by Jay Heavner
“It felt like old times, talking shop with a bunch of cops. I hope we were of some help in bringing this case to a conclusion. Not sure we were.” “Cold cases can be hard to crack. Sometimes, new eyes will see something that was missed. Sometimes just stirring the pot will get the killer’s attention, and he’ll do something that will expose him. Sometimes he won’t even know it till it’s too late.”
“Yeah, and sometimes stirring the pot will put the lives of the detectives at risk when they get close to the truth whether they realize it at the time or not.”
“True,” Clyde said. “What do you think of those two?” “They seem like good men. The woman in me thinks Roger has seen great pain in his life, but he’s trying to hide it from us. He seems dedicated and determined to finding out what happened. Now, ole Bill, on the other hand, is another story. Something about his story is a few bricks short of a load. Is he here to help, or is he trying to sidetrack the investigation, or maybe even led it astray? His showing up where he did that night raises many questions. It would be so easy for him to clear himself if he provided an alibi, but something seems to be holding him back, and I can’t imagine what it could be that would be that important to keep quiet.”
“Cindy, that’s about my take on it, too.”
“Any other thoughts on it before I turn out the light?” “No.”
She turned out the light, and as the room darkened, Cindy crawled on top of Clyde. “Hmm,” Clyde said. “What’s this all about?” Cindy began to coo. “Why honey, you’ve just been blacktopped.” “Oh,” he said pleasantly. “Guess that means I’m about to be road?”
“It does. You just stay in the center lane and put the pedal to the metal. Don’t stop till we meet our destination.”
Clyde said, “I feel like a railroad crossing barrier, and the train has just roared through.”
“I can tell. Your bar has just risen to the upright position. Ding, ding, ding.”
They kissed. Nothing more needed to be said. The lights were all green and would stay locked in that position till the sweet ride was over. *** Roger woke the next morning to the smell of coffee and bacon. Bill was still sleeping and snoring. Roger slip out of bed, dressed in the dim light, found his way to the bathroom, and relieved his full bladder. He washed his hands and headed toward the kitchen. Clyde sipped on, a cup of coffee as he read the morning newspaper. Cindy was fixing breakfast. She said, “I thought I heard someone. Where’s your friend, Bill?”
“Still sleeping.”
Clyde said, “Care for coffee, Roger?” “Sure. Sounds great.”
“How do you like it?”
Roger said, “I like mine hot and black.”
Cindy laughed but tried to swallow it. Clyde like to choked as he was sipping the coffee “Did I say something funny?” a puzzled Roger asked. “Oh,” he said as he saw why his choice of words had created such a reaction. Clyde got Roger a cup. “Here you go, hot and black, like we like it.”
Roger cleared his throat before taking a sip. “This hits the spot. You didn’t have to fix us breakfast.”
“I insist,” Cindy said. “Nothing like Southern hospitality, and you’re in the South even if you had to come north to be in the South.” “Roger said, “Yeah, it is kind of funny how you have to drive north to find an area with a majority of southern accents. Not too many crackers left in central Florida anymore as the place grows like a well-fertilized weed after an all-day rain.”
“Got a question for you, Roger, before Bill gets up. Do you think he did it?” Clyde asked. “I’m not sure. I’m not sure if he’s helping or leading me astray like a man leads a bull with a ring in his nose around. I have my doubts, but I haven’t ruled him out. Trying to keep an open mind and not let our friendship get in the way. I want this solved one way or the other.”
Cindy looked at Roger curiously. He noticed her look. “What?” he said. “Has anyone ever told you that you like Sam Elliott?” she said.” He smiled. “Yeah, happens all the time,” he drawled in his best Sam Elliott imitation. “Remember? You asked me last night.” “So I did. Sorry, I forgot,” she said.
“You do favor him,” Clyde said. “You even sound like him.” The trio made more small talk for about fifteen minutes.
Bill appeared at the kitchen doorway. His hair was in his eyes. “I smell coffee.”
“Cup’ll be waiting for you,” Clyde said.
