In Silence Sealed

by J. R. Lindermuth

  “Course not. He’s not the one investigating. The Staties are on the case.”

  Yes. That made sense. It had been a State Police sergeant who’d interviewed her. “Why do they think she did it?”

  Earl shrugged. “Didn’t hear that they had any evidence. Just that Lydia is the prime suspect.”

  “Do you know the Stoneroads?”

  Earl snorted. “Me? How the hell would I know folks like them? I knew the people who used to live there. Him and her is passed on now.”

  Diana hadn’t expected him to know Stoneroad. Still it was a question she had to ask. For her plan to work, she needed access to Stoneroad. How could she do it? What--

  “You up for that game?” Earl interrupted her thoughts.

  Diana slid the plate with the half-eaten burger to the edge of the bar and downed her drink. Her intent had been to leave. Then an idea occurred to her. “Is there another way to get on the property other than by the lane where I saw the police yesterday?”

  “Sure. Why’d you ask?”

  “You want another beer, Earl?”

  * * * *

  “I don’t see why it was necessary for me to come in. She already told me what you did,” Vickie said, pointing a finger at Flora. “And I appreciate it.”

  “I asked you to come in because I want something in return,” Harry told her. “Have a seat and I’ll explain.” He pulled a folding chair next to his desk and gestured for her to sit.

  Her gaze darting from Harry to Flora and back again, Vickie obeyed. She crossed her feet at the ankles, then uncrossed them as her right leg began to jitter. Clasping her hands on her lap, she gazed up at Harry. “What do you want from me?”

  Harry flopped down on his desk chair, assessing the woman seated before him. “The truth,” he told her.

  “I…”

  “Vickie, we know you were in that motel room. I told you before, Timothy Nagle died of natural causes. Just because you were in the room when it happened doesn’t mean you’re in any trouble.”

  Vickie swallowed and fidgeted on the hard seat. “Why does it matter then?” At least the squad room was empty save for the three of them. She didn’t need the whole world knowing what happened that night.

  “Because there are a few questions you might answer for us.”

  Vickie wanted to get up and leave. Glancing behind her, she saw Flora leaning against another desk, watching her. “He gave me a ride. That’s all.”

  “There may be a little more to it. He wanted you to pay for the ride with sex, didn’t he?”

  Vickie gulped. Tears shone in her eyes. She nodded.

  Flora laid a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll feel better if you get it off your chest. Just tell Harry what happened.”

  Her head lowered and hands shaking, Vickie spoke in a low voice. “He was nice to me most of the way. He offered to bring me back here to Swatara Creek if I’d go along into Harrisburg so he could drop off his load. Since he hadn’t hit on me before, I agreed.” She raised her head and peered up at Harry. “Only he took me to the motel instead. He said I had to pay up for the ride before he’d bring me into town. I wanted to run away. I’m no virgin, but I’m not a whore either.”

  “I understand. You were scared. What did you do?”

  “I talked him into letting me have a shower first. You know, just to delay things. He agreed, only…”

  “Take your time, Vickie,” Flora told her. “You’re doing fine.”

  Vickie gave her a cautious glance. “It was so embarrassing. He stood outside the shower watching and—you know—playing with himself the whole time. I thought he might rape me. He kept telling me to hurry up and get done. Finally, he went back, and I heard him lay down on the bed.”

  Vickie stopped talking. She lowered her head and began kneading her thighs.

  “Take a break,” Harry told her. “Flora, would you get her a drink?”

  Flora came back with three cans of Coke. After a few swallows, Vickie resumed her narrative. “I’d put my clothes back on and it pissed him off. He was laying on the bed, smoking a joint and had his pants off. He put his hand on his big thing and said he wanted me to put it in my mouth. The thought of it almost made me throw up.

  “He reached out and grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward him. I tried to break free. All of a sudden, he got this funny expression on his face and started gasping and clutching at his chest. He released me and fell back on the bed. I was so scared. I just grabbed my stuff and ran out the door.”

