“Don’t scratch my table with that rusty old box,” Linda said as she handed Leon a glass of milk.
“I put some papers under it. Don’t worry.” Linda was picky about her kitchen. In fact, she worked hard to keep every room of their small house neat and tidy. It was attractive—yet comfortable. Being inside Fred’s house made him even more appreciative of Linda’s efforts. He couldn’t imagine living with that kind of mess. The memory made him shiver.
She tousled his hair. “Thanks. How about some cookies with that milk?”
“Your oatmeal cookies without raisins? You bet.”
“You could just call them oatmeal cookies, you know. You don’t need to always mention that they don’t have raisins.”
He winked at her. “I know, but I like to call them that because you take the time to make them the way I like them.”
She shook her head. “Maybe I like them that way, too.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You have a very high opinion of yourself, don’t you?” she teased.
“You bet. By the way, did you get a chance to talk to someone at the church?”
Linda nodded. “We’ve got food going to Fred tonight. We’ll assess his other needs once we get inside his house. Probably could use some paper products, toiletries. You said the place needs a good cleaning?”
“Big time. And maybe a new couch.”
Linda giggled as she put some cookies on a plate and brought them to the table. She gestured toward the metal box sitting in front of her husband. “So that’s the box you got from Fred?”
Leon nodded. “Probably nothing important here.” He sighed deeply. “Something’s bothering me about this case. It’s like that old TV we used to have. Remember how fuzzy the picture got sometimes? I’d fiddle around with it until it got clearer. Well, this case is just like that. It’s fuzzy. I’m trying to find a way to make it clearer so I can understand it.”
Linda sat down across from him. “So what’s fuzzy about it?”
“That’s just it. I’m not completely sure, but for one thing, no one seems to think it’s odd that Ann was buried on top of Dorothy Fisher.”
“I’m sure they investigated that.”
“You’re right. They did. Couldn’t find a connection.”
Linda frowned thoughtfully. “But you think there is one?”
“I do.”
“Can you tell me why?”
Leon stared at his wife. He started to respond to her question, but the words suddenly caught in his throat. They’d been married a long time, but to him, she grew more beautiful every day. Her strawberry-blond hair was streaked with gray, but it just softened her lovely features. Her smile could still make his heart skip a beat. They’d been through a lot over the years, but Linda was a rock. Her strength constantly inspired him. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his train of thought. “I’m not sure, but . . . why that grave? It was in the middle of the cemetery. I mean, if it was just a convenient body dump, why not pick a grave closer to the edge of the property? Where you wouldn’t be seen? And why take a chance that someone would notice the site had been disturbed? That tells me the killer picked that spot for a reason. I just want to know why.”
“And what does that have to do with Darrell Fisher?”
“I don’t know, but I’m gonna go through his belongings and see if anything speaks to me.” He grunted. “I might be wasting my time, but it’s mine to waste, I guess.”
“Speaking of time, have you told the department you’re retiring?”
“Uh . . . not yet. I will. Quit badgering me.”
Linda leaned over and caught his eye. “I’m not badgering you, and you know it. Retire. Don’t retire. It’s your choice. But make a decision and stick with it.”
“I will, but right now I’d like to concentrate on this box, okay?”
“If this is evidence, should you have brought it home?”
“It isn’t evidence yet. Not until I find something that will help solve this case.” He smirked at her. “Is that okay with you, Chief?”
“Yes, dear. I’ll leave you to it.”
She got up to leave, but Leon grabbed her hand as she walked by. “I’ll tell them. I will.” He pulled her down and kissed her. “You’re still my girl, right?”
She smiled and gazed into his eyes. “Always.”
When she left the room, Leon thanked God one more time for putting him and Linda together. If he ever felt the need to question God’s love for him, all he had to do was remind himself that God had given him Linda, a precious gift he would never take for granted.
He picked up a cookie and took a bite. Best cookies in the world. A few more bites and several swallows of ice-cold milk, and he was ready to dive into Darrell’s box.
One by one, he lifted things out. First he put the two yearbooks to the side. Then he removed baseball cards, none of them valuable, some old pens, two small notebooks, and a couple of Valentine’s Day cards. There were also some random papers. School assignments. They’d all earned high marks, but nothing on them meant anything to Leon.
He’d stacked everything in neat piles and was going to close the box when something rattled at the bottom. Leon put his hand in and pulled out an old cassette tape. It was black and hadn’t shown up against the dark-colored bottom of the box. There was nothing written on it, no way to tell what was recorded on it. Leon put that in a different place. He and Linda used to have a tape player, but he hadn’t seen it in a long time. Hopefully, they still had it and Linda knew where it was.
