8:20 AM, Monday, August 25th, 2014
I was finally catching a break. The Columbus crime lab reported that the cell phone taken from Olivia’s residence held a recorded voicemail message from the Toyota service department on the Friday morning before her death telling her that her car was ready.
There were also texts originating from a phone registered to Nevil Harper Senior late Friday afternoon and again on Saturday morning asking her if she was coming for it. A final text message Saturday afternoon told her that he’d ‘bring the car by later’. It’s time to track down Nevil Jr.
I called the dealership and waited while they put me through to the service department.
“Service; Ted speaking.”
“Ted, this is Sheriff Crane. Are you the service manager?”
“Yes ma’am, how can I help you?”
“Is Nevil Harper Jr. at work today?”
“No ma’am, he called off sick.”
“He did?”
“Well, not exactly. I believe it was his mother that called for him ma’am.”
“I see. Is the A5 he was working on before still there by chance?”
“No ma’am Nevil delivered that on Friday during his lunch break.”
“How’d he get back to the shop?”
“Um, well, I dunno. I left for the day around the same time. I wasn’t here by the time he would have been back. Do you want me to ask around?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you for your help.”
“Is he in some kind of trouble? I mean, he’s a good kid and really good with the cars and the customers...”
“I’m just trying to get in touch with him. Again, thanks for your help.” I hung up, grabbed my hat and left for the Harper homestead.
The Harpers had a 140 acre spread or so in the next township over from the one Morelville was a part of. They weren’t wealthy but their land butted up against land owned by the Chappell’s and across from that owned by the Quinn’s, two of the richest families in the area. The Chappell’s made their money in dairy farming and race horses and the Quinn’s in oil. The Harper’s did neither. They scraped by raising corn for the ethanol producers and raising gardens and livestock for their own consumption.
I drove onto their hardscrabble farm in my county SUV. The homestead area was neat and tidy and free of most adornment other than a small patch of flowers already wilting in the morning heat. The place reminded me of an Amish spread, save the big motorized harvesting equipment parked nearby.
Mama Harper met me at the door, “Did Nevil call you and ask you to come out Sheriff?”
“Nevil?”
“Why, my husband.”
“No Mrs. Harper; he didn’t.”
“You’re not here about Junior. then?”
“I am here to see Nevil Jr. Is he here?”
“No,” she practically wailed. “He’s gone. He left for work on Saturday and he never came home.” Tears formed at the corners of her eyes.
“Have you spoken to him at all?”
She sniffled, “He called me early this morning and told me to call him off work, he’d explain the next time he saw me and then he hung up. He wouldn’t say when he was coming home. He got in an argument with his father last week and they weren’t speaking. Neither would tell me why. I don’t know what’s going on!”
Not being prepared to deal with her hysterics just yet and figuring he was probably on the run, I asked the most logical thing in my mind at the time, “Can I see his room ma’am?”
“His room? Why?”
“I need to get an idea of whether he left intentionally, like did he take clothes with him and other items.”
Her eyebrows snapped together and she snarled at me, “Junior wouldn’t just leave us for long Sheriff. He’s probably just waiting for his father to cool off. He’s a good boy!”
She flip flops like a seedy politician... “I just need to cover all the bases Mrs. Harper if you want me to find your son.”
Several beats passed as I waited but then her mouth softened just a little and she gave in, “Come this way.” She led me upstairs and opened a door at the front of a narrow hallway.
I peered into a fairly good sized room with two full beds.
“He shares this room with his brother Noah.”
The room was sparse and tidy like the areas I’d seen downstairs had been. “Which side is Junior’s?”
Mama Harper pointed to the left. “They share the closet over there though. It’s the only one.”
Opening the closet door, I came face to face with a packed tight row of plaid and flannel shirts and several pairs of blue jeans. Boots and a few pairs of other shoes littered the floor of the tiny space. If he took anything out of here, there’s no way to tell...
Stepping over to his dresser, I pulled open the shallow top drawer. There was a little stack of boxers and several pairs of mated socks. The next drawer down held tee shirts, all neatly folded. “He’s a very neat kid.”
Elizabeth Harper blushed, “He has a job. He doesn’t have time for all of that. I take care of it for him...for all my children. The others are busy here on the farm.”
“Where are your husband and the other children right now?”
