In Silence Sealed

by J. R. Lindermuth

  The scrape of shoe soles on the paving outside alerted her to the arrival of the doctor.

  “Hi, Flora. What do we have?” Dr. Furman asked, joining her in the room.

  Flora rose and nodded toward the body. “Maid found him this morning. I don’t see any obvious injuries. Maybe a heart attack?”

  Trucks rumbled by on the road outside and somewhere nearby a horn blared.

  Noting the man’s nude extremities, the doctor grinned. “Got himself over-excited, you think?”

  Flora blushed. “You’ll have to tell me.”

  The doctor, a normally quiet and unassuming young man, reddened in turn. “Sorry,” he said. “That was crude and unprofessional.” He went to the body and began his examination. Moments later, he turned back to her. “You’re right. Nothing obvious. I’ve called for an ambulance. Harry on the way?”

  “Yes.”

  “Heard you guys got engaged. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” During the doctor’s examination and their conversation, Flora continued a visual survey of the motel room. Nothing out of the ordinary drew her attention. She and the doctor stepped out of the room and Flora closed the door behind them.

  Corporal Harry Minnich and the ambulance arrived in tandem. After exchanging greetings with her fiancé, Flora left him and the others to tend to the corpse and the room while she went to interview Miss Daubert and the maid.

  * * * *

  “This guy has something to tell you,” Miss Daubert said as Flora entered the office. She nodded toward a man who stood at the counter, shifting from one foot to the other and staring back at them. He wore a rumpled brown suit and a battered suitcase sat on the floor beside him.

  “You’re not gonna hold me up, are you?” he asked. “I got a schedule to keep.”

  “If you give me a statement and an address where we can reach you if needed, that should be sufficient, sir. What is it you have to tell me?”

  He licked his lips and hesitated. “I don’t want to get involved. I saw your vehicle and was curious. So I asked what was going on. They said there’s a dead guy. I’m just a salesman. I don’t--”

  “Sir, if you know something that can help...”

  His eyes blinked rapidly. “I should have just kept my mouth shut.”

  “He saw somebody comin’ out of the room,” Miss Daubert interjected.

  “Is that right, sir?”

  The salesman nodded. “I heard a noise. I’d just turned off the TV. I heard the shower runnin’ in the unit next door. There was something like a shout or a cry. A little while later the door slammed. I looked out and saw him running away.”

  “You saw a man leave the room?”

  He shrugged. “Man or a boy. Couldn’t say for sure. Not a big guy. Short and kind of skinny. I didn’t get a good look, you know. It was dark, and it happened so fast. I figured some hanky-panky had been goin’ on. You know how it is with these cheap motels.” Miss Daubert gave him an if-looks-could-kill glare but the man ignored it and added, “I just went back to bed and wouldn’t have given it any more thought if I hadn’t seen your patrol car.”

  “Can you give any more of a description?”

  “No. Like I said, it was dark. Best I could tell, he wore a parka and a wooly cap pulled down over his ears.”

  After the salesman had signed a statement, provided contact information, and left, Flora turned her attention to Miss Daubert and the maid.

  “This isn’t that kind of place, you know,” Miss Daubert told her. “I’m just trying to make a living here and I run a respectable place. I don’t allow none of them short-time trysts like he talked about. I ask for identification and take travelers who want a night’s sleep for a reasonable price. This isn’t a fuck and run place.”

  Flora had heard stories from other officers about the motel, but she wasn’t inclined to push the issue now. “I’m not questioning your business practices, Miss Daubert,” she said. “When he checked in, was Mr. Nagle alone?”

  She nodded. “Far as I could tell. He came in the office by hisself. He’d stopped here before and I never had no trouble from him. If there was somebody else in his truck, I didn’t see them.”

  “What time did he check in?”

  Miss Daubert shifted the register around so Flora could see. She pointed to it with a stubby, nicotine-stained finger. “Right around 9:30. My shift was over, and I should have been gone, but my night clerk had car trouble and was late getting here.”

