Killerfind (13 page)

onday
morning, Rhetta flew
through the drive-through at Subway, and grabbed an egg-white-only sandwich on
a wheat wrap, and a large cup of coffee. Traffic was especially light and she
made it to work an hour early. This time, she noted with satisfaction, she beat
Woody there, so she snagged the parking spot closest to the door. Grinning, she
unlocked the office. The coffee aroma wafted tantalizingly. She set the
steaming cup down carefully and unwrapped the sandwich. While waiting for the
computer to boot up, she turned on the radio, then sat back, savoring her
coffee and enjoying her breakfast.

This was going to be a great week, she just knew it.
There were several loans that would be closing soon, plus this morning the
fresh air smelled sweet with low humidity for the first time in weeks. With the
clear sky and the songbirds chattering, the morning couldn’t have been better.

When she had picked up Randolph from the hospital
yesterday morning, Dr. Marinthe cautioned him to take it easy for a few days.
Rhetta had hovered over him most of the day, much to his annoyance. Finally,
she relented and didn’t follow him out to his studio, where he said he just
wanted to paint and unwind. She smiled as she watched the cats follow him to
the studio. He tossed them treats along the way. He was acting like his old
self.

Humming a song she’d just heard on the radio, she
headed straight to the kitchen area to start a pot of coffee. One morning cup
wouldn’t suffice. The Subway coffee was only a tide over.

Returning to her desk, she caught the tail end of a
local radio news report.

. . . Police were called to Oak
Forest Subdivision after a report that the body of a man was found in a barn
scheduled to be torn down. The identity of the dead man hasn’t been revealed
pending notification of next-of-kin. This is the same barn where unidentified
remains were found earlier this month. Stay tuned for updates on this developing
story.

Rhetta sat down hard and stared at the radio.

The coffee turned to acid while the egg wrap curdled
in her stomach. She scanned the computer for the local television station’s
website and stared at the scrolling headline. It said the same thing.

Woody came in just then, waving a newspaper at her.
“Did you see this?”

She didn’t answer.

Woody stopped at her desk. “Rhetta, are you all
right? You look like you’re sick.”

With that, Rhetta tuned and bolted for the restroom.
Woody’s assessment proved correct. She flushed the breakfast down the commode
and splashed water on her face.

When she returned, still drying her face with a
paper towel, Woody was seated in front of her desk. “Woody, I was at that barn
Saturday night, and saw Jeremy’s truck there. That body—it has to be Jeremy.
Maybe he was already dead when I was there. What could’ve happened? Did he have
a heart attack? Oh, God, was he murdered?” She whispered this and buried her
face in her hands.

“What do you mean, you were out there Saturday
night? Why were you there?’

She filled him in on what had happened to Randolph
and the phone call from Mylene Allard.

“I have to call Randolph,” she said and grabbed her
purse. “I think Mylene Allard may have had something to do with this.”
Frustrated and shaking, she couldn’t find her phone. She snatched the desk
phone and punched in his number. It rang until his voice mail kicked on.

“Please call me as soon as you can.” She
disconnected.

Her phone buzzed from the depths of her purse just
as she set the receiver down.

“Rhetta, oh my God, did you hear?” Evidently, Ricky
had heard. Her voice caught in a choking sob. “I can’t reach Jeremy on his cell
phone. There’s no answer at his house or at Anjanette’s. I think that it might
be Jeremy they found out at the barn. Oh, God, Rhetta, I’m scared.”

Rhetta didn’t know what she could say to comfort
Ricky. Her head swirled with the memory of driving past the barn and seeing
Jeremy’s truck. And of not wanting to stop because she wanted to avoid Jeremy.
“I’m sure you are, honey. Please, stay strong. Let me try to reach Randolph
again. He knows the coroner. I’ll try to find out something.”

As she disconnected, Woody, who had left her desk to
answer the ringing phone at his own desk, waved frantically at her. “Hold on,
Randolph, she’s coming.” He gestured for Rhetta to pick up.

She punched the hold light. “Randolph? Did you
hear?”

“I did, Rhetta. Are you all right? How’s Ricky?”

Rhetta paused. “Ricky is frantic. Is it Jeremy? The
radio didn’t say.”

