Murder at the Canaveral Diner (A Florida Murder Mystery Novel)

by Jay Heavner

  “Killer manatee? Sounds like there’s a story there,” Cap’n Dan said. “There certainly is, but we don’t have time for it now. It’s long. Some other time, maybe on your boat. Anyway, thanks for seeing me. I told the Odom fellow I’d probably be checking with you. I’m investigating the murder of his ex-wife, Missy.

  Something suspicious is going on.” “That happened about five years ago. I remember it well. A cop came around here, asked a few questions, and left. He seemed like he was just going through the motions.”

  “Do you remember his name?” Roger said. “I do. It was Ryder, Mitch Ryder.”

  “Like the singer? You know, Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels?” “Yeah, that’s why I remember the name, that and my training at the Police Academy.”

  Roger said, “So you were a cop?” “That I was. I was a Cocoa city cop. I liked it, but got tired of some rats in the force. They were worse than the criminals. You knew the criminals were up to no good, but the backstabbing from some of my own boys in blue got to me. Pop’s business was growing like crazy, and he needed help running it. I had the experience and knew what law enforcement wanted and needed. I’ve been here ever since and have never looked back. I’d only been here a few months when Jim Odom’s ex was murdered.”

  “He said he had an alibi.”

  “Roger, He did. I saw the time sheets for the night shift. It showed he was here doing yearly inventory.”

  “Any chance the records could have been forged?” “Funny you should say that,” Cap’n Dan said. “Maryanne was our only timekeeper at the time. Jim got the second timekeeper position when we put on a second shift. What’s really weird about it is she called in about two weeks ago and up and quit like that. I took the call. She seemed troubled and scared. I couldn’t get much out of her. No one here saw it coming. Not even Jim. He’d know if anyone would. It was an open secret they were seeing each other on the sly. He pleaded ignorance on knowing anything about her quitting, but I wonder.

  Something hinky’s been going on around here for years. My father wanted to write it off to accounting errors and honest mistakes, but I talked him into hiring an outside firm to look into it. I was going over the report when you came in. Some of it may have been just glitches in Pop’s antiquated accounting, but there seemed to be a pattern of inventory disappearing that can only be contributed to shrinkage.”

  “Shrinkage? You mean theft,” Roger said.

  “I do. Pop and me agreed to have an outside contractor come in and install a state of the art security and monitoring system. They did it about three weeks ago over a three day weekend when no one was here, and no one would be the wiser. It’s well hidden. On a good sign, we’ve had no car break-ins since the fence went up.”

  “How’s the surveillance system working out?”

  “Super as far as I can tell. We have everything on videotape for that time. Pop took a quick look at it and said it was satisfactory. He showed me the basics on how to run the system.”

  “I’ve got a hunch. Could you find the tape of Maryanne’s last day?” Roger asked.

  “Sure. Come to the back room where we hid all the hardware and monitoring equipment.” They walked into the back room. Several large monitors sat in a semi-circle on an oversized desk. Each screen was split six ways. Roger said, “I’m impressed, and I didn’t see anything here, so you don’t have to kill me.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it. Let’s see. Here it is.” He put the videotape in the VCR player and hit play. It made some noises as the mechanisms kicked in. A picture of the employee entrance appeared on the black and white screen. They watched as the day started. Timekeeper Maryanne came in shortly ahead of the pack. Dan hit another button, and the picture went into fast-forward mode. The machine buzzed as the images sped by. They watched intently.

  “Hey,” Roger shouted. “Stop right there. You need to back up.” Cap’n Dan hit the pause button and then the reverse. “You see something?” “I think so. There! Isn’t that Jim Odom? What’s he doing there? He works the late shift, and the screen time says this video was taken around noon.” They watched a little longer. Maryanne could be seen hurrying out to her car and driving off at a high rate of speed. Not long afterward, Jim Odom exited the building at a run. He hopped in his car and also sped away.

  Roger exhaled heavily. “I’ve got a hunch I know what happened to the lady timekeeper. Do you have fingerprints of your employees?” “We handle a lot of items that are meant only for law enforcement. Some of them would be bad news if they fell into the wrong hands. I know there’s a huge demand on the black market both in this country and around the world. To answer your question, yes, we fingerprint everyone.”