  The salesman reported being disturbed around 10, so either Nagle’s companion had come with him or arrived shortly after he’d checked in.

  * * * *

  “You came at the right time, dear,” Lena Stroble told the young woman. “I just put the sign in the window.”

  They were in Lena’s tiny office off the kitchen of the popular Swatara Creek diner. The girl gave her a grateful grin as she completed filling in the work application. “I guess that was lucky for me. I just got in town and thought I’d have some breakfast and ask if you were hiring.”

  “You do understand this job might only be temporary,” Lena said. “The girl you’re replacing had a baby. If she wants to come back after, I got to give her that option.”

  “Ah, she haint comin’ back,” Sally Rickards said from the doorway. “You know that, Lena. Shirley wants to be a housewife. Havin’ this baby gives her the perfect excuse for her husband to say she don’t got to work here any longer.”

  “Still,” Lena said, “I got to ask her when the time comes.”

  “Sure. I know that. What’s your name, kid?”

  “Vickie. Uh, Vickie Walker.”

  “Nice to meetcha. I’m Sally. You waited tables before?”

  “Worked my way through college doin’ it,” Vickie said.

  “College grad. Wow. What are you still doin’ this for if you got a degree?”

  Vickie flushed and hung her head.

  “Hey, that was out of line,” Sally apologized. “Not my business. Girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. I don’t know what kind of places you worked before, but you’re gonna love it here. Lena’s the best boss anybody could ever have.”

  Vickie gazed up at her and didn’t respond.

  “You done with all the paperwork, Lena?”

  “All finished, hon.”

  “Okay. Whyn’t you come with me, Vickie? Get yourself some breakfast and I’ll fill you in on our routine. You can let your knapsack back here. Nobody will bother it. Things get busy by noon, but the reg’lars are all good tippers.”

  As Sally poured her a cup of coffee Vickie asked, “Are there any cheap places to stay in town? I don’t have a lot of money left and Lena said she’d have to hold back the first week’s pay.”

  “You don’t have a room or nothin’?”

  Vickie shook her head. “I hitchhiked in this morning.”

  “Oh. Well, hey, never mind. You can stay with me till you get squared away. That is, if you don’t mind sleepin’ on a sofa.”

  “Mind? That’s so generous of you, Sally. I don’t know what to say.”

  Sally gave her a big grin. “Haint nothin’ to say, then. ’Cept, okay. We girls gotta stick together.” Gesturing at the platter of eggs, home-fries and bacon, she added, “Eat up. Gonna get busy in here soon.”

  Vickie grinned back. Things were going better than she’d expected.

  Chapter 7

  “You find anything interesting in the room?” Flora asked as she and Harry Minnich took a booth at Lena’s just before noon.

  “I don’t know about interesting,” Harry said. “Lots of fingerprints. Enough for an army. Plus, a lot of trash and no way to be sure if it came from the dead guy or somebody else.”

  Flora gave him a disappointed look. “Nothing to indicate who the other guy might have been?”

  “I’m not sure it was a guy,” Harry said with a smile. “I think Nagle may have smuggled a woman into the room. Despite the other odors, I detected a hint of a subtle perfume in the bathroom and f
ound some longish blond hairs in the shower drain. Remember you said the guy in the next room heard the shower running.”

  “Uh-huh. But could the hairs have come from some earlier occupant?”

  “Sure. But our guy had an unopened condom laid out in readiness on the nightstand. I think he was waiting for the woman to finish her shower.”

  “You think she killed him?”

  “We’ll have to wait for the autopsy results to see how he died,” Harry said with a shrug. “Hey, enough work talk now.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “Let’s talk about us.”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” another voice cut in. “Do you need menus?”

  Harry and Flora glanced up to see an unfamiliar waitress smiling down at them. “I can come back if you’re not ready,” she added.

  “No need,” Harry told her. “What’s the special today?”

  “Choice of chicken corn soup with a side of salad or grilled cheese or a chef salad with a cup of tomato soup.”

