PROJECT: Q-29

Chapter II

 “Oh my!” says Suzie jumping up from her task.  Her eyes pop open, as if she has just been caught snooping through someone’s desk. “I’ve got  to get that, and now!”

 Suzie is a sweet gal in her mid twenty’s and full of life.  The type of girl who doesn’t really get much done at the office, but she’s just so nice and kind and tries to be helpful, that you just can’t let her go.  Everybody likes Suzie.  Everyone always has a kind word about her.  The mere mention of her name brings a smile to the face of all who ever met her.  With a soft smooth complexion and big beautiful eyes, she can soften the heart of even the wildest beast.  If she was as devoted to any man as much as she is devoted to her pastries, she would never have any time to herself.  Her normally bubbly voice turns to nervousness as she frantically tries to wipe the cookie dough from her hands to answer the radio.

 “I’m coming!  I’m coming!  Oh!  Hang on I’m coming!” she shouts to the radio, as she stumbles across the room.

 “Suzie, get your hands out of the batter and answer me.  This is important.  And Suzie, you know I can’t hear you.”  Marshall, like most everyone, knows Suzie well.

 “OH!  I’m sorry sheriff.  I was just in the middle of making your favorite chocolate peanut butter cookies.  What’s the problem?”

 “Mmmmm.” he says smacking his lips.  “Can’t wait!  Hey Suzie, I need you to run a check on this plate for me.  We’ve got a strange situation on our hands.  I think we may have a really warped individual out here.  It’s still too soon to tell, but I  already don’t like what I  see.”

 “Sure thing Marshall,” she says licking her fingers and grabbing a pencil, what’s the number?”

 “Baker 5 Charlie 4 7 9”

 “Baker 5 Charlie 4 7 9. Got it.  Is that a Tennessee plate?” asks Suzie.

 “Sorry darlin’, yeah it is.  It’s from Lawrence county.  Oh and Suzie, wipe your hands CLEAN this time before you use the computer.  Thank you darlin’.   Rich, you out there?”

 Morris Richard Laverton, deputy.  He is  Marshall’s progeny and next in line to become sheriff of Wayne County. Richard, or Rich as he prefers to be called, has followed in Marshall’s footsteps, though not to the degree in which Marshall followed “Gypsy  Bob’s.” Richard stands at 6’2” with brown-blonde hair and a thick mustache that is always neatly groomed and never hangs over his upper lip.  A thinking man by any right, but also a man of action.  Having moved in from Chicago, he enjoyed being able to help people and the community without having to have his life on the line as fiercely as it was when he was with the Chicago force.  After being  grazed by bullets, twice while on duty and three times when off, he decided to move his wife and three kids to greener pastures.  His crystal blue eyes have finally begun to pale the scar of the bullet which almost took his life.  Part of his eyebrow still missing, never to grow back.

 “I’m here.”

 “I want you to come over here to the Supermarket and check something out.  I’ve got a really bad feeling about what I see here, and I want your help.”

 “Whatcha got?”

 “Well nothing concrete yet.  I’ll talk to ya when you get here, and bring that slim-jim of yours with ya too.  I wanna get inside a car here.”

 “10-4 sheriff, I’ll be there in around fifteen minutes.
 
Marshall starts with the mandatory paper work, looking up occasionally in thought, only to return to the clipboard to fill in more spaces.  From the corner of his eye he is able to see Mike sneaking out of the store towards his car, which was conveniently parked in the closest space to the front door.

 “What’s the purpose of...” he thinks out loud, contemplating what he saw through the car’s windshield.  Shaking his head and biting his pen, he returns his thoughts to the paperwork in front of him.  His silence is interrupted.

 “Sheriff, this is Suzie.  Do you read me?”  Her voice more concerned than usual.
 
Around here the typical crimes are usually shop-lifting, domestic quarrels, friends getting drunk and out of hand - the usual small town stuff  “stereo types” are made of.  Suzie didn’t like what she had to tell the sheriff.