  “You didn’t think of calling nine-one-one?”

  She shook her head. “I know I should have. I was just too scared. All I wanted was to get away.”

  “How did you get into town?”

  “Like I said. I walked. It wasn’t that far.”

  “Okay. You’ve done fine, Vickie. Just one more question and you can go after you sign a statement.”

  She gazed at him, puzzled. “What else could there be?”

  “The spliffs. Where did they come from?”

  “Why? They weren’t mine.”

  “They were laced with another substance. Whatever it was—in addition to sexual excitement coupled with several health issues—may have contributed to his heart attack. Were they yours?”

  She shook her head. “Tim said he bought them from a dish washer at a diner we stopped at on the highway. I wasn’t with him when he made the buy.”

  “Thanks,” Harry said, sliding a tablet and a pen across the desk to her.

  * * * *

  Stick’s hand hovered over a rook, then switched to a pawn. Realizing he was already doomed by Anita’s previous move, he took no further action on the board, reaching instead for his glass and draining it. “More wine?”

  Anita chuckled. “Giving up?”

  He shrugged. “I taught you too well.”

  This prompted another laugh. “I was playing my daddy when I was still a toddler. He was the one taught me, cowboy.”

  “Right you are,” he said, rising. “Wine?”

  “Since you’re conceding the game.” She handed over her goblet.

  He came back, sat, and handed over her drink.

  “I know you didn’t have your mind on the game tonight,” she said, taking a sip of the red.

  Sticks scratched at his scalp. “This case. It’s driving me to distraction. I can’t concentrate on anything else.”

  “You’ll find a way to save Lydia.”

  “I appreciate your confidence, darling. I’m damned frustrated. I know Lydia is innocent, but can’t find a thing to convince Runyan he’s wrong in targeting her. Harry has dug up some more dirt on the Stoneroads. Seems they met when both were competing in the National Matches at Camp Perry.”

  Anita wrinkled her brow. “I’m not sure what that means.”

  “Rifle and handgun competitions held annually at the camp in Ohio for both military and civilian shooters. Stoneroad competed in pistol, his wife in both categories. Seems she’d been taking trophies since her teens. Neither one has competed in recent years, but the fact they qualified in the past means both know a thing or two about guns.”

  “Well that should be good news for Lydia’s case, shouldn’t it?”

  “The fact they’re both familiar with weapons, yes. Unfortunately, Lydia’s weapon is the most likely to have been used by the killer and there’s nothing to connect the Stoneroads to it.”

  * * * *

  “You’re a blackmailing bitch,” Mrs. Stoneroad said.

  Diana shrugged. “You can call me all the names you like. The choice is yours. Either you pay me, or the world hears the truth.”

  Stoneroad and the Calder woman hadn’t said a word, both of them staring at her with the cold glare of venomous snakes. Their hatred didn’t faze Diana. She’d come too far to retreat now.

  Getting to this confrontation with them hadn’t been easy. She’d followed Schurke’s rattletrap old truck out into the country until he’d stopped at the edge of a field. Earl got out and walked back to he
r car. “Just cut across that field and you’ll see the back of the house through the trees,” he said after she’d lowered the window. “You want me to wait for you?”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure I’ll be able to find my way back. Maybe I’ll see you later at the bar.”

  Earl leaned against the car. “You forget somethin’?”

  With a sibilant sigh she handed him the twenty as promised. “Thanks, babe. See you later.”

  At least he hadn’t been a bit curious as to why she wanted to see the writer. Not that she’d have told him anyway.

  Getting down to the farmhouse proved more difficult than anticipated. Her Christian Louboutin flats weren’t the best footwear for tramping across country fields and through the woods. Mud and stones were ruining the shoes. Fortunately, they were knockoffs and not the real thing. Twigs jabbed at her face and twisted in her hair as she traversed the woods. Bigger branches snagged in her clothing and she twisted her ankle stepping on a loose rock before she came out in the yard. Then the damned dogs came after her out of the dark and one of them tore the sleeve of her new coat, leaping up and smearing her with more mud. Diana feared they’d tear her to pieces and they might have had lights not come on at the back of the house as Stoneroad came out and called the pack off. He’d threatened to call the police and have her arrested for trespassing until she made her own threat.

