Sequestered with the Murderers

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Sequestered with the Murderers Page 6

by Dr. Sandra Tanner


  I looked at the “marks and wounds” section more closely than when I looked at it in the conference room. One bullet had pierced the heart, and the six other bullet holes were spaced almost symmetrically around the one that had pierced the heart. The picture looked like someone had been throwing darts, and only one hit the bullseye. There were some additional pages attached. I read the next page. There was a note that said, “Victim has the sickle cell trait.” The note was highlighted. I had a black and white copy of the preliminary report, so the highlighted area showed up in a gray tone.

  Duffy was White, or so I thought. Sickle cell anemia and sickle cell trait were found in people of color, of African descent. If I remembered correctly, for a child to have the sickle cell trait, a parent had to pass on the trait to the child. I then remembered that White people could have the sickle cell trait, too.

  I was still engrossed in thought when Lemmonee walked back into the office.

  “Vett, here are the items you wanted, and here is your check.”

  “Lemmonee, did Duffy ever mention he had the sickle cell trait?”

  “Don’t only Black people have that?”

  “No, White people can have it too. It says in Duffy’s autopsy that he had the sickle cell trait.”

  “No, he never mentioned he had it to me. Nancy may know more about that. Why don’t you go see her today? Jackson has told her all about you.”

  “I think that is a good idea.”

  “I can go with you if you would like me to.”

  “No problem there. Would you call her and make the appointment while I look through these other items and Duffy’s personnel file?”

  “Sure thing. I will be back in a moment.”

  In less than five minutes, Lemmonee was back in the office.

  “Vett, Nancy can’t see you today. She won’t be home for the rest of the day. She can see you early tomorrow morning if you can stay over one more night. The only thing is, I can’t go with you tomorrow. I am off tomorrow and have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning. I can give you directions to her house. It’s easy to find.”

  I had felt a gnawing inside of me since the meeting ended, telling me I need to stay in Attribute longer. I gave in, answered the gnawing in the affirmative as I knew I would eventually. Thank God I was in the habit of packing more clothes than needed for a one-day trip.

  “Okay, I can do it. Would you make the appointment with her for 9:00 am tomorrow? And would you call the hotel and rebook me for another night.”

  “No problem, I’ll take care of everything. I’ll be back in a moment.”

  I really was pleased to stay another night. Sty was not at the hotel desk this morning when I checked out. Staying another night would provide another chance for me to see her and explain who I was. With that settled, I closed the autopsy file and opened up the police report. I skimmed through it. Nothing was in it that surprised me. I closed it and opened the folder with the list of passengers that were on the Tennessee trip. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I found an improbability the third time I read the list.

  CHAPTER 6

  As I do in all my cases, I keep most of my findings to myself until I am led to do otherwise. There are some details I must divulge to get additional information. Keeping most of my findings to myself, I’ve learned, is an excellent practice, though some clients think otherwise and beg for snippets or scraps of information all through my investigation. Jackson had explicitly asked me to provide a report to him every other day. I was willing to do this, but the information I provide him would be limited and selective.

  I sat there for ten minutes pondering the improbability of people living in the same zip code not making that information known to each other when they end up in a close-knit environment such as a motor coach bus tour. The Purples and I had met and conversed with the four passengers we had never met before from the Danville area. Come to find out, we all knew some of the same people.

  I decided I had had enough pondering. I stood up from my seat with the passenger list folder in hand and then decided to go find Lemmonee. She appeared at the door just as I was about to walk through it.

  Startled, she asked, “Vett, is everything okay?”

  “Everything is okay. I was in a hurry to get some information from you, so I was on my way to find you.”

  “What is it that you need? Nancy will see you tomorrow morning at 9:00, and here are directions to her house. It’s only a fifteen-minute drive from the hotel. She is not quite sold on Jackson hiring you. She thinks the police are quite capable of finding who murdered her husband, so be prepared for some antagonism from her. And a room has been booked for you at the hotel.”

  “Thank you, Lemmonee. I appreciate you doing that for me. I would think she would be glad for the help. I’m of the mentality that two heads are better than one. Thanks for the heads up. Now, would you sit down a minute and put a checkmark beside the first-time passengers?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. I know them by heart. Tour guide training 101, know your guests. I always want to make sure my guests feel special, especially first-timers. So I spend a little more time getting to know them and finding ways to be of assistance. Let’s see here.” Lemmonee took the list, sat down, and checked off eight names effortlessly. She then looked up at me, standing beside her.

  “That was fast,” I said while admiring her swift recall ability.

  “That was easy. Bill and Cora Forrester, Hettienne Jacobs, and Marianne Murphy are all from Christiansburg. Carolyn Broadbent and Gwen Sonnack are from Envyton County, the Martinsville area. And Delve and Justine Jones are from Blairs, your area—the Danville area.

  “Thanks, Lemmonee. That’s a big help.” She stared at me. I sensed her waiting for me to explain why I needed this information. I took the passenger list from her and walked to my seat. Seeing that I was not going to elaborate further, Lemmonee relaxed in her chair.