 “Go ahead Suzie.”  Marshall pauses for a brief moment.  “You awright?”  He notices the uneasiness in her voice.

 “I’ll be okay.  I didn’t mean to be so obvious.” says Suzie, as she tries to gain her composure and recreate that “Professional” police dispatcher air about her.  “I got a make on that plate.”

 “Okay Darlin, catch your breath and tell me whacha found.”  Marshall says in as soothing a voice as he could.  Marshall is beginning to feel the concern of his first instincts.  He was sure there was a murder on his hands, and from what he has seen so far, it was not going to stop after this one.

 “The car belongs to Carey Warjill.  The car has not been reported as stolen nor missing.  I called Carey’s house.  His wife, Anastasia, answered.  She was very worried.  She had called the police to report her husband missing.  She said he had been missing for three days.  He left to go visit some friends and was supposed to be back in four to five hours.  When he didn’t come home that night, she figured him and his buddies got drunk and fell down somewhere and that he would be back the next day.  He has not called, nor come home, and that is not like him, according to Carey’s wife.  Sheriff, do you think...”

 Suzie could no longer speak.  She has been dispatching here for three years now and has never had to deal with anything like this.

 “Calm down Suzie.  We don’t have enough evidence to think anything yet.” is the sheriff’s reply.  “Hey, he might be just lost in the woods and probably still drunk.”

 “Okay sheriff.  I’ve got Anastasia’s phone number if you need it.  I’ll be right here if you need me.  Thank you for trying.”  Suzie knows what Marshall is thinking. Though he was trying to comfort her, he is not a good liar.  She knows he is thinking the worst.

 A look of deep concern falls over Marshall’s face mixed with a look of pity and sadness for Carey’s widow.  He new in his gut that Carey was gone.  Now it was just a matter of finding the body and the killer.

 “Suzie, get me somebody from the lab.  I want this car checked inside and out.  Finger prints, hair samples, the works.”

 “10-4 Sheriff.” is the only reply back over the radio.  Suzie is scared.

 Rich pulls into the lot and sees Mike, the store’s manager, walking back towards the store.  Mike is wearing a fresh change of cloths.  Rich’s car angles upward as he comes in the steep driveway.

 “Excuse me!” yells Rich, “Where in the parking lot is Sheriff Marshall?”  The lot had filled up with shoppers and the other police vehicle was not easily seen.

 “Yeah I’ll tell you where he is, he’s down five isles near the middle of the isle.  I want that car outta there, it’s in a good spot ya know.”  Mike banters on, “You know what that crazy sheriff did?  I’ll tell you what he did, he threatened to shoot me.  He said he was going to shoot me dead.  He’s crazy you know.  I think he should be locked up.”

 “Oh come now Mike, I think you must have misunderstood him.”

 “Misunderstood nothing!  He pointed that gun right at my head!” Mike blurts in excitedly, “I don’t think I mistanded, stooded, misunderstood...I…I didn’t misunderstand him!!!  He threatened me!!!”

 “Let me assure you Mike.  You must have misunderstood him.  You see, Marshall isn’t that type of person...”

“Yes he did, he threatened me.” Mike interrupts.
 
“No, no.  You misunderstood.  Marshall doesn’t make threats.  At least, not idle, threats.”  Rich says calmly as he releases the brake and drives slowly away, leaving Mike standing there with his hands on his knees and that same expression on his face as when Marshall had pulled the gun.

 Reaching Marshall, Rich gets out of his car and gets the slim-jim. Walking over to Marshall and handing him the tool, Rich says with a smile and a slight laugh, “You really pull your gun on Mike?”

 “Oh come on Rich.  Would I do something like that?” retorts Marshall with the boyish grin of a teenager who was trying to get away with something.