“Nevil’s in the main barn working on something to do with the combine. He’s mad because that’s the stuff Junior usually does. I wouldn’t go bothering him right now. The other children had best be about their chores.”
Nevil Senior was standing at a wide, low work bench in the main barn right where his wife said he’d be. He was wrenching on what appeared to be some sort of gear box and cursing at it when I walked in.
“Mr. Harper?”
He didn’t turn to me but kept to his task.
“Mr. Harper, I need to talk to you.” I came up alongside of him. His eyes flitted to me and then back to the box.
“It’s important that I find your son.”
“I ain’t stopping you.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“How would I know that? I ain’t known what that boy was all about ever since he up and decided he wanted to be a mechanic and not a farmer. Don’t understand him at all.”
“When did you see him last?”
“Can’t you see I’m busy here? I’m having to do work he should be here doing. Why don’t you check with that whore he seems to think he’s in love with. He’s probably with her.”
“Who would that be Mr. Harper?”
He looked at me askance and then turned back to his work, “Name’s Olivia. Junior told me she’s pregnant. She told him it’s his. My boy didn’t go getting’ no damn woman that probably sleeps with everyone around with a dick pregnant.”
I tried to keep my cool with him but my temper was beginning to bubble over, “When did you talk to Junior about the baby Mr. Harper?”
“I don’t recall,” he spat. “Thursday? Friday, maybe. We had words. He insisted the baby is his. Don’t think he’s darkened my door since then. I’m sure he went straight to her. I need to get back to my work. Go talk to the woman that’s trying to pin this on him.”
“Mr. Harper, ‘the woman’, Olivia Stiers is dead.” I waited for his reaction but he didn’t even look up at me. “I have reason to believe that your son was the last person to be with her.” I waited.
This time he reacted, “Get the hell off of my property! Get out of here right now!”
2:35 PM Monday
I ran home and changed out of my uniform. Now I was sitting in my sister’s car a couple of blocks up from Priscilla’s apartment hoping to glimpse her coming strolling down the sidewalk the other way from her Monday classes. Please, let her have a Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule and no labs on Monday...
I’d had a late Saturday night text from Barb saying the female ‘bookie’ had been back working her sports book at The Boar’s Head. I needed answers and, so far, Priscilla had been the only one who knew anything.
Relief washed over me when I saw her walking towards her place. I got out of the car and paced myself to meet up with her before she could turn up her own walk. I wanted our meeting to look casual to anyone observing.
I came upon her just before she made the turn at her driveway. She peered at me through her dark sunglasses at first but then smiled and I smiled back.
“I recognize you. You’re Angie’s friend, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I finally got settled into the neighborhood...just out taking a walk, getting my bearings now.”
“It’s not a bad neighborhood. I recommend Stauff’s if you’re a coffee drinker. It’s right around the corner,” she tipped her head back over her shoulder. Holding up a bag, she said, “Good sandwiches too. Would you like to join me? They’re huge.”
“That’d be nice. Thank you!”
Once we were safely inside again, I grinned at her, “You improvise well young lady.”
“Thanks. Lots of training; I was in the drama club all through high school. It was sort of my outlet for...things.”
She looked me over as she took her late lunch out of the bag. “There really is plenty; would you like some?”
“No, but thank you. I ate. Honestly, I’m here to pick your brain again.”
“I’m not sure what else I can tell you that would possibly be of use to you.” We took seats at her little dining table and she began to eat.
“There’s been another death Priscilla; Olivia Stiers.” I watched for her reaction and was surprised to see that her expression seemed more puzzled than on guard or any other sort of thing.
“Who was she?”
“You didn’t know her?”
“Can’t say that I did. You said Stiers, right?”
I nodded.
“I’ve heard that name before but I don’t think I know anyone or of anyone in the family. I want to say I’ve seen it on the side of a truck or something.”
“You probably have. Olivia’s father owns Stiers Asphalt Paving, a big paving contractor in the area. They’ve been working out off of I-70 lately.” I watched her closely as I continued to question her, “Do you drive Priscilla?”
“Yes, of course. I’m allotted one of the two bays in the detached garage since I rent here. I just take the bus back and forth to school...saves on wear and tear and the student pass is cheaper than gas.”
“I see.”
“What does Olivia’s death have to do with JD’s?”
“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me. Olivia and JD were supposedly dating.”
