Read Baptist DISTINCTIVE: An Adam Mykonos Mystery (The Adam Myknonos Mystries) Online
Authors: Thomas Gillen
Five minutes later I pulled my car in
behind Welter and in front of another deputy’s set of wheels. They hit their sirens
and we cruised from Clear Spring to the Marsh Pike in record time.
After half a decade I still have a hard
time figuring out who has jurisdiction in and round Hagerstown. My confusion
was not helped by the fact that two Hagerstown City Patrol Cars, a Maryland
State Trooper and a Washington County Sheriff’s Van were waiting along with an
ambulance from the City of Hagerstown when we pulled up.
As I parked I dialed Luke and filled him
in.
I yelled to Welter as we got out of the
cars
“Pastor Blaine wants to know if you want
him to go over to Kitty Prihor’s.”
“Tell him to drive over but wait for my
deputy to get there before going in.”
I relayed the message to Luke as Jake spoke
to the Deputy who had been in the car behind me.
“We sure this is Dennis?” I asked as we
approached the crime scene.
A tall Black Cop from the Hagerstown City
Police force answered my question. “Yep. ID in his pocket and I knew him from
High School.” He smiled grimly “And who are you by the way?”
Welter stepped over. “Adam Mykonos, meet
Bill Shank.
Adam is …..”
Shank cut him off “Fairly well known, his
wife owns the Lighthouse. Best Jerk Chicken this side of Kingston.”
I grinned “As my wife will be the first to
tell you.”
“You know the vic?” Shank asked.
“Yep. Darn Shame.” I said.
“Darn murder.” Stated Shank
Welter’s eyebrows went up. “Hit and run
right?”
“To the extent that he was hit and whoever
did it ran away” Shank replied then added. “But, come here look at this.”
Shank lead us over to the side of the road.
He pointed to thread marks in the dirt near the edge of the asphalt.
“See these, the skid actually starts out
there on the road. The driver veered in to edge, and hit Prihor the first time
right about here” He pointed about three feet in front of us.
“The first time?” Welter asked.
Shank nodded got up and walked a few feet
over. He bent down again and pointed. “See here you can see the tire marks
again. I have no solid proof yet, but I will bet that forensics will tell us
they were going in reverse.” He stepped back a step and pointed down into the
dirt. “See this”
I looked down at small indent in the dirt
and then looked next to it and a longer clearer one.
Welter shook his head “Palm print and knee
and leg. He was trying to get up?”
Shank nodded “The way I figure it he got
hit a few yards back, may have bounced off the hood and rolled a little. Then
he struggled to get up as the car moved off. Not sure if he would have lived at
that point, M.E. will be able to figure that out. But he tried to get up and
then the same car backed-up and hit him again.”
“So we’re looking for a car with a body
dent in both front and back.” Said Welter.
Shank nodded “Yep. Some one with a grudge
against Dennis. I know his old man has enemies, knew that in high school but
Dennis was a born-again, and kept his noise clean.”
I closed my eyes and rubbed my fingers into
the sockets.
“You ok?” asked Welter.
“Beat and the day is only going to get
longer.” I turned to Shank. “You the lead on this?”
Shank shrugged. “Even we can’t always keep
this stuff straight. The accident happened right at the city limits, Prihor
lived in what would be considered Maughnsville. God only knows where the driver
lives. The only one I am sure has no jurisdiction here is the State cop, and
he’s a jerk wad anyway. Why? You got something?”
“Yeah. I need to fill you two in on what
I’ve been doing in regards to the Lexington and Daniels murder.”
“This related?” asked Welter.
I shook my head. “Not sure. Could be. Or it
could be that I got Dennis killed by running up the wrong tree.”
Both cops looked into the wooded area where
Dennis had died and then at me.
“Sorry” I rubbed my eyes again
“Unintentional pun. Anyway I need coffee and we need conversation.”
Shank looked at Welter, who looked at me
than said. “Nothing he or I can do here. We can cruise down to the Amish Market
over on Longmeadow. You got a name for us before we go?”
I nodded. “Yes, but don’t pick him up yet
till I give the whole story.”
Shank smiled “Hot lead?”
“Yes, but he won’t run.”
“Okay then” said Shank. “Name, talk,
coffee, breakfast and hopefully arrest in that order.”
“Tim Lafayette” I said. “But I’m missing
something I just can’t figure what.”
Chapter
Nineteen
It was nearly nine by the time I said good
bye to Welter and Shank. I had brought them up to speed on the radio station
and my thoughts concerning Tim Lafayette. They had asked if I wanted to ride
along on their questioning of Tim, but I had declined. Anything I wanted to
know from Tim would be stifled by the presence of the police. More pointedly I
liked being in charge of my own investigations.
Further I had to admit I was beat.
I drove over to the diner to see if Rita
had come into work or if she was sleeping in and coming in later in the day. We
had Joshua’s memorial service at six so knowing my workaholic wife she was
planning on sleeping to ten working till five and then meeting me at the
service.
I parked by my shop and then went across the
street. I was right Rita was not there yet but Roberta was and she was looking
frazzled.
“You okay Kid?” I asked as I walked behind
the counter and poured a cup of coffee.
“Yeah, heard there was big doings on the
ranch?”
I smiled “Yep. You missed the show.”
“Glad I did. I sent Cathy over to help
Greg, he looked exhausted. So I am one down in here but Mom says she will be
here within the hour.”
I looked over the place it was a typical
Saturday morning crowd. Busy. But it would be busier in an hour when folks
began to wake up. I spotted Doug Hallman at a table near the rear.
I pointed to him and said to Roberta “Well
guess I didn’t scare him off.”
She shrugged. “He must like the food he’s
been here every day for a week.”
I grinned, who wouldn’t like my wife’s
cooking.
