Authors: Dennis Larsen
front doors when a voice hollered across
the
office,
feminine
but
barking
nonetheless.
“Ms. Delaney, don’t leave just yet,
will you!” the shout came from the back of
the office area.
Deputy Guest could be seen
moving quickly through the desks and
chairs to reach the group.
“I have a couple of quick
questions for you if you don’t mind, will
only take a second,” the officer said.
“Sure, you guys just wait for me
outside, I’ll be right out,” Blanche said.
Officer Guest directed Blanche
into the Sheriff’s office, she was sure he
wouldn’t care.
“I was wondering if you’ve given
anymore thought to who might be causing
these problems for Jasper and Seymour? I
have a possible suspect in mind but I’d
rather hear it from you before I plant the
information in your head, if you know
what I mean.”
“Yes, I have thought about it but
can’t say there’s anybody..., wait a minute,
there is somebody that is a little odd but
he’s not done anything to me, if that’s what
you’re after?”
“Not necessarily, but even odd
behavior that struck you as unusual,” the
deputy further clarified what she was
looking for.
“Working with the public we run
into odd behavior all the time, but
directed specifically at me, there is a guy
that has been in the library a couple times
in the past few weeks. His name is Rob,
was in just yesterday, struck me as odd,
kind of hitting on me, but said he had a
girlfriend he was trying to convince to
move to California with him. Sounded like
the move was imminent.”
“Describe him for me,” Guest
requested.
The librarian did so with amazing
clarity and recollection, speaking faster
than Natalie could keep up. A few minutes
later the two had worked out a statement,
which Blanche read over and confirmed it
was a concise overview of the things she
had reported to the deputy. Blanche signed
the statement, as she was familiar with
doing by now, and was about to leave
when the deputy thought of one more thing.
“Did anybody else see this guy or
were you working alone?” she asked.
“Yeah, for sure, Mr. Marcus, the
gentleman with us today acting as our
chauffeur talked with him as well,”
Blanche replied.
Officer Guest could hardly contain
her excitement. The description given to
her was a dead ringer for Lester
Cummings and now she had a second
witness that could also put Lester in the
mix. It was interesting that he had chosen
to use the name Rob when speaking with
Blanche. The deputy made sure to write
everything down this time around. She
asked that Blanche send him in and she
went through the same process with
Marcus. The custodian issued a more
vague description but generally the same
as Blanche. He agreed to provide any
further information that came to mind,
signed the statement and left with the
others.
* * *
Beverly was disappointed that
she’d not heard from Felix after their
morning romp the day before, but was sure
she would get a chance to pull his chain
again today. He’d said something about
the property they had met over and the
possibility of an offer, which would
certainly be the icing on the cake for the
realtor. She reviewed her calendar for the
day, over her usual cup of coffee, picked
up the house a bit before she dressed and
headed to her office. The planner
reminded her of the date she had with
Blanche for the following night, she was
so anxious to tell her about the new man
that had swept into her life and bedroom.
In the late afternoon she finally
heard from Felix. He apologized for not
getting back to her sooner but had been on
the phone non-stop with the developers.
They had come to an agreement, at least
from their side, in terms of an offer with a
few ‘subject to’s’ still in place. Felix told
her he had done his best to hammer out an
agreement that he thought would be
acceptable to all parties and was anxious
to present it to her. He also indicated that
he wanted to show her something else and
would be by later to do just that. The con
man was vague on the time he would do
the presenting but asked her to be home
from 6:00 p.m. and on, that way she
wouldn’t miss him. Beverly was more
than excited; perhaps she was turning the
corner on a newfound and more fulfilling
life.
Just that morning her lawyer had
phoned saying that Mr. Jeremy Marshall,
her stepson, had contacted their office,
with one last lowball offer of ten million,
which they flatly turned down given the
prior direction they had received from
Beverly herself. The lawyer suggested that
with no further hang-ups there was a
possibility that she’d be a millionaire by
Christmas. He was careful not to give her
too much hope as Jeremy had already filed
a petition to reduce the amount arbitrarily
assigned by the court as the final value of
the estate. The Marshall lawyers were
contesting the value assigned in a market
that was in an undeniable downturn.
Beverly was disappointed but not
surprised, in any case, she knew the estate
issue was winding down and she could
soon get on with her life and maybe her
new love.
* * *
Seymour was anxious to get his
life back to normal as soon as possible.
