Baptist DISTINCTIVE: An Adam Mykonos Mystery (The Adam Myknonos Mystries) (2 page)

She
took a step back as if I had physically assaulted her. “Now is not the time to
be mean Brother Adam.”

I ignored
her and turned to Christina. “Can you bring me up to speed?”

Christina
spoke directly to Ivy. “Mrs. Lexington, I am going to advise you that I am
officially hiring Mr. Mykonos as an investigator in your case, while he will be
discreet and as my employee shares some level of confidentiality, he is an
independent consultant and as such could be compelled to testify against you.
Do I have your permission to tell him all you have told me?”

Ivy
looked puzzled and then spoke slowly. “Brother Adam would feel bound by a much
higher law than yours to keep my secrets…if I had any.” She said.

Christina
puffed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Christina
took a long breathe of air and then puffed the bangs out of her eyes before
proceeding. “According to the police report at 6:14PM they received a 911 call
of shots fired at 112-22 White Pine Road which as you know is McKenzie Daniels
townhouse. The Washington County Sheriff’s Office arrived approximately ten minutes
later and upon entering the house found Mrs. Lexington standing in the living
room holding a 32 caliber pistol, which had recently been fired and Joshua
Lexington and McKenzie Daniels dead of gunshot wounds.”

Ivy
moved to speak but I held up my hand. “One second Ivy.
 
Were they killed by 32?”

“Too
soon to tell, apparently.”

“Paraffin
test?”

“Mrs.
Lexington admitted to firing the gun.”

I
tried to hide how startled I was as I turned to Ivy. “Really?”

“When
I arrived I found Joshua and Mac dead, there was a gun near the front door, I
picked it up, and I thought I saw someone in the kitchen so I fired though the
little open window thing between the dining room and kitchen.”

“Verified?”
I asked Christina.

“Verified
that a bullet landed in the kitchen yes, but given the locations of the bodies
it could have been a miss at the real target.”

“And
why was she at Mac’s?”

“Claims
that McKenzie called her and asked her to come over.”

Ivy
piped in loudly. “She DID call me.”

“Cell
Phone?” I asked.

Christina
smiled. “Yes, and yes the cops have it and no I have no verification of fact,
yet. You sure you weren’t a lawyer as well as a cop?”

“I
was a con as well as a cop. “I turned to Ivy “Okay from the top. Don’t leave anything
out.”

An
hour later I had Ivy’s version of events from the phone call to the arrival of
the police.

“And
can you take a stab at weather the person you thought you saw in the kitchen
was a man or woman?”

“I
did see a person in the kitchen.
  
I’m
not sure of the sex, either a very small man or a small woman.”

Christina
puffed “Narrows that down.”

Ivy
snapped like a school teacher at a tardy student. “I am sorry that in the midst
of finding my husband and his paramour dead on the floor I did not have the presence
of mind to take note of the description of their killer as he or she raced out
the backdoor.”

“You’re
forgiven.” I deadpanned.

We
stood in silence for a moment, just long enough for it to be uncomfortable,
finally Ivy asked. “So when can I post bail and go home to my children?”

“Josh
is waiting outside.” I said “Who has Miriam?”

Ivy
shook her head and for the first time all night sobbed.
 
“I am not sure. I need to get to her.”

Christina
and I exchanged a hard look we both knew that chances of bail in a double
capital murder case were slim at best.
 
We were saved from having to tell Ivy that, at least for that moment, by
a knock on the door.

“Come
in.”

Ray
and another officer entered the small room.

“Sorry
Ms. Denmark but I need to take Mrs. Lexington back through booking now. You can
see her again in a few hours, right before the arraignment. Also Sheriff Welter
would appreciate it if you’d talk to the people from the Herald-Mail and Channel
25 they are
 
camped out front, he figures
maybe if you give them some kind of statement to balance what the D.A. already
said we can avoid a media shark feeding. Oh and he wants that crowd out of the
barracks like yesterday.”

Christina
gave a tight nod. “Sure.”

It
was an empty hope and we all knew it. There was no way we were going to escape
the media.

“Could
you tell the Sheriff that Mr. Mykonos will be acting as an official investigator
for the defense, please cooperate with him as much as possible.”

Ray
glared; Christina had just reminded him that he hated me. “Sure.”

“Ray,
I’m going to head over to Mac’s house, can you please call ahead and make sure
that I can at least glance around?”

He
shook his head. “Nope, not without orders from Welter I can’t.”

He led
Ivy out of the room.

Christina
smiled. “I’ll see what I can do about that.”

We
walked out of the room and rounded a corner into what could only be called a mob.
When Ray had said a crowd I figured that Josh had been joined by one or two
people, a crowd in cop terms. I was very wrong, there had to be thirty people
there, all from Calvary Baptist Temple, my old church, the church Joshua had
pastored, the church that had fired him. The church that hated those of us who
left to form a new church, the church that had rallied around Ivy, this was not
going to be fun at all.

Chapter Two:

As Christina
and I approached they swarmed us, many speaking at once and quite a few having
not so nice things to say about me.

“Hold
on everybody. Hold on let me talk to Brother Adam.” Came a voice that had
always sounded far too much like Rod Steger in Cool Hand Luke for my taste.

Slowly
from the center of the crowd, one arm hung around Joshua’s neck emerged the
owner of the voice. He was about my height but had begun to be bent with age,
his hands were large but soft, unfamiliar with hard work, and his hair was
stock gray. He wore a tan suit with a matching shirt and tie; in his left hand
he held a large cowboy hat.

He
was the Reverend Doctor Beauregard Jefferson Longstreet, the founder of Calvary
Baptist Temple, it’s once pastor emeritus and current acting pastor.

