Sequestered with the Murderers

by Dr. Sandra Tanner

  “What do you mean?”

  “Joe, Holt Junior, and Carolyn all live in Envyton County where the murder occurred, and all have a selective memory or a vague memory of the events. They didn’t know the murdered victims and only knew of Duffy. They didn’t know either of the victims personally.”

  “I assume Joe and Holt Junior didn’t know Carolyn, and Carolyn didn’t know them.”

  “Correct.”

  “Not unusual. Not everyone living in the same county knows everybody else.”

  “True, true, but Carolyn is not telling the truth. For one thing, her version of what Marjorie said when she walked to the back of the bus contradicts Solardette’s version.”

  “Tell me again the two versions.”

  “Carolyn claims Marjorie said, ‘I am so glad we are on our way home.’ Solardette claims she said, ‘Where is the gun?’”

  “Two totally different statements.”

  “Yeah. No way to get them confused. I do think Solardette heard incorrectly. I don’t think anyone would break the rule and bring a gun onto the bus. At least I hope not.”

  “You never know about certain people.”

  “Another thing that’s got me in a quandary is Joe and Holt Junior standing outside in the cold, foggy, and misty weather chitchatting and stretching their legs. The weather was horrible that night. I can’t see anyone doing that. I didn’t see them doing that. I used the ladies’ room, then rushed back to the bus.”

  “So by what you just said, it’s possible that everyone did the same thing you did—rushed back to bus, and was more focused on getting back on the bus than on their surroundings,” Gam mused.

  “True, true.”

  “So, what do you have?”

  “My inner voice has told me that Joe and Holt Junior had a purpose for standing out there, and they weren’t standing outside by themselves. My inner voice is always right.”

  “But where does this take you?”

  “To two things. First, they were doing as they claimed—stretching their legs. They are both tall men and perhaps were somewhat cramped on the bus. Second, they were out there for a covert reason.”

  “You’re letting your imagination run wild with that second scenario. Where is the proof?” Gam asked.

  “My inner voice. They had a purpose for standing outside in horrible weather. They were not alone. So far, the people I’ve asked about seeing them didn’t see them out there. No one saw them, and no one saw anybody else standing outside.”

  “Who all did you ask?”

  “Lemmonee, Carolyn, Dimma, and Solardette. And I didn’t see them.”

  “But Joe and Holt Junior said they were out there.”

  “Exactly! Why go through the trouble to make it known?”

  “Uh, in case someone noticed you out there.”

  “Exactly!”

  “Your deduction reasoning is on point?” Gam said, with a big smile on his face.

  “Some type of covert operation was going on, but what.”

  Just then, my phone rang.

  “Let me get this: then we will continue.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Hello.”

  “Vett, it’s Jackson. How are you?”

  “In good spirits. Gam and I are on the road to Roanoke to Serenity Bed, Breakfast and Dinner.”

  “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I thought I would telephone you as soon as possible.”

  “What bad news?” My voice rose a few decibels. Gam turned and looked at me.

  “There is no easy way to say this. Gwen Sonnack committed suicide.”

  “She did what!”

  “What’s going on, Baby,” Gam asked.

  “Gwen Sonnack committed suicide,” I whispered.

  “Why did she do this?” I asked Jackson.

  “Nobody knows. A rumor of her suicide was floating around at the funeral this afternoon. A man from my Boaz Fields group was at the funeral and told me he heard the rumor. I confirmed it with Sheriff Hobbs.”

  “Are you sure she committed suicide?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “When did she do this?”

  “Her body was found last evening.”

  “Who found the body?”

  “I don’t know that yet. I’ve told you everything I know.”

  “How did she commit suicide?”

  “I don’t know. Sheriff Hobbs doesn’t know for sure yet, but it’s looking like an overdose of medication. It’s too soon for anybody to know much of anything yet. If I hear anything more, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks, Jackson. I appreciate the call.”

  “Lemmonee telephoned me to see how the funeral went. I gave her the news about Gwen. She said you had left Gwen several telephone messages. I had forgotten that you had. Lemmonee asked me to telephone you with the news.”

  “Yeah, I did. I wanted her to corroborate information Carolyn gave me. Wow, this is so shocking. I am at a loss for words.”

  “Vett, if you need me, call me. Sorry to provide you with such horrible news on your mini-vacation,” Jackson said.

  “Thanks for letting me know, Jackson.”

  “Enjoy your vacation, Vett.”

  “Oh, by the way, how was the funeral?”

  “It was as expected. Rev. Ronda gave a very comforting speech on Nancy’s behalf. The pastor’s eulogy was nice, and I think my speech went over well. Duffy will be missed. You take care, Vett.”

  “One last question, did you go to the burial?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Anyone there out of the ordinary?” I had read and heard of cases where the murderer showed up at the burial. The murderer most likely will not intermingle with family and friends but may watch from a distance. Those who have studied this phenomenon believe this is a way for the murderer to relish and relive the crime. Because I know this, when I attend burials, I’m in the habit of looking around me. It doesn’t matter whether or not the deceased was murdered.

  “Always working the case, aren’t you? No one caught my eye. Some of the same people that were at the viewing last night and at the funeral today were at the burial.”

