South River Incident (10 page)

“Pull up a chair,” he said.
“Let’s do some searching.”

We spent the next hour
going through the police report, autopsy report, and every other thing we could
find out about the case. It was apparent that someone had gone to great lengths
to put me in the hot seat.

“This is just too neat,”
Billy murmured, clicking away at the keys.

Finally, a screen appeared
displaying a bank statement. It was Billy’s.

“Oh, no! Tell me this isn’t
happening.”

“What’s the matter, Billy?”

He swiveled his chair
around and looked at me. “On November the tenth, I made a deposit into my
account for forty-six thousand dollars—almost the same amount as the ransom
money.”

This was news to me. I
didn’t realize Billy handled that kind of money. Most of the money we’ve
collected from our clients ranged from a couple of thousand to anywhere around
ten thousand, but never that much at one time. This was a real shocker.

“Maybe you should tell me
where you got that kind of money, because it looks like they’ve implicated both
of us.” I didn’t want to appear nosey, but I had a feeling this was only going
to get worse and we had to stick together. “Was it legal?”

“Yes, it was legal!” He got
up and paced around the room. “It was the money that Robert gave me. I had lent
him money to start up his restaurant some years back. He needed about fifty
thousand dollars so I lent him what I could. The deal was, when his restaurant
got on its feet, he would pay me back. Well, he paid me back in cash.”

“I could see how that
deposit might create a problem, but you have Robert to back you up. I’m sure he
can clear up this matter for you.”

“Yeah, but it still could
get messy. Robert’s my brother. The police automatically assume one family
member will lie for the other. Besides, this was a cash deal. That might
complicate things.”

“Undoubtedly, Robert will
have a record of the money he withdrew from the bank, wouldn’t he?”

“Most likely, unless this
was cash that he put aside from his profits over a period of time.”

“But who could do that?
When you start up a business, it’s a long time before you see any profits. That
would make it almost impossible for anyone to be able to stash away any extra
money, especially this much.”

“I don’t know. He paid me
back. That’s all that mattered at the time. I’ll talk to him about it later.
I’m not going to worry about it now.”

“Well, with that problem on
the back burner, what’s next?”

Billy walked back over and
sat down at the computer. “The first thing we’re going to do is print out everything
in this file. Then we’re going to pay a visit to Roy Keen.” He clicked a few
keys, and the printer started spewing out pages. “We’ll see what he has to
say.”

“Are you sure we should do
that? He could be dangerous. Did it ever occur to you that he might have killed
his wife?”

“I’d bet my money on it.
I’ve had my doubts from the start about the whole kidnapping deal. Nobody in
their right mind would pay a ransom without having the police get involved if
they wanted to get their loved one back alive. He probably killed her and set
us up to take the fall. But why did he choose us? We didn’t know either one of
them.”

“You think going to see Roy
Keen is going to give us any answers?”

“We have to start
somewhere. I have a feeling once we talk to him, we’ll know exactly where he
stands. If he’s got something to hide, we’ll be able to tell. His lies will
show on his face.”

“Suppose he didn’t kill his
wife? What if he really believes I did it? I could be walking into a bad
situation.”

“He’s not going to do anything
to you. I won’t let him.”

“I feel better already.
I’ll go get my stuff together. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

I walked back to the
bedroom and collected my handbag and briefcase, stuffed a fresh change of
clothing and some toiletries in a duffel bag, and went back to the living room.
I had everything I needed for a day with Billy. My gun (which I now had a
permit to carry), tape recorder, and cell phone were all in my briefcase. I had
my purse and some clothes. I was covered from all angles. “I’m ready,” I said,
setting my stuff in a pile in the middle of the floor. “Let’s roll.”

“Just one more minute. I
want to finish printing this out.”

The temperature outside was
in the upper forties, and even with slight gusts of wind, Thanksgiving Day was
turning out to be decent after all. The ground was soggy from the melted snow,
but at least it wasn’t frozen.

“What are we going to say
to this guy when we get to his house?” I asked Billy. I climbed into the cab of
his Dodge pickup and stuffed all my junk behind the seat.

To avoid tipping Roy Keen’s
hand as to our identity, we decided not to take my Jeep. Billy was sure he
would recognize it since he most likely was in on this whole set-up fiasco.

Instead of answering my
question, Billy turned the truck around and headed out of the driveway.

“I’ve been thinking,” I
said, when we pulled out onto the main road. “Maybe somewhere along the line,
you’ve inadvertently had a run-in with this guy, and you just don’t remember.”

