A Wedding and a Killing (14 page)

“Twerpie.” Marilyn Newton nodded her head. “That’s what I call him.”

“Twerpie,” Bogie chuckled.

“Because he’s a twerp,” she replied. “He’s the idiot across the road who Po Bear made scream like a little girl.”

“Clark doesn’t go to our church.” Bogie asked, “Why did he threaten Eugene?”

“Because Eugene revealed him for the dirty snake in the grass that he is,” Marilyn said. “Eugene made a fool out of him and cost him a whole lot of money to boot.”

“How?” Bogie asked.

“Bill Clark wanted the church shut down,” Marilyn said, “on account that our property is prime real estate, being right on the lake shore and all. Well, the Spencer family gave the property to the church over a hundred years ago.”

Bogie was nodding his head. “Spencer history. Everyone knows that.”

“Did you know that a real estate developer bought the property across the road from the church to put in condos? Of course, he could sell them for a higher price if he had a clubhouse and docks right on the lake. The only problem was the church was on that land.” Marilyn shrugged. “No problem. The town council decided to petition to change the zoning for the church property to residential, claiming that we were violating the zoning, even though we’ve been there for a hundred years. Well, that failed miserably. Then, Bill Clark had his lawyer use all kinds of legal loopholes and challenged our non-profit tax status to have us shut down. No one expected Ed Willingham to represent us.”

“Why did Bill Clark go to so much trouble to have you shut down?” David found his voice to ask.

“I thought it was vengeance against us because of Po Bear,” Marilyn said. “But Eugene smelled something fishy and swore there had to be more to it than that. So he went digging. Sure enough, Eugene found out that Bill Clark was a silent partner of this development company. That was why he wanted us shut down. If we lost our tax-exempt status, we’d have no choice but to sell the property to pay our taxes. Then the development company could buy it cheap and convert the building into a clubhouse for the condos, which were residential, and put in docks.”

“Snake,” Bogie said.

“Eugene collected all of the evidence to prove it and Willingham gave it to the judge.” She laughed. “In the end, Ed Willingham got Clark to pay the church’s legal fees, too.” She added in a low whisper, “I think Eugene and Willingham uncovered something else that Clark did that was dirty. I heard the whole thing cost him two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars in the end.”

“Did Clark know Eugene was the one who uncovered everything?” David asked.

“Oh, yes,” Marilyn said. “I heard him tell Eugene, right in the elevator after he got reamed by the judge for trying to shut down a church. Twerpie poked Eugene in the chest with his finger and said that he was going to make Eugene pay—one way or another—he was going to teach him a lesson for getting in his way.” She gasped. “Could that be it? Do you think Bill Clark made my Eugene pay by killing him? Would he do something that evil?”

“The Bill Clark I know would,” Bogie said.

Chapter Twelve

“You knew nothing about Bill Clark’s vendetta against the church?” Mac asked Bogie and David upon meeting with them in the police chief’s upper floor, corner office after Marilyn Newton had left.

Marilyn was on her way to meet with Eugene’s lawyer to set up some tax shelters for the bundle her cheap husband had left her; after which, she was going to the manicurist for a re-do. Tonya had suggested white tips, also known as a French manicure.

“It all happened before I started going there,” Bogie explained, “and David was in Afghanistan. It was in the state court system and dealt with tax issues.”

David lifted his head from where he was holding it in his hands. “So our department was completely out of the loop.”

“Because of what Eugene uncovered,” Bogie resumed, “the whole case was thrown out and according to the judge’s ruling, it was never to be brought up again.”

“And Bill Clark ended up exposed for the snake he is,” Ed Willingham announced when he made his entrance into David’s office. “I see you found out about your town councilman’s motive for wanting to get rid of Eugene Newton.”

Ed held the door open for Chelsea and her service dog to come in. Ben Fleming, the county prosecutor, was directly behind his assistant.

Upon seeing Molly, Gnarly leapt down from where he was getting a belly rub from Archie on the chief’s sofa to gallop across the room to greet the white German shepherd. Their tails wagging, they danced around each other before settling down in a ray of sunshine beaming in through the window.

“While flying out here, I remembered Bill Clark’s shenanigans.” The high-priced attorney jerked a thumb in the prosecutor’s direction. “Ben here and I talked about it on the way in from the airport.”

Behind his desk, David laid his head back and massaged his temples with his fingertips until Chelsea went behind his chair to take over. “But that was all years ago.”

Ben Fleming said, “You know as well as anyone in this room, David, that Bill Clark is an arrogant, vindictive—vindictive being the operative term here—SOB.”

