Lethal Lineage (16 page)
“Copeland County Sheriff Irwin Deal has agreed to this interview regarding the recent mysterious death of Episcopal priest, Mary Farnsworth,” the petite anchorwoman said. She looked into the camera and assumed her best relaying-a-tragedy look.
“Sheriff Deal, isn’t it true there are unexplained circumstances regarding this woman’s death?”
“Just unexplained to some people,” he said. His hard black eyes looked directly at the camera. He folded his arms across his chest in a stance he clearly thought conveyed power and authority. “Nothing mysterious about it. It’s unfortunate and of course this woman dying right after a church service was very upsetting, but things like this happen.”
The anchorwoman looked confused. “So you’re saying this was a natural death?”
“Well, no death is natural, I guess.” He looked proud, like he’d favored the viewers with a profound insight. “The public can rest assured that my office is in charge of the entire investigation and everything went through the proper channels.” He squared his shoulders, then hooked his thumbs in his belt, his fingers dangling like a nineteenth century gunslinger hoping for a chance to draw.
“Sir, it’s my understanding that the KBI is now involved.”
We have a large high resolution TV with excellent graphics. The three of us exchanged looks, then looked back at the screen as the coloring drained from Deal’s face.
“There are some aspects of this I can’t discuss,” he said sullenly.
I grabbed Keith’s hand. “He doesn’t know. He doesn’t have a clue.”
Deal straightened the brim of his hat and started to walk off, but she hurried after him. “Sheriff Deal, we have a few more questions.” He waved her away and hustled toward his car.
She turned back to the camera. “In fact, the district coroner, Dr. Joel Comstock, stated to Channel Seven earlier that this has become a homicide investigation. He also appealed to the public to contact his office if they have any knowledge as to the whereabouts of Reverend Mary Farnsworth’s family.”
The number appeared on the screen. “And now to our weatherman. What’s in store for us tomorrow, Paul?” With a cheery change of mood, she waved at a man standing in front of a map. “Well, no good news, I’m afraid, Shelia. In fact, there’s a cold front moving in and native Kansans know that can mean anything this time of year.”
Keith walked to the TV and turned it off. “So Deal doesn’t even know the KBI took over the investigation,” he said. “Which makes me wonder exactly what he’s been up to on his own.”
***
“I’m on duty today,” I announced to my husband two days later. I gave Keith a look, daring him to contradict me, which he didn’t. Besides, I out-ranked him. I breezed right out the door, knowing by now he’d come to accept the fact that I didn’t have the most dangerous job in the world, and certainly didn’t need his twenty-four hour a day protection.
I decided to drive by St. Helena on the way into town. When I topped the hill I recognized Talesbury’s Camry. Sheriff Deal’s Crown Victoria was parked beside it. The bright yellow crime scene tape left by the KBI was gone. My blood pounded and I tried to steady my breathing. I turned into the lot, then stormed inside. The scent of Clorox wafted over the church.
“What in the hell are you two doing here?” I yelled.
Talesbury came out of the anteroom carrying a bucket and a sponge.
“How did you two get in here? What the hell is going on? And how dare you interfere with a crime scene? Is that bleach?” I whirled around and faced Deal. “Is it? Are you destroying evidence?”
Deal walked toward me, his hands hovering over his pistols.
“I’m cleaning up my property,” Talesbury said.
“You are trespassing, lady,” Deal took another step toward me. “Get the fuck out of here. Now.”
“This is a crime scene. You have no right to be here.”
“Wanna bet? It’s his property.” He waved his thumb toward Talesbury who stood stiff and silent with a miserable expression on his face.
“Are you crazy? We’ve been down this road before. Are you going to arrest me again?”
“Not this time.” His smile was bitter. Creepy. “I’m just going to throw you out of here.”
He could easily manage that physically. And I certainly wasn’t going to shoot a man over a bucket of bleach. I edged toward the door. I wasn’t going to give him a chance to shoot me either.
“Oh, by the way, Agent Dimon gave us the key yesterday after Talesbury showed him the papers proving he owns this land. That put an end to everything.”
