by Jay Heavner
It only took a few minutes for the two men to wolf down the hearty meal.
Roger had a satisfied look on his face and said, “Okay, Sherlock. Where do we start?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Watson? In the beginning,” Bill emphasized, “In the beginning. The game is afoot.”
CHAPTER 4
The two men turned their heads as the lights on the big neon sign by the road, and the lights in the parking lot went out. Pete came out from the kitchen and locked the front door. He slipped into the booth next to Roger and said, “You guys really think you can crack this cold case after all this time has gone by?”
“We hope so,” Bill said. “And I know of no better person able to get to the heart of the matter than Roger. He was a forensics and archaeological professor up north and knows his way around this stuff. It ain’t his first rodeo. He helped the police solve several cases while living there.”
“Missy was a great worker. She left a big hole that was difficult to fill, but somehow you manage,” Pete said.
“Thanks for the compliment, Bill. Hope I can live up to that reputation,” Roger said. “First thing first,” Bill said. “This could be complicated for me, so I’ll show my cards from the beginning. It would be nice if I could stay out of this for reasons I’ll mention, but I can’t. I think you know I was a suspect in this. Missy and I were romantically involved, and we had a loud breakup two days before she was killed here. Much of the paperwork from this case seems to be missing or lost. Roger, you don’t know this, but I was one of the first people to get here about 4:30 that morning. Pete found her dead on the floor, called it in, Deputy Miller was first on the scene, secured the area, and called for help. I heard the call and responded as I was in the area.”
“And what were you doing in the area at that hour of the morning?” Roger asked. “I’d rather not say. You’re gonna have to figure that out,” Bill said. “You know I will,” Roger said.
Bill said, “As I remember it, the lights were on low in the dining area. The front door was open, and crime tape was across the entrance. Pete was sitting at the bar trying to drink a cup of coffee. He was very distraught. I was in civilian clothes and identified myself as a policeman. Pete said that a female employee was dead in the kitchen. Is that about how you remember it, Pete?”
“That’s it in a nutshell. I’ll add anything more I can remember that could be important.” Bill said, “You do that. I went into the kitchen and found Deputy Miller. He knew me and asked me if I was here to help. I said yes, and we made sure the area was secure and put crime tape over the back door which was locked. Pete, was the door locked and closed when you arrived?”
“I unlocked the front door, came in, turned on the lights, and went to the kitchen to get ready for breakfast. I saw Missy lying on the floor naked. Her eyes were glazed over. I knew she was dead. I touched her. She was cold. And yes, the door was closed and locked. Then I called the cops.”
Roger asked, “Did you move her or anything in the building?” Pete said, “No, the only thing I did was put on a pot of coffee. I knew I needed it and figured the cops would want some when they got here. I sat down in a booth and waited. The coffee had just stopped perking when Deputy Miller arrived. I met him at the door and took him back to the kitchen. Though I was shaking like a leaf, he was calm as a cucumber. He checked for a pulse and found none. Later, he told me he just did that to make sure. He saw the glazed over eyes and knew she was dead.” “He asked me if this was how I found her and I said, ‘Yes.’ He asked if I had moved her or anything in the kitchen. I said, ‘No.’ At that point, he got on his radio, reported what he had found, and asked for backup help. It was going to be a long morning for everyone. Bill showed up soon afterward. They secured the area. I got everyone coffee and sat the cups on a table by the window. We sat down, and they asked a lot of questions.
“Were the doors locked? ‘Yes.’ They found a key in the rear door lock. I don’t know if the investigators ever figured out if it had any significance or not.”
Roger nodded. “That is interesting. I’ll look into that. Sometimes little details like that can make or break a case. What else?”
“Two other cops arrived about that time, one a Titusville cop and one a county Mountie. Can’t remember their names. Bill, do you remember?” “I do. The Titusville cop was a rookie named Schumer, totally useless. It was his first murder. After he saw the body, he turned green and threw up in a kitchen sink. What a mess. We sent him out to his car, and he spent the next hour sitting in his patrol car with the driver’s door open with his head between his legs throwing up about every fifteen minutes. Not sure he’s around anymore. The deputy’s name was Yates. Good guy you can depend on.”