Bill smiled, “Bathroom first. Got to get rid of some fluid before I add more.” He disappeared.
Clyde laughed, “I know about getting old and having to go all the time.” Cindy said, “We hit every rest area when we travel, either to go or stretch or both.”
“Yup, sounds about like me and Bill,” Roger said. When Bill came back, breakfast was waiting for him. They ate and chatted after a short grace said by Cindy. No one really had anything of signifi- cance to add to the information already discussed the day before. All exchanged phone numbers and agreed to contact each other if needed. Roger and Bill thanked
them for their hospitality and kindness. As they drove off, Cindy said to Clyde, “Do you think they will find an answer?”
“I do, and it may be a surprise.”
“Don’t be too sure on that Clyde. I have this feeling if anyone can crack this case, it will be Roger.”
Clyde nodded, “On that, we agree.”
CHAPTER 10
The boys had no more than reached the Interstate on the way home when Bill said to Roger, “You told me how you met your wife and ended up married to her when we talked before, but you never told me much about her. Care to share anything on this long ride home?”
Roger looked at Bill and said, “Okay, but I’ve got some questions for you about your involvement with this cold case. Care to give me some candid answers?”
“Sure. Go ahead and tell me about your late wife, and then I’ll answer any questions you have. Sound good?” “It does. Let me tell you about Kay. You know she was pregnant when we got hitched. Fortunately for us, the morning sickness stopped shortly before our wedding. My troubles at the university were just getting started, so I had little time getting time off for a honeymoon. They found a sub for Kay while we were gone.
“We found some reasonably priced tickets on Southwest Airlines, some kind of a special sale they were having. Guess they had some seats they needed to fill. Anyway, we got round trip tickets to Denver, rented a car, and took off to see the mountains and the West. Kay hadn’t traveled much and had listened with envy when I told her of my travels on work detail.”
“Yeah, I thought you had been around the pike a few times,” Bill said. “I have and hope to be able to do more of that in the future. Kay was a great traveling companion and it being our honeymoon, we rocked many a bed during our trip.”
Bill snickered at that and Roger said, “We may have got the cart before the horse when we started out, but once we were married, it was all good in her mind, and she was a great wife and lover. And no, I won’t go into the intimate details. Besides, your imagination is probably better than the truth.”
“True, Roger. I’m glad you’re withholding the details. I always thought what happened in a bedroom between a husband and wife was kinda sacred and personal and not something to be shared with others. Some of my standards may be low, but I do have a few.”
“Agreed, ain’t none of your business. I respect Kay and her memory too much to go blabbing about matters such as that. Anyway, we planned on a loop starting and ending in Denver. We weren’t sure if we wanted a big circle or a little loop with the southernmost point being Santa Fe, New Mexico. It all depended on the weather.
“Well, we saw some friends of mine in Denver, drove to Colorado Springs, and got snowed on. The next day, the weather broke, and there was not a cloud in the sky. We decided to see how far we could make it up the road to Pike’s Peak. Made it to 12,000 feet before the road was closed because of the new snowfall. What a view. It sure didn’t look like our home in the Appalachians.”
�
��Or Florida,” Bill said. “Or Florida. It was absolutely beautiful, but the altitude gave us both headaches. After seeing the Garden of the Gods, we took some mountain backroads, went through some old mining towns, and then down a dirt road that used to be a narrow gauge railroad years ago. What a ride that was down the narrow twists and turns in the 20-mile plus long canyon. We had a mountain on one side and nothing on the other in places. Saw all kinds of critters, a mother bear with her cub, a bighorn ram, and a whole bunch of elk and mule deer.”
“No alligators?” Bill asked.
“No alligators, but there was a place near the Great Sand Dunes National Park that advertised Colorado gators.” “Really?”
“Yeah, it started as a fish farm in a hot spring, and the owner got the idea of having gators to clean up the fish guts, and he then expanded it into a reptile farm, but the gators were the main draw, though we did not stop. After overnighting in Canyon City, we drove to Raton, NM and drove up the Capulin Volcano National Monument. It was a great view, but not a place I’d want to be in a lightning storm, it being mainly rock with lots of iron in it.”
