Trooper Dryden saw us approaching the tape. He was standing next to the tape outside the enclosed area. I was surprised to see Jackson, Carter, and five troopers standing inside the taped off area. Two troopers were standing by the entrance to the maintenance room. All this told me that the forensic people had not arrived. If they had, they would have cleaned out the area of everyone pronto. I learned early in my investigative career that crime tape is used to preserve the scene. It is forensically vital that only the people who are gathering evidence be permitted in a crime scene so as not to contaminate the scene.
“We need to use the ladies’ restroom,” I said to Trooper Dryden.
He looked confused. He looked back at the scene, clearly debating whether or not to lift the tape to let us through. Another trooper walked over to Trooper Dryden.
“What’s going on here?”
“Sergeant, these ladies are from the bus. They need to use the ladies’ room.”
“Isn’t there a restroom on the bus?” the Sergeant asked.
“There is, but we need a little more space and privacy to conduct our business,” I explained.
The Sergeant grinned, then said, “Ladies, I do understand. We don’t plan on keeping you sequestered much longer. Malcolm, let them through on the side. Stay close to the side of the wall, so you don’t contaminate the scene. Escort them back to the bus when they are finished. Ladies, we’ll be on the bus shortly to talk to you.”
“Thank you, Sergeant,” the ladies and I echoed.
“Contaminate the scene! It is already contaminated with troopers and spectators,” I whispered to myself as we lined up by the wall to enter the restroom. As soon as Dimma and the three ladies were in the restroom stalls, I stood by the door and cracked it slightly. Trooper Dryden’s back was to the door. While walking to the front of the building, I noticed that there weren’t any vehicles in the parking lot except for state trooper patrol cars parked every which way. Now I know why. Peeking out the door, I saw flashing lights at the entrance to the rest area. I couldn’t see the trooper patrol car, but I was sure it was there to prevent motorists from coming onto the rest area. I hadn’t noticed the flashing lights while standing on the other side of the tape. The mist and fog made it hard to see much of anything at a distance.
I heard someone say, “He probably was pushed in there on his way to the men’s room, then shot.” The response was, “You’re probably right.”
I heard toilets flushing and decided to move away from the door. I quickly used the bathroom and quickly washed my hands.
As Trooper Dryden walked us back to the bus, I looked back at the crime scene. What came to mind was the one incredulous time I literally saw people trying to cross the tape line. There had been a murder inside an apartment building next to the one I was visiting. I was on a case, and the tape wasn’t there at the other building when I entered my client’s building, but it was there when I walked out. People full of justification strolled up to the tape, lifted it, and began walking over to the officer demanding entry because they lived there. That justification quickly evaporated from their faces when the officer informed them that since they had entered a homicide scene, they may have to testify in the trial as to why they invaded a clearly marked crime scene.
While walking back to the bus, the ambulance with its shrilling siren drove through the entrance and stopped at the front of the building. I began to wonder whether or not the rest area had security cameras. If there were cameras, could they see anything in this terrible misty, foggy weather?
Back on the bus, I sat up front with Lemmonee. She was distraught with grief. She had worked for Brightness for nine years and had known Duffy the entire six years he worked for Brightness. Lemmonee reminded me of Rebbie, though she was shorter at five feet five inches tall, an inch shorter than me. Their facial features and hair were so similar that I had to ask if they were related. They were not. Lemmonee was usually bubbly and had the perfect personality for a tour guide—personable, friendly, and outgoing.
“Duffy and I do at least two tours together every year. The company likes to switch up the tour guides so that we get to work with every bus driver. Duffy was my favorite. He was so funny and comical, as you saw. He kept all of you laughing throughout the tour. Vett, who would do something like this?”
“Lemmonee, I don’t know, but the state troopers will find out. Why don’t you put on your coat?” I had noticed her shivering.
“No, I’m fine. I wish they would let us get on our way home.”
Lemmonee’s remarks had brought back several unforgettable memories of the William Shatner lookalike Duffy (Shatner was the actor who played attorney Denny Crane on the Boston Legal TV series). Duffy was a bit taller than me. I guessed him to be five feet seven or eight inches tall, and he probably weighed about 180 pounds. Just a few hours ago, he was telling jokes in his Southern charm manner. He had a joke about almost everything the passengers talked about. He certainly had acquired a lot of funny jokes, and his deliverance was impeccable. I had estimated his age to be between the mid to late fifties.
At 10:55 pm, an hour after Duffy’s body was found, three troopers, Jackson, and Carter came onto the bus. Jackson was very consoling as he provided information to us.
“Brightness family, as you’ve heard, Duffy has been found murdered in the maintenance room. I know you all are feeling sadness as Carter, Lemmonee, and I are. The state police will find out who did this horrific thing. I apologize profusely to you for having to be sequestered on the bus for so long. Many of you who have traveled with us before know nothing like this has ever happened before to Brightness. Please be patient a little longer as the troopers need to question each of you. Once they are finished with their questioning, Carter will drive you to your drop-off locations. The troopers want me to mention that they will probably need to speak to all of you again at a later date. So please be cooperative. I thank you for your understanding and patience. I promise to keep you all in the loop with the information I am allowed to share.”