Roger said, “I think I know him. Is that the same guy who pulled a gun on us at the Port St. John boat dock?”
“It is, but remember, we were going 90 mph down US 1 in my old truck and there was a car burning up at the boat dock that early morning.” “Yeah, I remember. Someone had just tried to shoot me dead, and we were after him.”
“Yup,” Bill said. “It’s also the same deputy who should have thrown you and Tom Kenney in jail for being drunk and disorderly.”
Roger said, “You forgot resisting arrest.” Bill smiled, “I didn’t forget. Call it selective memory to protect the guilty.” He paused. “Just be thankful he owned me some favors and called me and didn’t take you guys in.”
Roger grimaced, “Yeah, Tom’s wife like to blew a head gasket when she found out. Glad there was a thousand miles between us.”
“Why was that?” Pete asked. “Well,” Bill said, “Tom’s wife, Sarah, is Navajo and wanted to do grave bodily harm to dear ole Roger for his instigation of the confused fiasco that night.”
“Yeah, think I’ll stay away from her for the foreseeable future till and if she calms down,” Roger said.
“She wanted to turn his private parts into some, shall we say, personal accessories like the Indians did with bull buffalos,” Bill said. “Sounds like someone I would want as a friend and not an enemy,” Pete said.
The two men across from them nodded in agreement. Roger said, “Looks like I need to talk to Yates about this.”
“Don’t forget to thank him for not running your sorry slobbering self in that night,” Bill said.
“I will,” Roger replied and then mumbled, “And thanks to you, too.” Bill’s eyes widened. He looked at Pete and said, “Did you hear something? I’m not sure I did.”
Pete picked up on what was going on. “I believe I did hear something, but it was very garbled. Maybe if we’re lucky, it will come around again.” “Okay, THANK YOU, BILL! Now, are you happy?” Roger said “Shocked,” Bill said. “Didn’t think I would hear those words. Maybe you were worth saving.” Roger gave Bill his best Sam Elliott irritated look and said, “Now, can we get back to the investigation? Pete, is there anything more you would like to add now?”
“Not really. The policemen that were here took it and ran with it. I was pretty much a forgotten bystander looking out the window and watching the young cop Schumer puking over and over.”
Roger said, “Okay, I may need to talk with you again as questions come up. Where can I reach you?” “Just call the restaurant. I’m here most of the time. Not sure if I own it, or it owns me,” Pete said. “Be great to make a new start while I still can. I’ve seen so many people put off plans till they retire and then something happens to one of them or the other. They make plans to do this or that and then one dies or gets sick, and it never happens. Me, I’m getting out while I can and healthy enough to enjoy life.”
Bill asked, “So what are your plans?”
Pete said, “Well, me and the misses are going to travel for a while, and then I’ll golf a lot to keep out of her hair.”
Roger said, “Seems like a plan for a while. Anything after that? Seems like a short-term plan only.” “I’ve thought about that,” Pete said. “I could always open up another diner. Even though it takes up lots
of time, I’m a people person, and I’m not sure I’ll be happy with all the free time. It’s great to make people happy with a great meal, and then share what’s going on in their lives.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Roger said. He looked at Bill. “Yates should be easy to find and talk to.” Bill nodded. “You have any idea where and when we can see this Deputy Miller fellow?”
“I do,” Bill said. “And we’re gonna see him tomorrow.” “What?” Roger said. “I worked it out. He’s leaving for Pennsylvania in three days, and we’re leaving for Greenville tomorrow morning early.” “What?” Roger said. “Who’s gonna feed my dog while we’re gone?”
“It’s all taken care of,” Bill said. “I got your neighbor Lester lined up to take care of K9.”
“Sounds like I’ve been shanghaied. Anything else I need to know?” “Yeah, you need a bath, comb your hair and face, and your breath smells like a north end of a horse going south. Clean up your act if you want to get along with Miller. He used to be a drill instructor for the Marines before he joined the Sheriff’s Department. A lifer he was and goes strictly by the book. You need to look good if you want to talk to him.”