“Sounds like it would have made a good lightning rod.” “That was my thoughts too Bill. There was a drought going on, so rain wasn’t a concern. We stopped at the NRA Center nearby and did some shooting. Kay turned about to be quite a good shot. She surprised me.”
“Women will do that.” “Yeah, that Kay was full of surprises. We stayed in Santa Fe two nights at a place on old Route 66 called the Silver Saddle Motel. The rooms all had western themes. We got the Clint Eastwood room the first night and had to move to another room the second. That one was about Roy Rogers, the King of the Cowboys.”
“Interesting.”
“Old Roy was a smart guy for a country boy from Ohio,” Roger said.
“Never make the mistake of underestimating a country boy. So the king of the cowboys was from back east?’ “He was. Leonard Slye was his real name. The Hollywood producers came up with his stage name. They wanted something similar to Will Rogers who was really popular at that time. Old Roy was a sharp fellow. He got the complete rights to the name. He even allowed a roast beef restaurant to use it, of course for a fee. Got a Roy Roger’s Roast Beef in Cumberland, Maryland. Darn good food, too.”
Bill said, “That does sound like a wise man.”
“He just recently retired after a long and successful career. Age will do that to you.” “It will. I think he’s enjoying his time out to pasture.
“So much for Roy. We went to a huge caldera, the third largest in the US and the next day drove over to Durango past Georgia O’Keeffe country. Beautiful, but stark area. We rode the Durango to Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad on Mothers Day. Incredible scenery, and she got a flower. Oh, and a bunch of hippies down by the Animas River mooned us on the way back.”
Bill rolled his eyes. “What would we do without hippies?” Roger laughed. “I told Kay I was going to moon them back, but a sharp elbow jab in my ribs changed my mind.”
“I’ll bet it did,” Bill said. “We had a meal in the historic Strater Hotel in Durango where Louis L’Amour wrote many of his books. The old bar area, most of which is now a restaurant, still has holes in the tin ceiling from gunshots. A bunch of card games turned deadly and ended fast the hard way years ago.”
“Sounds like you guys had some fun.” “We did.”
Roger continued, “The Million Dollar Highway with its twists, turns, switchbacks, and no guard rails was our next adventure.”
“No guard rails on a mountain road?” “Nope. Some years, they get 300 inches or more of snow and guard rails would make pushing that much snow off the road impossible, so, no guard rails. We make it to Grand Junction, saw Colorado National Monument with its many colored rock formations, swam in a hot spring in Glenwood Springs, and had a beautiful drive to Leadville which is over 10,000 feet about sea level.”
Bill said, “What a change. About 25 feet in Canaveral Flats.” “I joined the two-mile-high club there.”
Bill rolled his eyes. “Honeymooners.” “The trip back to Denver was beautiful, and we flew back home. Oh, by the way, the airport sits on the edge of the Great Plains, and the uneven heating of the air can make for a bumpy ride leaving. Someone in the front lost their lunch.”
“I’ll remember that if I go to Denver.” “Just depends on the time of day and weather conditions. You never know.” Roger paused. “Okay, I’ve been running my mouth for some time. How about you start telling me about your relationship to the murdered woman?”
“Okay, but you ain’t gonna believe this.” “Try me. I’m all ears.”
CHAPTER 11
“Well, as you know every state’s laws have some quirks and the great state of Florida is no exception,” Bill said.
“I’m aware of that. And some make little or no sense at all,” Roger said. “It was one of those quirks that led me to meet Missy McCoy Odom. The laws in our state leave public and private nudity up to the county or municipality.”
“That explains all the crazy laws governing strip joints that vary from county to county and city to city.” “We’re on the same track, Roger. In Brevard and Volusia County, we have the federal Canaveral National Seashore, a beautiful area with no bars, or condos, or hotels, just natural sand beaches. There are no federal laws on nudity, so for years the remote north end of the national seashore has been a place where nudists come to sun their buns. There’s usually not too much trouble with them, and they spend a bunch of money.”
