South River Incident (17 page)

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Authors: Ann Mullen

Tags: #Suspense, #Thriller, #Fiction

BOOK: South River Incident
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The room fell silent. The
comment about stealing his girl took us all by surprise. I guess nobody
expected Cole to show his jealous side in public. It was not something he would
normally do.

“I’m glad that we got that
out in the open,” Mom said. She looked around the room. “Does anyone else have
any other business before we continue? If you do, speak up or forever...”

“I’d like to ask
something,” Claire said, stepping forward. “What’s this about Billy stealing
Cole’s girl? What’s going on, Jesse?”

I stuck out my hand to show
her my ring and said, “Billy and I are engaged. It just happened.”

Claire was so shocked, she
had to sit down. “Well, that was fast,” she said. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Congratulations would work
for me,” I said. “How about you, Billy?”

“Yeah, that works for me,
too.”

“Congratulations,” Claire
said. Her voice was just a whisper. She glanced over at Cole. “I’m sorry,” she
mouthed to him.

Cole bounced back by
sticking out his hand to Billy. “Congratulations,” he said. “I hope the two of
you’ll be very happy.”

However, the look on his
face said differently.

“Let’s get back to the
matter at hand,” Billy said.

“That’s Laura Westover,”
Cole said. “You can’t be serious. Her husband’s one of the most decorated
officers on the force. He’s gotten more awards than two people combined.”

“I can assure you that she
is the woman I saw in my house,” Mom insisted. “I don’t make up stories. I only
got a quick glance, but I’m sure it was her.  I don’t care if her husband is
the King of
Siam
... she’s the one.”

Chapter 14

I
t was
five
o’clock
when
Billy and I left the hospital. Mom had
promised to stay in bed and do what Dr. Bryant said, but was determined to leave
first thing in the morning, no matter what.
I tried to talk her out of
it, but she was adamant. Her beloved husband had died in that same hospital and
she refused to stay a moment longer than necessary. I guess she was a little
superstitious. I couldn’t blame her.

“Don’t worry about your
mom, Jesse. She’ll be fine,” Billy assured me. “I talked to Claire. I told her
that if your mom tries to get her to take her home before the doctor signs the
release form, to give me a call. I’ll go right back to the hospital and sit on
her if I have to.”

“My mom’s a determined woman.
When she sets her mind to something, there’s no stopping her.”

“Don’t forget, I’m a
determined man. She’s not getting out of the hospital without me knowing about
it.”

“You and she have much in
common; you’re both stubborn.”

“Ah, ha... the pot calling the
kettle black. It seems to me that you can be pretty persistent when you set
your mind to something, too.”

“I must admit that I can
be,” I said.

I wasn’t really paying much
attention to our conversation. I was more concerned with the weather. Snow was
falling and the wind had picked up. The Jeep rocked back and forth all the way
to Mom’s house, and I could see Billy was having a hard time keeping it on the
road.

“Why don’t you put the car
in four-wheel drive?”

“It’s in four-wheel drive,
but even that won’t do us any good against this wind.” He looked concerned. “I
haven’t felt anything like this in a long time. As a matter-of-fact, the last
time I experienced wind like this was when we had that blizzard in 1995. It was
a butt-kicker. Now that I think about it, everyone in five surrounding counties
were snowed in. We got eighteen inches in three hours one day, and seven inches
the next.
Six people died. It was a nightmare. Greene, Nelson,
Madison
,
Albemarle
,
and
Orange
Counties
were crippled.
Charlottesville
was like a ghost town.”

“Oh, that makes me feel
good.”

“I’m sorry, Jesse, I wasn’t
trying to scare you, but I think we’re in for a rough ride. We’d better take
this storm seriously. We’ll go fix the hole in the wall the best we can, and
lock down your mom’s house. We’ll stop by my apartment before we head home. I
need to get a few things.”

“What about Laura Westover.
Aren’t we going to go question her?”

“Not today, kid. It’s going
to have to wait.” He shot a glance over at me as he drove up to Mom’s garage.
“Don’t go and get any funny ideas about going to see her without me. I don’t
plan on leaving you alone. The last time I did that, look what happened.”

“I remember that because of
my actions, the case was solved.”

“And you were almost
killed.”