This time it was Randolph who paused. “Yes, Rhetta,
it’s Jeremy. He’s dead.”

hetta
recoiled as though
kicked by a mule. “Dear God.” She ran her hands through her hair. “How did he
die? Was it from natural causes?” Although she asked, and prayed it was so,
deep in her gut she knew it wouldn’t be.

“Matt said it appears to be from a blow to the head,
although he couldn’t confirm until after the autopsy.”

“When will that be?” Rhetta began to swallow, hoping
to keep the nausea at bay.

“Matt isn’t a physician, so the autopsy will be done
in St. Louis, by the medical examiner there.” Matthew Clippard, the Cape Girardeau
County Coroner, was an undertaker, not a doctor. In second-class counties like
Cape, no medical license was required to run for coroner. Typically, the post
was held by funeral directors.

“Isn’t that where the other body was taken, too?”

“It was. By the way, Matt said they have a cause of
death on the first remains, but are waiting for testing to confirm the
identity. The first victim also died from a blow to the head.”

Rhetta shuddered. “Two people killed in that barn
each by a blow to the head? Do we have a serial killer on the loose?”

Randolph grunted. “I think it’s a little premature
to suspect a serial killer. There’s been a great deal of time between the two
deaths. But since there’ve been two men killed in that same barn, I’m sure the
police will be looking at all angles.”

“I was there Saturday night, Randolph,” Rhetta
whispered. Her eyes welled. Why in the heck had she gone out there? She could
kick herself.

“There? You mean at the barn? When did you go there?
And why?”

She told him about the strange phone call, and her
decision to drive by out of curiosity, then what she saw when she drove past
the barn.

“I’m coming to get you, and we’re going straight to
the Sheriff’s office. You may be a witness. Don’t talk to anyone. I’m on my
way.” He disconnected.

She nodded, although she knew he couldn’t see her.
She stared at the phone.

Woody appeared by her desk. “You’re in it up to your
eyeballs, aren’t you?” he said, shaking his head. He lowered himself into her
guest chair and began massaging his slick head.

“I didn’t see anything, Woody, only Jeremy’s truck.”
She pushed a file away from her. She couldn’t concentrate on work, now. “Maybe
I should have stopped at the barn when I was out there.”

Woody shook his head, stood and began to pace. “If
you would’ve stopped, how do you know you wouldn’t have been hit over the head,
and be dead now, too?”

That thought made whatever was left in her stomach
churn, and she bolted again for the bathroom.

*
* *

She
came out of the restroom just as Randolph walked through the front door. With
him was LuEllen, reporting for work, her expression somber. Her grey hair was
pulled back into a knot at her neck and her normally dancing blue eyes were
huge and questioning.

“I heard the news on the way in here,” LuEllen began,
dropping her purse on the table and continuing to Rhetta’s desk. “What in
heaven’s name is going on?” She stared from Woody to Rhetta.

Rhetta patted her arm. “LuEllen, I’ll be out of the
office for a while. I’m going with Randolph to make a statement at the
Sheriff’s office.”

They nodded. Rhetta grabbed her purse. Randolph held
the door.

“Let me drive, Randolph, I don’t think you should be
driving today. Dr. Marinthe said not to for a few days, remember?” He ignored
her and held the truck’s passenger door open. She climbed in.

He hurried to the driver’s side, and slid in behind
the wheel. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I may have a knock on my
noggin, but I think you may be too upset to drive. Let me be the pilot, okay?”

Rhetta fastened her seat belt. “I’m not as upset as
I am shocked. I’m worried about Ricky. Does she know about Jeremy?”

Randolph maneuvered into the northbound lane on
Kingshighway before answering. “She knows. I called Talbot Reasoner on my way
here, and told him you would be coming in for a statement. He told me they had
Ricky there and a detective was questioning her.”

“Questioning her? What do you mean?”

Randolph reached over and squeezed his wife’s hand.
“They found her metal detector by the body. It had fresh blood and other DNA
evidence on it. They suspect it may be the murder weapon. ”

“The metal detector?” Rhetta flashed on her last
memory of the thing. She couldn’t remember whether or not Ricky had taken it
with her when they left the barn the day they found the body.

“They’ve pulled prints off it, and are waiting for
the results,” Randolph continued, turning right into the Cape Girardeau County
offices.

“I had to be fingerprinted to work for the bank,”
Rhetta said, squeezing Randolph’s hand. “They’re going to find my prints on
that metal detector, too.”