Murder in Mystic Grove

by S F Bose

  “Okay, the day of the murder, did you personally see Damian Fletcher at the Emporium?”

  Finn flicked me a look. “I did.”

  “Tell us what happened that day.”

  Finn took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’d been following Damian for weeks in my spare time, hoping to catch him in something we could use as leverage.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Having an affair with someone. Meeting shady people. I wanted anything that we could use to get him to agree to divorce Sherrie.”

  “But it was a Monday. Shouldn’t he have been out of town?” Sam asked, twirling his pen.

  “I asked Sherrie about that later. He told her that morning he was driving to Chicago in the evening on business. So I just figured he planned to leave later.”

  “Okay, go on,” I prodded.

  “That day, I saw him leave the Fletcher Enterprises parking lot.”

  “What time did he leave the building?” asked Sam.

  “It was 4:00 p.m. I checked my watch,” Finn replied. Sam and I glanced at each other. Damian left Fletcher Enterprises two hours later than he had said.

  “Then what happened?” I asked.

  “I trailed Fletcher to Mystic Grove until he pulled into the East Parking Lot. He parked in the north end of the lot. I parked in the small lot east of this building. Then I scrunched down in the seat and cracked my window a little. I had a clear view of the East Lot, the Emporium, and the Saucy Shop.”

  “Damian never saw you?”

  Finn snorted. “Nah. He’s much too self-absorbed. Also, I was always careful to hang back. He usually drives a Benz, but lately he’s been driving a restored, black 1964 Mustang. Sweet car and easy to follow in a crowd.”

  I nodded. “Okay, then what?”

  “He walked south in the lot until he was at the intersection of Bridge Road and Founders Road. He crossed Founders Road and walked past the Saucy Shop, and on to the Emporium. He went up the porch and rang the bell.

  Sam leaned forward, arms folded on his desk. “What was he wearing?”

  “Wearing? Let me think.” Finn looked down and then closed his eyes. “He was dressed in dark-colored clothes. He had a floppy hat, long coat with the collar up, dark pants, and was carrying a bag on a shoulder strap.” Finned opened his eyes and looked at me.

  “What kind of bag?”

  Finn gave me a sour look. “All I remember is it was black.”

  I shot a glance at Sam. That was Angela’s description of the man she saw leaving the Emporium.

  “What?” Finn asked sharply.

  “Nothing. What happened next?” I asked.

  “Fletcher waited on the front porch. Oh! Wait a minute,” Finn said, sitting straighter. “He had gloves on too.”

  “Okay, good,” I replied.

  “So a tall guy with a goatee opened the front door and let him in. Dark hair and glasses too I think.”

  “That was Justin Church. Do you remember what time it was?”

  “I know Fletcher got there around 4:25. I kept checking my watch because I had to be in Madison by 6:00 to meet Sherrie.”

  “You saw Sherrie that night?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Finn replied, his chin jutting up defiantly.

  “Did you spend the night with her?”

  “Well aren’t you the cheeky one. If you must know, yes I did.” There was anger in Finn’s voice.

  I held up my hand and looked at Sam. “Damian lied. He has no alibi for the afternoon or evening of the murder. He wasn’t with Sherrie from Monday afternoon on like he said. Damian told us he left the office around 2:00 p.m. Newmont reported that Sherrie said Damian was with her from 2:15 p.m. on. If Finn is telling the truth, they both lied. Damian actually left Fletcher Enterprises at 4:00 p.m. and went to the Emporium. Damian also wasn’t with Sherrie that evening because she was with Finn.”

  Sam nodded. “You’re telling the truth?” he asked Finn, who turned beet red.

  “I am!” he replied.

  “You have any evidence like receipts?” Sam asked more sharply.

  “Yes!” Finn shouted. “And Sherrie lied for good reason.”

  “We’ll get to that. Let’s go back to the day of the murder. Fletcher went into the Emporium. How long was he in there?” I asked.

  Finn shook his head. “I don't know. I never saw him come out.”

  “Damian went in the front door but didn’t come out that way?” Sam asked.