“I’m sorry but, really, I’ve never even heard of her before just now.”
I rubbed my temples. “This case is so...so...I don’t even know how to describe it. I’ve got nothing to go on but a second death now and that may or may not be related.”
Angie seemed surprised by my little outburst.
Backpedaling, I apologized, “I’m sorry. I just don’t know where to go from here.”
“Did you find JD’s accomplice?”
I nodded, “Yeah, half dead himself. His name is Sterling Moon. He was beaten to a pulp by someone and then left for dead.” I scanned her face but it showed what appeared to be concern more than anything else. “He no sooner got out of the hospital than someone tried to kill him again in a drive by shooting.”
“That guy?” She was incredulous. “I saw that on the news. I’d never heard of a drive-by in Zanesville before.” Her reaction seemed truly genuine.
“So, I take it you don’t think his beating or the shooting were ordered by the bookie?”
“No,” she shook her head. “No, I don’t. JD owed a lot of money. The bookie still wants it back and he’d want to take it out of Sterling’s hide to get it since he was a part of the scam. JD’s beating may have been ordered but I don’t think this other one was and I’d be willing to lay odds myself that the drive-by wasn’t.”
###
Moon was still in ICU but he was awake and alert enough to talk to me.
“I want protection!”
“Mr. Moon, at this point, I don’t even know who or what we’d be protecting you from. I need a little help here.”
The bruised and battered man who’d nearly died twice lying before me in the bed still had a look of defiance on his face. I have to break him...
“They’re crazy and I need to get away from them!”
“Who’s crazy?”
“Whoever was after JD, that’s who! Now they’re after me!”
“Do you know them?”
“Hell no, I don’t know them!”
Despite the claim, I picked up on a slight hitch of hesitation in his voice. “Why did you leave the hospital?”
“Listen lady, I knew they’d come after me again. I wasn’t safe here. I had to get out of here then and I need to get out of here again.”
“You’re safe for the moment Mr. Moon. You’re on a locked ward here, now. Nobody gets in and out but specific medical staff members and me.”
“So you say!”
I ignored the barb, “Can you describe the vehicle that the shooter or shooters were driving?”
“SUV...all I know.”
“What color?”
He licked his tongue across his top teeth and raised his eyes to the ceiling as he thought about it. When he finally spoke, he sounded very unsure, “It was a weird color sort of tan but with that metallic kind of finish that makes it look like the color of a penny, only lighter...”
“Did you get any part of the license plate number?”
Moon shook his head no.
“How many people in the vehicle?”
“Least two. They was drivin’ by me and the passenger’s the one that shot me.”
“Did you get a good look at him?”
He was quiet for a long time.
“Mr. Moon, I really need to know if you got any sort of a look at him. Is there anything about him you recall or that you can identify?”
“I didn’t know him...least, I don’t think I did, but I can’t be sure. He had a ball cap on and sun glasses. I couldn’t really see his face.”
“Any logo on the ball cap that you remember?”
“No. Blue ball cap; that’s all I remember.”
“Could it have been one of the guys you were trying to hustle?”
“Never met them...had to be the bookie’s guys, like before.”
“You saw the men who beat you up last week?”
“I...um...don’t remember much about it. It all happened pretty fast. More than one guy; I remember that. Maybe three...”
That’s already more than you told me before... “You didn’t recognize any of them?”
“No.” His eyes darted about like he was waiting for someone to materialize from the walls of the room and condemn him.
He was lying and I knew he was. “Sterling, I can’t help you if you don’t help me.” I gave that just a second to register and then I asked again, “Could any of the men either time have been men you and JD hustled pool against?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible...never won that much...not worth all this,” he swept a hand up and down his body.
“You never won that much? Didn’t you tell me before that you and JD got a big score and that’s what got him into betting and borrowing money to bet, in the first place?” Moon paled and then averted his eyes away from me.
I have him now... “The two of you, or at least JD, played enough against the ‘high rollers’ as you called them, or won enough off of them to decide they were worth running a scam on. It didn’t work and so JD still owes the bookie money. Why would he have him killed? Since he’s dead, why would he want you dead too?”
Moon’s head shot back around to face me, his color rising again, “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying JD’s death may have been unintended. They may have been trying to scare him again but their plan failed. Since you were a part of the scam, it follows for me that the bookie would want you alive to atone for JD’s debt.”