“Twerp,” Bogie quoted Marilyn Newton.

Ben agreed. “Twerp.”

“Did Clark know that Newton dug up the information that got his case against the church thrown out of court?” Mac asked.

“Yes,” Willingham said, “but that wasn’t half as painful as the other information that Newton uncovered.” He chuckled. “Eugene Newton was almost as good as Archie.”

“Almost, but not quite,” she replied.

“What else did he find out?” Bogie asked.

“Bill Clark had not one,” Willingham held up a finger, “but two,” he held up a second finger, “overseas accounts in which he had a couple of million dollars hidden.”

“From the IRS?” Chelsea asked.

“Almost as bad,” Willingham said.

“His wife,” Mac guessed.

Willingham nodded his head. “You see, back then Clark was in the process of a divorce. He had this money socked away and Eugene found it. He knew exactly what Clark was doing and that was when Clark threatened Eugene in the elevator.”

“If word got to the right people about the millions he had hidden away, it would have cost him a whole lot of money,” Mac said. “Did Eugene keep his mouth shut?”

Willingham shot Mac a coy grin. “Yes,
Eugene
didn’t say a word.”

“How about
you
?” Mac asked.

Willingham clasped his chest in a melodramatic manner. “Mac, I’m shocked that you would suggest such a thing.
I
am a lawyer. There are
laws
against divulging information—”

“Bill Clark was never your client,” Archie interjected.

“He was trying to shut down a hundred-year-old church for his own financial gain.” Willingham took in a deep breath before he said with a drawl, “I
may
have slipped a few account numbers to the mother of one of my daughter’s little friends while waiting for the girls to finish their ballet lesson; and
maybe
that mother
happened
to be a divorce lawyer who
happened
to be representing Bill Clark’s soon to be ex-wife, and it
may
have cost him a million or so dollars.”

“Maybe.” Mac grinned.

“Just maybe.”

Mac turned to Bogie. “How long ago was all this?”

“Five years at least,” Willingham answered. “It was long before you came to Deep Creek Lake, Mac. Your mother was still alive. She was the one who hired me to represent the church after Reverend Hess called her in tears about what was happening. That was when I met those folks at Spencer Church.”

“They’re all good people,” Ben said in a somber tone.

“They certainly are,” Willingham agreed.

David sat up in his seat. “Why would Clark have motive to kill Eugene
now?”

“Revenge is best served cold,” Archie replied.

“Clark never learned his lesson,” Ben Fleming said. “About two weeks ago, wife number two walked in on Clark trying out an applicant for role of his latest mistress. The wife walked out, went straight to a divorce lawyer, and filed for a legal separation.”

“Would Eugene Newton even care?” Bogie asked. “They don’t hang out with the same crowd. They live across the street from each other—”

“The only reason Eugene uncovered Clark’s dirty business before was because he came after Eugene’s church,” Willingham said. “That whole condo thing went up in smoke after the bottom dropped out of the real estate market.”

“Then, as far as we know, Clark has no motive for killing Eugene now,” David said with a sigh of relief. “Helga Thorpe has a stronger motive. Plus, she has access to a forty-five caliber semi-automatic—which happens to be missing, along with her.”

“Then focus on Helga Thorpe,” Ben Fleming said. “But I think it would be prudent to check out Bill Clark as well. He’s not the type to let someone get away with upsetting his apple cart.”

Bogie nodded his head to indicate that he understood. “I’ll go digging around Clark’s records to see if there’s any recent activity that may warrant us questioning him.”

Bogie and Mac noted an uncomfortable expression that filled David’s face. Questioning the town councilman was the last thing the police chief wanted to do. It would serve to add yet another reason for the spiteful politician to want David O’Callaghan fired.

It was only due to the support of the other members of the town council who deeply respected David’s military record and paternity that he had been hired for the position in the first place. Ironically, it was because of David’s military record that Clark wanted to ruin the police chief he blamed for his sister’s death.

Mac glanced up from David’s face, which was pale, to see that Bogie was equally concerned about the prospect of questioning Bill Clark. He wondered if David had confided in the deputy chief about the reason behind Bill Clark’s grudge against him.

With the rest of the staff out on patrol or keeping Ruth Buchanan under surveillance at the church, Tonya was alone at the front desk when the door flew open. The abrupt nature of the entrance made her reach for the weapon she wore on her hip.

Seeing an older couple walk in, she relaxed until she saw the hard expression on the man’s face.