  Now they sat in the parlor and she had their attention.

  “Why should we believe you,” Mrs. Stoneroad asked. “How would you know?”

  Diana snickered. “Like any good reporter, I have my sources. Are you willing to take a chance I’m lying?”

  “What makes you think I have the kind of money you’re asking? I’m not a wealthy man.”

  Diana laughed again. “Come on. Don’t pull that poor boy stuff with me. I know everything. Your books are bestsellers. Even if it weren’t for that, I know all about Lillian’s money, too. Amount I’m asking, you won’t even miss it.”

  “And how do we know you’d be satisfied with that?” Nan Calder said. “You might be back asking for more in another week.”

  “I might. But, I won’t. I’m not as greedy as you think. I just want some fair compensation for keeping your secret.”

  “Have you no compassion?” Lillian Stoneroad snapped. “My son has been murdered.”

  Diana shrugged. “Not my concern. But, here’s my compassion—I’ll give you forty-eight hours to come up with the money. You don’t have it by then, the world knows what I know.”

  Chapter 20

  Harry paused in the report he’d been reading aloud to Brubaker. “You with me, boss?”

  “Uh, sorry, Harry,” Aaron said, the officer’s comment making him realize he’d been off in a daze, staring at the wall rather than paying attention. “I guess my mind’s just not on work today.”

  “No problem, chief. I understand. Is there anything new with the investigation?”

  Brubaker stood up at his desk. “Not really. You wanna cup of coffee?”

  “Sure. Might as well.” He didn’t need the caffeine, but Harry felt preparing it might help Brubaker. He sat back on the uncomfortable visitor’s chair, observing as the chief went about preparing their coffee at his Keurig. Brubaker’s hand shook as he handed a cup to Harry along with the creamer.

  “Thanks.” Harry sat the mug on the edge of the desk. “Look, if you want to go home, I can handle things here.”

  Brubaker resumed his seat, cradling his own mug in big hands. He shook his head. “Nothing I can do there either except get on Lydia’s nerves. She insisted Helen and me go on like normal. Some normal—waitin’ for your kid to be charged with murder.”

  “That’s not going to happen, Aaron. We all know Lydia is innocent.”

  “We do. Runyan haint as sure.” He slurped coffee, a little dribbling down his chin and spotting his shirt.

  “Lydia isn’t working?”

  “No. Says she’s not fit to be around other people.”

  “Have they found the weapon?”

  “Not as far as I know. But when they do, it’s almost certain to have been the murder weapon. Whoever killed the kid must have taken it from Lydia’s car. I should never have insisted she carry the damned thing.”

  “You can’t blame yourself. You were thinking about her safety.”

  He hissed a breath. “Yeah, but she never did want to carry. Never did like shooting—especially not the idea of shooting another person. When she was a kid I took her out to the range a couple times. She cried. Said the noise and stuff scared her. It’s my fault for pushin’ her to carry a weapon.”

  “Well, what you’ve just said proves she’s not the kind of person who would ever think of hurting another.”

  “If only I could convince Runyan of that.” He rubbed a hand across his face. He leaned back, and the chair squeaked in protest at the change in weight. “But enough of my troubles. Give me the details on that report again. The girl admitted she was at the motel?”

  “Right. Nagle wanted oral sex in exchange for giving her a ride. She refused, and he started to get rough. Apparently, that’s when the heart attack hit him, and she got scared and ran off.”

  “She supply the joints?”

  Harry shook his head. “She said he bought them on the way here.”

  “You believe her?”

  “I do.”

  “Any reason to charge her with something?”

  “I guess a case could be made for negligence, her not calling nine-one-one. And she could have been straight with us from the get-go. But, like I said, the kid was scared. My opinion, give her a pass.”

