Where Is Henderson? (Sam Darling mystery #5) (4 page)

“You got it, bro,” Jen retorted. Then she added, “In honor of Sam, we have a lot of vegetarian dishes. And in honor of George, since he is a police officer, we have ham.” Some of the people didn’t understand the reference—from when people called the police “pigs,” but most of us were old enough to get it. Jen gave George a quick wink and grin before he could protest the choice. His face looked like it couldn’t decide whether to frown or smile, and he finally grinned back at her.

“I’m still not used to your family’s humor,” he said to me.

“Yeah, me either,” I answered, returning a smile to him.

We were allotted the place of honor in the buffet line. I walked down one side, and he the other. We glanced up at each other as we were filling our plates, and I finally said, “I can’t believe we’re getting married.”

“This is something I’ve wanted since high school,” he said, and my heart melted as it always did when confronted with George’s sweetness.

“I was such a fool,” I said quietly, mostly to myself.

“Hold that thought,” George said. “I’ll want to get it on tape.”

Both of us smiled as we finished taking spoonful after spoonful of the goodies and walked back to our nearby table.

We didn’t talk too much while eating, except for George to repeat that he wanted me to say “I was such a fool” again. I nudged him with my elbow, trying to distract him from that thought.

While I ate, I looked around at the people in the room. Most of them were family, but there was a sprinkling of friends as well—the Granvilles, Cal Wade—George’s BFF, Cynthia Wayne—my BFF in high school, and a few others. I felt content, which was a newish feeling.

This contentment was doomed to be fleeting.

G
eorge and I did a lot of laughing at the shower. The games were especially fun, at least for me. George tried to opt out of the games, but to no avail. I hoped someone took lots of pictures of the men trying to make bridal gowns on the women out of toilet paper. And when it came time to open the presents, some of my siblings gave us gag gifts, which caused a little embarrassment in front of everyone, and of course that was the point.

When I opened a lacy thong from my brother Pete, I did have to say something. “PETER JOSEPH DARLING!” I said, full name in capital letters, the universal sign for anger. “PETER, you’re a priest!” I said in mock horror.

“And I had such a good time buying those. I’d never been in a lingerie department before. There were some items that confused me. I had no idea what they were for.” He pointed toward the small scrap of lace in my hand. “That, I could figure out at least.” The room laughed with him, and ultimately I did too. Then he added, “I knew it was a slingshot right off.” I spit out some food at that, but luckily George was sitting next to me instead of across from me. Laughter filled the room, except for Aunt Bea and Uncle James. Aunt Bea because she disapproved and Uncle James because he couldn’t hear what was said.

After the presents, cake, and thanks, I said good-bye to my family, with special thanks to Jen and Jill for organizing things. George gave hugs all around, even to the rookie cop, Rob. He said to Rob, “Walk out with me and I’ll fill you in on what’s happening.”

Rob grinned. I could tell he felt important that the Chief of Detectives was going to tell him details of what he’d been involved in.

After we walked to the parking lot, I hugged Rob and kissed George, saying, “I’ll see you later. Think I’ll get a ride home with Jen. See you for dinner?”

George began his conversation with Rob right away, but he nodded and smiled at me.

I yelled at Jen to wait for me. She and the other sibs were loading presents into the back seat of her car. After everything was packed away, she carefully pulled out of the icy parking spot, and I rolled down my window. “George, if any thing fun… er, interesting… happens, please let me know. Otherwise I’ll see you at dinner.”

He didn’t nod or speak to me, but I knew he heard me.

Jen dropped me off and as I walked in the door with two bags full of gifts, I greeted an enthusiastic Clancy with, “Let’s go for a long walk. And I’d like to start running again.”

Her excitement was palpable. She got her leash and sat in front of me. Her bottom refused to stay still, and she did the “Clancy rhumba” while still sitting. She didn’t have to dance for long. I ran to the bedroom, took off my “good” clothes in an instant and left them where they fell. My sweats were on a chair in my room, so I put them on and laced up my athletic shoes, and we left a scant minute after I’d arrived.

Although I normally had a conversation with Clancy the entire time we walked, this time it was different. While walking I felt great. However, when I started running, not only was my breathing compromised, I slipped and slid on errant patches of ice. “This is not fun,” I finally gasped.

