Disillusioned, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 2

  Chapter 11

   

  The next morning Commissioner Barnes withdrew as the Republican candidate for state representative. Within minutes of the withdrawal, Stan got a call from Dick Stuart, Chairman of the State Republican Executive Committee. He wanted to give Stan notice of an emergency meeting of the Committee he had called for the following day and to be sure Stan was going to be there.

  “We need you to explain what the hell is going on. Barnes was very secretive about his reasons for withdrawing, and he said I should ask you about it.”

  “Right. Okay, I’ll have to cut a couple classes, but I guess this is more important.”

  “Why don’t you bring Kristina Tenison with you? There are some people who would like to meet her.”

  “Sure, that’s a good idea. She knows the district better than anyone.”

  Stan hung up and immediately called Kristina to pass on the invitation.

  “Barnes said you forced him to withdraw,” Kristina said. “Is that true?”

  “No. The Executive Committee just recommended it. It was his call.”

  Stan explained the situation to her without getting in to any great detail. “I don’t want to compromise his case by being very specific.”

  “This is getting ridiculous,” Kristina said. “Has this ever happened before—having to replace two candidates in one year?”

  “I haven’t researched it, but I kind of doubt it.”

  “So, what time are you going to pick me up tomorrow?”

  “Six o’clock. It’s a three-and-a-half-hour drive to Austin, and going that early, I’ll need a coffee stop along the way.”

  “Great. I better go to bed early tonight.”

  “Good idea,” Stan said. “See you bright and early.”

  Stan hung up and took a deep breath. He wondered who they could possibly find to run at this late date. As he was contemplating this, the phone rang. It was Don Karnes.

  “Hey, have you checked your mail yet today?”

  Stan looked at his watch. “No. Our mailman usually comes about noon.”

  “Well, I ran across an article that might interest you, and I made a copy and dropped it in the mail.”

  Stan wondered what he was talking about and then remembered the banking records he’d requested. He couldn’t wait to see what he’d found.

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “So, are you going to Austin tomorrow?”

  “Right. They want me to bring Kristina too. I guess whoever they pick won’t have time to be organizing a campaign. They’ll just adopt Kristina’s plan and move forward.”

  “Makes sense. The election is only six weeks off.”

  Stan talked a few more minutes with Don and then hung up. He looked at his watch and saw it was eleven thirty. While he was waiting for the mailman, he called Officer Jenkins.

  “Hey, you got any new info for me?” Stan asked.

  “A few items,” Jenkins replied.

  “Good. I may have something big here in a minute. I need to update you on a couple other items as well. Why don’t you drop by for lunch?”

  “Alright. I’ll see you at twelve thirty.”

  “Good. See you then.”

  Stan went into the kitchen where Rebekah was working on lunch. “Hey, you got enough for a guest? I invited Lynn over.”

  Rebekah turned and nodded. “Sure. Does he like peanut butter and jelly? That’s what we’re having.”

  Stan laughed. “He’s a cop. He’ll eat anything if it’s free. Any donuts left over from breakfast?”

  “No. Reggie ate the last of them.”

  “Hmm. Too bad.”

  Stan walked over to Rebekah and put his arms around her. Nothing felt better than being in Rebekah’s arms, he thought. He bent down and kissed her.

  “We don’t have time for a quickie, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said when their lips parted.

  “You read my mind.”

  “Forget about it. I’ve got peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to make,” she said, pushing him away.

  “Oh, alright. I’m going to check and see if the mail came.”

  As Stan walked out the front door, the mailman was driving up. He said “hi” to the mailman and when he pulled away took the mail out of the box. The big manila envelope from the First National Bank sat prominently on top of the pile. He stuck the rest of the mail under his arm and opened the envelope. Inside was the bank statement for Silver Springs Ventures, Ltd. There were three red checkmarks next to three entries dated within three days of the Shepard massacre. The withdrawals were for $7,500, $8,500, and $9,000 for a total of $25,000.00. On three separate sheets were copies of the withdrawal slips showing that Carlos Morales had signed for each withdrawal.

  When Jenkins showed up, Stan showed him the bank statement.

  “Interesting,” Jenkins said. “I wonder who got the $25,000.”

  “I don’t think it was Todd Watson. He paid me a visit today.”

  “Oh, really? How did that go?”

