Chapter 13
“Poor Uncle Otis. The old guy probably wandered into the graveyard drunk as a skunk, tripped, and banged his head on the tombstone and died,” Danny said, shaking his head while standing with Hayley behind yellow police tape that had been tied around two adjacent gravestones.
Danny fancied himself an armchair detective after spending years in front of the TV drinking beer and watching CSI and Law & Order reruns.
Hayley found it annoying because he was just not very good at solving the crime despite his overinflated ego. She remembered when they were first married they would watch a Murder, She Wrote episode on cable and Danny would spend the whole hour guessing every suspect questioned, and then after the delightful Angela Lansbury would unmask the killer and motive in the final segment, Danny would nod in agreement and proclaim, “See! I told you!”
Hayley would just wring her hands and keep her mouth shut in order to avoid an argument. But it took every ounce of strength not to blurt out, “You have no idea what you’re talking about!”
Danny also appeared unimpressed with Hayley’s recent history of investigating and solving local crimes with a striking success rate. Or if he was impressed and just not showing it, he probably figured he was the one who taught her everything she knew.
Hayley was shoved aside by a crowd of gawkers mixed with a few local reporters, who all jostled into position to get the best look at the crime scene. She elbowed one aggressive photographer sharply in the ribs who tried pushing her out of the way before realizing he freelanced for the Island Times.
Bar Harbor Police Chief Sergio and two of his officers, Donnie and Earl, carefully combed the blocked-off area for evidence while a forensics team examined the body and snapped pictures in order to make the determination as to just what happened to poor old Otis Pearson. Hayley scanned the scene and noticed a trail through the mud leading from the gravel path to the tombstone.
“Danny, look at that over there. There’s a path through the mud but no footprints. It looks like something was dragged off the beaten path over to that row of tombstones where Otis was found. If someone dragged a body through the mud, the body would likely erase any sign of footprints.”
“What are you trying to say, Hayley?” Danny asked, barely paying her any mind as he watched the forensics team in action. “Man, why didn’t I become a CSI guy? I would’ve been so good at it.”
“I’m saying maybe someone killed Otis somewhere else and drove him here in a car, and then dragged his body over there and left it to confuse the police.”
“That’s ridiculous, babe. Why do you automatically assume Otis was murdered? You need to stop reading so many mystery novels. Otis was a klutz and a drunk. He fell and hit his head. End of story.”
Sergio wandered over to Hayley and Danny, and the obnoxious pushy photographer leaned into Hayley in order to eavesdrop on the conversation. Hayley gave him another quick jab in the ribs, and with a grunt, he moved out of her personal space.
“What’s the story so far, Sergio?” Hayley asked, keeping her voice down.
“Severe trauma to the head. He definitely died from his injury. At least that’s the preliminary assessment,” Sergio whispered, not wanting the crowd to overhear him sharing details of an open investigation with his sister-in-law.
But of course, given Hayley’s history in town, most of the crowd already assumed that was exactly what he was doing.
Danny chuckled with a self-satisfied smile. “You’ve got to learn to trust me, babe. Like I’ve been saying, he fell and hit his head on the gravestone.”
“Don’t gloat, Danny. It makes your smile crooked and it’s really unattractive,” Hayley said.
“I don’t believe he fell here. I think whatever gave him the head injury happened somewhere else,” Sergio said, instantly wiping the smile off Danny’s face.
“What do you mean?” Danny sputtered.
“The way the body is positioned doesn’t line up with him tripping and hitting his head on the flintstone.”
“The Flintstones? What’s he talking about, Hayley? Why is he talking about a cartoon? I’m confused,” Danny said, turning to Hayley.
She rested a hand on his arm. “He means tombstone.”
“Why didn’t he say that?” Danny asked, turning back to Sergio.
“I did,” Sergio seethed.
“I’m sorry to second-guess you, Sergio, but couldn’t Otis have fallen over there? Maybe he was still alive and tried crawling for help and just died in that position,” Danny said confidently, determined to defend his original theory.
“The mud trail that leads over to his body suggests someone dragged him from the gravel path and there are plenty of tire tracks to support the theory he was driven here,” Sergio said. “No, he was brought here from somewhere else.”
Officer Earl sauntered over to Sergio, rubbing his hands together and then wiping them on his pants. “You got a handkerchief or a moist wipe or something I can have to clean off my hands, Chief?”
“What the hell did you touch, Earl?” Sergio asked.
“I wanted a smoke but dropped my lighter and it fell right between the dead guy’s feet and I had to move his boot to get to it—”
“You touched the body?” Sergio yelled, eyes blazing.
“Well, no . . . I . . . I mean . . . just the boot . . . I just had to get my lighter . . .”
“Have you learned nothing since you’ve been with the department, Earl? You never touch anything until forensics has completed their investigation. Congratulations! You’ve just compromised an active crime scene!”
“Man, when you put it like that, it sounds kind of bad,” Earl said softly, regretting ever admitting anything to the chief.
“So what’s on your hands, Earl?” Hayley asked, noticing a green sticky goo on the tips of his fingers.
“I don’t know. It was on the soles of Otis’s boots. It’s like glue and I can’t get it off,” Earl said, annoyed, keeping one eye on Sergio to gauge his anger.
“Well, go over and have forensics take a sample before you wash it off, do you think you can do that for me, Earl?” Sergio sighed.
“Yes, sir,” Earl said before scampering off like a scolded child.
“I’ve got to get back to it. I’ll see you later,” Sergio said before marching back over to the dead body.
Danny watched Sergio standing over the still body of his uncle Otis a few minutes and then his eyes welled up with tears. “I can’t believe he’s gone, Hayley. He was my favorite uncle. We were drinking his moonshine and swapping stories just the other night and now he’s gone . . . forever . . .”
Danny reached out for a comforting hug from Hayley.
She hesitated, not sure she was ready to open herself up to a tender moment with her ex-husband. Danny was a terrific actor and so there was a question of whether or not his emotions at this moment were genuine. But she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and put her arms around him and held him close.
The Island Times freelance photographer took the opportunity to snap a few shots of Otis’s grieving nephew. When Danny heard the flashes going off, he began wailing and putting on a good show.
Sergio noticed the commotion and made a beeline back over to them. “One thing I forgot to mention, Danny.”
Danny raised his head off Hayley’s shoulder but kept his arms firmly fastened around her as he sniffed. “What’s that, Sergio?”
“Don’t go far. I need you to stick around until we conclude our investigation.”
Danny nodded, hugged Hayley tighter, and then said, “Of course, Chief. I wouldn’t dream of going anywhere until we get to the truth about what happened to poor Uncle Otis.”
“Good,” Sergio said, before turning around and walking away again.
Danny was saying the right words, but Hayley could tell he was rattled.
He shifted nervously and kept clearing his throat.
She knew all his mannerisms from years of experience.
Danny Powell was in full-on panic mode.
And usually when that happened it wasn’t long before he would disappear.