Roger protested, “But I had a bath and got my beard and hair trimmed.” Bill shook his head. “Use soap this time and take a real shower, not a quick rinse this time. And get your hair and beard cut, not trimmed around the edges. The word is Miller’s hard core, so you need to cut it seriously. Got that?”
Roger said, “Okay, I’ll look professional.”
“Good, we want to make a good first impression,” Bill said.
Pete said, “You boys figure out the details on your trip. I have to get back to the kitchen. We won’t be ready for our next meal if I’m not helping. Roger, good luck. Find the bastard that did this. Missy needs justice. I’m counting on you. You know where to find me when you need me. Bye.” He got up and disappeared through the double swinging doors into the kitchen.
“You got it all figured out, don’t you, Bill?”
“Somebody has to, old buddy, till you’re back to running with the big dogs again.” Roger’s eyes shot bullets across the table and he said, “Be glad I married a good Christian woman and her influence is still with me. God rest her soul. I’m biting my tongue and not repeating the many four-letter words I’m thinking about you now.”
“I wish I could have met her, Roger. She sounds like she was a wonderful woman.” “She was, and our son looked just like her. God, how I miss them.” The two men said nothing for a moment. “What time tomorrow are we leaving for Greenville?” Roger asked.
“Ten o’clock in the morning. That will give you time to get a real haircut. Larry opens early; I think seven or seven thirty. Be there when they open up. ”
“Okay, I’ll see you then, ole buddy.” Roger emphasized the last two words. The men got up, left the diner, and walked to their trucks. Bill said, “Thanks for cleaning up your act somewhat, ole buddy.” Roger smiled at him sardonically. “Right,” he said and then drove away.
Bill sat in his truck and stared out across the Indian River to the buildings at Kennedy Space Center. The die had been cast. There was no turning back now. It was go for launch.
CHAPTER 5
The next morning at 10 a.m. Bill pulled up to the gate at Roger’s humble abode. There was little traffic on Canaveral Flats Boulevard, but that was normal even for a workday. Maybe someday as the area grew, this unpaved washboard road would live up to its name. He liked it the way it was even with the big holes that filled with water after a rainstorm. It cut down on speeders and kept outsiders out. He’d regularly seen people with out of state tags stop at Miller’s Store. Some got directions from Fred. Others just turned around, and high tailed it back to “civilization.”
It made his job easier as the only town cop. Most of the town’s residents had trucks with high clearance, but a few drove all- wheel-drive cars that usually could make it through except for the very worst of places on the very worst of days.
The gate was dummy-locked as usual, so Bill let himself in. He could see Roger asleep on the screened in porch in his new La- Z-Boy chair. The bullets from the assassin’s gun had destroyed the last one and nearly gotten Roger killed. Bill hoped this case would go smoother, but you never know. Police work always had an element of danger in it. Like most law officers, Bill had a desire to serve and try to make the world a little better. With time, he found the job was mostly routine and even boring, but it also had its 5% of sheer terror.
He drove up the path and got out. Immediately, he heard a familiar growl. “K9,” Bill whispered. “It’s good to see you too. Looks like you’re still mad at me, or is that your way of saying ‘Hello?’”
The dog gave him a ‘whatever’ look and went back to sleep. Bill saw K9’s water and food bowl were both full. He wondered if Roger had done this, but doubted it. A quick look told him Roger had taken some of his advice. His hair was cut, his beard was shaved, and he smelled of Old Spice cologne, not B.O. The familiar Sam Elliott walrus mustache was back. Seemed he had bathed also. Bill wondered if Roger’s shower was cold. Roger frequently would forget to get a tank of propane when it ran out. He could have lit the water heater each time he needed it, but usually, Roger left the pilot light on. Roger said it kept the mechanism from rusting up, but as often as he ran out of gas and did without, Bill couldn’t see how it made any difference.
Whatever.