“I’ve been racking my
brain, but can’t come up with anyone.”

“Maybe he’s friends with
someone you helped put away, and he’s paying you back by going through me.”

“To be honest,” Billy said.
He turned onto Rt. 29. “I think the watch was a fluke. I think the picture was
a coincidence, too. Robert is always taking pictures of his customers and
putting them up on his bulletin board. Anyone could have taken the picture down
and turned it in to the police. Maybe the police found it. Concerning the
choice of the location of where the body was dumped, I think the killer just
picked a place out in the middle of nowhere. He probably figured no one would
find it until spring. That’s been known to happen. You could dump a body out
here in the winter and it might not show up until someone stumbles onto it when
the snow melts. Most of the time a hunter is the one who’ll find it.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t a
hunter this time. We have Athena and Thor to thank for this. They’re the ones
who dragged that hand home.”

“Perhaps we should add them
to our team.”

“That’s not a bad idea. I
can see it now... the four of us out on a stakeout and the minute the wind
blows, they both start howling.”

Billy and I continued down
Rt. 29. The traffic was awful.

“According to this file
Billy, Roy and Mary live off
Celt Road
. That’s the same road where the schools are located.
It runs right into town.”

“And…”

“If he killed her, don’t
you think he would have picked a location to dump the body a little farther
away from home?
Celt Road
isn’t far from Mom’s. It’s probably ten minutes at
the most.”

“He could’ve gotten scared
and panicked. Fear makes people do strange things. You know what it’s like.”

“What about this kidnapping
deal?” I asked, looking through the paperwork. “There’s no witness to
substantiate his claim. Perhaps he made the whole thing up. He’s a thief, why
not a liar?”

“I’ve thought about that,
too.”

“Maybe they had a fight.
Things got out of control and he accidentally killed her. Then he came up with
a plan to cover up what he had done.”

“I think we’re grasping at
straws.”

We had just turned onto the
Rt. 33 by-pass when I gasped at Billy in horror. I couldn’t believe what I had
read.

“Oh, crap, did you read
this autopsy report? She was full of drugs and alcohol. It says here she had
marijuana, coke, valium and methaqualone in her system. What’s methaqualone?”

“Quaalude is the brand
name, Ludes is the shorten version. They’re heavy-duty tranquilizers. On the
street they sell for five bucks a piece. They’re one of the strongest
tranquilizers there is on the market. If you took one of those, you would be
stoned out of your mind for several hours, if it didn’t knock you out first. In
your case, it would probably put you in a coma. I didn’t think doctors
prescribed them anymore.”

“Are you serious?”

“Don’t you know anything
about drugs?”

“Sure, I do,” I snickered.
“I was a teenager once.”

“If she took a Quaalude,
she was pretty much out of it. She could’ve fallen and hurt herself, and
wouldn’t know it until later.”

“But she died from a blow
to the head. Did you look at this diagram of the body? It’s not a pretty
sight.”

“Yes, I did. She had a
fractured skull, and bruises all over her body. There were lacerations on both
legs. You name it.”

“But why cut off her hand?
If they did it to cover up the fingerprints...”

“Her hand wasn’t cut off.”
He glanced at me, then back to the road. “I think we need to make a turn here.
What’s the house number?”

I shuffled through the
papers until I found the address. “It’s
72374
Celt Road
. Where’s that? ”

Billy hit the turn signal
and made a left turn.

“How did you know to turn
left? Are you that familiar with this area?”

“There’re about ten houses
over by the school so it only makes sense that the rest is in this direction.
This road runs at least fourteen miles to the left and one mile to the right.
That many numbers mean a lot of houses. See?”

“Oh, you’re so smart
Billy.”  I fluttered my eyelids at him, trying to be cute. Then the severed
hand flashed up in my head.

“What do you mean, the hand
wasn’t cut off?”

“I hate to say this, but I
think one of the dogs chewed it off.”

“They wouldn’t do that!”

“They might have if they
were trying to drag the body home. Remember, the body was frozen to the ground.
The hand would have been something they could get in their mouth. One of them
chomped down on the wrist and started tugging.”

“That’s a terrible thought.
It almost makes me sick.”

“Hey, they probably thought
they were helping. They knew it was a person and they were going to drag it
home. That was the only thing they could do. Dogs are, by nature, rescuers.
It’s in their makeup to save us from harm. As much as you watch television, I
would have thought that you would know this about our four-legged friends. As a
child, didn’t you ever watch Lassie?”