  Harry opted for the chicken corn and the grilled cheese while Flora said she’d have the chef salad and soup. They both ordered Coca-Cola to drink.

  “Okay. Be right back with your drinks,” the girl told them.

  “You’re new here,” Flora said when she returned.

  “Started today,” the waitress said with a smile. “My name’s Vickie—in case you need to call for me.”

  “Nice to meet you, Vickie. I’m Flora and the big guy is Harry.”

  “Nice to meet you, too.” She turned away, sneakers squeaking on the worn linoleum.

  Vickie was no sooner gone than Sally Rickards stopped by their booth. “Hey, guys, how you doin’? Set the date yet?”

  Flora laughed. “Don’t worry, Sally. You’ll be among the first to get an invitation. You and Lena both are on our guest list.”

  “Well, I should hope. I’ve known you both all my life. Well, you at least, Flora. I remember your parents bringing you in here when you were still in a stroller. Now here you are, a policewoman and soon to be a bride. It brings tears to my eyes, Flora.” She wiped at her cheek with the back of one hand.

  “Cut it out, Sally,” Harry said, barking a laugh of his own. “Lena may have seen Flora in a stroller, but you’re not that old. When Flora was a baby you were only a toddler yourself.”

  “Maybe. But some days I feel like I’m nearly as old as Lena.”

  “You still fly around here like you were a teenager,” Harry told her.

  Sally grinned. “Well, I better get set to fly. Lunch crowd will be comin’ in anytime now. Our new girl takin’ good care on you?”

  “Sure. Not a local though,” Flora said.

  Sally shook her head. “Didn’t find out where she’s from. Just started today.” She waved a hand. “Gotta fly. Talk to you later.”

  * * * *

  After lunch, Flora and Harry walked the short distance from Lena’s Diner back to the large limestone building housing the Swatara Creek police department as well as the township municipal offices and the public library. Chief Aaron Brubaker was on the desk officer’s phone as they entered.

  “Any developments, boss?” Harry asked when Brubaker ended the call.

  “Not good ones,” the chief said. “That was Brent Tyler. A tour bus and a big rig collided out on the highway after you left the motel. No fatalities, but an assortment of injuries—some serious. Doc Furman has gone to Hershey Med to help handle the load. He won’t be getting to the autopsy on the motel body until that’s cleared up.”

  “So we still don’t know if it’s a homicide or natural causes.”

  “No. So I’m gonna need you to get out on patrol, Flora. No idea how long Brent’s gonna be tied up.”

  Small town officers are prepared to be multi-taskers, some tasks routine, others more serious, all necessary parts of the job. Flora nodded and headed to her desk to retrieve gear she hadn’t carried along to the restaurant.

  Harry walked with Aaron back to the chief’s office. “I’m going to start working my way through the fingerprints I collected at the motel, unless you have something else you need me to do.”

  “No. That’s fine. You get on with the forensics. At least we’ll be that far ahead when we do get a COD.”

  “What about his wife? Did you get through to her?”

  “Yeah. They’ve been separated for a year. Apparently, he didn’t bother to change the address on his paperwork. The wife gave me a number for his employer and I talked to them, too. Seems they have no complaints about him, job-wise.”

  “There’s no paper on him either. This could still turn out to be natural causes. Another guest at the motel claimed to see a person leaving the room. Evidence indicates he may have arranged to have time with a hooker. She may have taken off after he had a heart attack or some other fatal episode.”

  Brubaker nodded. “Well, all we can do at this point is look into the possibilities.”

  “On it, Chief.”

  * * * *

  Jason saw Nan enter the barn and he followed.

  He stood in the doorway, taking a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. She hadn’t turned on the lights and Jason didn’t see her standing in front of a nearby stall until she spoke.

  “Are you following me?”

  “Uh-no. I have as much right to come out here as you do.”

  Nan laughed. “Right.” Her sarcastic tone irked him, and he wanted to retaliate. No, he told himself, I don’t want to anger her. He stepped closer, gazing steadily at her as he did so.