Taking advice from his mother and
rejecting it outright, he returned to the one
class he had in the afternoon, astonishing
some of the students and drawing high
fives from others. The few hours he was
away from home passed without incident
but he was excited to go to work that
evening. He needed to be with Blanche in
a way he’d never felt before with another
woman. His heart yearned and craved her
companionship, he could tell from the pull
on his heartstrings that the infatuation had
grown. He could not deny the feelings of
love and concern he had for the
fascinating Blanche D. Delaney.
Shortly before six, Seymour ate
with his mother at the kitchen table and
talked of the week’s past events. She tried
to persuade him to stay home from work
but knew it was a losing argument.
Nothing would keep him away from
Blanche or the library tonight. Their
discussion went full circle and ended up
at the jail earlier in the day.
“I was so glad to walk out of there
today, mom. Probably next to dad dying,
the worst few days of my life,” Seymour
said.
“If it weren’t for Blanche you’d
still be sitting there,” his mother informed
him. Having said that she got up from the
table and started clearing dishes away.
“What do you mean? What did she
do?” he asked, anxious to hear the answer.
“She didn’t tell you?” his mom
asked.
“Tell me what? She just told me
you had arranged the bail and I’d be
getting out today.”
“Seymour, she took the money she
had set aside for a down payment on a
place and gave it to us for your bail. The
bank would only give me $150,000; she
came up with the rest. I have to say, she’s
a remarkable girl. I was wrong about her,”
his mother said, moving to stand behind
him and putting her hands on his sinewy
shoulders.
“You’re kidding, I had no idea.”
He could think of nothing else to say but
sat in silence the last few minutes he had
before needing to leave for work.
With his mom in the kitchen,
Seymour went to her room and removed
the rifle from the closet and filled his
pocket with a handful of shells from a box
that was nearby. He managed to get out the
door and put the gun behind the seat of the
truck without her being the wiser. Jasper
had been unprepared in defending
Blanche; he would not make the same
mistake. Seymour had shot the old rifle a
few times. He knew enough that his dad
called it a .50 caliber Sharps, the bullets
as big around as his index finger and
almost as long. The weapon had been
handed down over the generations from
the days of the Civil War, and although
old, his father had used it yearly to put
venison on their table. Seymour had shot it
a little bit in his youth, had one hell of a
kick, but never had much interest in
hunting but would go just to hang out with
his dad. He tossed the shells in the glove
box, hollered out the window to his
mother that he’d see her later and headed
for town and Blanche at the library.
* * *
Deputy Guest worked feverishly
throughout the afternoon, with the help of
Deputy Breland and Ricky, to put the
finishing touches on the warrant request.
The information provided by the old timer
had proven just what they needed to put
the final piece of the warrant together. She
had driven out earlier in the afternoon and
taken their statement. It seemed that the
old guy got to thinking after they talked the
other day and the more he drove the
tractor around his field the more he
remembered about a friend of his that
passed away a good ten years before. Had
a son that raced motorcycles on the MX
Circuit when he was younger. The
farmer’s friend would often brag about the
trophies his son was stacking up. The
Deputy had grown more excited with each
passing minute, hoping the old timer could
remember the name.
As he concluded his statement she
asked, “And can you remember your
friend’s name or his son’s?”
His wife had helped to translate
some of the slur and slang but there was
no missing his answer. “Well, shur I do,
ain’t losin’ ma mind am I motha. Feller’s
name was Cummings, Spencer Cummings,
but I can’t say I mumber the bo’s.”
With Lester Cummings squarely in
their sights and the paperwork in hand
Guest had raced to the courthouse in hopes
of catching the judge. The timing was
close; she caught the judge climbing into
his 4x4 as she pulled into the parking lot.
She hit her lights and siren to get his
attention causing Otis to bark and growl
from his cage. The judge had been more
than understanding, especially considering
the impact the information could have on
the Wood and Stalker cases. He informed
the deputy that he would review the
request at home and issue the warrant
from there. He would notify the Sheriff’s
Office once he had done his work and she
could drop by his house to pick up the
search warrant later.
Deputy Guest now found herself
staring at the phone and talking with the
dispatch staff as most of the officers had
retired for the night. She could see a light
on in 'The Wolf’s office, making plans for
the raid in the morning no doubt. All
officers had been told to report for duty at
4:30 a.m., they would need to gear up with
vests and shotguns, in preparation for the
raid which would go down at 5:30 the
next morning. The office had been abuzz
with excitement in hopes of bringing The
Stalker to justice.
* * *
At 5:30 p.m. the charming wise
guy parked his car a mile from Bev’s
location in the parking lot of a busy
restaurant and began the walk to her
house. Iggy would soon be on his way to
the property near the base and then off for
chicken to be enjoyed by the director and
his new acquaintance. A college football
game was the lure that brought the two