Marcie's Murder (12 page)

“
Sure you can leave, i
t’s already done,” he told her. “I’ve rented a place for you in town. It’s furnished. All you need’s your clothes and the kids’ stuff.”

She picked up a half-full ashtray and balanced it on
her
knees. “I ca
i
n’t.”

“Of course you can. Why couldn’t you?”

“It’s not right.”

“We’ve been through this before, Pricie
.
”
H
e fold
ed
his arms across his chest. “The guy’s no good. You’ve stuck with him for how many years now? And look at you. Every time I come around
it’s the same fucking thing
. You’ve got no money, you’re living in a dump, he’s never home, you don’t eat properly,
he’s going to
seriously
hurt you some day
,
and you’ve got no
Medicare
to pay for a doctor
. T
hen what?”

She shook her head slowly, not looking at him, exhaling smoke. “It’s not that bad.”

“It is and you know it.” He shook his head. “Get up and get dressed. Get the kids
’ stuff
and let’s get the hell out of here.”

“I ca
i
n’t leave,” Pricie said, looking at her cigarette. “Daddy
didn’t raise no quitters
.”

Their father had been a man of very high moral
s
tandards
, true enough
. Their mother had died when Billy was
eight
and Pricie was
five
, from a stomach infection of some kind. James Askew was an insurance investigator
based in the town of Tazewell
,
responsible for all claims within the county. W
hen his wife d
ied
,
he decided it was
necessary
to get off the road and stay at home with his two small children, so he requested a
demotion
to sales. Within a month one of the salesmen in the company’s three-man office in Harmony
died from
a heart attack and James
was offered the position.
They left Tazewell and moved into a small rented bungalow on Maple Street in Harmony
while James sold insurance policies door to door
.

In his previous responsibilities
,
James had investigated a number of disability claims filed by coal
workers
living in Harmony and the surrounding area, and had disallowed
several
. It made him very unpopular in town and the children suffered as a result.
Unlike James, who was passive in the face of hostility,
Billy learned very quickly how to defend himself with his fists. By the time he reached high school
,
he was known as a quiet, hardnosed kid who never backed down from a fight
and never stopped hitting until the other kid stopped moving or someone pulled him off
. He and Pricie had few friends.

Billy was a high school freshman when his father was
hit by a car
on Bluefield Street
driven
by a man who had a long-standing grudge against James for disallowing a claim for a back injury that had cost him his job in the mine. The man
had
contended
his
injur
y occurred
at work
but James prove
d
the man had hurt his back in a bar fight the weekend before. The ruling cost the man a great deal of money and he
’
d never forgiven James. He
’
d threatened him several times and finally, drunk at the wheel,
was
driving through town when he saw James crossing the street ahead of him. He floored the accelerator and
ran
him
down
. James died on the way to hospital.

Billy and Pricie left Harmony after the funeral to live with their mother’s older sister in Richlands. The woman was very religious and took in the children through a sense of duty to her deceased younger sister, but she was unable to hide her dislike
of them
.
When Billy heard that the man who
’
d run down his father was acquitted of manslaughter by a jury
including
people whose claims had been investigated at some point by James Askew, the news drove him deeper into himself.
It also strengthened his resolve to fight his way out of any corner in which life cared to pin him. He was damned if people would end up treating him the way they’d treated his father.

Billy finished high school in Richlands
,
and
one day shortly after graduation
met a
n
acquaintance
of his father’s while coming out of the Richlands police station
. Billy
explained he
’
d
just
applied for a job
there
.

“If you want to be a cop,” the man said, “you
should
apply back in Harmony. They’ve got an opening right now.”

Billy wasn’t sure how to respond.

“My cousin’s the sergeant there,” the man went on, oblivious to Billy’s hesitation. “He knew your dad. He’d put in a good word for you.”

Something clicked inside his head. He hated Harmony and everything it stood for, but what better way to balance the books than
to
return as a cop?

“Would you call your cousin?” he asked the man. “Tell him I’ll be down in the morning for an interview?”

“Sure enough,” the man replied, surprised. “Be glad to.”

Billy
Askew was hired as a patrol officer
a week later
.
After s
ix years the sergeant retired and Askew was promoted to replace him. He was young, smart, and tough, and he stood out head and shoulders above the other two
patrol officers who
applied for the position.
He remained
a
sergeant for the next fifteen years until the
c
hief’s job opened up. He applied for that job but David Morris, a lieutenant with the Richmond Police Department
at the time
, was hired instead.
That was five years ago.

