Murder at the High School Reunion (20 page)

“Sound good to me. What book do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. Let’s look and see which ones we have
left.”

Lou and I looked over our possibilities. We opened
dust jackets and read.

“What do you think of this one?”

“I was leaning in that direction, Cy.”

I reached down and plucked
Loves Music, Loves To
Dance
by Mary Higgins Clark from my stash. I laid it on the table next to
my recliner, put my shoes on, grabbed my keys, and headed out the door to take
Lou home. There was no way that Lou or I could finish the book that night, but
there was something that appealed to me about a murderer finding his victims by
running personal ads in a newspaper. And unlike our case, I knew exactly how
long that case would last.

I woke up the next morning and couldn’t believe it was
Tuesday already. Where had Monday gone? And then I remembered, Monday had been
a dead end. I wanted to get a head start on Tuesday, so I Wiied the first
thing, then gave Lou a call. I wanted to know the clue of the day.

“Don’t tell me you’re ready already, Cy.”

“No, Lou, I just wanted to see if God had given you
our message for today.”

“It won’t do you any good.”

“It won’t do me any good. Is God trying to tell us to
forget about this case?”

“No, I mean it won’t do me any good to tell you.
Today’s clue is “The same as before.”

“The same what?”

“I assume it means that He’s already given us
everything we need to know to solve this case. Maybe we need to focus on the
clue’s we’ve already been given.”

“We did yesterday and what did that give us.”

“Cy, sometimes we can look at something many times
before we figure out what it means. Just look over the clues again, and I’ll do
the same until you get here.”

“You mean you’re already ready for me? I haven’t eaten
breakfast, read my devotionals or showered yet.”

“I’ve done all of those things except eat. I’m about
to fix my breakfast, but I can fix food eat it and think of clues at the same
time.”

I decided to spend my time with God first. I needed to
concentrate on Him during that time, but after that, I too could cook, eat, and
shower while I mulled over our clues.

+++

I picked up Lou and we headed back to the cemetery.
Maybe their computers don’t have records as far back as when the Van Meter girl
died. Maybe those early records were buried in a grave somewhere. I was willing
to dig to find what we needed, but not that kind of digging.

On the way to the cemetery I continued to mull over
the clues.

“Lou, have you ever heard anyone say that the
difference between one person and another is what they do with their dash,
which means the time they are alive. Well, maybe our clue “after the dash”
means that we should concentrate on Miriam Van Meter’s death, or what happened
after her death.”

“It kind of looks like we’re doing that, Cy.”

“Yeah, but there’s something else. You know how she
appeared out of nowhere. Maybe she’s the one who has the alias. Maybe Van Meter
isn’t really her name. I think when we check back today we need to check on any
teenage girl who was buried here during the month of May twenty years ago.”

“I thought we were already going to do that, too.”

“Oh.”

We arrived at the cemetery and encountered the same
woman in the office.

“Checking on someone else, Lieutenant?”

“No, the same person. But there’s a possibility she
might have been buried under a different name. Can you check and see if any
teenage girl was buried here during the month of May twenty years ago.”

“I can, but it might take thirty minutes or so. Do you
want to wait or come back later?”

“We might as well wait. No need in wasting gas.”

Lou and I sat down. I tried to be as patient as I
could. Patience has never been my strong suit. Still, I refrained from jumping
up every five minutes to see if she found anything. However, I did frown a time
or two when the phone rang and she had to stop searching for what I wanted and
answer the blasted phone. Finally, around thirty minutes later, she got up from
the computer and peered over the counter at us.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but as I said before, her
family could have taken her back where they came from. A lot of families do. Is
there any way you might be mistaken as to the date of the death? Could it have
been another month or another year?”

“I don’t think so, but I’ll double check. I might be
able to come up with an exact date.”

+++

“Evidently she was buried somewhere else, Cy.”

“Either that or somebody has their dates wrong. After
we check back with the two funeral homes we can run by the newspaper office and
check old newspapers, see if they have a record of the wreck.”

“Library, Cy. Remember, when looked for that before,
we found copies of old newspapers at the library, not the newspaper office.”

“Oh, yeah, now I remember.”

+++

Lightning entered the mortuary parking lot and headed
for the same spot she rested in the day before. Lou and I got out to see if
someone at the funeral home had found the information we needed.

“Oh, hi, Lieutenant, I guess you didn’t get my
message. I just called and left one for you. We don’t have a record of a Miriam
Van Meter.”

“I think they might have brought her in under another
name. At any rate, whatever the name, she’s not buried here in Hilldale. Could
you check back through your records for May twenty years ago and give me the
information for anyone who might have been sent to you, and you shipped her
body out of town. It could be somewhere else in the state, or to another state.
And to make it easier for you, we’re looking for a teenage female.”

“I’m glad you came in before we put the records back.
Still, we can’t get to it right now, but we’ll get to it as soon as we can.
However, it might not be until tomorrow.”

We left McPeak’s and dashed over to Herrington &
Sons. We received a similar answer there, although they expected to have
something for me by the end of the day.