 “To anyone else, no.” he says with a slight laugh.  “I wouldn’t be surprised if you cocked the hammer back and fired a shot passed his ears.” smirks Rich with a note of jealousy in his voice.  “I heard Suzie.  Do you think we’ll be looking for a body, or...”  Rich stops abruptly.  He remembers all the bodies he had to deal with back in Chicago.  He definitely is not looking forward to finding another one.  “Maybe he really is lost in the woods.  If he got drunk enough, him and his buddies could be out there somewhere still.”  Rich is trying to convince himself.  He wanted to leave this type of police work behind.  That’s why he came out here. “My God!” he was thinking, “Did it follow  me here?”

 “Sorry Rich.  I believe we definitely have a murder here.” says Marshall as he pops open the Corvette’s lock.  “I don’t like the looks of this.”

 Rich moves to the front window to get a look inside.  “I don’t see anything unusual in there.”
 

 “W-P-X-C-1-O-3 point 3 your only place for all your favorite....”
 

 “The radio?” asks Rich with a puzzled, disturbed look on his face.

 Unlocking the other door, Marshall tells Richard to take a look inside.  Stooping down Rich could see what Marshall had been eluding to, or so he thought.  The ignition key is still on.  The car was never turned off.  It had run out of gas.

 “I didn’t notice the ignition switch from the front window.  How did you see it?” questions Rich.

 “I didn’t.  But that only convinces me more.”

 “Then what did you see? Everything looks normal.  I do agree that something is awry, but a lot of people leave the car running and dash into the store.  Especially if they’re just going in for a six pack or something.”

 “Usually.” says Marshall calmly and in a very concerned voice.  “But when you run into the store and leave your car on, you usually put the car into park and you usually don’t take the time to refasten your seat belts.”

 Richard’s eyes flare then grow bitter then angry.  He starts to slightly bite his lower lip.

 “I imagine who ever we’re dealing with thinks they’re pretty smart.  It’s as if they’re mocking us.  Taunting us to try to find them.” states Marshall.

 “This is only the first instance.” says Rich.  “We can’t be sure this is going to continue.”

 “You know better than that.  How many times have you seen a missing body, in a situation like this and it ended up being the only one?”

 “Howdy Marshall.” says the sweet voice of Elaine, one of the cashiers. “What?  Another car parked here?  I see Mike finally called you guys to check it out.”

 Rich and Marshall look at each other than back at Elaine.

 “I told him after the third one that this was kind of weird and to call ya’ll.  It seems that only a certain elite few are allowed to park here without something happening to their car, and it gettin’ towed.”

 Elaine can hardly contain herself while talking to Marshall.  Soft brown eyes all lit up.  Eyelashes batting feverishly.  It is easy to see, and she does make it obvious, she is very sweet on Marshall.

 “Certain elite few?” questions Rich.

 “I do believe I was talking to Mister Winston young man.” Elaine replies.  Elaine has the most beautiful, soft, and fake southern accent this town had ever heard.   “Isn’t that right Marshall?”

 “Certain elite few, Elaine?  What are you talking about?”

“Well I’m sure I could tell you everything, but you see these packages are just weighing me down, and with the sun and all, well, you know. If you’d like, I’m sure I could whip us up something for dinner and we could discuss it then.  Give me a call and tell me what you decide.  I’m in the book you know.” she says as she turns with her packages which contain all of a loaf of bread, some toilet paper and some paper towels.  She is very careful to drop her receipt as she leaves.

 “The sun?” quips Rich, giving Marshall a coy, yet inquisitive look.

 It has been unusually cool all day.  The sun has been coming in and out of the clouds all morning though never staying out long enough to heat things up.

 “Never mind her.  I think we need to talk to Mike.”

 “Let me.  He’s too afraid of you right now.  You’d probably make him so nervous he’d conveniently forget all the details.”
 
“Yeah.  You go ahead.” Marshall agrees.
 
 

 “Don’t give up on us baby...” faintly comes over the Corvette’s radio.
 
 

 “Hey, great song.  I haven’t heard this one in years!” exclaims Rich.

 “Yes it is, but...” Marshall looks a little puzzled.  “I figured that battery would have been worn down by now.  Must be a strong battery.”