“You’ve been to Topeka?” I asked stupidly.
“You betcha, bitch. Do you think I don’t know when I’ve been set up? How much did you pay that reporter?”
His accusation was ludicrous. But Deal waggled the sole key to the anteroom before my eyes. “Dimon says hello and to tell you that this building is no longer a crime scene.”
Furious, I eyed the lone key. I should have made copies at the beginning. But there had been no reason to make extra keys because no other woman had shown the slightest bit of interest in maintaining St. Helena.
I walked toward the door, then stopped when he called after me.
“Oh, and Agent Dimon was surprised to know you weren’t in charge of the investigation. He had a lot of stuff wrong, but I set him straight.”
I walked back up the aisle and faced Talesbury. “Why in the world would this tiny little piece of land matter to you? Why would you want it?”
“Because it’s mine. My land. I know of lost children who need a place where they will be safe. A sanctuary. They require isolation and a chance to heal. Child soldiers, damaged souls.”
“That war was over twenty years ago. Those children are grown now.”
“There is always a war in Africa. With the same patterns. Innocent victims. Children with souls hollowed out. Mine is a sparrow ministry, Miss Albright.” His eyes shone. “I save the one, the few.”
Here? In Western Kansas? “
Who told you about this land?”
Deal stepped in front of him. “I saved it. You’re not the only one who can do research. Then I heard about your land grab. Thought you could fire up a bunch of do-gooders to steal it, didn’t you? My uncle was plumb grateful when I wrote him.”
“You’re a priest. You’ve taken vows.” I looked above Deal’s eyes at Talesbury. “You presumed to confirm my niece and hold a service in a church that wasn’t consecrated.”
“I didn’t know that at the time.” His eyes clouded. “I was misled.”
“Get off his property, bitch. Now.” Deal drew his gun.
I spun around and headed for my car. Why would Irwin suddenly start doing research on this piece of property? Who told Talesbury the church had been consecrated? Why did Deal care about any of this?
I was beginning to agree with Keith. The place had been nothing but trouble from the very beginning and I wished we had just set fire to it.
***
I drove on into town. Emerald rows of winter wheat lined both sides of the road, and clumps of Queen Anne’s lace were greening up although it would be summer before the lovely white flower tops dotted the country side.
I walked into the office and called Sam at once and told him about the encounter with Deal.
“They scrubbed down the entire anteroom. With bleach.”
“Well, I’ll be a son-of-a-bitch.”
“Deal claims the KBI released the church as a crime scene.”
“Call and double-check. That’s probably true. No reason not to if they’ve checked the place for poison.”
The technicians had been at St. Helena last week, but Sam and I had agreed to let the team work without our hanging around. We were rank amateurs and the office in Topeka had all the information we could give them. Which was precious little.
“Sam, I know Deal told the KBI a bunch of lies.”
“No doubt in my mind. But Deal was dead right about one thing. This is not our investigation.”
“It’s not his, either,” I snapped. “There’s no way he can claim Copeland County has jurisdiction there.”
“Now don’t get het up. All I meant was that it’s in the KBI’s hands now. In fact, Dimon called yesterday and apologized after he saw a video of Deal’s TV interview. After that, he viewed Deal and Talesbury’s jaunt to Topeka in a whole new light. But even so, he said Talesbury had the right papers to claim the key.”
“At least I have the satisfaction of knowing after that news interview he’s the laughing stock of the entire state of Kansas. I’ll bet he’s had his ears pinned back.”
“Dumb bastard.”
“Better him than us making fools of ourselves.”
“You mean we’re not?”
Brittle from lack of sleep, I assumed he meant me. Sam and Keith were still allies in their shared disgust over the YouTube tape. But I managed to keep my mouth shut.
“How’s the new deputy working out?” Sam asked.
So that was how it was going to go. Sam would mask his confusion and frustration by seeing how many of my buttons he could push.
I didn’t take the bait. “Best one we’ve ever had.”
***
I began preparing our report for the
Gateway Gazette
. Sam had issued a couple of speeding tickets. We often omit mention of domestic violence calls. I warned the citizens about burning off fields without notifying the fire department.