+++

Going through a month’s worth of newspapers might take
us a while, although I expected to find what I wanted on the front page. While
it was just a little after 11:00, Lou and I took a break for lunch and let our
lunch settle while we tried to come up with another plan of attack before we
left for the library, in case this one failed.

+++

We opened the front door of the library and the first
person we saw was Rose Ellen Calvert. Although I knew she worked there, it
didn’t register that the place we had to go was the place where she worked,
because she wasn’t the reason we were there. However, I could tell by the look
she gave me and the fact that she hurried over to us, that she didn’t know our
reason for being there.

“Please, Lieutenant, not here.”

“Where then, Miss Calvert?”

“Well, if you must, please wait until I get off and
come by my place.”

“You keep old newspapers at your house?”

“Pardon?”

“We’re here to look through old newspapers, Miss
Calvert. Is there some reason we need to talk to you some more?”

“Of course not, Lieutenant. It’s just that you keep
bothering me. I thought you came up with some other reason to badger me.”

“I’m not badgering you, Miss Calvert. I’m merely
following the information I receive and talking to whoever I need to talk to.”

“Old newspapers, you say. What year did you need?”

“I need to see the papers for the month of May twenty
years ago.”

“But…that was my senior year, just before we
graduated. And that was the month Jimmy Conkwright killed that girl.”

“Exactly. Now where did you say I could find those
files?”

She had no desire to spend any more time with us, but
she was trapped.

Follow me,” she said, and took off to the other side
of the library. She walked through an archway and led us to a series of filing
cabinets.

“It should be in here somewhere. Oh, yes, here it is.”

I was expecting her to tell me that someone else was
looking at the month we wanted, but she located what we needed, led us to an
unoccupied machine, threaded the machine, and showed us how to find what we
needed.

While everything else was taking a lot longer than
we’d hoped, ten minutes later we had located the article telling about the
young woman’s death. I read the article and then continued perusing the month’s
newspapers. I found one subsequent article. The first one merely reported that
the wreck had happened, and that there was one fatality. The second article
said the victim’s body had been released to a local mortuary, but any details
of the victim or the driver would not be released until notification to the
next of kin.

It had to be the same girl. The article mentioned the
victim was a teenage girl, and that the car was a red Corvette. I wrote down
the date in case I needed it.

+++

“Why was everything so secretive, Cy?”

“I suspect because the driver was Jimmy Conkwright. My
guess is that the newspaper didn’t breathe without checking with Big Russ to
see if it was okay. I just wish the article had told us a little more. We
already knew, or thought we knew, when it happened. This just confirmed that
she did die in a wreck, and that wreck happened in May twenty years ago.”

“So, what do we do next?”

“The only chance we have of finding out any more about
her will be if one of the funeral homes turns up anything. The article did say
that her body was released to one of the local funeral homes. Is it possible
there was another funeral home at one time?”

“Not twenty years ago. Remember, we both lived here
then. Although, there is one possibility, Cy.”

“What’s that, Lou?”

“Funeral homes are still pretty much segregated here.”

“As many people as we’ve talked to, I don’t think all
of them would have told us about her and none of them mentioned that the girl
was black. Besides, there aren’t a lot of black families in Hilldale. At least
there weren’t back then. Let’s wait and see what we find out this afternoon and
in the morning, and if we don’t turn up anything we’ll check with Bledsoe.”

+++

I dropped Lou off and headed for home. Around 4:30 I received a call from downtown. Herrington & Sons had called. There were no
teenage girls brought in at any time during the month of May. My hope rested
with McPeak, which meant I would learn nothing until the next morning. It was
looking more and more like I would solve Mary Higgins Clark’s classified ad
murder before I’d solve my own. Maybe I should quit working and start writing
murder mysteries. It wouldn’t be nearly as stressful on me.

+++

I needed to get my mind off the case. I called
Jennifer to see if time was still flying by because she spent all of it
thinking about me. We talked for thirty minutes, and then I hung up and
continued to think about her. My thoughts were only of her until I heard my
stomach begin to grumble. It was time for me to go fix my meager portion. At
least all wasn’t lost. But I had found out that another two pounds had been
lost.

I woke up, stirred, and lay there until I could
remember what day of the week it was and what I had scheduled for that day. It
was Wednesday. It had been over a week since we found the bodies. Halfway
through the second week. After that long I’m always ready to put an end to
things. I took stock of what I’d learned so far. It seemed like I didn’t know
much more than when I started. I didn’t want to have to go through a third week
of an unsolved case. I sat up in bed and tried to think. What were our plans
for the day? Actually, they weren’t much. I’d told Lou that we’d be lazy. I’d
wait around the house for a while to see if anyone called from McPeak’s. If
they didn’t come through for me I thought about putting everyone in stocks
until someone confessed. I wondered where I could find stocks, and how much
they would cost. Colonial Williamsburg immediately came to mind. Maybe I could
find them in Boston, too. But I couldn’t think of anywhere else. See, Wal-Mart
and Lowe’s don’t have everything.