Christina
looked at me.
 
I could not help but grin,
“I got this.” I whispered, “Deal with the press; I’ll catch up after the arraignment.”

She
slid through the crowd as Longstreet offered me his hand. I took it more on
reflex and manners than desire or companionship.

Longstreet’s
southern gentlemen’s voice was low but deep as he said. “I say, Brother Adam,
these good people would like to collect our Sister Ivy and take her on home to
her children: can you help me with this?”

For
a moment, as often happens I felt I was talking to Foghorn Leghorn.

“I’m
afraid it won’t be that easy, Sir. Ivy has been charged with two counts of
capital murder and needs to see the judge for her arraignment.”

I
glanced at my watch it was nearly 1:30 in the morning. “And that will not
likely happen till around ten or eleven o’clock in the morning.
 
So the best we can do right now is go home
and pray.”

The
crowd began to mumble again and for a second I thought they would charge, than
Longstreet held up his hand.

“I
see, I see. Can you please tell me how you got here?”

“Ivy
called her attorney Christina Denmark, and then, I guess knowing that I worked
with Chris in the past asked her to call me.”

From
the back of the crowd a voice with a high pitch and Philadelphia accent rang
out.
 
“And we’re supposed to believe that
after siding with that snake you are now on Ivy’s side?”

Before
I answered him, I waited for Timothy Lafayette, the chair of the Deacons Board
to come alongside his pastor. Tim was slightly shorter than I was with a gut
that was going to need a zip code in a few years. His gray hair was thinning
but not gone. His face had that inverted pear shape look that I personally
disliked.
 
He wore a pair of black Dockers
and a light, almost pink, red shirt. The open collar made me think that he was
trying to look younger than he was.

“Tim,
like all of us I am on the side of the truth. Truth is things look bad for Ivy
right now. And aside from prayer, Christina is her best shot, if Chris and Ivy
want my help that I will do what I can.”

Longstreet
pondered for a second and then spoke “Will there be bail?”

I
shook my head. “It’s a capital crime so if there is bail it will be very high.”

 
“We will of course mortgage the church and all
its property if we have to, help our Sister.” Longstreet said.

I
saw Lafayette’s face go ashen and I almost laughed.
 
“Whatever you think is best Sir, for now
though you need to send these people home to get some rest.”

Longstreet
looked at me and then smiled “Yes, yes, folks let us do as Brother Adam has suggested,
we can meet at the courthouse at say 9AM. “

There
were mumbles of yes. I touched Longstreet’s arm “She wanted to know where
Miriam was?”

“With
Mrs. Longstreet and my daughter Nancy” He replied.
 
“Oh folks”, he said louder, “Let us pray for
our Sister before we leave.”

“And
for Joshua and McKenzie as well”, I said as I stepped into the circle the group
was forming, though I had never felt so unwelcome in a prayer circle.

Longstreet
coughed and said “And yes for their souls as well, at least they are with the
Savior tonight.”

As
Longstreet led the prayer I thought of my two lost friends, both of whom I
would see one day again in heaven.
 
I
prayed that I would not have to wait till then to have the answers as to why
they died tonight.

It
was just past 2 AM when I drove up Business parkway and back towards White Pine
Road in that strange boarder land between Hagerstown and Williamsport.
 
As a New Yorker I am use to a city that goes
on for miles and I will always have a hard time adjusting to the idea that a
city, county and town can all just bleed into each other without any seeming
reason or rhythm.
 
White Pine was in
Washington County and considered part of Hagerstown via its zip code but was
outside the official city limit and so in the jurisdiction of the county Sherriff.
 

It
looked on this warm summer night like many of its counterparts around the area
a sleek and somewhat sterile development with cookie cutter houses and neatly
mowed lawns. The secular sound track in my head tuned to the Monkees Pleasant
Valley Sunday as I pulled up across the way from what had been McKenzie
Daniel’s place.
 
A lone patrol car sat
out front, the house was taped off with yellow caution tape and it looked more
like the scene from a bad cop show then that of an actual murder.

I
crossed over to the patrol car and was not at all surprised to see the officer
was asleep.
 
I do not mean that to be
disparaging, I pulled more than my fair share of “watch this place” duty in my
day and it is dull boring and slightly silly.
 
The presence of one car meant that the forensic team had finished their
work and the actual chance of the criminal returning to the scene of the crime
were slim and none and slim had left town.

I
really only wanted to check one thing. I thought about doing the right thing
and rapping on the window to wake the officer, but what purpose would that
serve?
 
He would be annoyed that I woke
him, embarrassed that he had been asleep and therefore unlikely to grant my
request. So instead I went back to the car and took a pocket flashlight from
the glove compartment, then I crept around to the back yard and peered at the
ground by the back stoop.

 
No footprints could be seen in the grass and
it did not appear as if the CSI boys had taken a cast of any. No proof, at
least outdoors, of Ivy’s person in the kitchen.

I
got back in my car and drove home.

Rita
was deep asleep when I got home and I did not wake her as she had asked,
instead I left a note for her to wake me when she got up for work, at 5:00 AM, my
ever loving wife let me sleep a half an hour longer than that.
 
And so showered, shaved and filled with Captain
Crunch, Six AM found me, after far too little sleep, standing in my back yard
sipping a cup of coffee and trying to get my head straight.

We
live in an old farm house on the Thompson family farm in Clear Spring. My
mother-in-law the indomitable Millicent Thompson owns the second largest
working farm in Clear Spring and one of the largest in the county. She has both
milk and beef cows, though I am hard pressed to tell the difference, chickens,
some goats and several dozen acres of corn and/or soy bean depending on
something or another.