About ten o’clock I checked with Margaret and she was surprisingly pleasant. She was busy answering letters to persons who had written requesting information about their ancestors.
“Did any new stories come in?”
“Not a one. Which suits me just fine. Some of the letters are over ten days old.”
***
Stuart Mavery called on my cell an hour later.
“Morning, Lottie, Stuart here.”
“Hi, is Edna doing all right?”
“They are sending her home in a couple of hours.”
“Great. When I checked her in, the doctor said he thought it was a TIA, a little mini-stroke. Sort of a warning against a future larger one, and with this one all her symptoms would be temporary.”
“They were.” He paused. Something was off. The silence sounded strained. I wished I could see his eyes.
“Is everything all right, Stuart? Did you sleep OK at your mom’s house?” I didn’t want to say, “You sound funny,” but he did.
“Actually no.” He cleared his throat. “Lottie, did you know mom had once been in a mental institution?”
“Oh Stuart, no. I’m so terribly sorry. And you didn’t know this?”
“No. I didn’t. Did she ever mention it to you?”
“No.” She hadn’t, but guiltily, I thought about Edna’s account of her life in Iowa. Obviously she hadn’t told her son a thing about that time either. Although I was not under any oath of confidentiality, it was a matter of common sense not to relay secrets that weren’t mine to share. She had never told me a thing about mental health problems. Just that her husband was a bastard.
“Stuart, it’s not unusual that you didn’t know. Years ago, people simply didn’t discuss family problems. It wasn’t considered in good taste.”
“That may be, but you would think a mother would at least tell her only child that there are medical problems in her personal history.”
I closed my eyes. He certainly was not an only child either.
“Stuart, now may not be the best time with Edna just getting out of the hospital, but why don’t you plan on coming back in a week or so. If she’s stronger and getting along OK, you might like to ask her if there are issues that she might want you to know about.”
“All right. It’s going to take a couple more days for me to iron out some nursing details for home health care. She certainly can’t be alone at night.”
“No, and I have a feeling she’s going to hate that. But there are several ladies who make their living as care-takers for the elderly. Call social services and see if they can give you some names.” My suggestion had been automatic before I remembered that the director of our multi-county social services department had been murdered.
“Wait a minute. I’ll give you some names.” I scanned down the service ads in the
Gateway Gazette
and recognized one that Edna might be comfortable with.
“I don’t mind telling you, I don’t know anyone less crazy than my mother. I mean no one. She’s about as down to earth as they come.”
“I agree.”
After I hung up the phone, I realized I had meant every word. Edna was evasive and had her petty little subterfuges to conceal expenditures from her first husband, but her life was centered around the farm and every day things. Her tapes might have jumped around, but nearly all oral histories do. They are full of digressions and back-tracking.
She was understandably upset over a murder that had taken place practically right under her nose, but who wouldn’t be? And I suspected most younger persons wouldn’t be able recall the details of a person kneeling next to them.
I agreed with Stuart. Mental illness just didn’t seem to fit.
After he hung up, I walked to the front door and stepped outside for a moment. I needed a jacket. The cold front the weatherman had predicted was on the way. There was a vacant lot between the hardware store and the run-down wreck of what had once been a lumber yard. Weeds grew out of old tires thrown there among the decaying brown stalks of last year’s vegetation.
The grass between the sidewalk that fronted the jail and the curb was still brown. The whole main street seemed to be painted in melancholy shades. Deeply unhappy over my encounter with Deal, I knew I had to call Bishop Rice and see if Talesbury’s claim was complete. Done Deal? Deal done? I wished.
I was put on hold. When Rice came on his anger was evident in his crisp, sharp voice. He began talking before I could state the purpose of my call.
“I am taking into account, Miss Albright, that no one out there seemed to know a thing about church processes, but this has been unbelievably muddled from the get-go. Just today, I learned I’ll need to consult an attorney about this glebe. And this Diocese can barely afford to furnish coffee filters for my office. We cannot afford legal fees.”
“I know that, sir.”
