Only When I Dream Page 30

  “Poor guy. I’ve heard him having conversations with Marie – it’s like she’s in the room with him. It’s taking a toll on Edna. She won’t even go in the bedroom anymore. She lets the home health nurses take care of him and spends her time on the other end of the house talking with one of her spiritual advisors,” Bill said.

  “So she’s still into the fortune telling stuff?” Bud asked.

  “Yeah, as much as ever. But it’s her business so I don’t say anything,” Bill said.

  “Everybody’s got to have something I guess,” Bud said.

  “Listen, I need to get back to the office,” Bill added, pointing to the boat. “Next time you call me, invite me to go fishing. We’d both enjoy that a lot more.”

  “Sounds good. I appreciate you coming down here,” Bud said as he offered his hand.

  “See you around Bud,” Bill said as he shook the hand in front of him.

  ***

  Alvin walked back into the office and closed the door behind him.

  “Hope you don’t mind but I changed my mind about that Diet Pepsi,” Jett said as he held the silver can up with his right hand.

  Clearly distracted, Alvin mumbled, “Oh yeah, no problem,” as he flipped through the file. “Huh...Bill Kantrell was the investigating officer and the coroner was...oh wow.”

  “Frasier Malone – a man too incompetent for any one field of medicine,” Jett said.

  “This...this is strange,” he said as he sat down behind desk, glancing up at Jett for a second.

  “What is it?” Jett asked.

  “This the complete file on the Marie Atkins suicide but it’s missing so much,” Alvin said.

  “Such as?” Jett asked.

  “Well, for one thing the full autopsy report isn’t here. All that’s here is a general summary listing the cause of death as a suicide by overdose of barbiturates. No toxicology report, autopsy photos, nothing,” Alvin said.

  “You said ‘for one thing.’ That usually means there’s a second thing,” Jett said.

  “There is. Look at this – upper right-hand corner,” Alvin said as he handed an age-yellowed paper across the desk.

  In the section marked cause of death was a strip of white correction fluid with the words “suicide by overdose of barbiturates” printed in blue ink.

  Jett’s mouth dropped open.

  “Now it could be there was a typo and the person that typed this up was too lazy to retype it,” Alvin said.

  “And it could mean this summary has been altered,” Jett said.

  “Either way, I want the original summary as well as the missing pieces of this file - including the full autopsy report. It should be on file in Frankfort and it needs to be on file here. I’ll have them e-mail the file and pictures too,” Alvin said.

  “How long will that take?” Jett said.

  “Hard to say. It’s a closed case from thirty years ago. I don’t see them making this a top priority,” Alvin said.

  “Would they let me drive up and search the files myself?” Jett asked.

  “Yeah, if you have a mind and the patience to do so,” Alvin said.

  “What if the original shows that this file was altered?” Jett asked.

  “If by altered you mean changed the findings of the M.E., then this case isn’t closed. It will be an active case and you won’t get a chance to investigate it. This department will take over and we’ll do it,” Alvin said.

  Jett lifted his eyes from the paper in front of him to his friend, a suddenly very serious chief of police.

  “We’ll find out soon enough,” Jett said.

  “When are you thinking about driving up to Frankfort?” Alvin asked.

  “Unless something comes up, probably Friday after we get the paper to bed. I mean my curiosity is peaked but I still have day-to-day responsibilities,” Jett said.

  Alvin nodded and drained his Diet Pepsi.

  “I’d like to ride up with you,” he said.

  Jett leaned back in his chair.

  “You don’t trust me?” He asked.

  “It’s not that. I want to know about this ASAP. And if the folks in the records department see a badge they generally provide more cooperation...I’m trying to help,” Alvin said.

  “Okay. We’ll leave Friday somewhere in the neighborhood of ten – but you’re buying lunch. And not just some cheap drive-thru either,” Jett said.

  “Deal,” Alvin said as he closed the file. “You want a copy of what’s here?”

  “Yes and I would appreciate you not mentioning this or the trip Friday to anyone,” Jett said.

  Alvin frowned.

  “What are you afraid of anyway?” He asked.

  “To be honest, I’m not sure myself. Call it a hunch, a suspicion, or just a real bad feeling but it just seems like – I don’t know – that if this wasn’t a suicide, those responsible for whatever it was, are still watching,” Jett said.

