To Probe A Beating Heart (18 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Maybe a little shady . . . but not illegal . . .

Jim McClarry was discharged from the Navy in October 1991 and he

took the test to join the Cleveland Heights police force that same month.
He had earned a two year Associates Degree from Cuyahoga Community College before joining the Navy and a career in law enforcement had always been his objective before his enlistment and still was when he was discharged. The fact that his little cousin, Annette Shelton, had gone missing just two months before his discharge, undoubtedly added to the inspiring factors in his becoming a policeman and the thought of possibly being a part of the team that would someday find her kidnapper was another. He passed the test and was one of five people to get the letter inviting him to join the CHPD.

             
“Here we go again” he said on the first day of training, “Back in boot camp.” The group around him laughed and they were suddenly introduced to their training officer, a gruff, former drill instructor who came up to Jim’s chin in total height. Jim later thought to himself, “Yep boot camp.” After graduation he was assigned to a veteran officer with fourteen years on the job.

             
“Hi kid, my name is Sean Daugherty, and I’m gonna’ show you the

ropes.”

              “Hey Sean, my name is Jim McClarry” he replied with a firm handshake, “not ‘kid’, you call me that again and I may want to call you

‘old man’.” Jim stood a solid six feet two and looked Sean straight in the
eye and Sean looked back into Jim’s dark blue eyes and saw a few more similarities between the two.

             
“Fair enough Jimmy.”

              “And my mom and my girl friend call me ‘Jimmy’, and you ain’t that cute.”

             
“Again, fair enough, Jim. Now let’s get to work. First we sit in the

call room and see what’s happening in our world today. Then we get out
there and keep the peace.” Sean was impressed with this rookie, partially because he was bright and apparently tough enough for the job, but also because he was ‘family’. Jim was not aware of the relationship, but he soon would be.

             
After roll call they went down to the parking lot and checked out their cruiser. “Let me drive this first shift and talk as we go, there’s a lot to be said and I know where I want to start. You will have the wheel tomorrow. Okay with you?”

             
“Sure, you’re the boss.”

             
“Well good, I was hoping that I would not have to explain that to

you.”

              They both laughed and got in the car. “1644 is 10-8 on the road,

south on Mayfield,” said Sean into the radio.

              “10-4”

             
“Out,” Sean drove south for a short distance the pulled into a strip

center and parked in a position as if he was watching traffic. He looked at
Jim and said, “We have to talk for a minute and then we get back to the job.”

             
Jim looked curious and said “Okay, talk about what?” thinking he was about to be lectured.

             
“You should know, we are part of a huge family of families. Your uncle and my cousin are married, and there are more of us than you can count. We don’t carry cards, have picnics or wear T-shirts bragging about it, but we are family and we do look out for one another. Annette was and still is one of us and we all want to know what happened to her and where she is. I think we all feel that she’s dead and that the object now is to find the son of a bitch that took her. So we work together. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t give whoever it is the opportunity to cry foul and get off. If you or anyone else in our family hears or learns something, we follow the proper procedure and pass the info on to the right people and then back away. Let the guys upstairs at the station handle the case, and keep it clean.”

             
“We’re related?”

             
“Sort of, but distantly. We are Annette’s family, we are ‘Clan’. I would love to find the SOB that took her and have a minute or three in a locked room with him, but, and it is a big but, we want him caught, not just somebody who might have done this, but THE somebody who DID do this. And we want him to be tried, convicted and personally I want him executed.”

             
“I didn’t know Annette, not really. I saw her a few times and Dave

and I were at Heights High at the same time. Didn’t really give him much
thought until he married my cousin, Clare. She is really torn up over this. And I would like to see it happen as you said.”

             
“Okay, let’s do our job and not get in the way of the detectives doing theirs. Agreed?”

             
“Yeah,” said Jim, “But I wouldn’t mind a minute or two with the SOB myself.”

             
“You’d have to buy a ticket and get in line, Jim, a very long line, there’s more of us than anybody ever thought. Family I mean.”

             
Jim mulled this over and said, “I remember stories about the family doing things, like that kid in California about a hundred years ago. Somebody killed him and when the system did not do their job, well the family did it for them.”

             
“Yeah, his name was Liam Rynne. The guy that killed him was found by the family, the Clan, and dropped in a pit for three years. When they finally told the police where he was, all that was left was his bones, the rest of him, well food for worms or rats, who knows.”

             
“So is the Clan still active, I mean are they involved in this case,

Annette’s disappearance?”

              “I have had a few calls from some people asking questions. They are not interfering in the investigation, more like they want to help if they could.”

             
“So, who from the family is involved?”

             
“As I see it, the way this works is, we are a big collection of people. Some of us are cops, like you and me, others are lawyers, engineers, doctors, bus drivers, teachers or ditch diggers. We are a little of everything. When a situation has to be addressed, like this case, the ones that could be most effective in helping are invited to do something. Something like you may be asked to shadow someone because you being a cop would know how to do it and it would get done right. A lawyer may be asked for a little legal advice, but nobody has to do more than they can without being burdened.”

              “So maybe I would be asked to follow somebody for a day when I’m not working?”

