and put a damper on such a joyous occasion.”

  “I’m sorry,” Claire replied. “I didn’t mean to…”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I’m so happy, nothing can bring me down.”

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, Cole came around the corner carrying a huge flower arrangement.

  “For the new mother,” he said with a smile on his face as he held out the flowers. “I just heard the good news.”

  “And what was the news you heard?” Claire asked with sarcasm in her voice. “Was it that Jesse had her baby, or the fact that it isn’t yours? Did you have to come see for yourself?”

  “I’ll take them,” Mom said, reaching for the arrangement. “Jesse isn’t supposed to be lifting anything so soon after delivery.” Mom took the flowers, grabbed Claire by the arm and headed down the hall. “We’ll be waiting in your room, Jesse. I think the three of you need to talk.”

  The three of us stood in silence.

  Finally, I spoke up. “Have a look at our son and then tell me you think there’s any remote possibility that you might be his father.” I pointed to Ethan.

  A surprised look came over Cole’s face. “I’m surprised and truly embarrassed by my behavior. I guess it’s my turn to eat crow,” he said. “I was just so sure…”

  “I’ll go see if I can find you a spoon,” I said as I walked away. I left Billy and Cole standing in the hallway as I walked away.

  “Three hours!” Claire beamed as I entered the room. “I can’t believe it! You’re so lucky!”

  I crawled into bed and pulled the covers over me. I was tired, sore, and still reeling about my easy delivery. I thought giving birth would kill me, but it didn’t. Actually, it was much easier than I’d expected. Maybe Chief Sam was right. He said I would give Billy many
babies and if the rest would be as easy as Ethan, I was ready to do it again.

  “I was so proud of her,” Mom said to Claire. “I thought for sure she’d be in labor for hours and hours and she’d raise such a ruckus that we’d all be crazy before it was over, but that didn’t happen. She dropped that baby like it was nothing. She’s a real trooper. Her water broke and the next thing I knew, Billy was cutting the cord.”

  “Were you in the delivery room?”

  “I most certainly was,” Mom said proudly. “My, how things have changed since I had kids. It used to be that you’d go in, be put to sleep and then have the baby. Then the doctor would go out and tell the father. Not anymore. Now anyone can be present. Well, almost.”

  “I’m so sorry that I couldn’t get here in time. This is such a special event,” Claire started to cry. “My little sister has had a baby.”

  Mom started to cry, and by the time Billy walked into the room, all three of us were crying.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “We’re just so happy,” I said in between my tears.

  “So are we,” Sarah said as she and Chief Sam walked into the room. She walked over and hugged me and then Mom and Claire. “I can’t wait to see my grandson. I bet he looks just like his daddy.”

  “Let me take you to the nursery,” Billy said smiling, his pride showing. “I have many great plans for our child. Shall we go?”

  “Not until I give my special girl a big hug,” the chief said. He walked over, leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. “See, I told you. Not as bad as you thought, huh? I knew you’d come through like the trooper that you are. You are a fine daughter-in-law.”

  “It wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d expected,” I whispered. “You’re always right, chief. My son will be proud to have you as a grandfather. I just wish my father could’ve lived to see…”

  “Don’t be worrying about Mack not being here, honey,” Mom said, reading my thoughts. “He’s in heaven right now, throwing a big party.”

  “I say we throw a big party, too,” Jonathan said as he and Billy’s other two brothers, Daniel and Robert, walked into the room. “Isn’t that the way of the Cherokee? We throw shindigs for everything under the stars.”