A head shorter than her companion, the female half of the couple was reed thin. Her frame appeared even thinner in her oversized dress that sported long sleeves. Clinging to her purse with both hands, she worked her bony fingers into the leather bag.

The sight of the uniformed female officer filled the male visitor with disdain. His dark eyes bore into her. He squared his broad shoulders and sucked in his bulging stomach to expand his barrel chest before demanding, “I want to talk to your police chief.”

“I’m sorry, sir, he’s in a meeting,” Tonya replied. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but this is extremely important,” he answered. “He’s got a murderer right here in his town and I want to know what he’s doing about it.”

“It’s never been proven that—” his companion interjected.

“Shut up!” He whirled around to backhand her across the face. “I’ve had enough of you yapping about innocent until proven guilty. That’s a bunch of crap.”

Tonya’s jaw dropped. For a full moment, she didn’t move.
Seriously? Did this guy just walk into a police station and slap someone right in front of me—a uniformed officer?

Her nose bleeding, the woman dropped back against the wall.

“You’re under arrest, sir!” Tonya jumped up from her seat and grabbed her handcuffs from the case on her utility belt. “Put your hands on top of your head.”

“Go to hell!” He whirled around with a laugh. “Get me your boss!”

“You’re under arrest for assault, sir! Lay down spread eagle on the floor and put your hands on top of your head.”

Holding her bleeding nose, the woman stared wide eyed at Tonya.

“No!” He shoved the middle-aged female officer back with both hands. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with, bitch!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, bucko!” Tonya whipped her baton out of her belt. “I know exactly what I’m dealing with.” She rammed the end of the baton directly into his diaphragm. The air knocked out of him, he doubled over. With a twirl of the baton, Tonya wacked him across the base of the neck to send him down flat on the floor.

Refusing to be shown up by a woman, he grabbed Tonya’s ankle and yanked her foot out from under her. But before he could gain an advantage, Tonya rolled over, dropped down on top of him, and wailed away at him with the baton to strike him on the head and shoulders.

“Hit him again!” Shocked by her outburst, the woman clapped both hands over her mouth.

Completely overtaken by fury over his arrogance, Tonya pinned one of her opponent’s arms behind his back with his wrist wrapped around the baton. “Not so tough now!” she gasped out at him.

“Wait until your boss finds out what you did, bitch!” he grunted out. “You’re going to pay!”

“No,” Tonya said, “you are. I’ll teach you to hit women.”

With a hand on both ends of the baton, she twisted until she heard the snap of his arm out of his shoulder socket. His gut wrenching scream of pain sounded like music to her ears. When Tonya looked up at his companion, she saw a wide smile filling her bloody face.

“What’s going on here?”

Tonya realized that they were no longer alone. The fight had drawn David, Bogie, and everyone out of his office on the second floor. She was still sprawled out on top of the man, pinning him to the floor, when she noticed her audience. “I’m arresting this man for assault, Chief.”

“This bitch attacked me,” the man yelled. “She broke my arm. I’m suing the whole lot of you.”

David regarded the woman with the bloody nose. “Did this man strike you, ma’am?”

Seeing the blood, Chelsea had rushed to the water cooler to wet a paper towel to clean her up.

The woman looked around the reception area at the two uniformed officers, the two men in suits, and the two women. Plus, there were two German shepherds. The white one was licking her bloody hand.

“Tell us what happened, ma’am,” Bogie urged her. “You’re safe here. If he hurt you, we’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Tonya was cuffing her prisoner. “Go ahead, ma’am. Tell him.” She told David and Bogie, “I saw the whole thing. He backhanded her right in front of me. I couldn’t believe it. Like he didn’t see my badge and thought I wouldn’t arrest him?”

“They’re lying,” the man objected. “You know how these bitches are. They stick together. The idiot walked into the wall!”

“No, I didn’t!” the woman blurted out. “He slapped me.” She pointed to the man on the floor. “And then when your officer told him that she was arresting him, he shoved her. That was when she took him down.” She grinned. “Most beautiful thing I ever saw.”

David squatted down to peer at the man struggling against the handcuffs. “You touched one of my police officers? In my station? How stupid are you?”

The cuffed man’s face contorted in pain from the dislocated shoulder. “Just you wait. I’m Reese Fairbanks, the father of the man Scarlett Fairbanks shot in cold blood. Once my lawyer has a word with your prosecutor about how your officer treated the father of a murder victim, you’ll be changing your tune.”

