Secrets in the Shallows (Book 1: The Monastery Murders) (19 page)

“And did it?”

“No, it got worse ... much worse. Carter tried calling me on my cell, and I caught him staring at me all the time. I even think he was stalking me. Let me tell you this; I kept seeing him everywhere. It seemed he would follow me around at least a couple of places almost every day. I know how Carter is, and he doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants.”

Pausing she said, “He scares me. That’s when I wrote the note. I haven’t been that talkative to Timmy; because I was afraid that Carter would come after him. I guess I was trying to protect him.”

“Did Timmy ever talk to you about this note?”

“Yes, and he was very upset about it, but couldn’t believe his friend would do something like that to him. Timmy was trying to figure out how to confront him about it. Of course, I told him not to worry, and nothing was going on with me and Carter. However, he knew how uncomfortable it was making me.”

“Did Timmy believe you?”

“I don’t think he did at first, but then I’m sure he changed his mind after he went over to Carter’s house. I secretly followed him and spied on them from the bushes so they wouldn’t see me. I was scared for him, especially when I heard yelling from the front door; then I saw Carter push Timmy to the ground.”

Lisa looked away from the sheriff. Another tear ran down her cheek. “I remember Carter screaming,
‘I’m gonna’ get you good! I promise she will be mine!’
Next thing I heard, Timmy was dead. Carter was
supposed
to be his best friend.”

Sheriff looked over the top of his glasses. “Ummmm. That is strange.”

Glancing at the note in his hand, Sheriff Johnson said, “Lisa, I’m sorry I can’t let you keep this, because I need it as evidence. I will probably need to ask additional questions as I find out more information on the case. If it was Carter, I’ll need you to testify in court once it goes to trial.” With that, Sheriff Johnson stood to his feet. Replacing his hat on his head, he added, “Thank you for your time, Lisa and Mrs. Tucker. You have been very helpful.”

Ann stood up and walked over towards the door to open it as the sheriff zipped his coat up.

Almost unable to refrain from crying, Lisa said, “Sheriff, find the person who did this. Please?”

Gently patting her on the arm, he softly said, “I’m working on it. You try to sleep. Okay?”

Reaching the doorway, Sheriff Johnson turned around and said, “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

Lisa bit her bottom lip as she softly replied, “Okay, Sheriff.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Ann said.

“You’re welcome. Just doing my job.” Nodding politely, Sheriff Johnson headed down the sidewalk and got into his cruiser then closed the door. Turning the key, he shifted his gear into
drive
and sped away in a hurry.
I know exactly what I need to do next,
he thought as he headed down the road.

* * * *

Meanwhile at the monastery, the deputies returned to the cruiser after their discussion with Mother Mary Ellen and opened the trunk. They retrieved an evidence kit from the trunk and then trudged through the snow toward the blood covered statue. As they approached, they could see a set of tracks in the snow coming to and from the woods.

Deputy Williams pointed to the tracks and said, “Can you get some pictures of those tracks and see if there are any decent imprints in the snow? Also don’t forget to find the stride length. I’ll check out the statue.”

“Why do you get all the fun parts?” Shamberg chuckled as he got out a camera and walked toward the tracks. He began taking pictures and measuring the tracks.

Williams walked over toward the statue, glistening in the sun with the dark, syrupy blood covering the Blessed Mother’s head. Oblivious to the deer head resting in her arms, she continued gazing at her rosary beads and silently praying. The vacant eyes of the deer stared at the deputy as he set his kit down on a nearby bench and took out some latex gloves.

As Deputy Williams took out his camera, he made sure to get photos from every angle. He spoke to his colleague. “We’ve been unusually busy this week. I can’t say that I enjoy it though.” Taking out a swab kit, he took samples of the blood and sealed it up in a bag. Marking it appropriately, he took out a large evidence bag and gently picked up the deer head.

“Me either, Williams. I would much prefer having a quiet town to all of this.”

Holding up the deer head, Deputy Williams chuckled, “Venison anyone?”

“No, thanks!” Shamberg laughed. “I can only imagine where that has been.”

“Me too,” Deputy Williams replied, chuckling.

“These imprints would belong to someone 5’9 to 5’11. Do you think it’s related to the body being found, or just a coincidence?”

“It does seems strange it happened right after Timmy’s body was found.” Williams shrugged and said, “It’s possible, but kind’of hard to tell from what we see right now. Maybe there will be something on the deer head that will give us some clues we need.”

“I hope so. We already have a lot going on. It’d be nice for it to be something easier to solve.”

“We’ll see. I’ll leave that to the geek squad to figure out. I heard that the sheriff may call on the state’s forensics team for this one. It’s a little more than what we’re prepared to handle with our staff.”

Deputy Williams smiled and said, “I hope so. We can use the help.”

“I agree,” Deputy Shamberg commented. “It’d be nice to see what they can do.”

Williams nodded as the pair continued to gather their evidence while the sun beamed down from the deep blue sky. “Let’s hurry and get this done so we can get back to the department. I still have a ton of stuff to do today. Plus, the Fields are coming in around two to get their prints taken.”

“Fine by me,” Shamberg replied as he finished jotting down some notes for his record.

C
HAPTER
17

Herbert and Margie Fields parked in the lot adjacent to the police station. The old New England Cape Code style building had been the home of the Wattsville Sheriff’s Department for many decades, and stood imposingly near the county courthouse.

