Charlie stuck a key in his front door. The afternoon on the links at Boonsboro Country Club in Lynchburg had exhausted him, but he’d needed it. He hadn’t realized how stressed he’d become, and the golf outing with his retired buddies had relieved much of the pressure he’d been feeling. How could he have let himself get so tense? Maybe it was time to retire, to leave his legacy of justice to someone younger. He wondered how he would cope with a lot of time on his hands. If Annie were still alive, they could travel, take some of the trips to Europe they had planned. Before cancer claimed her, they’d had forty-nine good years together, but now all he had left were memories. Lord, he missed her.
Playing the front nine, enjoying a chili dog slathered with mustard and coleslaw, and then attacking the back nine had recharged him When he left his friends in the club parking lot, he’d promised them he would consider retirement.
He pushed open the door and heard the answering machine’s beep. Five messages appeared. He groaned. All he wanted was to settle down in his brown leather recliner with a martini, maybe two. Later he’d fix a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of the delicious healthy-but-ugly lentil and spinach soup his widow neighbor brought over yesterday. He pushed “Play.” The voice of a sweet young thing stated that the maintenance warranty on his dishwasher would soon run out and now would be the perfect time to renew. He erased it and listened to someone, probably a telemarketer, hang up. The third and fourth messages were equally unimportant. Maybe he’d get to his martinis after all.
But then he heard message number five.
Aurora’s no-nonsense voice wiped out all thoughts of a relaxing drink. He dialed her number. “Come on Aurora, answer the phone!” he said aloud. He slammed down the receiver when the answering machine picked up. Aurora’s message to him had said to check her computer if he hadn’t heard from her by noon tomorrow, but he wasn’t a patient man. She was in trouble. He called the lake police, told them to meet him at 210 Spawning Run Road, and sped toward the lake.
The drive took him fifty-one minutes. Investigators Conner and Johnson were waiting on the front porch when he arrived.
“You two check out the house while I turn on the computer,” he said as he unlocked the front door.
“What are we looking for?” Johnson asked.
“Anything unusual or suspicious. You’re the cops; I’m just a judge. Use your instincts.”
Aurora’s computer was slow to boot up. Judge Anderson went to C-drive, then typed in “crosstitch.” Across the screen flashed “You have used an invalid password.” Exasperated, he retyped it. The identical message reappeared. Several more attempts produced the same results. Pushing himself back from the computer, the judge closed his eyes and pressed his fingertips against his temples.
Irritated at the interruption when the doorbell rang, he shouted, “Someone get the damn door!” Seconds later, Conner and Johnson ushered Luke Stancill into the room.
“Look who just happened to stop by,” said Conner. “Says he was fishin’ for stripers near Spawning Run. Looked like a storm was brewin’, and he figured Aurora and Sam would shelter him for a while.”
The judge confronted Luke. “Really? Can you prove it?”
“Of course not. What’s going on? Where are Aurora and Sam?” asked Luke.
“Why don’t you tell me?” countered the judge. “No, tell Conner. I’m busy.”
Luke peered over Judge Anderson’s shoulder as another “You have used an invalid password” flashed across the screen.
The judge growled.
Luke read the password the judge had scribbled on a piece of paper next to the computer. “Are you typing two s’s or three?”
“Two.”
“Why don’t you try typing three? Make it ‘crossstitch’.”
The judge scowled at Luke, but followed his suggestion. Words from Aurora flashed on the screen.
Uncle Charlie, today (Saturday) I received a phone call ordering me to go to Cabin 171E in the State Park with certain pictures, negatives, and a necklace I found if I wanted to see Sam alive. The caller said not to call the police and to come alone. I’ll explain later, but I located some Polaroid pictures Dad had hidden. I’m pretty sure the men in the pictures murdered Dad. I assume this house is being watched, so since I can’t go have copies made, I have scanned the pictures into the computer. After I drop off the photos and necklace, I’m to go to Hales Restaurant and wait for further instructions. Before the phone call came, I videotaped two men in Spawning Run. I think they were in the boat that tried to ram Luke and me. That tape is in my cross-stitch bag in my bedroom. If I don’t return, please take care of King. He’s in the dog pen outside. The dog food’s beside the laundry tub in the basement. I feed him twice a day. I love you, Aurora. P.S. King needs snuggle hugs every day.
Charlie’s watch read 6:45 p.m.; Aurora had called at 3:00. “Conner and Johnson, let’s go!” he bellowed. “We’ll take both cars. King will ride with me.”
“Won’t the dog just be in the way?” asked Johnson.
The judge scowled at him. “On the contrary. King and Aurora have something special between them, something you and I don’t understand. Believe me, King will help us find my niece.” As he hurried outside to get King, he uttered a prayer for his niece’s safety.
“What about him?” asked Sergeant Johnson, pointing to Luke.
“I’ll come with you,” offered Luke.
“No you won’t,” the judge hollered over his shoulder. “We’ll catch up with you later. Don’t leave the lake area.” The three men left Luke standing on the porch.
Luke hurried down to the water and looked up at the sky. He knew a bad storm was imminent. He’d always had a sixth sense about weather, and he’d learned to listen to it. Should he look for Aurora and Sam? He looked up at the security of the big house on the hill. He could wait on the covered porch until the storm subsided. He shrugged, turned and boarded his small fishing boat. He hit the throttle and headed out into the lake.
“Stay, King.” The judge turned off the car ignition. Conner and Johnson pulled up beside him, and they all advanced on Cabin 171E. The deputies drew their guns and pushed open the unlocked door.
Conner entered the cabin first. “Looks empty to me. We’ll have a look-see, though.”
The cabin was neat and free of dust. No shoe prints showed on the vinyl floor. The empty refrigerator shone, as did the oven. Neither the two bedrooms nor the bathroom yielded any clues. The place was immaculate.
“Call the station and get forensics in here,” Conner ordered Johnson. “Find out if there’s been a recent rental. If so, get a name, address and phone number.”
Charlie returned to his Lincoln, snapped the leash onto King’s collar and let him out. “Find Aurora, King.” The dog whined, sniffed the ground, and dragged Charlie up to the cabin door, then turned and backtracked to where Aurora had parked her car hours earlier. Charlie saw tire prints in the dirt.
“She’s been here,” the judge said. “I won’t take King inside; don’t want to destroy any potential evidence. King and I will drive on over to Hales Restaurant and check it out. I’ll call if I find anything.” After putting King in the car, Judge Anderson drove away.
“Do you believe him? Looks to me like he thinks he’s still a cop,” said Johnson.
“Cut him some slack, man. His niece is in trouble.”