  Roger said, “How hard would it be to get a copy of Maryanne’s finger- prints?”

  “Not hard at all for me. I know all the passwords for the systems. What do you need it for?” “I have a bad feeling about this. When me and Canaveral Flats Chief of Police Bill Kenney were coming back from interviewing a witness in Missy McCoy’s cold case, we stopped in south Georgia at a Sonny’s BBQ for lunch. We got to talking with some local cops, and they mentioned a recent murder. A young woman was found nude, and somebody had cut off one of her nipples. Someone did the same to Missy. The whole thing smells. Could be the same guy and we may well know who it was.”

  “It will take me a minute to pull the print’s up, Roger.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll call the sheriff up there and tell him to expect a fax with Maryanne’s prints. He needs to compare the two ASAP.” Cap’n Dan had a stern look on his face. “I love it when a plan comes together. Use whatever you want. All the equipment you need is in the outer room.”

  “Gotcha.” Roger went to the next room, pulled a business card out of his wallet, and dialed the phone. After a few rings, someone picked up. Cap’n Dan listened to the one-sided conversation. He could hear Roger explain who he was and why he needed to talk to the sheriff immediately. Luck was with them. The sheriff was in the office, and he was very interested in what Roger had to say. He’d touch base with Roger as soon as his people compared the prints.

  Cap’n Dan found the prints and set the printer to the highest quality. The printer made a whirring sound, and a paper with the prints was spat out. “Got ’em,” he yelled.

  “Bring ’em here,” Roger said.

  Cap’n Dan appeared carrying a paper with the prints. “Here.”

  Roger said, “Once I’ve sent this, I need to go. Got someone I need to corner. How do I let myself out?” “Press this button under the desk. Hey, I hate to run, but I’m having a colonoscopy tomorrow, and I can feel the laxative trying to kick in right now. It’s working faster than they said it would. I’m gonna be on the throne for a while. Let yourself out and call me when you have something new.”

  “I will.”

  “Got to go, now!” “See ya.” Roger placed the document in the fax machine and dialed the Georgia sheriff’s fax number. It picked up on the second ring and made the chirping sounds peculiar to fax machines. It went through smoothly, and a confirmation notice printed and came out. He folded it and put it in his pocket. He hit the button under the sink so the gate would be open. As he reached the office door, he heard Cap’n Dan shout out in a troubled voice, “Hey, old buddy, could you please do me a favor, please, pretty please?”

  “Sure. What do you need?”

  “Paper. Toilet paper. Ain’t none in here, and I’m screwed. Help me!”

  Roger snickered to himself. He bit his tongue as he tried not to make a comment worthy of the predicament Cap’n Dan found himself in. “Where’s the paper?” he managed to say without laughing.

  “In the closet in the hall. Bring two rolls please.” Roger opened the closet door. To the left he saw a large sealed box labeled, Buns Toilet Tissue, Ultra soft and Gentle on Hemorrhoids, Giant Economy Pack. He tore at the cardboard box top and managed to rip the securely glued and stapled halves apart. Inside he saw the entire contents was enclosed in a thick plastic bag
. He fought at it and managed to poke a hole in the bag which he enlarged with some effort. He grabbed two rolls each individually wrapped in fine white paper. He stopped for a moment and looked at the writing on the box. “One may be the loneliest number, but we’re here for you with Number Two. We’re the butt of many jokes. We won’t rub you wrong.

  One or Two, we comfort you.” Roger went to the bathroom door. “Sorry, it took so long. The manufacturer sure went to great effort to protect the toilet paper. And then the slogans on the box caught my eye. Better than Burma Shave signs.” He asked the door, “Now what do you want me to do?”

  “Just open the door a little and slip your arm with the paper in. I can reach it from there.” Roger did as Cap’n Dan had instructed. “Thanks, Roger old buddy. I owe you a big one. You got me out of a real jam. Thanks. Yeah, someone at Buns definitely has a sense of humor. I’ve noticed that too.” He laughed. “I wish some of our other suppliers were as diligent and meticulous with what they send. You wouldn’t believe what some of the stock look like when they arrive.”

  Roger said, “A companies pride and quality shows in everything they do. Hey, you’re welcome. Aren’t you kinda young for a colonoscopy?”

