1 A Small Case of Murder (11 page)

Books were everywhere when Joshua returned to his office with a boxed dinner from the diner next door. They had searched every book and found no autopsy report.

Grateful for the break, his children pounced on the burgers, fries and milkshakes like a pack of wolves dividing a kill and picnic style, circling the box of food on the floor.

Defeated in his quest, Tad wouldn’t touch any of it. At the back of the office, he continued searching through a hip high stack of Smithsonian magazines.

After snatching a burger, Joshua opened the textbook in which Tad had found the death certificate. Joining his children on the floor, he studied the page that had been marked. “I’ve been thinking about this theory of yours that Doc Wilson hid the actual autopsy report in a book. Why’d he do that?”

“It makes sense when you think about it,” Tad said. “If Wilson was blackmailing Wally, knowing that the man was cap-able of murder, he would have hidden the report. Look at all these books! It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.

“That’s for sure,” Donny said.

“All the better to keep Wally from breaking in here and getting it,” Tad said.

“Or anyone else.” Sarah laid down flat on her back on the floor while she ate her burger.

“Do you really think Doc was capable of blackmail?” Joshua asked.

Tad said, “Why else would he not make the official cause of death murder and have Wally arrested? Because he thought Wally was such a great guy?”

“From the looks of this building,” Murphy said, “Dr. Wilson wasn’t a rich guy.”

“I agree he would blackmail Wally Rawlings,” Joshua said, “but not for money.”

“For what then?” Sarah wanted to know.

“For something more important.”

“What’s more important than money?” Donny asked.

“The greater good,” Joshua answered. “Doc Wilson was a man of principle. Reverend Rawlings groomed Wally since he was a baby to be president. Yet, here he is, almost forty, and Wally is a county prosecutor in West Virginia. His office is in a school basement.”

Tad said, “He could have run for county prosecutor right after he graduated from law school, but he didn’t until three years ago.”

Joshua pointed out, “Doc died four years ago. Wally didn’t get into politics until after Doc Wilson was dead.”

Tracy asked, “Are you saying that you think the doctor used the real autopsy report to keep Wally out of politics?”

“Doc Wilson delivered me.” Joshua gestured towards his cousin. “He delivered Tad. He also delivered our parents.”

“He was the only doctor in the area.” His hands on his hips, Tad surveyed the top shelf of the bookcase to see if he had missed anything.

“If Doc had evidence that Wally was a killer, he’d know how dangerous he would be in a position of power. In that case, Doc would make damn sure that something was done about it,” Joshua told the group gathered on the floor.

Sarah didn’t understand. “Why not take it to the police and have him arrested?”

Murphy answered, “Because the sheriff worked for the killer’s father.”

Joshua explained, “An autopsy report only proves someone was murdered. It doesn’t say who did it.”

“Cindy told me Wally was doing it,” Tad told them.

Joshua turned around to him. “That’s hearsay. She lived in that house with Wally, as well as his father, and his sister and her husband, plus a maid who cooked their meals. Any of them could have been poisoning her.”

“But,” Donny objected, “if the report doesn’t prove anything, then why are we looking for it?”

“Oh, but it can be very harmful, son,” Joshua corrected him. “A report of Wally’s dear sweet wife being poisoned in their home would be scandalous. It’d kill his political career forever.”

“Plus, it would shake up the reverend’s church,” Tad said.

Finished with her burger, Tracy wiped her hands on a pa-per napkin. “If you’re saying that Doc Wilson put the report away to keep Rawlings out of office, then why didn’t he make sure it got into the right hands after he died?”

“I can answer that,” Tad responded. “Doc was one of those people who never thought he’d die. He never retired. He never wrote a will.” He tossed down the magazine he held and sat next to Joshua with a sigh of disgust. “That’s it. I don’t know where else to look.”

Joshua was studying the binding of the textbook on deadly poisons. He spoke in a steady tone while he eyed the volume. “Nah, Tad, I disagree. Doc knew that even though he could prove Cindy was murdered, he couldn’t prove who did it. But he did have enough to keep Wally in line. He also knew that if he made that report easy to find, then he might as well write his will and kiss his butt good-bye.”

While he continued, Joshua turned the book around so that the spine faced him and, starting at the bottom, he rubbed the spine with fingertip over fingertip from the bottom and worked his way up along the binding.

“That’s why he made it so hard to find the autopsy report. So an idiot like Wally would never find it. Doc didn’t want the autopsy report to be impossible to find for a smart man—”

Everyone gasped when a small silver key popped out from the top of the spine of the book.

“—like yours truly.”

Chapter Ten

“Somebody get that!” Joshua covered the phone’s mouthpiece to call out to anybody in the house who happened to be within the sound of his voice.