  “Okay, thanks, Jackson. Take care.”

  “You, too.”

  While clicking off the phone, I said to Gam, “What the hell is going on?”

  “Calm down, Baby. Tell me what Jackson said.”

  I relayed the news to Gam exactly the way Jackson relayed it to me. He then took hold of my hand.

  “What in the world is going on? I didn’t read this in Gwen. She’s not the type to commit suicide,” I lamented.

  “Everything will be alright, Baby. There are tissues in the glove compartment.”

  I didn’t realize I was crying.

  “What other freaking thing is going to happen concerning this case,” I shouted as I opened the glove compartment, then fumbled around for the tissues.

  After wiping away my tears, I said, “Gwen was a sweet woman and vivacious. You know the type I am talking about.”

  “Just like my mother.”

  “Exactly. Now that I think about it, she was probably your mother’s age.”

  “I am sorry to hear she committed suicide.”

  “I didn’t see this coming, Gam.”

  “Baby, no one expected you to.”

  “Now, do you believe Gwen was involved somehow?”

  Instead of Gam answering me, my inner voice spoke. Gwen was involved.

  CHAPTER 19

  I didn’t tell Gam I had had a revelation. Instead, I leaned against the windowpane and began to doubt my assessment of Gwen. Did I entirely misread her personality? Were the vigor, energy, and high spirits she exhibited a cover-up. I really thought I saw through the heavy makeup she wore.

  The Tenne
ssee trip had been perfect, of course, except for the journey home. At the beginning of the trip, we left Christiansburg, Virginia, the last pickup location, then headed south on Interstate 81. Lemmonee had been the perfect tour guide, frequently using the microphone to break into our stares out of the bus windows at the beautiful scenery, providing sightseeing information and tidbits.

  The views of the Blue Ridge Mountains were spectacular.

  “The mountains have a bluish color. Trees and the isoprene, which is released in the air, make up the bluish color,” Lemmonee explained. “Isoprene is unsaturated hydrocarbon produced by plants, animals, and some trees.”

  “Look at these pictures, Vett. These mountains are beautiful,” Dimma exclaimed as she held up her wide opened Blue Ridge Mountains map in front of me.

  “Wow, these are breathtaking.” Three particular pictures held my attention more than the others. One contained a sunset with the mountains in the foreground. The sunset had shades of purples, blues, yellows, and oranges—a picture with my favorite colors and once enlarged and framed would look good on my office wall. The second one contained a different angle of the mountains with the same colors, but the yellow sun was peeking over one of the mountain tops. The rays from the peeking sun made the picture gorgeous. The third was green rolling mountains with different size green trees everywhere and a blue haze sky in the background. In the foreground was a bunch of vivid crimson red flowers.

  “The mountains range extend 550 miles from Pennsylvania through Maryland, West Virginia, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, and Georgia,” Lemmonee’s voice resounded through the microphone. She then began providing facts on the mountains.

  As Lemmonee gave us passengers a factual lesson on the mountains, Duffy drove us into Wytheville, Virginia, to the hotel hosting our first night stay. We toured Wytheville, where we learned that due to Wytheville’s location in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, it is known as “The Hub of Southwest Virginia” and as “The Crossroads of the Blue Ridge.” We also learned that Wytheville was named for George Wythe, a signer of the Declaration of Independence and a mentor to Thomas Jefferson. I didn’t get a chance to talk to Gwen or Carolyn that day in Wytheville, but we did acknowledge each other with a smile while at dinner that evening.

  The next morning after breakfast, we left Wytheville headed to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, where we stayed for three nights. Dimma and I did not have a lot of time to congregate and converse with the others that morning at breakfast because after waking, I telephoned Gam, talking with him longer than I had intended to. Gam’s son Trevor asked to borrow money again, and Gam wanted my opinion on how to handle the matter.

  I must say that Trevor continually borrowing money from Gam has tainted my impression of him. When I first met Trevor, I saw a focused, ambitious, and self-actualized young man. Self-actualization, I learned from Abraham Maslow’s theory of self-actualization, means, “The desire for self-fulfillment, namely the tendency for the person to become actualized in her/his potential. This tendency might be phrased as the desire to become more and more what one is, to become everything that one is capable of.” This constant borrowing of money meant he had deceived me, or I had misread what I saw in him.

  Perhaps my reading of people needed improving.

  In any case, I related to Gam that he should proceed with the loan if he is okay with loaning the money and not because of some sense of obligation. I told him the money was his to do as he pleased, but if he wants to make Trevor more responsible, then at some point, he will have to put his foot down. I had said these things to him before. I knew Gam telling me about the loan was his way of keeping me abreast of what was going on with him and his sons and that he would do what he thought best.

  By the time I showered and dressed it was 8:15 am. I had told Dimma to go on to breakfast without me, but she chose to wait for me. Breakfast was served from 6:00 am -10:00 am. The bus was leaving the hotel at 9:00 am.

  We rushed down to the restaurant, grabbed a plate of eggs, bacon, toast, and juice, and then ate quickly. We were on the bus before the 9:00 am deadline.