“Yes, but I never saw
Lassie chew off someone’s hand.”

“They wouldn’t show
something like that on TV.”

“Yuck! Stop it before I
throw up! My stomach can handle but so much.”

“I’m sorry, but I was just
trying to tell you how it could have happened. I didn’t want you to think that
the dogs were making a meal out of her body. Domesticated dogs won’t eat human
flesh, unless...”

“That’s disgusting, Billy.
I wasn’t even thinking of anything like that. Yuck... you’ve put that awful
picture in my head.”

“I’m sorry, Jesse.”

“Where do you come up with
these ideas? Is this one of those Indian things? Did your people sit around the
campfire back in the olden days and dream up junk like this to tell their kids?
I bet they did. I bet they sat around smoking the peace pipe, and telling tall
tales. And then they sent their kids out to spread the same bull. I don’t
believe a word of it.”

Billy started laughing.

“Was any of that true?”

“All of it was true. Dogs
protect us, and sometimes in their effort to do that, they look as if they’re
doing us harm. There’s no doubt in my mind that one of the dogs tried to rescue
Mary Keen and in the process, chewed off her hand.”

“When you put it like that,
Athena and Thor are real heroes.”

“You could say that.”

“It’s just that you made it
sound so terrible.”

“I was trying to cushion
the blow.”

“Men... sometimes I just
don’t understand you.”

“You don’t understand us
because you don’t listen.”

“I listen to everything you
say to me. For example: I heard everything you said to me last night. You
thought I was asleep, but I wasn’t. Do you really think that I’m beautiful, and
sexy, and charming?” I leaned over and kissed the side of his face.

“I guess you do pay
attention.”

“Yeah, at first I thought
that you were talking in your sleep, but when you got out of bed to go to the
kitchen, I knew you weren’t. That’s when I figured out that you were talking to
me. I want you to know that your words touched my heart. You made me feel
special. I haven’t felt that way in a long time. Thanks, Billy.”

A satisfied grin appeared
on his face. “I’m glad that I make you feel special, `ge ya.”

W
e traveled eight miles on
Celt Road
before we
reached what used to be the home of Roy and Mary Keen. Now it was just
Roy
’s home.
The thought of him having to live alone in the same house he had once shared
with his wife, made me sad. Suppose he didn’t kill her? How could he deal with
the tragedy of his wife being murdered, and then have to go back home and
relive every moment of their life together? I almost felt sorry for him, until
I thought about my predicament. Things were not well. I felt like
Alice
in
Wonderland falling down the hole, and then trying to claw my way out. I had to
concentrate on saving myself. I couldn’t rule out the obvious—I didn’t kill
that woman—but someone had.

The mailbox had a name and
number on it, but you couldn’t see the house from the road. We turned and
followed a long gravel driveway lined with evergreen trees, until we came to a
two-story farm house. The house was in desperate need of a paint job, and from
the way the roof looked, I would guess that the Keens had serious water leakage
problems. A window shutter hung askew. A battered, sun-faded green pickup truck
was parked off to the right. It had seen better days.

“What a dump,” I whispered
to Billy. “I know he has fallen on hard times, what with losing his job and
all, but this is an eyesore. Look at the dead weeds around his house and
there’s not a flower bed in sight. What about that pile of trash out front? It
looks like he just walked out the front door and dropped it. What a slob.”

Billy pulled up beside the
pickup truck and parked. We both sat there in silence for a second, taking in
our surroundings. Everything screamed of neglect. The small front yard was
nothing but a muddy quagmire, and what wasn’t covered with mud, was laden with
piles of mountain rocks and yard debris. Trees with broken or hanging limbs
smothered the house. A ragged dog house with a chain missing its dog, sat under
a tree.

“According to his file,”
Billy looked over at me, “Roy and Mary moved here a few weeks ago. This place
belongs to his dad.”

“But why on earth would
they move into a dump like this? It needs a lot of work. I’m sure they could
have found something better.”

“They didn’t have much of a
choice.
Roy
lost his job. The supply of money from the evidence room that he stole
on a regular basis, along with the drugs he stole and sold on the street, was
cut off. He had nothing, and she didn’t work. Her tastes ran high. They lived
in a high-dollar, rented estate on the south side of Stanardsville, and when the
rent came due, they couldn’t pay. They were forced to move.”

“Talking about your life
turning to crap...” I added.

We looked at each other. In
the middle of all this, there was a moment of warmth that passed between the
two of us. I finally caught my breath.