  “Fair enough. You have my word,” Alvin said. “But finding this file makes me wonder if we have any more in the same condition. Looks like me and any officers wanting overtime will be putting in late hours for the foreseeable future.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Liz and Mallorie settled in at a picnic table in the old city park across the street from the National Guard Armory. The park had been built right after World War II and was the center of recreational activity in Crystal Springs until Riverfront Park was finished in the 1960s.

  The picnic area – populated with eight wooden picnic tables – sat just beyond the high fence in centerfield of the old Little League baseball park, Leinart Field. A few games were still held at the field but it had been relegated to practice field status decades before. It was still a popular destination for locals to take a quick lunch break because of the oak trees that provided an almost perfect blend of sun and shade. The tables were spaced far enough apart – about twenty feet between them – to allow people to talk privately.

  Mallorie opened the brown bag and handed a foil-wrapped chicken sandwich to Liz and then a small bag of fries. She then dug out her own chicken sandwich and fries. As she unwrapped her sandwich, she looked to Liz.

  “I hope this is okay – to come out here, I mean,” she said.

  “It’s fine. I love it here. And I’ll take any excuse to enjoy this wonderful weather,” Liz said.

  She noticed Mallorie had put her sandwich down and looked a little shaken.

  “What’s wrong honey?” Liz asked.

  “I didn’t want to say anything at the office because I didn’t want anybody to hear. I haven’t even said anything to Bud about this because...well, I guess I don’t want him to think I’m losing my mind. But I trust you to keep this quiet,” Mallorie said as her voice cracked.

  Liz reached across and patted her hand.

  “You can tell me anything,” she said.

  “You know how Granny consults mediums, astrologers, and physics?” Mallorie asked.

  Liz nodded.

  “Well, I’ve heard the rumors from pretty reliable sources - like Bud - over the years,” she said.

  “It’s true. She literally plans each day based on what her ‘spiritualists’,” Mallorie made air quotes, “tell her to do or not do. And she’s been like that for as long as I can remember.”

  “From what I understand about people that have such beliefs that’s not unusual,” Liz said.

  “I grew up around it so my idea of normal and these things are different from everyone else. But lately, she’s getting...strange, even for her,” Mallorie said.

  Liz swallowed a bite of her sandwich.

  “What do you mean dear?” She asked.

  “For years she’s told me I have ‘the gift,’ which is apparently some type of physic ability,” Mallorie said.

  Liz’s eyebrows raised.

  “Do you?” She asked.

  “No, it’s just Granny’s imagination. But in the past couple of days, I’ve been having some strange dreams. Granddaddy’s been having them too
– and mine are so much like his,” Mallorie said as she shook her head.

  Liz looked concerned.

  “What kind of dreams?” She asked.

  “Granddaddy keeps saying that he sees my mom and she’s still bitter,” Mallorie said.

  “And you dream of her too?” Liz asked.

  “Not exactly. I’ve been having dreams of Granddaddy and Granny fighting over what to do about mom,” Mallorie said.

  Taking a sip of her sweet tea, Liz looked at Mallorie.

  “What do you mean?” She asked.

  “That’s the thing that bothers me. I don’t know what Granny means. Granddaddy keeps screaming ‘she’s our daughter and she’s suffered enough.’ But Granny always screams something like ‘we’ve got to stop her before it’s too late,’ ‘you let me do it,’ or ‘you’re as much to blame as I am.’ Its things like that...but it’s not just what’s being said but also the tone of the conversation. It just sounds so – I’m not sure how to describe it – desperate, frantic, I really can’t put it into words,” Mallorie said.

  Liz sat quietly, listening carefully to each word.

  “Do you think I’m going crazy,” Mallorie asked.

  Liz smiled slowly.

  “No honey. Sounds you’re worried about Earl and that’s what’s causing your dreams. As to what’s causing his...I can’t imagine anyone getting over the loss of a child – ever,” she said.

  “I try to keep that in mind and I know he’s suffering from bouts of dementia that keeps getting worse...but these dreams...they are so vivid, so real,” Mallorie said. “It sounds like a lot of the arguments they had when I was little.”

  Liz winced.

  “Not that it’s any of my business but did they argue a lot back then?” She asked.