  “He was really pissed off and was going to beat the crap out of me had Agent Rutledge not showed up.”

  Stan described the altercation and told Jenkins about the evidence he’d turned over to the FBI.

  “Well, if it wasn’t Todd Watson, it must have been someone who worked for Carlos Morales and the cartel.”

  “Or,” Stan added, “a contract assassin. The way the massacre was set up, I’m inclined to think it was a professional job.”

  “Or a team of assassins,” Jenkins replied. “It would almost take two killers to handle six victims and make it look like a murder-suicide.”

  “I hadn’t thought about that, but you may be right. I’ll check with the FBI and see if I can find out who Carlos Morales uses for muscle. I figure they owe me a favor or two.”

  “Oh, I’ve got something for you,” Jenkins said.

  “What’s that.”

  “We found the necklace Cindy Shepard was wearing the night of the President’s reception.”

  “Where did you find it?”

  “At A+ Pawn Shop. One of our informants spotted it on display and recognized it from a description we’d given the press.”

  “Did they have a record of who brought it in?”

  “Yes, but the name and address and personal information turned out to be bogus.”

  “Great. Did the owner of the pawn shop give you a description?”

  “Only that it was a woman in her thirties, brown hair, darkly tanned, a little overweight.”

  “I doubt the killer is a woman,” Stan said, “so the real killer must have paid her to fence the necklace. How much did the pawn broker pay for it?”

  “He said $5,000, but it was worth $25,000 apparently,” Jenkins said. “The pawn broker said he’d have given her $10,000, but she wasn’t very good at bartering.”

  “Hmm. That doesn’t fit. A professional would have held out for more money.”

  “You would think so.”

  Stan and Jenkins talked a while longer, and then Rebekah told them lunch was ready. Stan wondered if they were getting peanut butter and jelly sandwiches but was relieved to see a stack of hamburger patties, buns, and condiments on the kitchen table.

  “Oh, those smell good,” Jenkins said as he picked up a plate.

  “I got a beer in the fridge if you want it,” Stan said.

  “No. I’m on duty. A Coke or iced tea would be fine.”

  Rebekah poured a glass of iced tea and handed it to him. Reggie and Mark walked in, went directly to the table, and sat down. Rebekah fixed them each a plate and got them something to drink.

  “Where’s Peter?” Rebekah asked.

  “He’s hiding in his room,” Reggie said.

  Rebekah frowned. “Why is he hiding?”

  “Mark told him a policeman was here to haul him off to jail for stealing his dump truck.”

  Stan rolled his eyes. Officer Jenkins laughed.

  Rebekah shook her head in disgust. “Mark
! Get up there and tell Peter you were joking.”

  Mark scrambled to his feet and ran out of the kitchen. A few minutes later, Peter walked in and looked around warily. When he saw Officer Jenkins, he stiffened.

  “Peter, this if Officer Jenkins,” Stan said “You’ve met him before. He’s a friend.”

  “Oh,” Peter said as he walked slowly to the table.

  Rebekah stifled a laugh. “Sit down. I’ll get you a hamburger.”

  After Jenkins left, Stan sat down to study for his oil and gas class, but he was having trouble concentrating. He kept thinking about the woman who’d pawned Cindy Shepard’s necklace. He wondered if perhaps someone other than the killer had stolen it. Who else would have had the opportunity to do it?

  Since he couldn’t study, he decided to go visit some of the neighbors who’d been at the crime scene shortly after the murders. The first one he visited was John Rogers, the neighbor directly south of the Shepard house. John Rogers was a tall, stout, partially-bald man in his late fifties. Stan introduced himself.

  “You knew Rob Shepard pretty well. Do you think he could have killed Maureen Peters and the Shepard family?”

  “If you’d have asked me that before it happened, I would have said no.”

  “But now you think he might have?” Stan asked.

  “I don’t know. The evidence seems to suggest it.”

  “I understand you discovered the body?”

  “Yes. I was watching the Johnny Carson Show, and it had just ended, so I was about to go to bed. That’s when I heard the gunshots.”

  “How many did you hear?”

  “The first one just startled me. I thought maybe it was a backfire or kids shooting off a firecracker. But when I heard a second and a third, I got up and went outside to investigate. After I was outside, I heard a fourth shot, and I could tell it came from the Shepard house, so I ran over there.”

