J. Margos - Shattered Image

“Great.”

“Heh, you’re a chip off the old block. Nice work, kiddo. I’d like to hear it run, drive it a little bit.”

“Anytime you want, Dad.”

“Got a son, got a grandson-neither one of ’em is worth much in the garage. Got a redheaded daughter who could overhaul any engine as well as any guy can, and better than most. Heck, I think this calls for Mexican food and a game of pool. What do you think, Little Red?”

“I’m all over that, Daddy.”

My dad was like a doctor with a prescription for my mood. He was one smart old guy. He went inside and took a quick shower, while I closed up the garage for him. By the time I got inside and had washed my hands, he was in clean trousers, a plaid shirt and a lightweight jacket. He had put on socks and his work shoes again. I don’t think the man owned but one pair of shoes. He liked them and that was all that mattered.

We went to Dad’s favorite hole-in-the-wall Tex-Mex joint. There we ate cheesy, greasy food that I almost never eat, and talked more about my latest two cases.

“What are y’all going to do if Drew can’t get that warrant to search that ol’ boy’s property?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll get the evidence eventually, and then we’ll identify the killer. The last thing any of us want to do is go to trial and have the killer acquitted, so we want to be careful how we do things.”

“No kidding. They did that in one of them cases up in Dallas where some ol’ boy killed his wife. They went to trial, and I wondered at the time why they were in such an all-fired hurry.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I remember that one, too.”

“Nut can just go out into the middle of the street in downtown Dallas and confess it if he wants to. Ain’t nothin’ anyone can do. The law can’t touch him.” Daddy shook his head in disgust.

“I know, Dad, it’s called double jeopardy, and that’s exactly what we’re trying to avoid here by being careful.”

“Well, from what you tell me, that boy Brian disappeared in Hempstead, and that’s where y’all think he was probably killed, along with that woman, right?”

“Yes.”

“He wouldn’t have had any reason to go up to Viola as far you can tell, right?”

“Right-so far anyway.”

“So, what was Addie Waldrep doing in Hempstead?”

“We don’t know, Dad.”

“Well, I ain’t no detective, but it seems to me that if a person kills someone somewhere, or buries someone somewhere, it’s for a reason. I mean, he don’t just throw darts at a map, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, she was there for a reason, and that’s where the killer killed her with that Brian kid. What’s Addie’s tie to Hempstead?”

“I don’t know. We’ve asked people in Hempstead about Addie, but no one knows her. Mike and Tommy asked, and so did I.”

“Well, I don’t know, Little Red, but it’s got to be there somewhere. I know you’ll find it.”

Dad and I headed to the pool hall. We played pool until eleven o’clock that night. Daddy was just the tonic I needed to get out of the doldrums and back on track. I want to be just like him when I grow up.

The phone woke me the next morning. It sounded like a fire bell and I groaned as I rolled over to pick it up. It was Chief Grant.

“Dr. Sullivan, it’s Chief Grant from Hempstead. I wanted to let you know that we’ve discovered some bones in a fresh shallow grave, similar to what has been found up there in Austin.”

I sat up in bed.

“Old bones?”

“They appear to be.”

“How were they found?”

The chief cleared his throat. “Julie and Frances went exploring on the old Gunther place at Angler’s Point. They checked out all of Brian’s favorite spots and found nothing, then they made a little side trip trying to get off the property and literally stumbled over this grave.”

“I’d like to come down, Chief, and see the site. Who’s handling the investigation?”

“I’ve called Lieutenant Smith with the Texas Rangers. He’s on his way down.”

“Good. Do you mind if I come down with him?”

“No, if he doesn’t mind, then I don’t. You’re welcome to come on down and see this.”

After I hung up with the chief, I virtually leaped out of bed. I started to run for the shower and then I decided I’d call Drew first, then Mike, but before I could call anyone, the phone rang again.

“Toni. Drew.”

“Tell me that you’re calling because you want me to come with you to Hempstead.”

“I am. Chief Grant already call you?”

“He did.”

“I want you to do the reconstruct on this one. If you want to ride with me, you’ll have to be ready in twenty minutes.”

“Come on by. Oh, could you call my son and let him know?”

“I’ve already done that, Toni.”

I loved the efficiency of Drew Smith. I hung up and ran for the shower. Another great thing about having short hair is the five-minute shower. I dried off, slapped on the bare minimum of makeup just so I wouldn’t scare small children or animals, combed my hair and put on my jeans, a brown cotton sweater and my brown snakeskin boots, grabbed a jacket and dashed outside to wait on the curb for Drew.

We talked about the case on the way down. Drew had beaten his head against a wall to try to get a warrant, but he had not been able to do so. The old coot who owned the property, Mr. Burkhardt, was apparently as mad as a wet hen, and wanted to press trespassing charges against Julie and Frances. The chief, with Drew’s instruction, had informed Mr. Burkhardt that trespassing or not, two citizens had reported finding a skeleton on his property, and that he could either cooperate or a warrant would be obtained and his property forcibly searched. The old man had relented. No trespassing charges would be pressed. Access to his property had been granted.

“I had no luck tracking the whereabouts of Doug Hughes, but I’d bet credits to navy beans those two women just found him,” Drew said.

“I agree, but we’ll need proof to back up that assumption.”

“That’s why you’re here,” Drew said and smiled.

“Chief Grant said this wasn’t exactly where the women were looking.”

“It wasn’t, which explains why nothing was found when they searched for Brian sixteen years ago. Apparently, Julie and Frances looked in all Brian’s old haunts and then decided to take what the chief referred to as ‘one of Brian’s alternate trails’ out of the property.”

“Good grief.”

“Yeah. Julie fell over the grave mound and when she fell, the heel of her hand dug into the soft mud and exposed part of an arm bone.”

“Yippee.”

“Oh yeah. Shocked her totally and it was all they could do to get out of there fast enough. Chief Grant said when they got to his office, they were both muddy and pretty messed up otherwise, too.”

“What they did was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.”

“Well, I think just a little of both, but I’m so grateful to both of ’em, I really don’t care.”

“Amen.”

Drew had talked to Mike and Tommy to let them know what was going on. They were coming down and would meet us there.

Chief Grant had given Drew precise instructions on how to get there. We arrived at the gate of a farm the chief had referred to as “the old Gunther place.” Apparently, the Gunther family had owned the land for years and all the locals referred to it that way, even though someone else had bought it and now lived there. Old Mr. Gunther had been a nice man, according to what the chief had told Drew. It was a large property and trespassers in his woods were common, but Mr. Gunther didn’t care, as long as they stayed out of his fields and didn’t damage anything or do anything illegal there. Mr. Burkhardt had a totally opposite opinion to Mr. Gunther. Regardless of his wishes, Julie and Frances had trespassed, and had found more than they bargained for, and exactly what we had hoped to find.