  “What else can I do to help?”

  “Give me information on Duffy. Who were his best friends? Who did he associate with on the job? Anything.”

  “Let’s see, uh, he loved animals. He has a dachshund that he treated like a child. He loved that dog. He once mentioned that he donates to PETA, you know that animal rights organization that works for the ethical treatment of animals. He had a wonderful sense of humor, as you saw during the Tennessee trip. He could make a joke out of anything. He had an adventurous attitude, and he loved and took an interest in meeting our passengers. He loved driving to Brightness different trip locations even if he had already been to that location before.”

  “How often did Nancy travel with him, and during your off time, did you socialize with them?”

  “Nancy may have taken three or four trips with him since they met. She’s only been on one of my trips where Duffy was the driver. None of us socialize much off-duty. After being on tour for five days, sometimes a lot more, sometimes less, I’m so glad to be home that I chill. I think all the drivers and tour guides pretty much do the same—just chill. I do things around the house, go to my doctor appointments, and prepare for the next tour. Don’t get me wrong; I love what I do. I think I have the best job in the world because I have been all over the United States and to Canada.”

  “Are you married? I don’t see a ring on your finger.”

  “Not anymore. I’m single with two grown daughters. They are doing well, and I am so proud of them. This coming Friday morning, I’m taking a group on Brightness’s Great Southwest & California Tour. I’ll be gone for nineteen days. I don’t know who my driver is yet because my scheduled driver, Armie Bledsoe, has asked that someone replace him so that he can attend Duffy’s funeral on Friday. I want to be off too, but there is no one at this time to replace me. I’ll attend the viewing Thursday night, though. Uh, Vett, Armie and Duffy are close friends. I mean were close friends. You want to talk with him?”

 
“Yeah, I do. Can you get his phone number for me?”

  “I’ll call him for you. He’s home this week.” Lemmonee stood, then quickly walked out of the room. After leaving the room, a thought came to me. Does she know the schedule of all the drivers?

  Duffy’s personnel file lying on the desk garnished my attention as I lay the passenger list folder beside it.

  “Let’s see if there is anything to learn in this,” I said out loud as I picked up the personnel file.

  The job description, job application, and W-4 form were paper-clipped together. Items following were a signed acknowledgment of receiving the company employee handbook, employee evaluations, commendations, raise in pay notices, a copy of his CDL license, and stapled to the front inside of the folder was emergency contact and next of kin information. The file was neat and organized. I wondered if the file had been cleaned up for my benefit.

  In one of my cases two years ago, a man’s personnel record came into question. During that case, I learned how important it is for a company to ensure that certain documents are maintained and updated in an employee’s personnel file. A company definitely shouldn’t keep anything in it that the company would not want a jury to see. A personnel file can hurt a company in a lawsuit, as it did in my case two years ago. If Duffy’s file was truly indicative of how Jackson manages personnel files, then it appears he had learned the rules of what should and should not go into personnel files.

  There was nothing useful in Duffy’s personnel file. I put it aside and opened the passenger list folder. I telephoned Marjorie Brown and left a detailed message that I wanted to meet with her tomorrow around noon. I asked her to call me back today to confirm. After meeting with Duffy’s wife Nancy tomorrow for an hour, I would then drive to Marjorie’s home in Envyton, which was on my way home, and be there by noon. Since Rebbie Shields lived in Envyton, too, I placed a call to her next. She didn’t pick up either. I left her a detailed message similar to the one I left Marjorie.

  I was deep in reviewing the list for the next person to call to setup a meeting when Lemmonee walked in.

  “Vett, you know it is way past lunchtime, don’t you. You look like you are deep in thought. Were you planning on stopping for lunch?”

  “My, how the time has flown. Is it really almost 2:00 pm?” I asked, looking at my watch.

  “It is. But I do have good news. Armie can meet with you today. In fact, he seemed very eager to meet with you. He was working in his shed. You know, he was trained in carpentry work and loves making furniture pieces. That’s his hobby. He’s going to clean himself up and meet you at the Attribute Country Diner at 3:00 pm for a late lunch. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Lemmonee, that’s perfect. I appreciate all your help. You have outdone yourself.”

  “Thank you. I aim to please. Montgomery, Jackson, and Lanta have already gone out for lunch. Jackson will probably be back in the office later on, but I doubt Montgomery and Lanta will return today. Do you have any questions for him?”

  “Oh, no. I’ll contact him on Wednesday as planned and address any questions that may surface with him then.”

  “Well, Armie said he would wait for you outside by the front door of the restaurant. He’s a Black man, heavy-set, about five feet eight inches tall. He’s taller than me. You’ll like him. He has a great smile.”

  “Thanks, Lemmonee.”

  “Okay. Is there is anything else I can do for you? If not, I’m going to leave for today. You have my phone number. Call me at any time.”

  “You’ve been most helpful. Here, take Duffy’s personnel file. I’ve finished reviewing it. I’m going to take the passenger list, police report, crime scene photo, and autopsy report with me.” I put the four folders into my bag, then pushed the chair back and stood. “If you give me a minute to freshen up in the ladies’ room, I will walk out with you.”