  “What did you find?”

  “The front door was ajar, so I ran inside and saw Maureen on the floor.”

  “Did you hear anymore shots?”

  “Yes, two more. One right away and a second about twenty seconds later.”

  “Did you go upstairs?”

  “No. I was busy trying to get Maureen to breathe.”

  “Who was next on the scene?”

  “My wife Molly came in right after me. She screamed seeing Maureen in a pool of blood. I told her to calm down and go call the police, so she went into the kitchen to call, but the phone had been ripped out of the wall. Before I knew it she was running up the stairs to use the bedroom phone. I yelled after her not to go up there, but I guess she didn’t hear me.”

  “Did she tell you what happened upstairs?”

  “Yes. She found Rob’s and Cindy’s bodies in the hall, but they were both already dead, so she went around them carefully and into the bedroom to use the telephone but it had been disabled as well. When she came back downstairs, I sent her home to make the call.”

  “Who was next on the scene?” Stan asked.

  “A couple policemen. I don’t know their names.”

  “Before the police showed up, did you see anyone else there besides your wife?”

  “No.”

  “Did you hear any strange voices?”

  “No.”

  “Had you seen any strange cars in the neighborhood?”

  “Not that I recall.”

  “Had you heard the Shepards when they drove into their driveway earlier?”

  “No, but I saw headlight beams coming through the side window, so I knew they were home.”

  “Did you happen to look out the window after that?”

  “No. I was tired, so I didn’t move.”

  “Had you seen the Shepards when they left for the evening?”

  “No. I hadn’t gotten home from work yet.”

  “Okay. Well, that’s all I can think of right now.”

  The front door opened, and Molly Rogers walked in. Stan smiled and stood up. She was a middle-aged brunette, darkly tanned, and wearing a black dress under a tweed coat with black gloves.

  “Well, that was good timing,” Mr. Rogers said. “You remember Stan Turner.”

  Mrs. Rogers didn’t smile. In fact, she looked upset.

  “Stan would like to ask you a few questions, honey.”

  Mrs. Rogers forced a smile. “What about?”

  “Just what you remember the night of the killings.”

  “I’ve already told the police everything I know.”

  “He knows that. He doesn’t think Rob killed anybody, and I think he may be right. I’ve told you all along it didn’t make any sense.

  “But he did kill them. I don’t know why you can’t accept that. You saw the crime scene. Did you see anyone else there?”

  “No,” Mr. Rogers admitted.

  “Then leave it alone,” Molly said, turning to Stan. “You should quit playing detective too. You’re just prolonging the agony of this tragedy and giving people false hope.”

  Stan and Tom just stared at Molly as she slowly climbed the stairs and didn’t look back.

  “I’m sorry, Stan. This whole thing has been very traumatic for Molly. She hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since it happened.”

  Stan nodded. “I understand. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

  “I’ll talk to Molly. If she feels like talking later, I’ll call you.”

  Stan thanked Tom and left. As he walked back to his car, he thought back to the description of the woman who’d pawned Cindy’s necklace. The description fit Molly Rogers, and he thought she’d acted very strangely. Stan wondered if she was trying to hide something.

  As he got in his car, he looked at the Shepard house, which stood quiet and dark. The crime scene tape was still across the door, but Stan suddenly felt an urge to go inside and look around. Having been Rob’s best friend, he knew where the Shepard’s kept a spare key to the back door, so he went around the back of the house, retrieved the key, and slipped in the back door.

  What he wanted to check out was how hard it would be for someone to sneak out of an upstairs window and climb down to the ground. Reggie had confessed to him that he and Paul Shepard had done it one time and that Paul did it all the time. Stan climbed the stairs, being careful not to disturb any of the markings the police crime scene crew had left behind. When he got to Paul’s room, he slowly opened the door and was startled when he heard a screech.

  The Shepards’ cat rushed past Stan, nearly giving him a heart attack. Stan stopped and breathed deeply, trying to let his heart rate slow. Then he eased over to the window and inspected it. He noticed it was locked but could easily be unlocked from the inside, so he unlocked it and slid it open. There was no screen, which seemed odd to Stan unless Paul had taken it off the window to make it easier to get in and out. Slipping over to Paul’s closet, he peered inside. Sure enough, the screen was tucked in between two long coats.