“I’m going to go across the street and send
Cathy back here to help you that should give you a break till Mom gets here.”
“Thanks.”
I walked across the street to the shop,
said my hellos to Greg and Cathy, who were not all that happy that I had interrupted
their day together, ah the joys of a young love, or young crushes at least. I
was glad to see that while neither one of they had the nerve yet to open their
mouths, Cathy clearly returned Greg’s devotion. She hung on every word of his
‘hero’ story, and made me repeat the tale from my Point Of View twice.
I sent her back across the street and told
Greg to head home and rest. I then called Patrick Mandasman. A local
ner-do-well, who never seemed to have a steady job but who brought each new
book that came out week after week. He had covered the shop for me on several
occasions in exchange for a week on the cuff. Sometimes that deal went to him
and sometimes to me, depending on how many hours I needed him. This week he was
going to be one up.
While I waited for Patrick, I checked in on
my wife and told her I would be home as soon as possible. She was happy to hear
that, since Stan was out cutting hay and Jesse and the kids were heading to her
parents for the day and meeting Stan and the rest of us at the memorial service
later on. Rita said that though she would never admit it she got the feeling
that Millicent would like one of us on the property at least for the day. I
filled Rita in on Dennis and she was more than shocked.
“So does this mean Tim killed Josh and Mac
as well?”
“Not sure.” I said with a deep sigh. “Maybe.”
“Or maybe not and if not then you’re
feeling bad about Dennis.”
“Yep.”
“Get over it 5-0, Tim killed him not you.”
She said it as an order and I gave a small laugh.
“Yes Slim I got ya.”
We hung up with the usual but always sincere
I love yous and I called Ric Blade. I did not think there would be any legal ramifications
for us or the Grants after Sinclair’s attack last night but given how litigious
America has become my mind could see a scenario where Sinclair sued the Grants
for Greg hitting him in the eye with the laser beam and some idiot jury
awarding him millions. Ric assured me she would have it all under control and
that she would bill Christina’s firm since the incident happened because I was
working for her.
My next phone call was the Christina to
inform her of the impending bill and bring her up to speed.
When I finished I heard her puff.
“Wow”
“Wow is right Chrissy.”
“What did you call me?” She snapped.
“Sorry is that reserved?” I said with a
laugh.
I could feel her blush across the phone.
“He’s not that bad a guy.” I said to ease
her pain.
She puffed again then ignored me “I’m going
to file a motion to see if we can re-visit bail for Ivy in light of new
evidence.”
“Is there new evidence?”
“Well we have the Tim stuff and with any
luck by Monday we will have something from Argon.
I can’t file till Monday morning anyways.”
“But it keeps you a step ahead. Will I see you at the memorial service?”
“Yes. I liked Dr. Lexington the few times I
meet him.”
“The Nazarene Church isn’t going to toss
you for consorting with Baptists?” I said with a laugh.
“No we forgive over in my end of Christendom.”
We hung up with both of us laughing. Patrick
came in as I placed the phone down. I gave him a quick rundown concerning what
I though the day at the shop would be like. I had given him keys earlier in the
year and so he would close up for me throwing the days cash in the safe in the
back which I had already opened for him.
“Have a cool day Man.” He said as I left. I
gave him the black power sign and wandered on out.
Chapter
Twenty
I should have stayed inside.
Leaning against the hood of my Sable were
two guys in there mid-twenties both dressed in black suits with white shirts
and black ties. They were each built like a football linebacker. The one of the
left had a stock of thick black hair tied down the nape of the neck in a ponytail
the other one had a buzz cut. Both had piercing brown eyes.
“Let me guess” I said as I approached
“You’re Z and you’re J and MIB wants me to forget about that alien I saw last
week?”
The buzz cut spoke, his eastern European
accent thick as the humidity of the day “Mr. Prihor wishes to speak with you.”
“I’ll check my calendar and see when I can
fit him in.”
“Now.” said Pony Tail.
I looked around. “Is he here?”
“He is at his residence.” Said Buzz Cut.
“Then I can’t speak to him now, as that
implies immediately.”
“Get in the truck.” Said Buzz Cut pointing to
a Ford Escalade parked next to my poor old Mercury.
“He’s in the car?”
Pony Tail took a long breathe “Stop
stalling. Get in the truck and we will take you to Mr. Prihor.”
“And if I don’t want to go?” I asked.
“You will come with us. One way or the other.”
Said Pony tail with surprisingly little malice.
I love Robert B Parker’s Spencer. In the
books, currently written by other folks since the passing of Parker, Spencer is
my age or older, yet he never flinches from a physical confrontation with two or
three tough guys. He takes them out with neatly placed boxing moves and an
uncanny knowledge of street fighting.
I am a former cop and an ex-con, I am in
better than average shape for a fifty year old man. But unlike Spencer I am not
a fictional character, nor was I ever a boxer. If there were one of these guys
I may have a go at it. Though from the size of them, and my current lack of
sleep, I am not sure I could take even one, with two of them I would be a fool
to confront them now. Logic said if Prihor wanted to hurt me in any way he
would do it long distance not have me driven to his house.
“I need to be back for a memorial service
later this afternoon.”
Buzz Cut looked at his watch “It is 10:00AM.
I promise that Mr. Prihor will have you back here before noon. My word.”
I nodded and walked over to the truck.
“Then let’s go.”
We took I-81 to 70 West and 70 West to the
Smithsburg exit. We drove in silence, even I could not think of a smart mouth
comment. From Smithsburgh we took Cavetown Church Road about half way up
towards Catochin State Park, a small and hidden drive way lead us to a modest
size home settled deep back in the woods. More than a dozen cars were parked in
the circular drive in front of the place. Buzz Cut got out and held the door
open for me. I step out trying not to duck and roll as I did.