“I don’t think so,” Ben Fleming said. “I am the county prosecutor and we don’t take too kindly to men beating up women or shoving police officers in these parts. You’re going to be spending some time in our jail. If you’re smart, you’ll learn some manners while you’re there.”

“Never!” he alternated between cursing and screaming out in pain when Bogie lifted him to his feet. While doing so, Bogie made no attempt to be careful of his dislocated shoulder.

“Let’s make arrangements to transport him to the hospital to have his shoulder checked out.” David patted Tonya on the back. “Good job, Tonya. I hope you taught this man a lesson.”

“He’d have to have brains to learn anything,” Tonya replied quickly before hurrying to where Chelsea and Archie were comforting the woman.

Kneeling in front of her, Ben Fleming was holding the victim’s hand. “I give you my promise, Mrs. Fairbanks, no man lays a hand on his wife in my jurisdiction and gets away with it. I don’t care how much money he has.”

“You don’t know how powerful Reese is,” she said.

“Your husband can’t touch anyone here,” Mac said. “No one he can bribe, no one whose mortgage he can buy.”

She gazed up at where Mac stood behind Ben with his arms folded across his chest. “You’ve been talking to Scarlett,” she said in a hushed voice.

“Yes.”

“How is she?” Her eyes filled with tears. “Holly?”

“She’s fine,” Mac said. “They’re both fine.”

“She’s got a whole slew of friends who love and have been taking very good care of them,” Archie said. “And she’s got the best lawyer in the country to defend her.”

“I’d like to think I’m the best in the world.” Ed Willingham stepped forward.

“They say Scarlett killed my son,” she said, “but no one understands what he had put her through. If they knew the truth about what he did to her and Holly then … If there’s anything I can do to help in her defense …”

“We’ll be glad to accept your offer of help,” Ed said.

“In the meantime, Mrs. Fairbanks …” David said.

“Call me Jenny,” she interjected. “Frankly, I’ve come to hate my husband’s name.”

“Jenny,” David flashed her his most charming smile. “I’d like for you to go to the hospital so that they can check you out.”

“My nose has stopped bleeding,” she said.

David shook his head. “We’re going to press charges against your husband and we’re going to make sure we do everything by the book. Tonya will drive you.”

“I’ll come, too.” Archie patted her hand.

“I’ll send an officer to the hospital to take your statement and we’ll make sure you have a safe place to stay,” David said.

While the women gathered together to go to the hospital, Mac exchanged glances with David, Ben Fleming, and not the least, Ed Willingham. By the time they had left, taking Gnarly and Molly with them, the defense attorney was openly grinning.

“I guess things are really shaping up for Ruth Buchanan, or Scarlett Fairbanks, whatever you want to call her,” Ed said. “The mother of the victim has volunteered to help in her defense. Once a jury hears that, they’ll refuse to convict.”

“If the case gets to a jury,” Mac said.

“You don’t think…” Ben asked.

“I don’t think she did it,” Mac said. “Ruth Buchanan says she shot her husband twice. Shoulder and leg. He was shot three times. Plus, he had a blood soaked towel in his lap where it looks like he was tending to one of the shots. That indicates time between the first two shots and the kill shot to the head.”

“Why didn’t Ruth say she was innocent from the beginning?” the prosecutor asked.

“I don’t think she knew,” Mac said. “Archie only found out about the third shot in the police reports.”

David said, “Most likely, the investigators kept the number of shots from the media.”

“All these years, Ruth thought she killed her husband and the father of her child,” Mac said. “In reality, someone came in to finish the job and let her take the blame.”

“Any idea who that someone is?” Ed Willingham asked. “The best case for her defense is that she didn’t do it. If we can finger someone else—”

“Jason Fairbanks liked to beat up women,” Mac said. “I’d like to start with his mistress. Who else would he call after his wife shot him?”

“I can tell you right now that if you set foot in that town to defend the accused killer of Jason Fairbanks, you’re going to have trouble,” Ed Willingham said. “According to my background check on the Fairbanks, Reese Fairbanks rules that town—literally. He owns the bank and mortgages. I suspect he has the county prosecutor in his pocket, as well as the sheriff. That’s why Jenny was so hesitant to admit that he slapped her. It took her a while to realize that we were out of her husband’s reach.”

“Then I guess when Archie and I go up there,” Mac said, “we’re going to have to go in through the back door.”

“And while you’re up there going through the back door,” David said, “Ben and I will keep Reese Fairbanks locked up down here.”

Rubbing his hands together, the county prosecutor uttered an evil chuckle. “I love this part of the job.”