Secrets Can Be Deadly (8 page)

20
Thursday, February 7, 1980
(Mason)

M
ason was excited and anxious. He would call the recorder’s office at lunch, hoping Jean had been able to find information on his mother. Mason put on his uniform and went to work early. Busy work would make his morning go faster.

When he pulled in
to the lot behind the station, he noticed the Chief’s car. Today wasn’t going to be a good day if the chief was in early.

The back door was unlocked.
Mason turned on the overhead lights and stopped in the break room for coffee. When he turned, the Chief was standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing here so early?” The Chief stood tall
, hand on his gun.

“Couldn’t sleep
. I came in to get caught up on some paperwork.”

“We need to talk
.” Chief Franklin turned and walked down the hall.

Mason
wasn’t sure what to make of the Chief’s comment. He went to his desk, took off his coat, then walked to the Chief’s office. Mason knocked.

“Have a seat,” the Chief said. “I’ve decided I’m retiring
, end of the year. I informed the City Council at last night’s meeting. Next month I need to provide them a report of who I think should be the next police chief. They’d like the person to come from within the existing police force. You’ve done fabulous work, Mason, but you’ve only been here two years. Officer Arnold has ten years of experience and he’s covered my position when I’ve been out. I’m going to recommend him for the position. I just wanted you to know how much I respect your work.”

“Thank you
, sir.” Mason knew he wasn’t ready for the chief’s position yet, but appreciated the Chief’s comments.

“Don’t say anything about this conversation. I plan on telling everyone at our staff meeting this afternoon.”

“I won’t, sir. And congratulations on your retirement.”

Mason
went to his desk and grabbed the top folder. He was getting ready to open it when the phone rang. “Officer Pierce.”

“This is Bart O’Donnell. Someone’s been in my house.”

“What’s your address?”

“224 Madison. D
on’t see anyone inside, but want to file a report.”

“
Are you still inside the house?”

“Yeah. Where do you think I’m calling you from?”

“You should have left the premises once you realized someone had been in your home. The intruder could still be there.” Mason shook his head. “I’ll be there in five minutes. Would you please wait outside until I arrive?”

“
Okay. I’ll be in my car.”

Mason parked the squad car in front of the house. A husky man got out of the car in the driveway.

“You must be Officer
Pierce. I’m Bart.”

“I’m going to check inside. You stay in your car until I come get you.”

“I already looked inside.”

“I need to make sure the
place is secure before I allow a civilian inside.”

“Okay.” Bart
looked annoyed but turned and went to his car.

Mason
opened the door. Flashlight in his left hand, gun in his right, checking each room and closet. No one. He stepped out the front door and waved to Bart.

“
Tell me why you think someone was trespassing.”

“There’s a bell on the front doo
r. It startled me when I came in. I didn’t put it there.”

Mason
looked at the bell. It was hanging from the doorknob. If someone had been in the house, it would have been a perfect way to sound an alarm that someone was coming.

“Anything else?”
Mason asked.

“Same kind of bell on the back door
, too.”

“When was the last time you were home?”

“Oh, I don’t live here. My grandma does. She went to the nursing home in town three months ago. Called me last night. Wanted me to come over this morning and pick up a few things. Her name’s Elizabeth Camp, room 315. So, I guess it’s been three months since anyone’s been in the house,” Bart said. “With permission, that is.”

“I’ll get started on the report.
Just need to see your driver’s license. While you get your grandmother’s things, look to see if anything is missing or out of place. I’ll add it to the report.”

“Sure,” Bart
said.

Mason
started writing. He could hear Bart opening drawers and closing doors. Bart walked from the bedroom to bathroom and finally to the kitchen.

“Did you hear bells a second time?” Mason asked.

“Nope. Just once. Why?” Bart said.

“
If someone had been in the house and they tried to get out the back door, you would have heard bells a second time. Or, the trespasser could’ve hidden in a closet or under the bed until you left to wait in your car.”

“That’s creepy.”

“That’s why you should always leave your house if you suspect something is wrong.”

“
I’ll remember that next time. Nothing’s missing. It’s not like my grandma has much. She’s a pretty frugal person.” Bart paused. “There’s one thing that’s new—a flower arrangement in the bedroom. I don’t ever remember seeing it. I’m going to be late for work. You need anything else?”

“
Sign the report, then you can go. I’ll have an officer drive by the next few days, see if there’s any activity. I’m going to look around, if you don’t mind. I’ll lock up. You may want to stop by once a week. Call me if you notice any other suspicious activity.” Mason handed Bart his card.

“Yeah, great. Thanks.” Bart
walked away, then turned back. “If you don’t have to tell my grandma, that’d be great. Her heart is weak and this would worry her. I don’t want her to get upset.”

“I’ll call you if I have any questions. Have a good day
, sir.”