             
“Yeah, that’s the idea, and somewhere there is a group of older folks who decide what ‘Projects’ we may get involved in. As I understand it, if you have a problem, a serious problem, that you cannot deal with on your own, then you are eligible for a little assistance. Someone would have to know who to talk to. It’s not as easy as putting an ad in a newspaper. The family, or the Clan keeps an eye on things in general and when something merits the type of help that they can provide, they look at it. Annette’s case is in that class of situations that get the second look and maybe more. They control the money to pay expenses and they pick a team to run an operation. Kinda like when they caught that guy in Oklahoma and dragged his butt back to California and dumped him in the pit.”

             
“They organized that deal ?”

             
“Not really, that one was kind of the kick off for what we have today. We are not entirely like the Mafia, but in some ways we are.”

             
“How do you mean?”

             
“Well we have a senior council, a group of the older and more responsible people in the family. They get together or talk periodically and check the landscape, see if anyone in the Clan needs help, or is in trouble. They may pay a doctor bill here and there or help someone find a job, or like with Annette, help the system find the bad guy.”

             
“And pitch him in a pit?”

             
“That was a long time ago, today they may put out the word that a

search party is being organized and in need of help. They did that when

Annette went missing, we had a coupl’a dozen folks from around the

country just show up and help beat the bushes. And if you asked, they’d
be back tomorrow to do it again.”

             
“If they found the bad guy, would they do the pit thing again?”

             
“Who knows, I guess if the system didn’t take care of the guy, the Clan just might. Anyway, the point of my telling you this is that you or I may be asked to do something, something perfectly legal, maybe a little shady, but not illegal.”

             
“Nothing illegal?”

             
“Again, we are not Mafia. We can get tough, but were are not gangsters. And I guess that we probably would be open to violating a civil right or two, if the need arose and the benefit was obvious. There was a situation in Pennsylvania a couple of years ago where a street gang roughed up an elderly couple. The gang was convinced to leave them alone, forever. It apparently involved a few broken limbs and a car disappearing, but they heard the message and now, now there is peace.”

             
The radio crackled to life announcing a traffic problem and Sean acknowledged the call and said to Jim, “Think about all this and we should sit down and talk more, soon.”

             
“Okay, I am very interested in learning more.”

             
They pulled out of the parking lot and drove for about three minutes in silence. Jim was looking out the window when they passed a doughnut shop, he turned and looked at Sean, but before he could say anything, Sean said, “Don’t go there.” They both laughed and Jim’s on the job training started.

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CHAPTER TWENTY

They had not been to church in a while . . .

On June 14, 1992 Annette would have celebrated her eighth birthday. It was a very sad day in the Shelton house, she had been missing almost a full year. It is not something that goes away, the pain does not diminish, the sadness stays in the heart and the hope that Annette would someday come home is all that kept Dave and Clare from losing what is left of their sanity. Clare had cried herself to sleep many nights over the last year and Dave spent his free time trying to divert her attention from the pain that constantly enveloped both of them. They did not smile, they did not laugh, they did not spend time with friends, they were very much alone.

             
Clare baked a cake. Annette liked layer cakes that were chocolate on the top and vanilla on the bottom with chocolate frosting all over. She sliced the cake and put it on the front porch table and sat there looking up and down the street. A group of kids, Annette’s friends were playing outside and seeing Clare came over to her to ask if there was anything new.

             
“No, I’m afraid not. Today is her birthday, she’s eight and I wish she was here.” Clare’s eyes were red and swollen and a tear rolled down her cheek.

             
Danny touched her hand and said, “Maybe she is in heaven, that’s

what my dad thinks. He said she is too nice to be anywhere else.”

              Clare almost smiled. “Please have some cake and remember her,” and she went in the house. The kids sat down and shared the cake and sang a very subdued Happy Birthday song and then went home.

             
Dave had gone out to get a few things at the store and when he got home had planned on taking Clare to church. He walked up on the front porch and saw the remains of a cake three slices still there and was thinking about that when Clare said, “I would like to go to church in a few minutes and then maybe we could walk in the park and talk.”

             
“Sure, I see someone had cake this morning.”

             
“Yeah, some of Annette’s friends were here. It was nice, they’re good kids.”

             
Dave noted her eyes were not as red as they had been and said, “I’ll put this stuff away and we can go.”

             
Clare said, “Okay, I’m ready when you are.”

             
They had not been to church in a while, and were greeted by a number of people when they arrived. After the mass, the crowd grew a little larger and they wanted to get away. They were a little curt with some answers to questions from friends and they got in their car and drove to the park.

             
As they walked around they passed a number of soccer fields and

baseball diamonds full of kids laughing and screaming, having fun. Clare
looked a little sad but no tears. She was surfacing, coming to grips with the fact that Annette was gone and she had to go on. She squeezed Dave’s hand and the both of them felt some of the weight lift off their shoulders. When they got home, the rest of the cake had been eaten and there was a birthday card on the table signed by the kids. It said Happy birthday on the outside and inside they had written “We miss you” and they all signed it. Clare cried again, a different cry, a happy cry.

* * *