“Not on swimsuits.” “Well, yes, they do. They need them till they get away from the general public. They park at the last lots and then walk north a good way to separate themselves from the clothed public beachgoers. Some time ago, the county passed an ordinance banning nudity on all beaches in the county. Our local sheriff had never sent his people up there before. He left the feds to take care of any problems, but the feds weren’t interested in enforcing the county’s statute, so it was up to him to take care of it. To keep the county commissioners and concerned public off his back, about one or twice a year, he’d send someone up there to see the beach goers complied with the regulation.”
“Bill, this is all very interesting, but what’s it got to do with Missy?” “Have patience, young friend. I listened to your yarn about you and your wife, and now you can listen to mine.”
“All right. Get to the point.” “I was before I was so rudely interrupted.” Roger gave him a dirty look and Bill resumed. “The sheriff couldn’t find anyone for this fool’s errand, and I took the job.”
“Fool’s errand? I’d think most of the deputies would jump at the chance to get their eyes full.” “You would think that, but word had gotten out that it was mainly seasoned citizens frequenting the area on the days the sheriff picked for selec- tive enforcement.”
“Seasoned citizens?” Roger said. ‘You mean like seniors, 65 and above retired people?” “You got it, old boy. Not the most pleasant specimens to lay eyes on.” “Bill, I’ll agree with that. So why did you take it?”
“What else? The money. I sometimes moonlight for extra money, usually as a security guard over at Kennedy Space Center or Cape Canaveral just like my dad did, but other places too. I’d already passed the federal background check, so I was a shoo-in.”
“Okay. So far, so good. Continue.” Roger said. “I got the job and drove to the end of the road at Playalinda Beach. Took me a while to find a parking spot as the lot was full. Finally, a spot opened up as an elder couple was leaving. I took it, parked, and started up the beach. I walked a quarter mile before I ran into the first naked people. I told them about the regulation, and they covered up. I repeated this as I walked up the beach and the people complied, some grudgingly, but they complied, and that was that. As I said, most were seniors. I could tell some were regulars by the leathery skin and some not. The latter either were putting copious amounts of sunscreen on or were quite red like boiled lobsters.”
“Bet that was gonna hurt the next day
.” “Yup. A carpenter friend who used to live in the Flats once told me how he was working down Miami way and on the weekend went to a nudie beach down there. I did some construction work also before becoming a cop. Alcohol flowed freely with the group he was with. He said he played nude volleyball and really got his eyes full that day, but there was a downside.”
“I think I know where you’re going.” Bill nodded, “Yeah, he got an allover sunburn. He was in no pain while under the influence, but the next day or two was horrible. No amount of aloe could stop the pain, and the worst of it was the pain on his hips from where he wore his tool belt. He said he was never gonna do that again.”
“Painful lessons can be great learning experiences,” Roger said. “They can leave a lasting impression that you remember for a long, long time.” “It definitely left an impression on my carpenter friend. Now let’s see. Where was I? Oh, yeah, getting people to obey the law by covering up. I walked on down the beach, and there was this shapely thing lying on a towel face down. I told she needed to cover up, and everything would be fine. She rolled over,
looked up at me, stood up on her tiptoes, and we looked at each other through our sunglasses. Let me tell you, she was built like a brick house. She stood about 5 foot 5 inches, had the breasts ever woman wished for, and all the other parts looked great too. I guessed her measurements were about 37-24-36.
She looked a lot like Janet Leigh in the Alfred Hitchcock Psycho movie.” “So Bill, you’re telling me she was stacked.”
“Yup and this was how I met Missy McCoy Odom. She gave me a hard time at first, but she soon saw it was in her best interest to put on her suit. I never got her name that day. I could have arrested her and hauled her in just like I found her. I told her I would too. I had to do that one time when I found a young guy all drunked up skinny dippin’ in a motel pool. He begged for some clothes, but I took him to booking just like that. As I left him there, I hear him say, ‘I ain’t never gonna do that again.’”