Jackson cleared his throat and then handed the microphone to one of the troopers, who introduced himself as Trooper Dryden’s Sergeant and told us what information they needed from us. The three of them then divided themselves among the passengers in sections: one began questioning passengers at the front of the bus, one in the middle, and Trooper Dryden’s Sergeant began at the rear. Jackson had brought with him several copies of the passenger manifest and gave one to each trooper before they started their questioning. Jackson and Carter stood patiently at the front of the bus.
Since I was sitting at the front of the bus with Lemmonee, we were one of the firsts to be questioned. The trooper asked the same questions to both of us, and our answers were the same:
Where were you when you realized your bus driver was missing? Answer: Standing alongside the bus.
Did you see or hear anything strange or out of the ordinary while using the restroom, walking to the restroom, outside around the restroom, or walking back to the bus? Answer: No.
Do you know who committed Duffton Radley’s death? Answer: No.
Is there anything you can tell me regarding Duffton Radley’s death? Answer: No. There is nothing to disclose.
After the trooper had moved a couple of rows away from us, I heard Jackson and Carter whispering.
Jackson whispered, “Duffy’s body was riddled with gunshots. Who would do that to him?”
“I don’t know,” Carter whispered back. “Poor Nancy. What are you going to tell her?”
“Nothing like this has ever happened before to Brightness in the thirty-three years we’ve been in business. I don’t know how to handle this,” Jackson whispered.
“Neither do I,” Carter replied.
They abruptly stopped whispering. I assumed they realized their whispering was not as quiet as they thought and that Lemmonee and I heard every word they said. They
saw the stares of annoyance on our faces. Now was not the time to talk about their shortcomings. Making the passengers feel safe and secure was what was most important.
An hour later, we were on our way home with Carter in the driver’s seat. Danville was the last drop off location. We arrived there at 3:25 am. The Purples dragged their luggage and dreary tired bodies to their vehicles and drove off the parking lot. We were too tired to assemble for even a few minutes to discuss the reason for our being sequestered—murder.
CHAPTER 2
When I walked into my home, I was too tired to share the night’s final events with my husband, Gam. I had called him three times with updates while sequestered. When I awoke at 9:00 am, he had already left for his Saturday morning workout at the sheriff’s gym. I had slept past my 6:00 am treadmill workout session without once waking up and dozing back to sleep.
Out of nowhere Serenity Bed, Breakfast and Dinner popped into my mind. I would be there one week from today’s date, April 8, 2006, surrounded in chocolates, sparkling wine, and home-cooked breakfasts and dinners with Gam for three days. Gam’s job, a Pittsylvania County Sheriff Detective, had kept him busy on most weekends since January. When he told me a month ago, he had put in to be off on my fifty-fourth birthday weekend, and where he was taking me, I was elated. I felt no joy now. Desolation slowly overcame me.
Last night was a wretched affair. For what reason would someone murder a man and leave his body in the maintenance room, I wondered.
“Snap out of it. You can’t solve all the ills of the world,” I said out loud.
I jumped out of bed, headed to take a shower, but the nagging question I had while the troopers questioned us last night and on the way home surfaced again—why didn’t any of us passengers hear the gun shots? Jackson had said Duffy’s body was riddled with gunshots. Was it really just several gunshots, as Carter had said, or were there more? The way Jackson used the word “riddled” conjured up more than several in my mind.
I had seen the crime scene, somewhat. The body was inside the maintenance room. The officers on both sides of the door blocked my view into the room. The bus was parked on the northern end of the building. Nevertheless, we should have heard the gunshots or something similar to a car backfiring.
The rest area building was the typical Virginia rest area small structure with three alcoves in the front; it was not a full-service plaza. It had two public restrooms, one for men and one for women, a maintenance room, a picnic/grill area, trash receptacles in the picnic area, and pay telephones and vendors machines on the outside front of the building. The parking lot was not huge, nor did it need to be.
I turned on the shower just as the phone rang. I ran back to my bedroom to answer it.
“Hello.”
“Is this Vett Brayborn?”
“Yes, it is. Who am I speaking to?”
“Vett, this is Jackson Stevens from Brightness Bus Tours.
“Hi, Jackson. How are you?”
“I am fine. How are you today? I again apologize for the sequestering you had to go through last night. Nothing like this has happened to Brightness before.”
“Jackson, I’m fine. Really, I am. I don’t blame you. Under the circumstance, I know it couldn’t be helped.”
“Lemmonee said you would be understanding. My reason for calling so early is that Brightness wants to hire you. Lemmonee believes you can help us get in front of this situation quickly.”
“Why do you want to get in front of it quickly? Hold on for a moment. I was just about to jump into the shower when you called. Let me turn the shower off . . . . Okay, I’m back.” I sat on the edge of the bed, eagerly awaiting Jackson’s answer.