“Our only hope is that’s there’s some flaw in passing down this piece of land or that the original Glebe was sold.”
I sighed, knowing how tangled things had become when he first checked out the four corner land. “I would like to know if Talesbury has the legal right to claim our church building.”
“Oh brother,” he said. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“I hadn’t either, until today.” Then I told him about Talesbury and Deal being there.
He said nothing.
“Talesbury told me it was going to be a home for children.”
The Bishop made the leap immediately. “Refugee children. Of course. I could not imagine why he would want a piece of property out in the middle of nowhere.”
“I couldn’t either, but I’m checking out the possibility of oil or archeological finds or some money angle anyway. Just to be sure the refugee angle isn’t a front for something else.”
“From what you’ve said, Sheriff Deal doesn’t seem like the humanitarian type.”
“That’s an understatement.” I closed my eyes to shut out the quick image of Deal’s florid face. “The KBI has taken over the murder investigation, that’s no longer the task of either Carlton or Copeland County. Thank heavens the other two counties St. Helena includes have chosen to stay out of this mess.”
“All right. Please continue checking out the money angle, I’ll call a lawyer and check on the ownership of the building itself if the glebe is valid.”
“As you know, sir, I work out of the courthouse. I have easy access to county records. I’ll start with mineral rights on surrounding land. It won’t take long. But I’m quite sure we won’t find anything.”
“We need to be sure.” He cleared his throat. “Please accept what I’m going to say as speculation. Just first thoughts, OK? Nothing official.”
“I understand.”
“If Talesbury’s claim to the glebe holds, there’s not a single thing this Diocese can do about it. Not one thing. Glebes are granted to individuals. They are not owned by the church.”
He had already explained that, and if I didn’t understand before, I certainly did after extensive research.
“Then as far as the law is concerned, you simply built a structure on land you didn’t own. The church is his also.”
***
Luckily no one crossed my path the remainder of the day. I caught up chores, thought, cleaned with a vengeance, thought, typed file labels, thought, and finally settled on sorting thumbtacks.
There was no way in hell that I could explain to a throng of earnest women who had busted their butts raising money that St. Helena had been confiscated by a rank stranger. I didn’t care how deep Talesbury’s roots were in this county, he was not a native Kansan, and he didn’t have a clue about life out here.
Where would he find staff? The church was too tiny to hold many children, and the land around was utterly treeless. The whole venture was ludicrous. African children out here? With no wildlife, no vegetation? The man was out of his mind. Images of the lonely schoolhouses I’d seen in the 1800s crossed my mind. Those kids had survived. But they’d had homes to return to in the evening.
Then against my will, I kept thinking of all the children I’d see on TV lately. Haitian waifs with extended stomachs and flies over their sickly bodies. Other regions where little babies lay listless in their ruined mother’s arms.
I tried to put myself in Talesbury’s place and think like a man who had been through the horrors of the Tutsi/Hutu wars. Mass slaughter, children raped, animals burned alive. Of course they would be better off here, with good food and decent medical care. I thought about Talesbury’s expression this morning.
The burning eyes of a fanatic bent on doing good.
***
The next morning Keith helped Josie carry her suitcases to the driveway.
“All set. Finally.” She’d found three registered voters to carry the recall petition. “I’m outta here. And so’s my dog. Aren’t you, girl? Ready to go home?”
Tosca leaped into Keith’s arms and licked his face. He laughed and handed her to me. “Can’t stand loose little dogs,” he said. “She’ll take up with anyone.” Tosca then obligingly licked me from forehead to chin. Social duties completed, she ran back and forth from the house to the passenger side of the car and barked. She knew the drill.
Josie laughed, then gave me a hug. She pushed me to arm’s length and looked into my eyes. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, hear?”
I nodded. She hugged Keith. “Take good care of her,” she said. She strapped in Tosca, then went and around and settled into the driver’s seat. She powered down the window for a final farewell. “I’ll be back. As soon as Harold schedules the hearing to fry Deal. Shouldn’t take too long.”
She left. The house seemed empty when we went inside.
I coveted her dog.