  Stan returned to the window, slid it open, and peered out. Directly under the window were shingles that covered the first-story roof. Stan could see it would be quite easy to climb out the window, drop to the roof, crawl over to one of the drains, and climb to the ground. Feeling satisfied with what he’d discovered, Stan closed the window and left Paul’s bedroom. After looking around for another ten minutes, he slipped out the backdoor and went home.

  Rebekah was cooking dinner when Stan walked in. “Something smells good,” he said.

  “Oh, you’re back. Good. I made spaghetti and meatballs.”

  “Mmm. That sounds good.”

  “So, did you find out anything?”

  “Yes. Reggie was right. It is easy to climb out of Paul’s window and down to the ground.”

  “You think the killer might have done that?”

  “Killer or killers. I’m starting to think there was more than one of them.”

  “Did the crime scene crew dust for prints in Paul’s room?” Rebekah asked.

  “I don’t know. We’ll have to ask Lynn abo
ut that. If they did, they may have the killer’s prints.”

  “Unless they wore gloves, which I imagine they did.”

  “True.”

  “I talked to Tom Rogers, and as I was leaving Molly came home. I wanted to talk to her, but she refused and was rather nasty about it.”

  “Really? That’s odd.”

  “I thought so. Molly actually fits the description of the woman who pawned Cindy’s necklace.”

  Rebekah frowned. “You think Molly stole the necklace?”

  “She could have. She went upstairs before anyone else. Maybe she thought Cindy didn’t need it anymore.”

  Rebekah shook her head. “She’d just witnessed a murder. The last thing she’d be thinking about was Cindy’s necklace.”

  “True. I guess it could have simply been a robbery gone bad—the thieves thinking it would be an easy heist with just a babysitter and three kids at home, but then Rob and Cindy coming home at the wrong time.”

  “Maybe, but why wouldn’t they wait until nobody was home? Burglars usually don’t try to steal from an occupied house.”

  “I don’t know. Let’s eat. I’m famished, and I’ve got to study my oil and gas or I’ll be in trouble if I get called on in class.”

  “You have to go to bed early tonight,” Rebekah reminded Stan.

  “True. I wish I didn’t have to go. I hate to skip class. I can’t afford to get behind.”

  After dinner, Stan studied for a couple hours, laid out everything he’d need the next morning, and then went to bed. He was a night person, so getting up at five in the morning was extremely unpleasant. Rebekah offered to get up and fix him breakfast, but he told her he’d get some donuts on the way to Kristina’s house for them to eat on the road. Rebekah didn’t like the fact that Stan would be spending all day with Kristina, but she hadn’t said anything because she knew it wasn’t something Stan had planned and, that early in the morning, Stan needed someone with him to keep him awake.

  When the alarm went off, Stan shut if off quickly, not wanting to wake Rebekah up. He got up, dressed quickly, and soon was on his way. After stopping at Dunkin’ Donuts, getting a half-dozen donuts and two cups of coffee, he pulled up in front of Kristina’s house. She was waiting at the front door and came out immediately.

  It was still dark, as Dallas was still on Daylight Savings Time for another few weeks. Stan took Kristina’s coat and briefcase and opened the door for her. She was wearing a short red knit dress and matching high heels. He inhaled a hint of perfume as she stepped by him and sat down in the passenger seat. His heart rate quickened as he glanced at her shapely legs. As he closed her door, he felt a slight adrenaline buzz just being near her. After putting her things in the back seat, he climbed in the driver’s seat and smiled at her.

  “I brought donuts,” Stan said as he started the car and they took off.

  “Good. I didn’t get up early enough to eat. I was up late last night working on the campaign.”

  “Really? It’s kind of hard to work on a campaign when you don’t know who the candidate is, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, but they are going to expect me to dazzle them with a game plan, so I thought I’d better prepare something.”

  Stan smiled. “That’s my girl—always on top of things.”

  “Who do you think they’ll pick to run?” Kristina asked.

  “Isn’t that obvious?”

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “They’re going ask me again, and if I refuse, they’re going to ask you.”

  “Me! What are you talking about?”

  “I recommended you last time, so they know you’d do it, right?”

  “I suppose.”