  “Oh, sure, take your time. I’ll put Duffy’s file back in the personnel drawer. When you are finished, come to the receptionist’s desk. I’ll meet you there.”

  Ten minutes later, we walked out of the office to a gray overcast day.

  “Vett, it was nice seeing you again. Call me any time.”

  “Thanks, Lemmonee. You have been a big help.”

  Lemmonee drove quickly off the lot. I then telephoned Gam, and we talked for twenty minutes. Afterward, I telephoned Dimma to provide her with a quick update.

  CHAPTER 7

  I arrived at the Attribute Diner at five minutes to three. As I drove past the front door to the parking lot, I paused to peer through my window, looking for Armie. He wasn’t there. I parked my Jeep, then walked back toward the door. Ahead of me, Armie crossed my line of vision. He caught sight of me, stopped, and then began walking toward me.

  “You must be Vett Brayborn. Lemmonee described you perfectly,” Armie said.

  “I am, and you must be Armie Bledsoe.”

  “I am indeed.” The cluster of keys Armie had in his hand jingled as he put the keys in his left hand and held out his right hand.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said as I shook his outstretched hand.

  “You, too.” I understand Jackson has got you looking into who murdered Duffy.”

  “Yeah, he has.”

  Reaching the front door, Armie held the door open for me. I walked the short distance to the hostess desk with Armie trailing along behind me. The restaurant inside was quite different from the way it was last night. The crowd noise was gone, and the place was almost empty.

  “Will there only be two in your party?” the young, petite, and pretty hostess asked. I was admiring her long braids and braided bun on top of her head.

  “Yes. Your braids are beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” the hostess said, her smile widening on her face.

  After seating us in a booth and leaving menus on the table, she said, “I’ll have some water brought to you right away.” Her customer service and friendliness were right on the money. Since I own a restaurant, I take a great deal of notice of other restaurants’ operations and their level of customer service.

  “So how are you going to find out who murdered Duffy before the police do?” Armie asked.

  “By doing the only thing I know to do—ask questions and delve deep into those things that stand out.”

  “I’ve heard about you. Is it true you found out who murdered your aunt and her millionaire boyfriend before the police did?”

  “It’s true.”

  “But how do you do it.”

  “I can’t explain it except to say it is a gift. The puzzle pieces are shown to me at different stages during my investigation, and I put them together. It is then that I know.”

  “That’s kind of, uh, weird. You want to make a selection before I answer your questions?”

  “Yes. Let’s do that.” I perused the menu and decided on baked chicken, potatoes and onions, and turnip greens. Since it was so late in the day, this meal would be my lunch and dinner. With that feat out of the way, I looked up at Armie, who was trying to read me. I know the signs anywhere since I make use of them, too.

  “You’re not bullshitting me, are you?” Armie asked

  I knew what he was asking. “Armie, I am who I am. With or without your help, I am going to find out who murdered your friend and why. I am going to do it. The only question I don’t have an answer to is when this will happen.”

  “Here are your waters. My name is Kit. I am your waiter today. Are you ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?” The waiter was six feet tall and had long braids pulled back into a ponytail. His smile was infectious.

  “I am ready. I’ll have the baked chicken, potatoes and onion, and turnip greens. And I’ll have a glass of iced tea.”

  “And for you, sir?” Kit asked.

  “I’ll have the pork chop meal with mashed potatoes and gravy and swiss chards. And I’ll
have a coke with my meal.”

  “Your meals are both excellent choices. You’ve come at a good time. This time of day is our slow period. So your meals won’t take long to prepare. I’ll put in your orders and bring your drinks right away.”

  As soon as the waiter walked away, Armie asked, “What is your first question?” His manner was brusque.

  “Where were you when Duffy was murdered?” I could be brusque, too. However, underneath his rough exterior, I saw trepidation. I didn’t think he could take my brusqueness.

  “I was dropping off passengers from a four-day tour in Cape May, New Jersey. Jackson told us that the police think he was murdered somewhere between 8:20 pm and 9:00 pm Friday. On Friday at 8:16 pm, I was in Richmond at my first-drop off location. My next drop-off was Charlottesville. I reached the drop-off at 9:30 pm. From there, I drove to Staunton, my last-drop off, the Frontier Hotel. It took me fifty minutes to get there. I got there at 10:20 pm. After everyone had embarked and collected their luggage, I parked the bus in our designated space at the hotel, then spent the night in the hotel. When I got back to the office Saturday morning to turn in my paperwork, that’s when Jackson told me about Duffy.”

  “Can anyone verify that you spent the night in the Frontier Hotel?”

  Stunned, Armie froze, then shouted, “What the fuck? Do I need someone to verify that?”

  “Just asking. I take it no one can, but you have a receipt showing the room was charged to Brightness’s account.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Who did you call while you were in the hotel?”

  “Just my wife. We talked for an hour, and then I went to sleep.”

  The waiter came and deposited our drinks in front of us. I took a sip, and so did Armie.

 

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