  “Yeah, I am, but there’s a family history of colon cancer. My uncle died from it. He ignored the symptoms and by the time he finally went to the doctor, it was too late.”

  “Sorry to hear that, Cap’n Dan. Hope you get favorable test results. Colon cancer runs in my family too, so I can relate to what you’re going through. I had one of those procedures not too long ago. I wish you luck and good fortune.” Roger paused. “I’ll let myself out now. Hope everything comes out okay.” He heard a groan.

  “Roger, I have a crappy feeling about this. It will end well.” He stopped. “Thanks again.” “See ya.” Roger made his way out of the office and to the parking lot. A large white panel van was parked next to his vehicle. As Roger got to his door, the side door of the van opened rapidly. An invisible force hit him, and he fell to the ground. As he lay on the asphalt unable to move, he heard a voice, the voice of Jim Odom. “Why, it’s just the person I wanted to see, Roger Pyles? We’ve got much to talk about and so many fun things to do.”

  Muscular arms picked him up and dropped him in the van. The door closed behind him. He’d been tased. Roger could feel his hands and feet being bound, and he was helpless to stop it.

  Looking up, he saw Jim with a syringe in his hand. He felt a pick to his thigh. “Don’t worry Roger. I’ve done this before. Only killed one person so far using too much. Elephant tranquilizer can be tricky when given to humans. It’s super potent.”

  “Why?” muttered Roger.

  “Why? Because I want to and can. And no one can stop me.” Roger saw an evil darkness in Jim’s eyes as he lost consciousness. “Aw,” said Jim. “I hope I haven’t killed him. It’s too soon. That would cut down on our fun.” Roger moved slightly. “Oh good, I love playing with my toys. Use them up while alive and then when they’re dead. And then get rid of the trash and find another when it suits me. Let the games begin.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Roger slowly gained consciousness. His mind was fuzzy, and he struggled to remember and make sense of his situation. He’d been drugged, bound, and lay helpless. He looked around cautiously. The interior of the van was covered with what he recognized as sound deadening materials. He guessed that was why he hadn’t been gagged. The van swayed. It was moving, and he was the cargo going somewhere to a place he was sure he wouldn’t enjoy. He fought the grogginess and spoke to the driver, “Hey.”

  The driver turned to him and flashed a wicked smile. “Hey yourself. I hadn’t expected you to come around so soon. Still got to work on adjusting the amount of fentanyl.”

  “What’s that?” he croaked.

  “Elephant tranquilizer. Potent stuff. Many times stronger than heroine. You like it?”

  Roger’s head spun. “No, think I’ll stick to killing myself with alcohol. Where are we going?” “To my playpen.”

  “Oh. Is that where you took the others?” The wicked grin on Jim’s face grew darker. “Why should I tell you?”

  Roger fought for consciousness and blurted out, “Why not? You have me where you want me. You’re gonna kill me anyway?

  Right?”

  “You’re a smart fellow, too smart for your own good. You could have stayed out of this, and everything would have continued just fine.” “You mean your stalking and killing games, right?” “Mental note to self, next time use more tranquilizer.”

  Roger spoke, but he slurred his words. It took little effort to do this. “Why don’t you tell me? I’m your captive audience.”

  A depraved laugh slipped from Jim’s lips. He thought for a moment and said, “Why not? What do you want to know. You’re dead meat anyway.” “Yeah, why not? You have me where you want me.” He paused to gather his foggy thoughts. “Tell me about Missy.”

  “It’s her fault I kill. She was a bitch. I grew to hate her, and she needed killing. I found I liked killing. It’s her fault.”

  “How did you get into the diner?”

  Jim laughed. “I duplicated her keys. I could have done whatever I wanted to her and whenever I wanted.” “Why at the diner?”

  “Simple. It’s the place she least expected it.” “You shot her with a taser?” “I did. People become really helpless after being shot with one.” “I know.”

  Jim laughed at Roger’s predicament. “Let me guess, you got it from work.” “I did, Sherlock.”

  “And then what?” Roger asked.