“That was a close call. I
thought for sure that I was a goner. Don’t worry, the thought never crossed my
mind this time.” I opened the car door and got out, fighting against the wind
as I made my way to the utility room door. “Besides,” I said as I shoved my key
into the deadbolt, “Cole’s probably got her in custody by now.”

“No doubt in my mind. He’s
so efficient at his job.”

I started to give Billy a
dirty look, but stopped cold. Pieces of wood from the pie safe that once sat
between the living room and the dining area was scattered about as if it had
been smashed with a twenty pound mall. Its contents lay everywhere. Snow was
blowing in through a hole the size of a basketball in the wall.

“I’ll fix the hole while
you clean up the mess,” Billy instructed.

I picked up the pieces of
broken wood and piled them in the corner of the kitchen, just in case Mom
wanted to try and get the pie safe fixed. I had serious doubts about that
endeavor, but you never know... anything’s possible. I found an empty box in
the utility room and used it to store the endless supply of pill bottles,
papers, pens, bills, and advertisements that I collected off the floor. As I
swept, I heard Billy nailing something over the hole. A few minutes later, he
walked in carrying a small piece of plywood. By then, I had everything cleaned
up and had made a thorough search of the house. I found nothing out of the
ordinary except an overturned vase of flowers in Mom’s bedroom. I was sure that
had happened in Laura Westover’s haste to escape.

“You did a good job of
cleaning up the mess. As soon as I get this piece of plywood nailed over this
hole, we can get out of here. Did you find anything while I was outside?”

“Just a flower vase knocked
over on a table in Mom’s bedroom. Everything else seems fine... except for that
big hole in the wall.” I laughed.

“Not for long, my dear.” He
placed the piece of wood over the hole and hammered several nails into it. “It
isn’t pretty, but it serves the purpose.”

“I made sure all the
windows were locked, the deadbolt was secure on the front door, and I set the
thermostat on sixty-eight. I think that just about covers everything.”

“I’ll put the hammer back
in the garage while you lock the back door.”

The house was secure. We
hurried out of
Dogwood
Valley
as fast as we safely could. The snow pelted the
windshield as the wipers worked overtime to keep up. The car heater constantly
churned out a flow of hot air. Fallen tree limbs made maneuvering a difficult
task.

“This is going to be a
rough ride. Tighten your seat belt.”

It was a harrowing ride.
Cars were stalled along the highway; some in ditches. The police were out in
full force, helping motorists and directing traffic. Tow trucks passed us at
breakneck speed, in a hurry to make that all-American buck. Every inch of snow that
fell was another dollar in their pocket. I knew that from past experience.

 I had a friend back in
Newport News
who owned a wrecker business. I once asked him why he risked his life going out
in dangerous weather, and he told me, the worst the weather, the more money he
made. What a scary way to make a living, I thought to myself. Yet, the last I
heard, his business was thriving, and he was getting ready to build a new home.

“I’ve changed my mind.
We’re taking a detour,” Billy said after a long silence. “I thought we’d ride
by South River Estates and check on our friends, Laura and Brad.” He handed me
his cell phone.  “Check caller ID and find the number for the hospital. Tell
your mom the hole’s fixed and the house is locked down. Ask her about Claire and
the kids. They don’t need to be up there in that house alone. They can stay
with us until the storm passes.”

“What about Mom?”

“She’s not going anywhere.”
He gave me a knowing look. “She’s right where she needs to be and this storm is
going to keep her there.”

I made the call, and after
a few grunts and groans from Claire, I convinced her it would be safer for her
and the kids to stay with us. I wasn’t crazy about the idea, but she was my
sister. I told her we would be there in about two hours. I figured that would
give Billy and me enough time to have a chat with the Westovers, get to the
hospital, and then back to our place before the storm reached its deadly force.

Within the fifteen minutes
it took us to get to South River Estates, another inch of snow had accumulated
on the ground. I feared we were in for a storm like the one Billy had described
earlier, and I wasn’t prepared for the excitement. I had never lived anywhere
that the weather could shut you up in your house for a week, and cut you off from
civilization. What did people do for a whole week without a television and a
phone? I had a feeling I was about to find out.