“We want to get in front of it to protect the company. I’ve just gotten off a 7:00 am emergency conference call with the board of directors and Lemmonee. We all completely trust the state police to find out who did this horrible thing. However, we know your background and believe you can get answers quickly. The quicker we get a handle on this and bring it to a conclusion, the quicker we can quell any negative talk that would put Brightness in a negative position. I want to mitigate damage to the company. I believe you can help us.”
“Jackson, some negative talk and damage are to be expected in situations like this. You’re going to be damned if you do and damned if you don’t. Even when the company is vindicated by the media, there will be people who think Brightness didn’t do enough to prevent Duffy’s death. There are going to be some people who are afraid to travel with Brightness again. You should expect that some damage will surface in the form of lost revenue.”
“I understand that, Vett. But there is something about Duffy I don’t think you know.”
“What is it?”
“Have you heard of the Lacecap Hydrangea Murders that took place in 1996?”
“Vaguely. The murders took place in Martinsville, right?”
“No, in Envyton County, west of Martinsville. Mildred Lloyd, better known as Ms. Lacecap, was found murdered in her parlor on the first floor of her Envyton brothel. As best the medical examiner could tell, Ms. Lacecap died at 10:00 pm, Sunday, January 28. Sunday was the only day of the week she did not conduct business. She was stabbed to death. The homicide detectives think the incident was a robbery gone badly since the entire inside of the house was ransacked. Ms. Lacecap was known to keep a beautiful and clean house, and she was thought to have kept large sums of money in her house because of the nature of her business.”
“What do you mean by the nature of her business? Was she really a madam? She really ran a house where men paid for prostitutes?”
“Yes, Vett. By many accounts, she was a nice lady. She was Black, heavy-set, sixty-five years old, never married, and loved lacecap hydrangeas. In the summer and fall, beautiful colorful lacecap hydrangeas bloomed all around her house. She was known to create beautiful arrangements of the flowers and give them to people. Arrangements were placed inside her house and on her front porch, too. There were only two things she loved more than her hydrangeas, her daughter Sybil Lloyd and her niece Diantha Lloyd. Diantha was the daughter of her younger unmarried sister who died giving birth to her.”
“Wait, I know the name, Sybil. That name was mentioned on the bus last night in regards to getting revenge on Duffy.”
“Duffy was married to Sybil at the time, though they were separated. Sybil kept her maiden name after they were married. She was one of those feminist women, always involved in fighting for women to have the same rights as men. She and the rest of her family believe Duffy had something to do with Ms. Lacecap’s murder because he had a close relationship with the two men seen running away from the house at the time of the murder. Diantha had seen Duffy talking with the two men the day before. Duffy was arrested. Three years after the murder, a judge acquitted him of all wrong doing, citing the case against him was based largely on circumstantial evidence. The two men seen running away from the house were convicted of the murder. Sybil claims they stole $10,000 from her mother, but the money was never recovered.”
“Where were Sybil and Diantha at the time of the murder?”
“They were both at Sybil’s house watching TV. They were cleared of the murder.”
“I gather the two men that were convicted didn’t settle the score for Sybil and her family?”
“Well, it may have been if Diantha had not been murdered in August of that same year. Sybil, forty-five at the time, and Diantha, thirty at the time, were raised as sisters. They took over the brothel business after Ms. Lacecap was murdered. It is my understanding they did quite well for the six months after Ms. Lacecap’s murder. After Diantha’s murder, Sybil let the business go. She just closed shop.”
“Wow, to lose your mother and sister in a matter of months. This must have devastated Sybil.”
“From what I heard, it did. Diantha, I think, is the main reason the community shunned Duffy. She was
a beauty, very shapely, and known for her surgically-enhanced breasts. She was found deceased on the morning of August 11th in some wooded area in the park where she was known to jog and take walks. The cause of death was determined to be blunt force trauma to the back of her head. And she was also raped. Since a bouquet of hydrangeas was found near her body, it is believed she was meeting someone.”
“I gather no one has come forward claiming to be meeting her?”
“That’s right. No one has ever come forward. Before her death, Duffy had been heard several times making sexual advances to her and trying to have sex with her. She was heard several times turning him down and spewing names at him such as ‘You disgusting piece of shit.’ Please excuse the bad language.”
“No problem. Were there no other places for him to find a woman? He should have stayed far away from that family after being acquitted.”
“I agree with you. From what I understand, they were a very close-knit family. They believe Duffy murdered Diantha and has gotten away with it. He’s never been arrested for her murder. And they believe he was involved in the murder of Ms. Lacecap for the $10,000 that is missing. Many people in Envyton County and outside of the county, too, believe Duffy was involved in both murders. No one has been arrested for Diantha’s murder. In my opinion, it is a cold case because the police don’t seem to be working on it. Duffy tried to find a job in Envyton County for about a year after he was acquitted of Ms. Lacecap’s murder. No one would hire him. He moved to Attribute after I hired him. I had sympathy for him and hired him in 2000. As part of my Christian men’s ministry, I run a program called Boaz Fields, where skills are taught to help certain men who were incarcerated re-enter their communities successfully. Though Duffy was never found guilty of either murder, he still needed my help.”
Sequestered with the Murderers Page 2