  “I’m sure the general consensus is that whoever they pick is going to lose, so I doubt they have many potential candidates. If they nominate a woman, it looks good for the party, even if you don’t win.”

  “You don’t think I could win?” Kristina asked.

  “They don’t think you can win, but I think you could.”

  Kristina laughed. “How do you figure I could win?”

  “In spite of what they think, whoever they nominate is likely to win.”

  “How do you know that?” Kristina questioned.

  “Let’s just say I’ve got inside information.”

  “Really? Hmm. So, why don’t you run if it’s a sure thing?” Kristina asked.

  “I’m tempted, but my disastrous military record would no doubt come up and I’d be on the defensive from day one. I couldn’t put Rebekah through that again. You, on the other hand, don’t have any skeletons in your closet, do you.”

  “No.”

  “And, if you do lose it won’t destroy your political future because you weren’t expected to win and showed great courage in even running.”

  “Well, I’m not as optimistic as you are about getting elected, no matter what inside information you have.”

  “Good. That’s the attitude you need to have to win. You can’t take anything for granted, but in case you haven’t noticed, the county has a Republican majority now.”

  “Yes, but Ron Wells has been in office a long time. He’ll get some Republican votes.”

  “Not if I do my job.”

  “You mean your job as County Chairman?”

  “No, I mean my job as your campaign manager. That is, if you want to hire me.”

  Kristina felt so happy tears welled in her eyes. “Are you serious?”

  “I don’t know if you can afford my price though.”

  “Really? What’s your price?”

  “You’ve got to promise me you’ll keep your independence and not sell out to any special interest groups the moment you get to Austin.”

  “I’ve already made that promise to myself, so that’s not a problem.”

  “Good. Then it’s settled.”

  When they got to the meeting, Kristina was amazed at how Stan had accurately predicted the committee’s actions. They first tried to convince Stan to run, and when he refused, they started discussing how it might not be a bad idea to appoint a female candidate. Stan agreed and suggested they nominate Kristina since she was well liked in the district and had a campaign organization already set up. They debated Stan’s suggestion for a while, but some of the members were still reluctant to appoint a woman until Stan announced he’d be Kristina’s campaign manager and knew how to make sure she would win.

   “But how can you make sure she will win?” Dick Stuart asked skeptically.

  “I’ve discovered that the incumbent has a serious vulnerability. All I have to do is figure out how to exploit it.”

  “What vulnerability?”

  “I’m not a liberty to say right now, but it’s enough to totally discredit him in the eyes of the public.”

  “Well, even without an ace up your sleeve, I like Kristina’s positive attitude and courage in wanting to take on this most difficult challenge, so I place in nomination Kristina Tenison to be the Republican candidate to replace Commissioner Barnes in the state representative race.”

  There was a second, a vote was taken, and the vote for Kristina was unanimous. After the meeting was over, there was a press conference and then a lavish luncheon to kick off the campaign. Late in the afternoon, Stan and Kristina said their goodbyes and left for home. As they drove along I35 they were both happy and full of anticipation. Kristina couldn’t thank Stan enough for what he had done and would be doing for her as her campaign manager. Stan sensed he could have stopped at a motel and Kristina would have willingly given herself to him.

  Although Stan wanted to stop, somehow he managed to keep driving past motel after motel until he noticed he needed gas. They were coming up to Hillsboro, so he exited the freeway and drove into a gas station.

  “Are you hungry? There’s a Chili’s up the road a few blocks.”

  “Yes. I’m famished. That would be great.”

  Stan filled up the tank and then drove them to the restaurant. They passed two more motel
s along the way and Kristina gave them both a hard look but Stan managed to keep his eyes on the road.

  “Here we are,” he said as they drove into the parking lot.

  They got out and went inside. A hostess seated them and took their drink orders. Kristina looked longingly at Stan but finally sighed picked up a menu.

  “So, you really think I can beat Ron Wells?” she asked.

  Stan nodded, and they began planning in earnest Kristina’s campaign for state representative.

  When Stan got home, Rebekah was glad to see him. She hated when Stan traveled, as she always imagined the worst. After Stan had filled her in on the day’s events, they went to bed and made love. Stan was more passionate than usual, and Rebekah wondered why that was but didn’t complain. She felt happy and secure when he was passionate, and her only fear was that his passion would some day fade or be directed to another woman.