Mason
spent the next half hour looking through the house. Nothing out of the ordinary in the living room, kitchen, or bedroom. He noticed the sink in the bathroom was wet, fresh toothpaste splatters on the faucet. No toothpaste or toothbrush in sight. Someone had been in the house. The person was careful. Very careful. But not perfect.

Mason
took the bells off both doors before locking the house. He stood at the squad car and looked up and down the street to see if anything caught his eye. His hand was on the door handle when he heard a voice.

“Yoo-hoo.” An elderly woman
walked across the street. “Did she die?”

“No one has died,”
Mason said. “What’s your name? You live nearby?”

“
I’m Patricia Oakley. Live over there.” She pointed to her house. “Is Elizabeth okay?”

“It looks as though someone may have been in the house. Have you seen anyone unusual recently?”

“Oh my!” Patricia said. “No, no one out of the ordinary. Do I need to be worried?”

“It looks like an isolated incident. Here’s my card.
Call me if you see anything strange.”

“I will.” She looked at the card
. “Thank you, Officer Pierce.”

“Have a good day,”
Mason said. He watched the woman walk to her house. He sat in the car and jotted a few notes on the report.

It was ten o’clock when Mason returned to the station. Billy Arnold was in the chief’s office. He thought the chief must be telling Billy about the promotion.

George walked up to
Mason and whispered, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Mason
nodded. “Make it fast. I’ve got paperwork to file.”

“The Chief made an announcement this morning that it was mandatory for everyone to attend the staff meeting this afternoon. What do you think that means?”

Mason rolled his eyes. “I think he means he wants everyone at the meeting. There’s probably a big case going on and he doesn’t want to have to repeat all the details.”

“But why wait until this afternoon
?”

“George, relax. What did I tell you on your first day?
Just do your job. You’re acting like a schoolgirl. Stop it.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Get back to work.”

George sat at his desk and made a phone call.
Mason thought he was probably calling his girlfriend to ask her what she thought.

Mason
finished writing his report and put it in the Chief’s box for review. He walked past George’s desk. “I’m taking an early lunch today. See you at the meeting.”

Mason
drove home. He wanted privacy when he made the phone call to Jean.

“Clerk’s office. Rene speaking.”

“Jean Reynolds, please.” Mason’s voice felt shaky.

“Hang on.” She didn’t bother to ask who was on the line or
even put the call on hold. Mason could hear chatter in the background. He hoped Jean would have some useful information.

“Jean Reynolds. How may I help you?” She sounded like she
’d just ran a marathon.

“Jean
, it’s Mason Pierce. You were going to do research on my mother, Evelyn Pierce.”

“Oh
, yes. I did find some information. I’d like to make a copy and send it to you.”

“That would be great.”

“I found a birth record and marriage license for your mother, along with some information on other family members. One thing I didn’t find was a death certificate. I looked two weeks before and after the date you gave me.”

“I appreciate your help.
I’d be grateful if you could mail the information today.”

“No problem.
Sorry I couldn’t find everything. You should have the packet in a couple days.”

Mason
ran his fingers through his hair. Why couldn’t she find a death certificate? He knew the exact date. He would have to ask his father, though he wasn’t sure how he’d bring up the subject again.

The conference room was full at one. George sat in the front row. Even the night shift officers had been ordered in for the meeting. Chief Franklin entered the room, followed by Mayor Cramer.

“Thank you for attending this meeting,” Chief Franklin said. “Before the rumor mill starts, I wanted to tell you
in person what’s happening. I’ll be retiring at the end of the year. I’m recommending Billy Arnold for my position. This recommendation needs to be approved by Mayor Cramer and the City Council next month.”

Billy stood
and turned to his fellow officers. Everyone applauded.

“This has been a difficult decision
, both professionally and personally. I want each of you to show Officer Arnold the same respect and diligence you’ve shown me the last fifteen years. Upon approval next month, Officer Arnold will begin training. That means a spot will open in December. Keep your eyes and ears open for any potential recruits. Thank you for your support. Now, get back to work.”

Everyone stood and applauded again.

George nudged me. “I didn’t see that one coming, did you?”

“Congratulations
, Billy.” Mason extended his hand as Billy walked by his desk.

“Thanks. It’s a lot to take in. I’ve got big shoes to fill.”

“Billy.” Chief Franklin was calling him over to talk to the Mayor.

“His life just changed,” George said.

“Get back to work, George.” Mason sat and motioned George to do the same. He opened a case file, but all he could think about was the missing death certificate.

21
Sunday, December 25, 1977 (Sam)

I
watched the second hand—click, click, click. Five o’clock. I couldn’t sleep. Today was going to be my first real Christmas in ten years. The only difference between the holiday season and any other day at Grandfather’s was the same fake tabletop tree, year after year.

This year I felt alive. I
’d helped Connie decorate the house with ribbon, garland, and lights.