  Finn shook his head. “While I was there, he never came out the front door.”

  “So Damian was in the Emporium with Justin. Did anything else happen?” I asked.

  “A little later, another guy went to the front door of the Emporium and rang the doorbell. Then he pounded on the door.”

  “What did he look like?” Sam asked.

  Finn exhaled loudly and narrowed his eyes. “Tall, big shoulders and chest.”

  “Wearing?” I prompted.

  “He wore a hat with a brim, long, dark coat, dark pants, gloves, and also had a dark bag over his shoulder.” The description was almost identical to Finn’s description of Damian.

  “You’re sure about these details? It was dark already, right?” Sam asked.

  “It was dark. But the outside lights in the front of the Emporium made it easy to see. There were street lights on Bridge Road too.”

  “Did you get an arrival time on him?” asked Sam.

  “No, I’d be guessing. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes after Fletcher got there. I don’t know,” Finn said.

  “So the second guy was pounding on the door. Then what?” I asked.

  “He put down his bag and took off a glove. It looked like he made a couple of calls on his cellphone. He was angry and paced on the porch. He pounded on the door some more. Then he made another cellphone call. Finally, he kicked the door. Then he put his glove back on, picked up his bag, and walked around to the back of the Emporium. I lost sight of him for a while.”

  “Did you hear any gun shots or see any flashes of light from the Emporium?” I asked.

  Finn shook his head. “No on both counts.”

  I nodded. The killer must have used a suppressor if a man across the road didn’t hear any gunshots. “Okay, you said you lost sight of the second guy for a while. When did you see him again?”

  “A while later, he ran around the south side of the Saucy Shop and along Bridge Road toward the Emporium. He stopped and bent over, breathing hard. Then he walked closer to the front door to the Saucy Shop and made a call on his cellphone.”

  “Where’d he go after he made the call?” Sam asked.

  Finn thought for a second. “He stayed near the entrance of the Saucy Shop pacing back and forth. He seemed nervous and kept looking around. That was when I noticed he wasn’t carrying that bag anymore.”

  I looked at Sam again. Sweet had told the truth about dumping his bag and coming back.

  “Okay, what happened then?” I prompted.

  “I heard a couple of sirens in the distance. That’s when I pulled out of the lot.”

  “Finn, did you notice if Damian’s Mustang was still in the East Lot?” Matt asked.

  “I took a right into the East Lot to check and his car was gone. The strange thing is that I think I would have noticed if he turned his lights on as he left. But I was focusing on the Emporium,” Finn said.

  “When did you hear about Justin?” Sam asked.

  “The next day.”

  “Finn, why didn’t you go to the police? You had material evidence,” I asked.

  Finn’s jaw tightened. “I should have. I decided to send the letter instead. At the time, I didn’t want to end up as either a witness or a suspect. I was afraid it would expose my relationship with Sherrie.”

  Sam grunted. “That's true. You’d make a great suspect. You hated Damian and were having an affair with his wife. Maybe you waited for Damian to leave. Then you rang the Emporium doorbell and killed Justin. After that, you tried to
pin it on Damian.”

  Finn grimaced. “Thanks, that makes me feel so much better.”

  “That’s not what happened, is it?” I asked.

  Finn remained calm. “No, it’s not what happened. I don’t own a gun and I never met Justin Church in my life. If I had a gun and shot anyone, it would have been Fletcher. Then Sherrie and I could have started a new life.”

  “Putting him away for life would accomplish the same thing,” Sam pointed out.

  Finn’s face turned red. “With what evidence? All I could tell the cops is that I saw him go into the Emporium the day of the murder. That's not evidence that's going to send him anywhere, much less to prison.”

  “Good point,” I agreed. “Anything else you can remember?”

  “No, that’s pretty much it,” Finn replied.

  “What time did you leave?” asked Sam.

  “It was 5:30. I checked my watch. Then I called Sherrie to let her know I’d be a little late.”

  “You took a cab to Madison?” I asked.

  Finn made a face. “No, I drove. I was tired and already going to be late.”

  “Where’d you stay in Madison?” asked Sam.