  Brubaker nodded. “Okay with me. File the report. Not like we don’t have other work.”

  Harry finished his coffee but didn’t make an effort to leave.

  “Something else on your mind?”

  Harry leaned forward, hands clasped over his stomach. “Yeah. This business of her believing Nan Calder to be her sister. I got Vanessa Walker’s prints from Cheltenham. Do you think it’d be all right if I went out to the farm and asked for a comparison set from Calder?”

  Aaron frowned. Then he nodded. “If you get Runyan’s permission first. I don’t want him thinkin’ it’s a sneaky trick to horn in on his investigation.”

  * * * *

  “Why should I?” Nan Calder asked. “I’ve already bent over backwards trying to prove I’m not her sister.”

  Harry didn’t blame her. After getting Runyan’s approval, he’d found the woman in the stable at the farm. Wearing a fleece jacket over a lilac corduroy shirt and jeans, she had her back to him, grooming a larger chestnut horse in one of the stalls. A loose board squeaked underfoot as he approached, and she turned. It was Harry’s first encounter with her and the sight of Nan Calder gave him a start.

  “Who are you?” she’d demanded.

  Harry identified himself and explained his mission.

  “I know it’s an imposition with everything else going on,” he said now. “But, if you don’t mind my saying so, you do have a strong resemblance to the photo I saw of Vanessa Wagner.”

  “Your chief didn’t think so,” she said, coldly.

  Harry smiled in an effort to break through her resistance. “That’s why witness accounts are so unreliable. People often don’t agree on what they see.”

  Nan licked her lips. Her brown eyes swept over him as she laid aside the curry comb and stepped out of the stall. “Did he tell you what I’ve already done to prove to that girl I’m not her sister?”

  “Chief Brubaker said you’ve been very cooperative.”

  She came closer and Harry inhaled a pleasant perfume despite the strength of the normal barn odors. A horse blew breath and stamped in one of the other stalls. Nan’s gaze was unnervingly direct.

  “The missing woman has a birth mark on her breast,” Nan told him. “I even showed Vicky my tits to prove I’m not her sister. Do you know what she said?”

  Harry shook his head.

 
; “She said I must have had the birth mark removed. I think the poor girl is nuts. I’m not her sister.”

  “The chief said you did offer before to let us compare fingerprints. I have the kit in my unit and I’ve got a copy of Vanessa’s prints. It wouldn’t take long. It might help me convince Vicky to leave you alone.”

  “Oh, what the hell? Go get the damned kit and I’ll do it.”

  Harry quickly complied before she might change her mind.

  It was damp in the stable and he felt the chill despite his warm uniform. Harry thought about asking her to go outside where the sun made the air pleasant despite the advancing autumn season. But he didn’t press his luck and got on with the job at a shelf against one wall. Nan’s small hands were cool in his grip and he thought she must be feeling the cold as much as he.

  “How’s Lydia doing?” Nan asked as he finished his task and handed her a wipe to clean her fingers.

  “It’s been rough on her and the family. She’s tough, though. She’ll get through it.”

  “We only met a few times,” Nan said, with a slight catch in her voice, “but I can’t believe she would have hurt Jason.”

  “Of course she wouldn’t. I’ve known her for a long time. She and my fiancée went to school together. Do you have any idea who might have wanted to harm Jason? I’m sure you knew him better than any of us.”

  She gave him a sharp glance. “What makes you think I knew that much about him?”

  “Well, I understood you’ve lived with the family for some time. Surely, you must have talked. Maybe had friends in common. If there’s anything you know that might help the investigation…”

  The brown eyes studied him for a moment. Then Nan shook her head. “I’m sorry for Lydia’s trouble. There’s nothing I can do to help. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to the horses.”

  * * * *

  Aaron Brubaker scratched at his pate. He’d thought about having another cup of coffee earlier but hadn’t worked up the desire enough to get off his chair. Now, past the time he’d planned on going home, he still sat, contemplating his lack of success in ferreting out a reason why someone killed Jason Russell.