“Ha, ha...how would he even know me?”
I glared back at him, “Really? Either JD fingered you when he was getting the beating of his life or your scam targets did.”
“So you think it’s the pool players who are after me?”
“You tell me!”
Moon’s eyes darted about the room again. He was so scared, I could see it in his face. He didn’t answer my question.
“Mr. Moon, someone wants you dead. If it’s not the bookie, then who? Who else would be after you? Did any of the men who attacked you or who shot at you look like any of the guys you played pool with?”
His whisper was barely audible, “Yes.”
“Okay. Good...good in the sense that that gives me something to work with. Now you listen to me, you’re safe as long as you stay right here. I’ll have men posted here around the clock. No one is getting on this ward or into this room that doesn’t get vetted by my department first. Okay?”
He nodded.
“I have a couple of more questions: One, do you have any of the men’s names that you were hustling in pool and betting?”
“Only first names.”
“Which were?”
“Um, well, one was Mick. He’s the easy one to remember.”
“Why is that?”
“He’s Irish...has an accent.”
“Any others?”
“Roger. My best friend growing up was Roger...why I remember it.”
“How many men were there?”
“Three.”
“What’s the third name?”
Moon blinked several times, “I just don’t remember.”
“And you feel pretty confident that at least one of those three assaulted you or shot at you?”
He nodded again.
“Which one?”
“Mick.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. One more thing: Do you know Olivia Stiers?”
“Who, Stiers?”
“Olivia Stiers, the woman JD was seeing? Your boss’s daughter?”
He didn’t bat an eye, “Didn’t know Mr. Stiers outside of the job and sure didn’t know his daughter.”
###
6:50 PM Monday, August 25th, 2014
Dana hung up the phone, grabbed her keys and left the house. As she walked to her own car, she glanced toward Mel’s County SUV, still parked in the driveway. Her brow creased in a look of worry.
The bookie told her she could meet Angel Eyes at The Boar’s Head and collect her payment after 7:00. Dana entered the bar just before then to find the woman already there. The owner who’d been watching the girl before didn’t seem to be around but the blue eyed runner had a bar customer sitting with her.
Dana took a seat at the bar and ordered a beer while she waited. When the man with the runner left, Dana slid into his chair before the other woman had time to even put her little notebook away.
Priscilla showed no emotion as she looked Dana over. When Dana didn’t speak, she asked, “Can I help you with something?”
Leaning toward her conspiratorially, Dana replied, “I just placed a bet and I was letting some winnings ride but the bookie said I needed to come and see you and...”
Priscilla waved her hands quickly in the air to stop the flow spewing from the other woman. “Shh! Shut up! Where the hell did they find you? Haven’t you ever done this be...” She stopped mid-sentence and peered at Dana closely, recognition lighting her eyes. Through gritted teeth she said, as she took out the notebook, “I’m going to pay you and then you need to get out of here and drop doing any sort of business with us in the future.”
Dana, dropping the ditzy act, asked, “And why is that?”
“I know who you are; your face has been all over the news around here. I know who you’re trying to help too. You need to drop it and walk away because you’re in way over your head.”
Priscilla noted something in her notebook and then slid an envelope across the table to Dana. “That’s all of it now beat it.”
“What are you going to do...little old you?”
“Are you a damn fool? I don’t work alone.”
Dana looked around at the nearly empty bar and shrugged, “Could’ve fooled me.” She picked up Priscilla’s pen and wrote a phone number on the edge of a beer coaster. “If you ever want to chat about anything, hit me up.”
I was in the parking lot leaning against Dana’s car in my street clothes paired with my ball hat and sunglasses disguise when she walked out of the bar. She did a double take when she saw me standing there.
“I saw your car here when I was coming back by. I know I’ve been putting in a lot of hours lately but I didn’t think it was enough to drive you to drink.”
Dana smiled weakly, “I was just trying to help you out, like you asked.”
“Oh?”
“Let’s go home. We need to talk.”
“So, let me get this straight, you’ve been hanging out in bars and making deals with the devil to try and help me crack these cases?”
“Not deals with the devil, just bets with a bookie. I’ve done okay at it too.” She waived a little wad of cash at me.
“Dana...baby...I’m not so sure that was a good idea. As I’ve gone along, I’ve gotten more and more information. Some of these guys you’ve been dealing with are some pretty dangerous men. You’re playing with fire going to Ray’s and messing with them.”