My sure-footed friend disagreed. She was having a ball—running in the snow and ice, and laughing at my lack of fitness. The run didn’t last long—I blamed it on the ice. We turned around before Clancy was ready, and began a slow walk home. As usual, I looked around at the glorious mansions on Maine Street and couldn’t help but smile. I counted my blessings that my old friend Gus had an empty carriage house at the same time I moved back to Quincy and needed a place to live.

Clancy and I walked around Gus and Georgianne’s home and I stopped for a moment in the courtyard. The “small” carriage house was nearly as large as George’s home, except it had no basement. It was red brick and limestone, typical of Quincy’s architecture. Looking at my lovely home, something occurred to me for the first time. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it until now.

“George and I have never talked about where we’re going to live.” I turned to Clancy. “Can you believe it? This all happened so fast we didn’t think. George lives in his family home, and he loves it there… but maybe he’d consider moving out and renting it to someone trustworthy.” I pictured his pride the first time he had walked me through and showed me all the work he’d done in the place.

“Oh, my, Clancy. I predict this is going to be a problem.” I quickly shook my body to get the thought out of it. “I’m not going to think about it. It’s been a perfect day and dinner will be wonderful too.” I heard her soft growl, telling me I’d forgotten her. “I mean it’s been perfect except you weren’t with us.” She relaxed.

After a quick shower I sat in the living room and thought about the body that had fallen off the train. Surely by now they would know the man’s identity. When I was there they hadn’t checked his pockets yet because the cops were waiting on Conrad the coroner to arrive before moving the guy. I was sure George knew more at this point. I was also sure he was waiting for dinner to tell me. I had a sense of urgency about things—probably my impetuousness—but vowed to sit calmly and wait until I saw George before bombarding him with questions. So I sat. And I sat. After about an hour of checking emails, texts, and FaceBook on my phone, I could wait no longer. I’d just pulled up George’s number to press, when my phone rang.

“Hi ya, Sam,” said my sweetie.

“Hi. Ready for dinner?” I asked, controlling my urge to grill him.

“Yep. Want me to pick you up?”

“Sure. See you in…?”

“One second,” he laughed, as my doorbell rang.

I greeted him with a short kiss, wanting to get moving as quickly as possible.

I did remember to say good-bye to Clancy, with an added promise to be home early. And I controlled myself long enough to get in George’s car and buckle my seatbelt before asking, “What’s up with the murder?”

George smiled. “I was deliberately waiting to see how long it would take you to ask me.”

“George Lansing, that’s just cruel!” I said in mock anger. “I didn’t call you. I didn’t text about it. I didn’t ask you when you called. I waited until now. That’s pretty darn good for me.”

“It sure is, sweetie,” he said, leaning over and kissing me at a stop sign. “While Conrad was working on the autopsy I checked on the ‘Henderson County Colonels,’ which was on the victim’s sweatshirt.” He expertly weaved through the narrow alley to get to 16th Street. “Turns out it’s in Henderson, Kentucky. I sent the guy’s picture to the local law enforcement. Ought to be hearing something any time. That’s all I’ve had time to do so far.”

“Maybe I should have checked on the vase. But I’ve been so excited about the shower and looking at our presents… I didn’t do much of anything else, except walk with Clancy.”

“Plenty of time for that. Plus, you don’t have to do it. That’s what the police are for. This is a case you don’t have to get involved in.” We were at a stoplight and he stared at me. “I’m going to repeat myself just to make sure you heard me. This is a case you don’t have to get involved in.”

“I hear you. I hear you,” I muttered as I crossed my arms. I felt my bottom lip start to pop out and I immediately caught myself and stopped the pouting before it started.

By then we were at the Rectory and I suppressed any errant indignation while I enjoyed a scrumptious meal cooked especially for us by the owner, Anthony Lasorda.

After a glass of sweet wine for dessert, George dropped me off at home. We both had early mornings the next day and decided to sleep at our respective homes.