“Well, let’s go see our
man.”     

The front door stood ajar.
I hesitated. I didn’t like this. It was too cold outside to be leaving the door
open. This whole scene was like something out of a bad movie. Everything was
lifeless.

Billy stood behind me, looking
as if he was canvassing the place. He turned, walked to the edge of the house,
and then came back. “That must be his truck over there, but where’s Mary’s
car?”

“Perhaps she didn’t have
one,” I replied. “Remember, they had fallen on hard times. They probably had to
sell any decent car they might have had. I don’t know. I didn’t get a chance to
finish reading the file.”

From inside the house, I
heard someone groan.

Billy grabbed me by the arm
and said, “Don’t touch anything. We don’t want to leave any fingerprints. Let’s
take this real slow.” He gestured for me to move aside.  He pressed his elbow
to the door and gave it a shove. After wiping his feet on the sodden square of
carpet before entering, he turned to me and said, “Get as much of that mud off
your shoes as you can. We don’t want to leave muddy shoe prints as evidence
either.”

Once inside, I saw the
crumpled body of a man lying on the living room floor. It was Roy Keen. I
recognized him from the printout we had in his file. A path of blood from his
chest ran down his left shoulder, gathered in a circle by his elbow, and pooled
by his fingertips. The color was almost black. He was trying to say something.
The bloody hand he had pressed to his chest reached out to me.

Billy and I instantly
reacted. I ran over to
Roy
and leaned down. Billy grabbed his cell phone.

“Chicky...”
Roy
tried to
get out. “Chicky...”

He made a gasping sound as
a trickle of blood ran out of his mouth. His arm fell to his side. He was gone
.
I pressed my finger to his throat. There was no pulse. His life was over.
“Forget it, Billy. He’s dead.”

Billy slapped the phone
shut. His eyes wandered around the room. “Somebody tore this place apart.” He
bent down and lifted
Roy
’s shirt. “He’s been shot right above the heart. It
looks like a .38 caliber. The bullet must have nicked an artery from the color
of that blood. It was quick. I’d say no more than ten or fifteen minutes ago.”
Billy stood and then paced around the room looking for clues. “There was
definitely a struggle.”

I surveyed the room. The
place looked like a cyclone had hit it. Framed photos of
Roy
and his
wife lay scattered and broken. A photo album of their wedding lay torn and
shredded in front of the coffee table. Muddy shoe prints covered the battered
sofa as well as the big comfortable chair next to it. The lamp on the end table
had been knocked over and the shade crushed.

I looked to my left and saw
the kitchen. Slowly, I walked into the room. Dirty dishes filled the sink. The
countertop looked like an ad for
Trash
Unlimited
. Everywhere you
looked there were empty takeout cartons and pizza boxes. Beer and soda cans had
been tossed in a heap in the middle of the floor. I spotted a cockroach the
size of a rat running up the wall. The odor was obnoxious. I grabbed my mouth as
if to heave, and fled the room.

“It’s nasty in there, and
it smells awful.”

Billy was standing by the
sofa holding a photo. “We’re taking this one with us. I have a feeling it might
help us along the way.”

“What is it?” I asked. I
walked over and looked at the picture. “Looks like a bunch of people at a
party.”

“It might give us an idea
of who Roy and Mary socialized with. The date on the back says December 2003.
I’m willing to bet it’s a picture from last year’s FOP Christmas party. 
See...” He pointed to a girl and two guys in uniform standing in the
background. The rest were dressed in party attire.

I took the picture and
looked closely. Roy and Mary were right in the middle of the crowd holding up
their glasses as was everyone else around them. Standing to the right of Mary
was a handsome man dressed in a very expensive suit. His arm appeared to be
around her waist, and his eyes were glued to her. “Look at this guy. There’s
something funny about the way he’s looking at her. I’d say he’s got lust in his
heart.”

“What?”  Billy took the
photo from me. “How can you tell?”

“I’m a woman; I know these
things. And that’s not all I know. Look around. From what I’ve learned in my
class about crime scenes, this looks like the act of a jealous rampage. Someone
came in here and went berserk. The killer stomped all over the furniture with
his or her muddy shoes, and then smashed every picture in sight. Nothing else
of value was destroyed. Look at that CD collection. There’s not one of them out
of place. What about all those little knickknacks on the table over there?
They’re all still in place.”

“I see what you mean,”
Billy said, then grabbed me by the arm. “Let’s go upstairs and have a quick
look around. Then we’re getting out of here.”