  “The Edgemont.”

  “Nice hotel,” I said. “You put it on a credit card?”

  “Yeah I did. There was a mix-up with the room so they upgraded us to a suite that was huge. Sherrie loved it. We went downstairs for dinner but then stayed in after that. What's this all about?

  “Bear with me. Did Damian call Sherrie while you were in Madison?”

  “Yeah, the next morning Sherrie turned on her regular cellphone. Damian had called four or five times.”

  “Any messages?” I asked.

  “None. She didn’t call him back. So we had breakfast. I asked Sherrie if she wanted to drive back with me and I could go in with her. She said ‘No.’ She was very resolved and strong. I told her to call me if Damian said anything. Then I put her in a cab for Mystic Grove and drove back in my car.”

  “Did she call you?” Sam asked.

  “Yes. She called later in the morning. When she walked in, Damian was home. He said he never left town and was worried when she didn’t come home. Then he said he knew things had gone off the rails with their relationship. He hoped they could try to work on their marriage. After that, he left for work. Sherrie said he was unusually calm. That changed though.”

  “Changed how?” I asked.

  “Two days later, on Thursday, you two visited Fletcher and showed him the letter I left for you and the police. Sherrie said he came home in a panic. He asked if she had sent a letter to the police, accusing him of murdering Justin Church. She was truly shocked because she didn’t know anything about the letters I had sent. She said, “No,” and he believed her, thank God.”

  “You never told Sherrie about the letters?” I asked.

  “No, I didn’t want to discuss it. I just did it.”

  “What happened next?”

  “Fletcher grilled her about whether I sent the letters. She denied it and said I would have mentioned it to her.”

  “Sherrie said it was like all the air came out of him.

  “Damian believed her?” I asked.

  Finn nodded. “He did. He sat down and said he had a confession to make. He admitted having an affair with another woman. He said he broke it off and was sorry. The woman meant nothing to him but he could see that Sherrie had feelings for me. It made him realize how much he loved her and he wanted to work on their marriage.”

  “Who was the woman?” I asked.

  “He wouldn’t tell Sherrie. However, he said the woman’s husband had found out about the affair. He thought the man was trying to implicate him in Justin Church’s murder.”

  “What?” I said. “Really?”

  Finn nodded. “He wanted her to tell the police that he’d spent Monday afternoon and evening with her. She’d be his alibi for the murder. Fletcher had an appointment with the police the next day and wanted to tell them the same thing.”

  Sam leaned back. “So he asked her to lie?”

  “Yes. Sherrie told him he could never kill anyone and the police couldn’t prove he had. But Fletcher was a nervous wreck. He said the husband could be very persuasive,” Finn said

  “What did Sherrie do?” I asked.

  Finnegan smiled. “She was actually quite brilliant. She said she would back him up on one condition. He had to agree to an uncontested divorce.”

  “How did Fletcher react?” asked Sam.

  Finn stood up and stretched. “Sherrie said she thought he was going to explode. His face turned all red, he jumped up, and started pacing. After a while, he calmed down and agreed. He even put it in writing that he would agree to an uncontested divorce. That’s why Sherrie agreed to back him up. The next day the police interviewed him and he stuck with his story, using her for his alibi. Sherrie met with the police on Saturday and corroborated his story. It was all to get her freedom.”

  Finn looked back and forth between Sam and me. “There’s a simple question, you know. Why would an innocent man ask his wife to lie like that?”

  “Good question,” I agreed.

  Finn sat down again. “I’ll tell you two more things. That fire at the Emporium? I think Fletcher was involved. The night of the fire, Sherrie said they were up late. Fletcher brought two glasses of Amaretto and cream and said he wanted to toast to new beginnings. A little after drinking the Amaretto and cream she went sound to sleep. Later, she woke up to find Damian in her bed. Until that night, they'd been sleeping in separate rooms. He woke up and said he just wanted to be near her. Then he asked the time. She looked at the clock and said it was half past 5:00 a.m.”

  “So when the police called about him being home that morning?” I asked.