Morris
was
a star candidate, a former college quarterback with a graduate degree in criminology, a year with the FBI and seven years with the Richmond PD. He came into town like a celebrity, went to dinner with the mayor at the best restaurant in Bluefield on the West Virginia side, and was offered the jo
b over brandy afterward
. Askew never stood a chance.

A year later, Morris resigned in order to run for
s
heriff in Tazewell. Askew was offered the vacant
c
hief’s position on an interim basis. The offer was made outside in the parking lot at five-thirty in the afternoon as Askew stood beside his car, about to
go
home.

“Interim,” Askew repeated.

“Until we can conduct another process,” Mayor Blankenship said. “Council would appreciate your help.”

“You already conducted a process,” Askew
replied
. “You said I did real fine, only that Morris was a once-in-a-lifetime thing or some
such
bullshit. You hold another process, I’ll do real fine again. Got another Morris up your sleeve? I doubt it. Give me the job straight out or you can shove it up your ass.”

He got in
to
his car and drove away
.

The next morning a messenger brought a letter of offer to
the police station with
Askew’s
name handwritten on the front of the envelope
. Askew signed the
offer
and moved his things
into the
c
hief’s office.
Three
months later he laughed
out loud
when the morning news said that Morris had lost the election for
c
ounty
s
heriff.

“I heard about Marcie
on the news
, Billy,”
Pricie
said
, breaking into his thoughts
. “I’m real sorry. She was a fine woman.”

“Thanks.”

“Strangled
.
”
H
er free hand mov
ed
to her own throat.

Askew said nothing.

She drew on her cigarette and slowly blew the smoke into the shaft of sunlight that crossed the room between them.
“What’ll you do to Jimmy?”

“What?”
Askew
asked
, distracted
.

“Are you going to beat up Jimmy again?”

“I’m not going to do nothing to that sonofabitch,” Askew said angrily. “I’m getting you the hell out of here, that’s what I’m doing. Now come on,
let’s
get moving.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “It’s not right.” She stubbed out the cigarette, put the ashtray
and blanket
aside and
stood up
. She was wearing
red panties and
a stained yellow t-shirt with a Care Bear on it. There were large bruises on the outside of her right thigh and calf where her husband had kicked her after knocking her down.

He turned away. “I’
ll pick up the kids after school and bring them to the new place
.
Now g
et dressed and
start
pack
ing
.”

“Just leave Jimmy alone, Billy.”

“We’ll see
about that
.
” Askew turn
ed
away.

The way he felt right now, i
f he saw Jimmy Neal again he
’d
probably
kill him with his bare hands.

1
2

The office was busy for a Tuesday morning as Hank and Karen pulled up chairs in front of Detective Hall’s desk. The civilian dispatcher, whose name was
Mollie Roberts
, chattered into her headset as she typed on her keyboard. Grimes was reorganiz
ing
the
office
files
,
carting armloads of
file folders
back and forth between his desk and the filing cabinets. Branham was on the phone in his office.
Askew’s door was open
but
the office was empty
.

Hall came out of the washroom next to the interview room and crossed over to his desk.

“I appreciate your helping out,” he said, slumping down into his chair.

“You look like something the dog threw up,” Karen said.

“Thanks.” Hall opened a slim file folder on his desk and glanced at the piece of paper on top. “E
-
mail to the
d
eputy
c
hief,” he said. “Autopsy’ll be done today.”

“You want to go over my statement?” Hank prompted. “Review the people I saw at the bar Saturday night?
Maybe show me some photos?
I take it you’ve identified most of them
by now
.”

Hall said nothing, looking down at the piece of paper.

Hank glanced at Karen. She mimed a drinking motion with her hand and rolled her eyes. Hank nodded. Hall was clearly hung over and struggling to get his body under control. It was a good
thing
there wasn’t much violent crime in the area, if this is what Harmony had to offer in terms of investigation.

Hall looked up. “Billy spoke to Jord
an
Bickell
Saturday
night,” he said in a low voice. “He was the manager on duty.
A
s soon as Jablonski came inside with his story
,
Bickell
went out with him and took a look, then
closed the place down
and sent the waitresses home. They close at two
,
anyway
s
. He told
Billy
he’d talked to Mullins on the phone, the owner of the place, and Mullins told him not to tell us anything. Billy was about to tear him a new one when he got the word on you and headed right off to the motel.”