Harold
had chopped a pine tree from the farm. The three of us had spent hours getting the tree straight in the stand, decorating it with lights, ornaments, tinsel. I had the honor of putting the angel on top.

Connie had spent the last two days baking cookies
—spritz, peanut butter blossoms, harlequin dippers, snickerdoodles, chocolate chip oatmeal. The house filled with the smells of cinnamon, chocolate, vanilla.

I
wrote in my journal—a memory.
I woke up early, staring at Santa’s presents scattered underneath the tree. Mom saw me and let me pick one present. It was a silver watch, elastic band. Mom slipped it on my wrist, then tucked me in bed.

I
wondered what happened to my mother. Was she alive or dead? Either way, I’d never forgive her for leaving me with Grandfather. Until the last few months, I never knew what living was like. Now, I had freedom to come and go as I pleased, friends at the grocery store where I worked, and, most importantly, a family that loved me.

I dozed off
, journal in my arms. Two hours later, I woke to the smell of hazelnut coffee. After a shower, I changed into a red long sleeved t-shirt and jeans. Walking down the stairs, I could hear Andy Williams singing
White Christmas
. Harold and Connie were sitting on the couch.

“Ho, Ho, Ho. Merry Christmas
!” Harold said.

“You’re certainly in a
jolly mood this morning,” I said.

“I hope we didn’t wake you up too early.
We wanted to listen to the Christmas music on the radio. FM 88.6 is playing the oldies from seven to eight.”

“No, I was awake.” I lied just a little. “I
’ve been thinking of past Christmases, missing my parents and brother.”

“Come sit
, Sam,” Connie said in a comforting voice. “You’re too young to have lost both your parents. You’ve grown up to be a respectable person. You should be proud of yourself.”

“That means a lot. Merry Christmas.”

We sat on the couch for the next thirty minutes listening to Christmas music. Burl Ives,
A Holly Jolly Christmas
. Judy Garland,
Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
. Elvis Presley,
Blue Christmas
. Gene Autry & The Pinafores,
Rudolph, the Red Nosed Reindeer
. Perry Como,
Home For The Holidays
. Bing Crosby,
Do You Hear What I Hear
. Johnny Mathis,
Silver Bells
. Brenda Lee,
Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree
.
Dean Martin,
Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!
The Platters,
I'll Be Home for Christmas
.

Harold turned off the radio at eight. “Guess it’s time to open presents.”

“Sam, why don’t you hand them out?” Connie said.

I felt like Santa Claus. I picked up a
small rectangular box and handed it to Harold.

Harold shook the
package, opened it. “A dozen bandanas. These will come in handy next summer. Thank you, Sam.”

The smile on my face lasted an hour while we
opened gifts. I gave Connie a jewelry box and a snowman stickpin. Harold gave her a toaster, slippers, and a butterfly necklace. Connie gave Harold a bottle of Old Spice cologne, a set of screwdrivers, a leather wallet.

The first present I opened
, blue socks. The next, black socks. I was hoping for a gift that wasn’t something to wear.

The last box was heavy. I tore off the wrapping paper. It w
as a camera. My very own camera. It came with two rolls of film, two flip flash, and a carrying case. I jumped off the floor and gave Harold and Connie the biggest hugs.

“The film and flash are expensive, so
be mindful when you’re taking pictures. Also, you’ll have to think of the cost to print the pictures,” Harold said.

“I took the liberty of going to the library and getting you a few books on photography.”
Connie pulled them from underneath the sofa.

“This is the best Christmas ever!” I s
aid. “I’ll definitely read these books. Thank you so very, very much for everything!”

“And thank you too
, Sam,” said Harold.

“Sam, why don’t you pick up the mess? Harold, you
’re on pancake duty. I’ll start the eggs. I’m hungry!”

I spent the afternoon reading the photography books, learning depth of field, the use of lighting, how to correctly use the flash, ISO, ambient lighting, how to handle the background of a photo, the proper way to handle negatives, overexposure, and how to frame the subject in a photo.

I took the camera out of the box and read the instruction manual. Before putting the film in, I tested the camera to make sure I knew how to use it correctly. I couldn’t wait to add my first photo in my journal.

I thought carefully about what would be the first picture I would take.

Walking outside and down the driveway, I took a picture of the farm. This picture would always remind me of the happiest time of my life.

At four-thirty, we went to the neighbors
’ house. Jacob and Jill Hendricks were an elderly couple. Their only child was in the army and couldn’t come home. We’d been to their house for dinner a few times. Jill was a great cook. The turkey was juicy, the skin crispy. She also made stuffing, yams, green bean casserole, and an orange gelatin salad. Connie brought rolls and pumpkin pie.

I stayed up late and wrote in my journal. I didn’t ever want to forget how loved and happy I felt.
A
perfect
day.