It wasn’t doing me any good to lie there, so I
extracted myself from the bed. I had to admit doing so had become easier after
I started exercising everyday. I could begin to tell a little bit of difference
after two weeks. So far, I hadn’t seen anyone from the department, so I had no
idea if anyone could tell I’d lost weight.

I picked up my Bible and my devotional books and
headed for my recliner. I didn’t spend as much time with God as Lou did each
morning, because he took part in an in-depth Bible study, but I was faithful
enough that I took time for God every morning, no matter how busy we were. I
read, reflected, and prayed. I asked God for the wisdom, the strength, the
courage, and the desire to do what He wanted me to do each day. I couldn’t do
it without His help, but maybe with God’s direction we could solve these
murders.

While I wanted to solve the murders, I kept realizing
that at least the world didn’t lose two pillars in the community. They say that
everyone has some good in them. I had yet to find the good in either of the
departed. Plus, if anyone missed either of them, I had yet to find that person.
Still, murder isn’t right, even when it’s nothing more than shutting a door on
someone’s life, so I had to see this through.

I fixed breakfast, let it settle, Wiied, and showered.
I was amazed that I’d done all of that by 9:15. I’d just finished dressing when
the phone rang. I hoped it was the department telling me that someone had
confessed. Actually, I was hoping it was Jennifer, but the department ran a
close second. Okay, a distant second, but second.

I answered the phone to hear the voice of someone from
desire number two.

“Lt. Dekker, I’m calling to let you know that McPeak’s
Funeral Home called to say they didn’t find what you want, but they have
something else and want to know if you might be interested in that.”

I thanked my caller and reflected on what she had to
say. What did it mean? McPeak’s didn’t know what happened to Miriam Van Meter,
but if I’d be interested in another body that was shipped to Tanzania by UPS Air they would be glad to fill me in. Why would I be interested in someone
else? As far as I knew, Jimmy Conkwright had killed only one girl by driving
drunk.

I called Lou to let him know that McPeak’s called with
a message in code and that we would run by there to see what the coded message
meant.

“I got a coded message, too, Cy.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I have our message of the day, and I don’t
understand what it means. You might want it now, Cy. This one’s a message you
might want to Google.”

“Well, let me have it.”

“Cy, why can’t you say that when I’m standing beside
you, and you’ve just done something to irritate me?”

“Lou, you know I never do anything irritating, but you
have, so let me have it.”

“Mark Dinning.”

“That name sounds familiar. How do you spell it, Lou?”

“I T.”

“Lou, how about when I see you, you say let me have
it?”

“M A R K.”

“That’s enough, Lou.”

“Okay, goodbye, Cy.”

“Just spell the last name.”

I wrote down the name as he spelled it, and then
realized he was merely guessing, since God hadn’t written it down for him.

“I’ll give this Dinning guy a quick glance. Then, I’ll
come on over and we’ll beat it to McPeak’s.”

“I don’t figure this one will take you as long, Cy.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s a guy. You won’t click on all the swimsuit
pictures.”

“You know me. Now, I only have eyes for Jennifer
Sharp.”

+++

I Googled “Mark Dinning.” It didn’t take me long. As
soon as I read it, I knew why his name sounded familiar. He was a singer. His
one big hit was
Teen Angel.
It came out a little before my time, but I’d
heard the sad song many times, about the girl who was hit by a train because
she went back to get her honey’s ring. Another reference to a dead teenage
girl. I turned off the computer and dashed for Lightning. I wanted to know what
McPeak’s had for us.

+++

I filled in Lou on he way to McPeak’s.

“Well, it seems like God keeps hitting us over the
head with a dead teenage girl. Maybe Miriam Van Meter has more to do with this
case than it seems.”

I pulled up in front of McPeak’s. Lightning could park
herself. I wasn’t blocking anyone, and with today’s clue, I was anxious to hear
what McPeak’s had to say.

“Oh, hello. Lieutenant. Did you get my message?”

“I did, but I didn’t understand it.”

“Well, you asked for bodies shipped out of town. Would
you be interested in a teenage girl that wasn’t shipped out of town?”

“I’ve already checked with the cemetery. No teenage
girls were buried there in May twenty years ago. You are talking about May
twenty years, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and while we do have only one cemetery in
Hilldale, occasionally we have someone, particularly in a rural area, who has
some acreage, who wants to bury their loved one on their own property, and also
some rural churches have their own cemeteries. It’s just that neither of these
are common practices anymore.”

“And you say that you have a teenager who died in May
of that year who was buried somewhere here other than at the cemetery?”

“That’s right. Let me get the name. Let’s see. Here it
is. It’s Sarah Jane Spickard. A Mrs. Elizabeth Spickard signed for the body. We
even delivered it and buried her. She was buried on Mrs. Spickard’s property on
Flat Rock Road. It says here that Mrs. Spickard was Sarah Jane’s mother and
her father was Earl Spickard. The ceremony was private. The family wanted all
the particulars kept quiet. It says the victim died in a car crash.”

Lou and I turned to leave. As we walked out, I
realized that Earl Spickard was near the bottom of those I would have
suspected, but suddenly he had rushed to the top. That meant we needed to talk
to him. Would we get a confession? Was our ordeal almost at an end?