  “She confirmed it. She thought he'd been there all night. But the next day she felt groggy and had a terrible headache,” said Damian.

  “He spiked the drink?” Sam asked.

  “That's what we think, yeah,” Finn agreed.

  “What’s the second thing?” I asked.

  Finn stared at me. “Sherrie was snooping around in Fletcher’s home office and found a new passport in his desk drawer. This was five or six months ago, before the murder.”

  “What’s the big deal there? Almost everyone has a passport,” Sam said.

  Finn looked at Sam and shook his head. “Fletcher is afraid of heights. He’s never been in a plane in his life. The other thing is he started taking French lessons around the same time. Also, Sherrie found brochures about France in the drawer with the passport. At the time, I thought he planned a visit to France to get over his fear of flying. Or maybe surprise Sherrie with a holiday.”

  “That’s possible,” I said. “Another possibility is that Fletcher planned to take his girlfriend to France.”

  Finn nodded. “That sounds more likely. You have it all now. That’s all I know. Is this going to help nail Fletcher?”

  “It might,” said Sam. “But we have a problem.”

  “What problem?” asked Finn.

  “You,” Sam replied. “You’ve been sleeping with Fletcher’s wife and she wants out of her marriage. You don’t have any concrete evidence he actually shot Justin Church. In short, your testimony is going to be suspect. It will look like you’re trying to set Fletcher up.”

  “I’m not setting him up. It’s all true!” Finn shouted. “Me sleeping with Sherrie doesn’t change the truth.”

  Sam blew out a long breath and shook his head.

  “We can still prove that Damian lied about where he was that afternoon and evening,” I said. “If he lied about that, maybe he lied about other things.” The thought made me sick, but we had to follow the facts.

  Sam held up a finger and grabbed his cellphone. He placed a call and we heard him ask for Matt Durand.

  “All weekend?” Sam asked. “Okay, how about Monday at 9:00 a.m.?” He listened for a minute. “That’s great. Thanks.”

  Sam hung up and
looked at us. “Monday morning the three of us are going to sit down and lay this out for Chief Durand. 9:00 a.m. sharp at the police station.”

  “Why do I have to be there, anyway?” asked Finn.

  Sam slammed the palms of his hands down on his desk. “Because you’re the witness!”

  Cursing, Finnegan stood up and gave Sam a look filled with disgust.

  “Finn, we’re taking your evidence seriously. This could help both you and Sherrie. But you have to show up on Monday,” I said more quietly.

  “All right! I’ll be there. I’m leaving now. You’re both giving me a headache,” Finn said and blew out of the office without a “thank you” or “goodbye.”

  After that, Sam and I discussed our options. Damian Fletcher, Mark Sweet, and Ben Katz were still our three suspects. I ran a few ideas past Sam and he liked one in particular. We fleshed it out and would present it to Matt on Monday. I left the office feeling optimistic. If one of our three suspects was the killer, I thought we had a good way to flush him out. I just wasn’t sure Matt Durand would go along with it.

  Chapter 51

  I spent Sunday alternating between excitement over a possible breakthrough in the case and lingering frustration with my mother. To burn off the stress, I drove over to Spiro’s Fitness Club. Spiro yelled tips on technique to me as I worked on the speed bag and later the heavy bag. Eventually, he stalked away shaking his head. I moved to the cardio room and ran on a treadmill until I was winded.

  When I returned to the B&B, I looked for Raven, but Grandma said he had driven north “to see more nature.” We both chuckled at that. So I chatted with her and ate two pieces of gooey chocolate cake and a brownie. Dizzy from sugar shock, I went back to the coach house. After feeding the cats, I went upstairs and put my gun in the nightstand. Then I put on my flannel jammies and went to bed. Within minutes, I was sound asleep.

  Monday morning I was running late, so I drove directly to the Mystic Grove police department. It was a two-story red brick building with a black shingled roof and white concrete trim. The main building, visitor parking lot, and police garage took up almost a full city block. Matt Durand employed twelve full-time officers, full-time support staff, and some part-time workers. The three story Municipal Building was next door and built with the same red brick