“I’m done with them and now that the runner’s made me – still can’t quite figure out how she knew I was doing anything but placing bets – I’m out of it altogether.”
“I um, uh may have had something to do with that.”
“She said she saw me on the news but...it’s just...I don’t know...”
“Dana your runner is someone that works with me as ‘Angie’. She’s one of my confidential informants.”
Dana slumped down in her chair, “But, she’s really a runner Mel and...”
I nodded, “Yes, she is. I know all about it; or I know a lot of it anyway. She’s a basically good kid who’s had a very rough life. I turn a blind eye to how she makes her living for now while she’s clawing her way through school and she tells me things I should know.”
“So then what’s this ‘Angie’s’ story?”
“I don’t know all of it, she’s quite a bit younger than me but the gist of it is that she’s Nevil Harper Senior’s illegitimate daughter with Angelica Chappell.”
Dana’s eyebrows shot up, “Nevil Sr. from the fair?”
“Yes. Angelica got pregnant with ‘Angie’, whose real name is Priscilla, when she was married to Stanley Chappell.”
Dana looked confused, “How old is Stanley Chappell?”
“I don’t know exactly. He’s up there in years. Why?”
“Is there another Stanley Chappell?”
“His son; they’re senior and junior. That’s pretty common around here.”
“I guess so! So, are they somehow related to Delores Chappell and crew from the case that originally brought me to this area?”
“Stanley Sr. is the son of one of the other Chappell’s. He’d be a cousin to Delores and Heath Jr. who were your perps. Stanly Sr. ran the family horse farm for several years but he’s mostly moved on to focusing family money from training racehorses on buying investment properties. He’s a Zanesville area slum lord...has rental houses in the name of the family trust everywhere. Heath Jr., before you nailed him, had actually taken over the management of the horse farm from him.”
“What about Stan Jr.? Where’s he fit in?”
“Stan Sr. is his father obviously, but he’s quite a bit older. I think Stan Jr. is only 19 or 20. He’s Priscilla’s half-brother since Stanley Sr. is not her father but Angelica is the mother to both of them.” I scanned Dana’s face, “You still look confused.”
“I am, a little. You had information I didn’t have and I think I have some you don’t have. I might be able to help you after all but it might cost you an informant.”
“You mean put her in danger?”
“Not exactly, no. When you hear what I know...er, at least, what I think I know, you’ll see what I mean.”
“What? What is it?”
“Mel, I’m pretty sure Stanley Jr. is the bookie in all of this mess.”
“What? No way. He’s maybe 20 years old Dana!”
“And how old is Priscilla?”
“She’s 22.”
“And she’s one of his runners Mel. I tracked another runner to his house in the Chappell enclave just northeast of here. She does a good bit of her collecting and her payouts a couple miles from his place off the same main road. That’s probably to make delivery at the end of the night easier. I’m telling you, he’s the guy.”
At first, I was dumbfounded but then I started to think a little about it and what Dana said made sense. The pieces were starting to fit.
“So who do you think is bankrolling him?”
“Who?”
“Stan Junior.”
“Himself, Dana. He’s a trust fund baby. It sounds like he’s playing fast and loose with an endless supply of money he has to burn curtesy of a long line of Chappells’ before him.”
“Where does Priscilla come in? How does he get his older sister to work as his runner?”
“Half-sister, and that I don’t know. There’s a lot of bad blood there. The way I’ve heard it told is that when Stan Sr. found out Priscilla wasn’t his, he threw her and her mother out. They left the area.”
“ I told you, Priscilla – Angie as I’ve known her for so long – had it tough. Her mother went from up here,” I waggled my hand over my head, “to way down here,” I said as I dropped the hand below my knees. “Angie got involved with a street gang and got into some serious shit. My understanding is that she contacted her brother somehow. He sent her a ticket to get her here and get her off drugs.”
“And they end up as bookies? Do you think that’s why he brought her here?”
“I can’t answer that. What I do know is that Junior’s business is likely as unknown to Stan Sr. as it was to me. Stan Junior doesn’t want for anything. It’s like he’s just playing at this because he can.”
“Okay, but what about Priscilla? Why is she doing it?”
“It’s probably his twisted way of taking care of his poor big sister.”