After apologizing for the interruption to the moving company clerk on the other end of the line, Joshua resumed chastising her. “Listen, it’s been weeks. All of our family’s legal documents and memories are in those boxes.”

The doorbell rang again.

“I don’t want any more apologies. I want my wife’s wed-ding picture back.”

The doorbell rang once more while the clerk responded in an indifferent tone.

Cursing under his breath, he pressed the hold button and hurried to the front foyer. “Five kids and not one to answer the door.” He threw open the door to find a young man he recognized from the neighborhood standing before him.

Startled by Joshua’s angry expression, the teenager stood frozen with fear in the doorway.

Unaware of his threatening appearance, Joshua asked, “What?”

“Uh-Hello, Mr. Thornton, sir,” he stammered. “I’m Ken Howard. I live across the street. Is Tracy home?”

As if Ken was an enlisted man needing an inspection from a superior officer, Joshua looked him up and down. His clothes were clean, his appearance was neat, and he saw no sign of body piercings or offensive tattoos. 

“I’ll see.” Leaving him on the doorstep, Joshua closed the door to yell for Tracy.

Carrying a basket filled with washed clothes in need of folding, Tracy ran up the stairs from the laundry room in the basement. “Oh, Dad, good. You’re off the phone.”

She lugged the clothes basket into the living room where an old Humphrey Bogart movie was playing on the television set kept in an entertainment center. A pile of laundry waiting to be folded was piled up on the sofa.

Laughing and talking amongst themselves, Murphy and J.J. came through the front door with Ken between them. Upon seeing the senior Thornton, Ken lowered his eyes to the floor.

“Hey, Tracy, look who we found,” J.J. said.

“And guess what he’s got.” In his next breath, Murphy told her, “Tickets to see the Pittsburgh Pirates. They’re playing today.”

J.J. told Ken, “Tracy used to play second base on the soft-ball team back home.”

“Really?” Ken grinned at her. “I play second base on our team. Are you ready to go?”

Joshua interjected, “Go where?”

Tracy told him, “To see the Pirates. I told you yesterday.”

Murphy confirmed her claim. “I was there.”

“I’ll be ready in a minute, Ken. I need to go comb my hair.” She turned to Joshua. “There’s a load in the dryer and the washer. Take the clothes out of the dryer as soon as they’re done. They’re your shirts, and if they aren’t folded they’ll wrinkle. Put the clothes that are in the washer in the dryer, and dry them for one hour. Don’t forget to clean the lint trap first.”

Turning to Murphy and J.J., who were watching Key Largo, Joshua pointed to the pile of clothes. “Take care of that.”

Back in the study, he discovered that the moving company had hung up. Disgusted, he sat down behind his desk to reread the police and Tad’s autopsy reports for Vicki Rawlings and Beth Davis.

A girl doesn’t let just anyone give her a shot in the crotch unless she trusts him. Judging from what he had observed, Joshua felt it was safe to assume Vicki would have intercourse with anyone, in which case it could have been a stranger with no motive, except the thrill of killing.

“Dad, come here. Quick,” Murphy called.

Donny intercepted him in the hallway to lead the way back to the living room where they had been folding the laundry.

On the television, Key Largo had been replaced with a news program.

“Hello, this is Morgan Lucas,” the perky young news reporter on the screen was saying, “with a Channel 6 News Special Report. With me now is Amber, who recently consented to be interviewed by reporter Tess Bauer about the drug trafficking in the Ohio Valley. Today, Amber is in our studios live to tell our audience what she had witnessed the night Victoria Rawlings and Elizabeth Davis were murdered.”

Amber looked the same as when Joshua had seen her interviewed by Tess Bauer, except this time the studio backdrop was behind her. She had the same blood red crew cut, gothic make-up, and assorted black necklaces and bracelets and rings. Her dark clothes revealed her pale coloring.

A beauty with chestnut hair and blue eyes, Morgan Lucas contrasted the subject of her interview. Her royal blue blouse matched her eyes. Diamond and gold jewelry completed her ensemble.

“Ms. Amber, you came into our studio to tell us about what had happened in the home of Victoria Rawlings the day of the murders.”

“I was there,” Amber said with a deep sigh. “Vicki and I are—were—best friends. I was hanging with her and I saw everything.”

“Did you see her killer?” Morgan asked.

“Yeah, I saw the whole thing, beginning to end.”

“Tell us what happened, Amber.”

“We were partying. She had just gotten a shipment of cocaine and she was splitting it up when there was this knock on the door. I looked out the window and I saw him. Well, I didn’t want no hassle. So Vicki told me to hide. I knew it was going to be a messy scene, man.”

The interviewer inquired, “Where did you hide?”

“In the closet in the bedroom in the back.” Amber paused to take in a shuddering breath. “I heard this fight, and then he took her back there. He had her by the wrist, and they were arguing.”

“What about?”