  “I wanted to humiliate her, and I did leaving her like that. She died too soon. It should have been much more fun. I used chloroform, and I used too much. She died quickly, too quickly.” “Why did you stab her twenty-three times?” Roger asked. “Poetic justice. She betrayed me. Caesar was stabbed twenty- three times. It seemed only fitting.”

  “What about the others? How many?” “Prostitutes, runaways, people no one would miss. How many? Too many and yet not enough. I’ll count the souvenirs I kept and let you know. I’m still adding to the collection when I need to.”

  Roger said, “What about Maryanne? Why did you kill her?” “We had a good thing going covering each other’s secrets. The sex was good too, but she changed. She was tired of pretending and covering up. She said she was going to report me, and my fun must go on, so I had to take care of her. It was her fault. We could have kept going as it was, but no, she changed and made me silence her forever, but oh, did she squeal. It was so exciting. She had such powerful lungs.”

  “That’s your plans for me, too? Make me cry out for mercy, and then you torture me more?” Jim’s face twisted into a devilish smile. “Something like that. I’ve never had sex with a man before. I figured I just do the same to you I did to the others. You know, screw you lame, conscious or unconscious, kneeling, sitting, lying down, bent over, standing on one leg. And all the while, I’ll be controlling you and choking you in and out of consciousness. You’ll be impressed with the devices I’ve created for my sensual activities. If you could walk later, you’d walk funny for at least a week. Sound like fun, eh?”

  For once, Roger was glad he was tranquilized. Roger was looking at a classic case of a predator. It calmed him as he thought of the fate Jim’s victims have suffered. He wasn’t there yet, and there was still time to es- cape. All he needed was an opportunity, if it ever came.

  “Almost there. Hope you’re up for it. I am,” Jim said. Roger could feel the van slow and make a left-hand turn. It went a short distance and stopped. Through the windshield, he could see a chain link fence gate and an old rust sign that read Tropic Paradise. Jim cursed as he looked in the rearview mirror. Roger thought he heard a muffled com- manding voice outside, and he watched as Jim’s right hand reached for a gun on the floor. With all the strength he had, Roger thrashed against his binds and yelled, “He’s got a gun!”

  Two shots rang out, one immediately after the other. Roger heard Jim moan
. Blood poured from his neck. He slumped over in the driver’s seat, and his head rolled to the side. Roger thought he heard someone shuffling around outside. He yelled with all he had left inside, “I’m in here. Help me!”

  It was quiet for a moment. Roger saw a hand with a gun through the glass in the passenger’s door. “Help me, please! I’m in the back.” A face appeared, but Roger couldn’t make out who it was. The door window exploded from a hard hit from something. Roger saw a gun aiming at Jim who wasn’t moving. The man’s other hand reached inside the van, touched the automatic lock, and Roger heard the sound of all the doors on the van unlocking.

  The side door opened, and Roger was temporarily blinded by the sunlight. “Roger, are you okay?”

  The excited voice was familiar. “Bill, is that you?” “Yes, are you okay?” “I’m kinda tied up right now, but could be a lot worse. You can’t believe how glad I am to see you.” Roger turned his head and used it to point to the driver. “Is he dead?”

  “I think so. Stay right there while I check to see he’s not a threat anymore.” The human mind is a strange thing. The most sarcastic of thoughts sometimes comes at the craziest time, and Roger’s was no exception. Stay right there? Did Bill seriously think he could jump up and run away? Even with his inhabitations and thought filters lowered to almost non-existent, Roger bit his tongue and said nothing. Bill quickly returned. “He won’t cause anyone any trouble anymore.”

  Bill looked at the expertly tied knots that held Roger. His pocket knife made quick work of them. “Thank you,” Roger said. He swung his legs out of the van side door and would have fallen out but for Bill’s quick hands.

  “Steady, old boy,” Bill said. “You act like you’re drugged.” “He shot something in me. Said it was elephant tranquilizer.” “I can believe that. Other than that, are you okay?”

  “I am, Bill. He had a world of hurt planned for me like all his other victims. Glad you showed up. How did you know?” Bill started to speak when two county deputies’ cars with blue lights flash - ing and sirens blaring pulled in followed by an equally loud and bright EMT box truck. “Roger, don’t go anywhere. I got to explain what’s going on to the new arrivals. Fortunately, I’m in uniform, and it will be simpler to explain.”