The next day was indeed busy. Clancy and I went to work, and saw some clients. Clancy is a therapy dog and makes a big contribution. Then over lunch Jen and I went shopping for my dress. Not wanting a traditional wedding dress because of my age and previous marriage, I wanted it to be simple and modest enough for church. But I still wanted to be a knockout in the dress I would wear to marry George. That might be asking a lot, but I hoped it was doable. Because we only had an hour, we didn’t succeed this time, but there were still a few weeks left.

George and I spoke on the phone several times throughout the day and evening. He saying how busy he was and me asking for more details about the body.

“I do have a name for you. The guy is Cash Henderson. Even though he had no ID on him, the police recognized him from the photo I sent. They had a lot to say about him too,” George reported.

“Yeah, interesting. Tell me what they said.” My response was pretty predictable.

“I don’t have much time right now, and I have to work tonight on another case…”

“Murder?” I asked.

“Nope.” George sounded positively gleeful that he could say that. “But I do have a lot to do. I’m going to stay here and work late. I’ll talk to you later tonight but for right now I gotta go.”

“Okay.” That was hard for me to say, but I said it.

After work Clancy and I went for a long walk while I told her what I knew. Basically nothing.

“Yeah, that’s it, girl. Name and city. I don’t even know where Henderson, Kentucky is, do you?” Even I knew it was ridiculous to ask my dog if she knew where Henderson was. Of course she didn’t know—she couldn’t read. “Sorry, girl. But anyway, that’s all I know. I forgot to ask George what Conrad said about the preliminary results from the autopsy. I’m slacking.”

We were both tired when we got home. As I opened my door I received a text from George saying he really didn’t have time to talk tonight but would call me first thing in the morning.

I told Clancy about the text. “It’s really okay. He wouldn’t tell me anything anyway.”

Then in the early morning hours, I got the phone call that would change things, and packed for Henderson.

G
eorge picked us up around 9:00 a.m. By then I’d packed, put away “stuff” that was laying around my house, gotten Clancy’s food, texted my sibs and kids to let them know where I was going, and had called my office informing them as well. I’d already taken a month-long leave that started that day to prepare for the wedding and to enjoy our honeymoon trip. But the office knew they could call me in case of emergency. If I were really needed I would cancel everything else to help out. Except for the wedding itself and the honeymoon. So I had to tell them I’d be gone.

Clancy climbed in the back of George’s car and curled up on a blanket George had thoughtfully provided. I secured her in a doggy seatbelt that I always used when we were on the highway.

By the time I climbed in the front seat George was tapping on the steering wheel.

“Sorry.” I didn’t know what I’d done wrong, but I knew I’d done something.

“No, I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s got nothing to do with you.” His shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. “The last thing I wanted to do this close to our wedding was to have to go out of town.”

“Why do you have to, honey? You’re the boss.”

“Yeah, and that means I’m responsible. Everyone else has a reason they can’t go, and rather than make other people cancel things, I thought it would be easier to just go myself.”

“You’re a good guy, do you know that?” I undid my seatbelt long enough to lean over and kiss him. I quickly put my seatbelt back on and smiled. As George backed out of the courtyard, I said, “This will probably turn out to be a good thing. I don’t really know what you have to do there. Yet.” He got my drift. “But even though I still have a ton of things to do, it might be nice for me to be able to relax for a few days. And your job probably won’t be strenuous. You’ll be able to relax too.”

I reclined my seat a little and decided he could handle a bit of my inquisitiveness. “Now, honey. Please tell me two things—what do you hope to accomplish in Henderson? And where are we staying?”

“I’ll answer the second question first,” George said, driving east toward the interstate. “We’re staying at the Henderson Bed and Breakfast. There are some motels in Henderson or we could cross the Ohio River and stay in Evansville, Indiana, but I’d prefer to stay in Henderson. And get a feel for the local color of the town itself.”

“That sounds nice. And…”

“And Conrad said Henderson died from a head injury, probably two days prior to the day his body fell off the train. It’s difficult to determine exact time of death because there was no real decomposition. He was frozen. Probably just from the weather, and not a purposeful thing, although he’s checking further on that. Of course, I traced the train. It ran from Henderson north to Chicago, then Chicago southwest to Quincy. And this particular train left Henderson two days prior to us finding the body.” He made an expert turn onto Broadway.