The Fields couple walked arm-in-arm up the steps to the front door. Herbert opened the door for his wife to enter first. In the main lobby, they approached a massive counter that actually extended the length of the room. A deputy and a secretary earnestly typed away on computers, barely stopping long enough to look up at the grieving parents. A coffee table reminiscent of the 70s was nestled the corner, alongside a leather couch where an elderly woman sat patiently waiting.

Hanging from the wall on the far end of the room was a rather large portrait. The stoic gaze from the eyes of George Washington were focused on the doorway. An American flag had been appropriately placed next to America’s first president. On the opposite wall, oil paintings of Jefferson, Adams and Lincoln looked toward the flag from the other side of the lobby. Above the presidential portrait display, a flag depicting the thirteen colonies was mounted respectfully on the wall.

Herbert addressed a desk clerk, “We are Herbert and Margie Fields. We’re supposed to meet with Sheriff Johnson at 2 p.m.”

As Deputy Williams passed by in an adjacent hallway, he saw the Fields at the counter and walked in to greet them. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Fields. Thank you for coming so quickly. Sheriff is taking care of a few things before he meets with you, but I can go ahead and take care of your prints while you wait.”

“Thank you, Deputy. We want to do anything we can to help solve our son’s murder. Is there any news yet?”

“Go ahead and follow me while we talk, please.”

Margie and Herbert followed the deputy down the long wooden hallway.

Deputy Williams continued, “It’s still too early to know very much. We are working on the evidence we’ve gathered. It will take some time to find the person who did this.”

Reaching a small room, the deputy flicked on the light as they entered. An Automated Fingerprint Identification System (AFIS) machine set ominously in front of them on the table. Deputy Williams held out the ink and Herbert pressed his fingertips down on the black foam.

Williams smiled, “It’s not like it used to be where you had to press your fingers down on a card. We have the latest technology. All you have to do is place your hand on this glass and the machine takes a picture. That’s it.”

Herbert pressed his right hand down on the glass and watched the machine copy his prints. Margie did the same, and within minutes, their fingerprint identities were in the system.

Deputy Williams gave them wipes to clean off their hands and then lead them to an interrogation room nearby. “I’ll let Sheriff Johnson know you’re here. He’ll be right in.”

“Thank you, Deputy,” Herbert replied as he and his wife sat down on the uncomfortable chairs.

The deputy excused himself and walked out the door.

* * * *

Deputy Williams rapped on Sheriff Johnson’s office.

“Come on in,” the sheriff’s voice sounded through the door.

Cracking the door, Williams peeked in and said, “Sir, the Fields are here waiting for you in
Interrogation Room 2
. By the way, we’ve already run a comparison on the prints we found in Timmy’s room. We found a print that doesn’t belong to Herbert, Margie or Timmy.” Williams walked over and handed the paperwork to his boss.

The sheriff looked at the folder and asked, “Do you know whose prints they belong to yet?”

“Yes. It’s Carter Spurlock.”

Sheriff shook his head, “That doesn’t surprise me in the least. Timmy and Carter were inseparable since kindergarten. He was at their house all the time. They were best friends, especially since Tom Green had committed suicide.” Sheriff Johnson stared out the window. After a long pause, he turned to the deputy and said, “Get him in here, today.”

“Yes, sir.” Williams left immediately to obey his orders.

* * * *

Herbert and Margie Fields held hands as they waited impatiently in the interrogation room. Finally, the door cracked open after someone rapped on it. Sheriff Johnson walked in, followed by Deputy Shamberg.

The sheriff reached his arm out and shook Herbert’s hand. “Hello, again. I apologize for the delay and appreciate your patience.”

Margie replied, “We thought you had forgotten about us.”

The sheriff furrowed his brow and said, “I would never do that.”

Margie did her best to smile, and grabbed Herbert’s hand again as she said, “Sheriff, you said you wanted to ask us some questions?”

Sheriff Johnson sat down across from the Fields as Deputy Shamberg stood quietly in the corner behind him. “Yes, Margie. Can either of you think of anyone who would want to harm your son?”

Herbert looked the sheriff in the eyes and replied, “We cannot think of anyone that would want to hurt, and especially our boy.”

The sheriff took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. “Did he have any problems at school that I should be concerned about?”

Margie shook her head and replied, “Timmy could be a bit mischievous, but he was a good boy at heart. He would be forgetful about simple things; however he was never mean-spirited, or did anything to harm anyone on purpose.”

“How was his relationship with his girlfriend, Lisa?”

Herbert said, “He and Lisa got along very well. They planned on going to college together, wherever they could both get in. After graduating, they wanted to get married and settle down. He really did not get in trouble other than stupid things like normal kids do.”

The sheriff furrowed his brow and asked, “What kinds of things?”

“Like getting a speeding ticket a few months ago, and not following the dress code at school. Just simple stuff, like I said. In fact, I think we already told you that on the day he went missing, he had to stay a couple of hours after school to help with some chores. Apparently, he had forgotten to shave like he’s supposed to ... rather,
was
supposed to.” Herbert’s voice trailed off as he realized that his son was gone and would not need to follow those rules anymore.

“I see,” Sheriff Johnson replied. “We found a note in his room from Lisa. Seems that she was getting irritated at Carter Spurlock for trying to make advances towards her. Do you know anything about that at all?”