“Hey, Rip Van Winkle, it’s time to rise and shine. Road trip, remember?” Bill shouted.
Roger opened one eye, looked at Bill and said, “I ain’t feeling so good. I got a headache.”
Bill saw an empty whiskey bottle nearby, but said nothing. Roger snarled, “I got to get me a dog.” Bill opened his mouth to speak, but Roger cut him off. “I know. I know. I do have a dog, a good one, too. She’s welcome here as long as she keeps the riff- raff out and growls at you.”
Bill said, “Did you feed K9?” “No, must have been Lester.” “Does she growl at Lester?” “No, Lester ain’t riff-raff like some people who have been known to disturb my sleep and drink all my beer. Know anyone else who fits that description?”
Bill smiled and stroked his chin. “Oh, about half the people in Canaveral Flats or more.” Roger looked at Bill and said, “You don’t want to hear what I’m thinking.” “Probably not, ole buddy. Remember, I’m the closest thing you’ve got for a true friend in this world.”
“Thanks. You would have to remind me of that. You really know how to make my day.”
Bill smiled, “It’s always good to be appreciated. Looks like you took some of my advice. Got your stuff ready for the trip?’ “Yeah, I knew I wouldn’t be in any shape or want to do it this morning. Got it all in a little day pack wheelie thing I got at a thrift store near Larry’s Barbershop. I’m ready as I will be.”
“Larry’s wife, Linda, cut your hair?” “Yeah, she did.”
“Looks like her work.”
Roger got out of his chair, stood, and looked at the full dog bowls. “Yup, looks like Lester has been here already, or the good fairies have visited.” Bill said, “I’d bet on Lester. Good fairies usually avoid this neighborhood. Too many big dogs. Now, Lester on the other hand, has made friends with many of the dogs in the area. They used to be a real problem for him when he wanted to cut the lawns for the owners when they were at work, but he discovered if he feeds them doughnuts beforehand, they leave him alone.”
“Doughnuts, huh? Bet you know about doughnuts.”
“Hey, cool the jokes about cops and doughnuts. Remember, officially you’re one, too.”
“Guess you’re right on that,” Roger said.
“Oh, and FYI, Lester used to be a scout in World War II. He got several medals, but he doesn’t talk about the war much. Too many bad memories.” “There’s a lot of guys like that. They don’t open up on the war subject. Just too painful.”
“Agree, get your stuff and we’ll be off,” Bill said. “Okay. It’ll only take a minute or two.”
Roger went inside and soon returned with a backpack with wheels. It had a TMI label on the outside that Bill noted. “Where’d you get that thing?” Bill said and pointed at the backpack.
“A church thrift store near the barbershop?” “Was it the Catholic one or the Baptist’s shop?” “I don’t know, Bill. How many are there?”
“A bunch. Seems every church and community service organization from people needs to animal needs to environmental needs has one.” “I’ll keep that in mind. Seems like good places to shop with reasonable prices and help the area needs too.”
“I do almost all my shopping for clothes there.”
Roger grinned, “I never would have guessed. I thought you went dumpster diving for what those places threw out.” “Very funny, Roger. Now you know why you have so few friends.” “By the way, what’s TMI anyway?” Roger asked.
“TMI stands for Teen Missions International. They’re located over on Merritt Island, a Christian group. They have a summer camp, a boot camp they call it, before they send teens out on mission trips all around the world.”
“Interesting. Ready to go?”
“Sure, let’s hit the road like sheep dung.”
Roger curled his lip up, “Sheep dung? You usually use more colorful language.”
“Told you Roger, I was trying to clean up my act. Now, do you want to argue about what comes out of the back of a sheep or go?”
“No, let’s go, and I know what comes out of the hindquarters of sheep and other animals, politicians,” Roger said.
“No argument there. Let’s go.” They hopped in Bill’s truck and were soon on the road. Roger knew they were heading for South Carolina, but he wondered where this investigation would be heading, especially with one of the two prime suspects sitting next to him and driving. He had mixed feelings on how this would turn out.