He opened the yearbook with Darrell’s picture. After looking at it again, he glanced through the pictures of the other kids in his class. Nothing stood out. Then he checked out the inside covers of the book. When Leon was in high school, his friends would sign his yearbook and he would sign theirs. Darrell only had three comments. Apparently he wasn’t a very popular kid. Someone named Janice had written Have a great summer! and a boy named Phil had scrawled Be good, Dude. Leon looked up the Janices and Phils in Darrell’s class and wrote down their complete names. There were two Janices and three Phillips. The third comment was the most interesting. It read Can’t wait to get out of this crappy school and start having some fun. Our future awaits! It was signed Stinky. Could this be Darrell’s friend? He picked up the yearbook from Holcomb. This had more signatures. The owner was fairly popular, but it seemed his fans probably weren’t first in their class. The spelling and grammar were atrocious. Many of the comments were directed to someone named Barney, but a few were written to Stinky.
Leon took a small notebook out of his pocket and picked up his cell phone. He looked up Fred Fisher’s number. After quite a few rings, Fred picked up.
“Fred, this is Sergeant Leon Shook,” he said. “I’m sorry to bother you, but could Darrell’s friend’s nickname be Stinky?”
After a moment of silence, Fred said, “Yeah, that was it. I remember now. But it wasn’t because the boy smelled bad. He used to set off stink bombs in school. Darrell wouldn’t do it because he didn’t like gettin’ attention from people. But he sure thought Stinky was cool for doin’ that kinda stuff. Bad influence, like I said.”
“Okay. Thanks for your help, Fred. I appreciate it.”
“Look, Sergeant, can you tell me why you’re so interested in my nephew?”
“Wouldn’t do any good, Fred. I’m just shootin’ at the sky, hopin’ to hit something. You know, tryin’ to figure out why Ann’s body was buried with your sister. Might not mean anything at all. Might have just been a handy place to put her.”
Fred was quiet so long Leon thought he’d hung up. “You still there, Fred?”
“Yeah. Look, Sarge, I don’t know exactly what you’re thinkin’, but Darrell . . . Well, he was a cold-hearted kid. I mean, like somethin’ wasn’t plugged in all the way when it came to feelin’ things for other people. Just thought you should know that.”
“Thanks. I appreciate your honesty.”
“Got a call from some local church. They’re bringin’ me some food and stuff later today. Was that your doin’?”
“Ah, I might have mentioned to my wife, Linda, that you might not be feelin’ real good. Of course, she took it upon herself to start meddlin’. You know women. Sorry about that. I’d appreciate it if you’d just put up with her and not hurt her feelings. If you think you can, that is.”
“I . . . I suppose I can allow it. Don’t usually let people mess in my business, but I’ll do it for you, Sarge.”
“Well, thanks, Fred. I can’t tell you how much that means to me. I love that woman. Even if she is a busybody.”
Another silence. “I had a wife once. I understand. I’d do anything for her, too. Thanks, Sarge.”
Leon grunted a good-bye and hung up.
Linda came back into the kitchen and put her arms around her husband. “So I’m a busybody, am I?”
“Yes, ma’am. The worst kind. I only keep you around because no one else should have to put up with you.”
Linda kissed him on the top of the head. “Same to you, you old goat.”
“By the way, do you have any idea where our old tape player is? You know, the one we used when we listened to those old Bible-teaching tapes?”
“Sure I do. Unlike you, I know where things are.”
Leon grinned at her. “I don’t need to know where things are. That’s why I have you.”
“Very funny. I’ll get it.”
While Linda was looking for the tape player, Leon scanned the Holcomb yearbook. The names of everyone mentioned in the book were listed in the back. He wondered if Tammy Rice’s son was pictured, but he couldn’t remember his name right off the bat. His last name was different from Tammy’s. He found two Barneys. One taught shop and the other was a student. He turned to the page with the picture of Barney the student. Barney’s last name was Clevenger. As he ran his finger down the row of pictures and settled on the right one, he got an odd feeling that he’d seen the kid before. Close-set eyes. Big ears. A mouth that seemed crooked somehow. No matter how hard he tried, though, he couldn’t place him. Probably looked like some kid his son had gone to school with.
“Here it is,” Linda said, coming back into the room. She dusted off the player, plugged it into a nearby outlet, and handed it to Leon.
“Thanks,” he said. He popped the tape in and pressed the play button. When the song started, at first he didn’t recognize it. Then it got to the chorus. She has a heart as cold as ice. Frozen kisses that take my breath away. Blue-Eyed Angel who sees into my soul and somehow makes me whole.
Linda gasped and Leon turned back to the picture in the yearbook. Now he recalled that face. He’d seen a report about him at the office. Barney Clevenger was Malcolm Bodine. The Blue-Eyed Killer.