“About her keeping her mouth shut. She said she would, but then he said she had already said too much. I heard Vicki screaming at her old man! They were fighting. Then suddenly, it was quiet, and that was worse than the screaming because I couldn’t tell what was happening. Then—Oh,God!” Amber covered her face with her hands.

There was silence in the studio.

Morgan regained her composure to ask about Beth’s murder.

“Well,” Amber replied, “I was afraid to try to leave, be-cause I thought he would kill me. I mean, he’s crazy. So, I had to watch him carry her in. He laid her down next to the bed, and he put this gun to her head and blew her brains out.”

“Amber,” Morgan asked, “who did you see kill Victoria Rawlings and Elizabeth Davis?”

“Vicki’s grandfather. Reverend Orville Rawlings.”

Joshua stood up. “I’m going to the studio.”

Joshua never did like Pittsburgh’s freeways and one-way side streets. He always seemed to be heading away from where he wanted to go. By the time he found the television studio, Morgan Lucas was in the newsroom surrounded by fellow journalists giving and getting high fives over their scooping the competition by breaking the Rawlings and Davis murder case with an eyewitness.

Upon seeing the special prosecutor, Morgan seized the opportunity for another exclusive interview. With her most charming smile, she cocked her head, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and offered Joshua a slender hand with long fingers. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Commander Thornton. I followed the Admiral Thompson case when I was in college. I’m a fan.”

Joshua shook her hand. “Lawyers don’t have fans. Where’s Amber?”

“She left a half an hour ago. Listen, I told her to go see you before I interviewed her on the air, but she was afraid.”

“Afraid?” he replied. “If she was so scared, why’d she announce to the whole Ohio Valley that she witnessed two murders?”

“She’s afraid of Reverend Rawlings,” Morgan explained. “He killed his own granddaughter. She thought if she publicly told her story that he would know that if anything happened to her, then he wouldn’t get away with it.”

“Morgan Lucas, I want to talk to you!” Tess’s voice carried across the newsroom.

Dressed in a pale blue pantsuit, Tess charged toward the anchorwoman. Her hair was brushed into loose waves down to her shoulders. Her shoulder bag, filled to bulging, bounced clumsily from where it hung from her shoulder.

From his vantage point between the two women, Joshua observed that Morgan was at least five years younger than Tess. He guessed that it was Morgan’s looks and charm that won her the starring role on the program.

“Who do you think you are interviewing my source on the air?” Tess pointed an accusing finger at the news anchor.

Joshua ducked in time to keep from being stabbed in the crossfire by the lethally-long, magenta-colored fingernail.

Morgan studied the finger aimed between her eyes. Her eyes narrowed to slits. After a beat, she launched her defense. “You weren’t here and I was.”

With her hands on her hips, Tess declared, “I was following a lead. I was doing real news journalism, not playing a talking head.”

“It’s not my fault. Amber came in looking for you, and you didn’t answer your cell phone.”

“The battery had run low.”

“That’s your tough luck. It was either we run with the story or lose it. Richards made the decision to go with it. If you don’t like it, talk to the producer.” In a gesture of farewell, Morgan nodded her head politely at Joshua before walking away with an air of justification.

At her desk, Tess hurled her shoulder bag to the floor. When the bag dropped open, Joshua caught a glimpse of a pair of black panties and cosmetics case.

Maybe it wasn’t a lead she was following, he thought.

“Sorry about that,” she shot him over her shoulder while she repacked the bag. “In this business, you have to protect your stories or the vultures will steal them right out from under you.”

He asked, “Did you know that Amber’d witnessed the murders?”

“If I had I would have told you.” She stood up. “I’d give my right arm to have that monster put away.”

With a hand on his elbow, she guided him towards a kitchenette out of earshot of her colleagues and competition. While pouring a cup of coffee, she told him in a low voice, “Rawlings killed my sister. Not him, but his drugs did.”

“What’s Amber’s last name?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Joshua cocked his head at her. “You just said that you’d give your right arm to get Rawlings. Now, you have a source with the power to get him, but you won’t tell me where I can find her?”

“Amber is up to her eyeballs in the drug underground. She’s obviously running for her life.”

“We can protect her.”

“Yeah. Right.” She sipped the coffee.

“Where can I find her?”

“I don’t know.” When she saw his glare, she said, “Really. I don’t know. She finds me.” She dumped the coffee into the sink.

“Well, the next time she finds you, if you’re serious about getting Rawlings, you’ll convince her to call me. That little show she gave for the valley isn’t going to be enough to convict Rawlings. There’s a thing that’s guaranteed in the constitution. That’s the right to face your accuser. If she thinks she can give her statement to the media and not show her face in court, then Rawlings will never spend one day in jail no matter how good a show she gives for the cameras. Got that, Ms. Bauer?”

“Got it, Mr. Thornton.”