South River Estates was a
gated community of twenty high-priced homes. Each two-story house sat on a
half-acre lot, surrounded by evergreen trees (according to the brochure I saw
in a grocery store) and offered a place of refinement and seclusion in which to
live. The starting price was three hundred and ten thousand dollars, which made
me wonder how Roy and Mary could have afforded such a place. He was a cop, and
she didn’t have a job. The upkeep alone must have been outrageous, and even a
cop on-the-take couldn’t make that much, could he? 

A thought struck me. I
turned to Billy as we pulled up to the entrance gate and said, “I thought Roy
and Mary once lived here. Are you also telling me that another
Greene
County
deputy
lives in this community?”

“I was wondering when you’d
pick up on that little tidbit. The Westovers moved into the Keen’s place three
days after they moved out.”

Billy reached in his
pocket, removed his ID and flashed it at the security guard as we approached.

“What address, sir?” the
guard asked.

“It’s number
Seven, Pine Tree Lane
,” Billy replied.

The guard’s eyes widened.
“There’s nobody home at that address, sir.”

“Darn,” Billy turned to me,
pretending to be disappointed. “We were told they were at home.” He looked back
at the guard. “Do you have any idea when they’ll be back? We’re investigating a
murder and had some questions for the Westovers.”

“A murder?” He examined
Billy’s ID closer. “That’s what all the fuss was about. You just missed them.
The police took Mrs. Westover out a few minutes ago, and Mr. Westover followed
them. I knew those folks were going to be trouble. Every tenant who has lived
in that house since the owner started renting it out has been nothing but a
headache.”

“Who owns the place? Can
you tell me? I wouldn’t want to get you into any trouble.”

“I don’t see why not. It
was in the papers and all over the news about four years ago.”

“What was all over the
news? I don’t understand.” Billy appeared to be intrigued. “Did something
happen here?”

“Yes, people were murdered,
sir.” The guard leaned closer to Billy’s window. “Clayton Tyler owns the place.
Four years ago, his wife and two kids were murdered right in their own beds.
Poor fellow. He was out of town when it happened. The police never did catch
the guys who did it. But from what I hear, Mr. Tyler did. Word on the street is
that he found the guys and had them killed. As far as I’m concerned, he did the
right thing—they deserved to die. He rents out the place now. He says he just
couldn’t live there anymore.”

The name sparked my memory.

Tyler
—that
name sounds familiar,” I said. I cast my eyes at Billy. “Do we know him?”

“You ought to recognize the
name,” the guard boasted. “Mr. Tyler owns Imperial Distributors. It’s a big
company in
Charlottesville
that serves as a distribution center for all sorts of
stuff from furniture to exotic foods.  Companies buy products from other
companies, and Imperial takes care of the transportation and oversight of
delivery. At least, that’s what Mr. Tyler said. I never did quite understand
the operation, but hey, I’m no businessman either. Whatever he had going on
sure made him a lot of money.”

“You think we could have a
look around?” Billy whispered. “We won’t touch anything. I promise.” 

“I don’t know. I could lose
my job.”

Billy whipped out a
twenty-dollar bill and handed it to him. “There’s another one in it for you
when we leave.”

The guy grabbed the money
and waved us on through without making us sign the visitor’s log that he had in
his hand.

“Boy, you’re slick,” I
said, winking at Billy as we drove away. “He didn’t even make us sign in.
That’s probably why the police didn’t catch the guys who killed
Tyler
’s family.
They probably bought him off just like you did. And that’s probably how Clayton
Tyler found out who the killers were—through the guard.”

“Money talks, honey. I’m
just surprised I got by so cheap.”

Number Seven was an exact
replica of the other houses we had ridden past. As with the rest, the number
posted above the front door was not just a number, but was spelled out in its
entirety. I found that to be so classy.

“We should do that to our
place.” I pointed to the house number as Billy drove up and parked in the
driveway. “I can see it now.” I spread my hands out in a sweeping motion.
“Two.”

“If that’s what you want,”
he replied, getting out of the Jeep and coming over to my side of the car. “It
fits. You’re going to be my second wife and I’m going to be your second
boyfriend since you moved to the mountains.” His smile was infectious.

I grabbed his arm and let
him help me out of the car. “That’s fine as long as you don’t mean
second-best.”

“Never,” he said. His eyes
met mine for an intense moment.

He reached in his pocket
and pulled out two pairs of latex gloves. “Here, put these on.”

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