  Nan wore a beige fleece-lined vest over a blue sweater. She’d hung her parka on a nail on the post at the front of the stall. Her brown eyes bore into him. “What do you want, Jason?” A petite woman with small breasts and a trim figure, Nan wore her blond hair in a classic, side-parted bob and she raised a long-fingered hand now to rake back strands fallen across one eye.

  “Nothing. Just wondered why you came in here.”

  “Why do you think? Who else takes care of the horses? Your mother likes to ride, but she’d never think of lifting a hand to help me with what’s needed to keep them clean and in good health.”

  “I wish you were as nice to me as you are to the animals.”

  She grinned. “New girlfriend not enough to satisfy you?”

  Jason knew his intrusion into her space made her nervous. Intentionally, he pressed forward, forcing her against the boards of the stall. She struck out, slapping him hard across the cheek. “Stop it! Leave me alone.”

  Ignoring the blow, Jason smiled, trailing his fingers across her cheek and down the length of her neck. “I remember when you used to like me touching you,” he said.

  Nan shoved against his shoulders with both hands, flailed at him with her tiny fists. He inhaled, breathing in a mix of her perfume, the heat of her body and the redolent odor of warm hay, horses and other scents pervading the barn. He released her and backed off.

  “You still excite me,” he told her.

  “You disgust me.”

  Jason took a long moment, studying her, waiting for her anger to cool. She did still excite him, despite all that had happened since he’d introduced her to the old man. She wasn’t as attractive as Lydia. Yet something about her triggered a sexual desire he couldn’t adequately explain. His gaze swept over her and he felt himself go hard.

  “What do you want, Jason?”

  A fuck for old time’s sake? Instead, he asked, “Do you know what’s going on with the old man?”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “What are you talking about?”

  “Are you telling me you haven’t noticed? He’s been acting paranoid for the past several weeks. You know Lydia’s father came out to see him the other day. Clay wouldn’t tell me why. Lydia said her dad came after a county detective, fellow named Hetrick, told him he’d been called earlier. Something about a prowler.”

  Nan shook her head. “He didn’t say anything to me about it. Does your mother know?”

  “I haven’t asked her.
Thought I’d check with you first.”

  “Well, you may as well ask Lillian. He didn’t tell me. So it probably wasn’t anything important.” She turned away from him, walking back the aisle to the stall where her horse waited. Jason didn’t know how much Clay had paid for the American Saddlebred, but he suspected more than the price he’d balked at paying for his used Jeep. Anything Nan wanted, all she had to do was ask. Of course, he wasn’t sleeping with the old man. Still, it annoyed him.

  Nan opened the gate and went in with the chestnut mare, cooing to her softly and sliding a hand over her flanks. She bent, picked up the currying brush and started working on the horse without another glance at him. Jason admired her firm butt and strong legs encased in tight jeans. Yeah. It would be nice for old times.

  He was nearly back to the door when she called to him.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ll see what I can find out.”

  Chapter 8

  “So where did you go to college, Jason?” Aaron Brubaker, despite another knee-nudge from his wife, persisted in asking personal questions in hope of getting more background on the young man who just might be a potential future son-in-law.

  Jason had been forthright and didn’t seem to object to Aaron’s dinner-table probing and apparently hadn’t noticed Helen’s growing irritation with her husband.

  “Oh, Dad,” Lydia objected now, “will you stop with the interrogation? Poor Jason can hardly get a bite in between your questions.” Her expression told Aaron she probably regretted inviting the boy for dinner.

  But Jason—a definite plus in his favor in Aaron’s opinion—laughed and told Lydia he wasn’t annoyed. “I don’t blame your dad. He wants to know his daughter isn’t dating some serial rapist or other kind of monster.” He paused for another bite. “This brisket and everything else, by the way, is wonderful. I haven’t eaten a home-cooked meal like this in ages.”

  Lydia beamed, and Helen quickly informed him her daughter was responsible for the meal.