“Shouldn’t we call the
police?”

“And tell them what? The
guy’s dead.”

I had to agree with Billy.
Roy Keen had taken his last breath.

There was nothing out of
kilter upstairs. One of the two rooms was filled with boxes and junk stacked
floor to ceiling high. The other room had a double bed, dresser and nightstand.
Clothes were flung everywhere. The bedspread lay on the floor. The sheets were
filthy.

“Wow! These were some funky
people. It smells like sweat in here.”

Billy cocked his head and
said, “Do you hear that?”

“I don’t hear anything.”

He grabbed me by the sleeve
of my coat and said, “Let’s get out of here!”

We both turned and ran
downstairs toward the front door.

“What about him?” I asked.
“We can’t just leave him.”

“Oh, yes we can,” Billy
said as he pushed me outside. “He’s dead. Let the police handle this one.”

We were in Billy’s truck,
flying down the driveway when I heard the sirens in the background. “It’s the
cops,” I screamed. “Do you think they’re coming here?”

“I’d bet money on it.”

Billy got to the end of the
driveway and made a right-hand turn, in the opposite direction of the sirens.
We were barely around the bend when I caught a glimpse of the flashing blue
lights.

“Whew, that was close,” I
said and wiped my forehead in jest. “Do you think they saw us?”

“I sure hope not. It could
compound our little problem.”

A mile past the scene of
Roy
’s murder,
we found a road that led us out of our mess. I finally caught my breath when we
came up on Rt. 29.

“Thank God!” I sank back
against the seat. “I need a cigarette.” I dug in my purse on the floor, and
pulled out a pack of
Salem
’s. “Want one?”

He glanced at the pack of
smokes. “When did you start smoking menthol cigarettes?”

“I’ve always smoked
menthol, unless I’m bumming.”

“I’ll pass.” He slid his
hand up under his jacket and removed a pack of Marlboros. “If you’re going to
smoke, this is the way to go.” He lit up.

“You’re a real man Billy
Blackhawk!” I laughed.

The clock on Billy’s dash
registered
11:06
. It was almost
noon
, and time for Mom’s Thanksgiving meal. We had to get
our butts in gear. I looked at Billy just about the time he glanced at the
clock.

We puffed on our smokes all
the way to Mom’s house. I don’t know who was more shaken from our encounter at
Roy
’s, but
neither one of us could seem to get enough nicotine into our bodies.

Cole’s Jeep was parked
beside the garage.

“Tell me it isn’t so!” I
cried.

“What did you expect? He’s
your boyfriend.”

“Not anymore,” I said. I
turned to Billy and put my hand on his. I lifted my face, leaned over and
touched my lips to his. “Things are different.”

Why did I do that? Maybe I
was hurting inside and Billy was just there. I hurt and I needed comfort, and
Billy was so good at comforting me. 

Billy could see right
through me. He knew I was teetering on the edge, yet he didn’t say a word. He
didn’t accuse me of using him as a shield to block out my feelings for Cole, or
of using him as a cover-up for the fact that I was now without a boyfriend.
Instead, he stroked the side of my face and whispered, “I know you’re hurting,
and I want you to know, I’m here for you.” He reached over and engulfed me in
his strong arms. His lips were on mine.

Life definitely had taken a
turn.

Athena and Thor burst out
the front door of the house, yelping and howling as always. It didn’t matter if
there was a leaf falling off a tree or if a burglar was trying to break into
the house, they barked at everything. Within seconds they were upon us. Thor
scratched at my door while Athena tried to jump through Billy’s half-opened
window.

“I think they’re glad to
see us. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed these mutts until now. They do
grow on you.”

“Yeah, I know what you
mean.” He pulled the mirror down from the visor and fiddled with his hair.
“Tonight, they’ll be home where they belong. I was thinking about going to the
pound sometime later and finding a dog for your mama. What do you think?”

“I think you’re out of your
mind. Never give someone a pet without talking to them first unless you want to
end up being the new owner. I don’t want to add to my brood. Forget it!”

“Yes, dear, whatever you
say.”

We scrambled out of the
truck, trying to avoid the dogs and their muddy paws, and hustled up to the
porch.

The front door opened and
Cole appeared. Claire was standing beside him. Both of them had a smile on
their face. They looked very happy.

“Oh, Jesse.” Claire reached
out to me. “I’m glad you’re here. Mom was afraid you weren’t going to make it.
She was worried.”