  Duffy drove us on time to the restaurant in Pigeon Forge, where a buffet lunch was waiting for us. Dimma and I were sitting in the middle of the bus the entire trip. On all other trips, the Purples had taken with Brightness, which were more than two days long, the tour guide rotated seating each day. This enabled all passengers to have a different seat, a different view out of the bus windows, and a different time exiting the bus. Lemmonee did not do this on the Tennessee trip, which was fine with me. However, it usually meant there was a line at the ladies’ rooms and a line at the restaurants by the time Dimma and I exited the bus.

  We had used the restroom, selected food from the buffet line, and found a seat at a long table with Solardette and Jean when Carolyn and Gwen walked to our table.

  “May we join you, Carolyn asked?”

  “Sure you can,” I said.

  After introductions were made, Gwen asked in her modulated beautiful voice, “Are you all in some type of group. I’ve seen you and the ladies at those two tables beside us conversing several times.”

  “We are,” I said.

  “We are in an investment club Vett founded eighteen years ago, eighteen years this June,” Solardette said. “Our name is the Purple Calla Lily Investment Group, Purples for short.”

  “We’ve always wanted to be in an investment club,” Gwen said. “Carolyn and I have talked about finding a club to join many times but didn’t take it any further.”

  “Yeah, we have,” Carolyn said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “Then you should do it. Find a few like-minded women and learn how to invest together,” I said

  “We didn’t know anything about investing when we started. We did a lot of research and learning together,” Dimma said.

  “I don’t know if we can get our friends to commit,” Gwen said quickly.

  “She’s right,” Carolyn said, nodding her head.

  “Then you two begin a group together,” Jean said.

  “Why did you want to start an investment group, Vett?” Gwen asked.

  “I give credit to my finance professor in my master’s program class. He did a lecture on investment groups. When he said, ‘Investing is something you all must do, and as I have lectured, you don’t need a whole lot of money to begin. Invest your money together.’ I was hooked. I got information from the National Association of Investment Clubs, then presented it to my friends. We are now fifteen ladies strong.”

  “I take it you’ve made money, or you wouldn’t still be together,” Carolyn said.

  “We have, but it takes work, and a lot of work goes into setting up an investment group,” I explained.

  “But it is worth it,” Dimma said.

  I took another bite of food, chewed, swallowed, and then said, “We all are happy to help you get started when you get ready to start a club.”

  “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind. I have everyone’s contact information from the passenger telephone list Lemmonee gave us,” Gwen said eagerly.

  Gwen and Carolyn continued to ask investment club questions through lunch. When we were finished eating, Jean asked, “Is everyone going shopping?”

  The answer was a resounding yes from everyone. The restaurant was at one end of the shopping center outlet. We walked out of the restaurant together to the entrance to the stores. Each pair of people—Carolyn and Gwen, Solardette and Jean, Dimma and I—parted ways and went into different stores on the same side of the shopping center.

  We could shop until 3:30 pm since our hotel check-in time was 4:00 pm, and the hotel was less than a quarter of a mile from the outlet.

  It was outside one of the stores that Dimma and I saw Carolyn and Gwen sitting on a bench quarreling with one another.

  “I wonder what that is all about,” I said.


  “I don’t know,” Dimma replied.

  We were two stores down from where they were sitting. They were facing in our direction. Carolyn put her hand on Gwen’s arm and said something, then Gwen brushed it away and shook her head rapidly several times. She began twisting her hands together and looking at Carolyn with a doe-eyed stare. From where we were standing, it looked like Gwen was shouting, “No, no.”

  “Let’s ask if we can help,” I said. We both began walking toward them. Carolyn saw us, then whispered something to Gwen.

  “Is anything wrong,” I asked upon approaching them.

  “Oh, no. Gwen has had one of her anxiety attacks. It won’t last long. She has them from time to time.”

  “Gwen, would you like some water? I have a bottle in my bag,” Dimma asked.

  “No, no. I am fine now. Thank you, Dimma,” Gwen replied.

  “Gwen, you look a little flustered. Are you sure we can’t help in some way?” I asked.

  “I’m fine. Really I am. We were just about to go into the lingerie store. I do need a new full black slip,” Gwen said as she stood up.

  “Alright then. Enjoy your shopping,” I said as Dimma and I turned to walk away.

  “Thank you for your concern. We’ll see you on the bus,” Carolyn said.

  This was the only time I saw Gwen down in the dumps. For the rest of the trip, she was bubbly, energetic, and high-spirited.

  Dimma and I were already seated on the bus when Carolyn and Gwen walked on. Gwen stopped by my seat, then said, “I got a good deal on two full slips. You ladies should have come into the lingerie store with us. There were all kinds of bargains.”

  “Now, I wish we had. I’m glad you found what you were looking for,” I said.

  “I think we spent enough money. We both got a great deal on handbags,” Dimma said.

  “Yes, we did. So good that Dimma bought two of the same handbags, a brown one and a beige one. They are beautiful and big, the kind we like. I’m thinking I should have bought the brown one, too,” I said.

  “I told you to get it. What is it that you tell me? When you see it, get it. It may not be there when you go back for it,” Dimma said.