  “All the time – up until Granddaddy had the heart attack anyway. After that, the arguments pretty much stopped until recently,” Mallorie said.

  “I’m no expert but I still think it’s just a matter of your worries catching up to you. Maybe getting it out in the open will help,” Liz said.

  Mallorie attempted a smile.

  “You’re probably right. And hopefully it did help,” she said.

  Liz took another sip of her sweet tea.

  “Can I give you some free advice?” She asked.

  Mallorie laughed softly as she brushed her hair back behind her ear with her right hand.

  “Always,” she said.

  “Bud’s a whole lot of things but he’s one the best listeners I’ve ever known. You can always talk to me but if you ever feel the need, you ought to know you trust him with anything,” Liz said.

  “I know. It’s just...I hate to put too much on him. I know how he feels about Granddaddy and Granny and how Granny feels about him. I hate to get him mixed up in this,” Mallorie said.

  Liz smiled.

  “Are you kidding? You ought to know by now if Bud’s not in the thick of it, his feelings are hurt,” she said.

  Mallorie returned a dimpled smile. She reminded Liz so much of Marie at that moment.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Mallorie said.

  ***

  Jett took a stroll around courthouse square. He tightly held the unmarked folder with the copy of Marie Atkins’ file inside. Replaying the conversation with Alvin in his mind, he sat down on a bench in front of the courthouse a couple minutes later.

  He started to open the manila folder when the shadow crossed in front of him.

  “The working press,” said a familiar voice.

  Jett looked up.

  “Howdy Bill. Have a seat,” he said.

  “Believe I will,” the older man huffed.

  “How’s it going?” Jett asked.

  “Pretty good. Needless to say I’m not looking forward to what looks to be a hot summer,” Bill said as his breathing returned to normal.

  “It can’t be any worse than it was back in ‘86,” Jett said.

  “That was a hot one. And probably the driest one I can remember,” Bill said.

  “It was a busy summer. Seemed like Bud had some kind of special assignment for me each day,” Jett chuckled.

  “Speaking of Bud, has he been acting strange lately?” Bill asked.

  “It depends. Bud is generally gauged on a whole different level on the question of strange behavior,” Jett said.

  Bill laughed and then nodded to an elderly couple passing by them.

  “Well, what I mean is, does he seem to be himself lately? I’m worried about him. I talked to him earlier today and it’s like he’s living in the past,” he said.

  Jett feigned a concerned expression.

  “How do you mean?” He asked.

  “Well...let’s just say he wanted to talk about things that happened more than thirty years ago. It just seemed so random,” Bill said.

  Jett looked down at the folder in his hand, knowing exactly what Bud discussed with Bill.

  “Uh no, he seemed fine when we talked this morning,” he said.

  Bill clicked his tongue.

  “I guess it worries me because that’s how Earl started acting before dementia started setting in. Bud’s about the same age as Earl plus he hasn’t exactly been the picture of health lately. I heard about his trip to the ER last Saturday. I guess trying to keep up with Mallorie would be exhausting at his age,” he said.

  “Keeping up with Mallorie?” Jett asked in genuine surprise.

  “You don’t have to try to protect his reputation. I know people at the hospital. I know he was treated for exhaustion and I’m pretty sure I know what caused the exhaustion. Of course, looking at Mallorie, I can think of worse things to send me to the ER,” Bill said with a laugh as he slapped Jett on the knee.

  “I suppose you’re right,” Jett agreed.

  “Bud might be getting old but he’s still in the game. I have to say I admire him for that. But I’m sure you know, he’s always had a thing for young girls. You never knew Mallorie’s mother, Marie, but she was a looker too and I think ol’ Bud might have nailing her on the side,” Bill said.

  Again Jett looked surprise.

  “Really? I’ve heard a lot of rumors over the years but this is the first time I’ve heard that one,” he said.

  “I’m not saying it’s true mind you, but there was a time that I would’ve bet money that Mallorie was his daughter the way he provided for her care. But after talking to Edna, I’m convinced that the drunk boy was actually Mallorie’s daddy,” Bill said.

  “I don’t understand,” Jett said.

  “Long story short he was just party boy passing through that knocked up Marie and moved on,” Bill said.

  “I’ve never heard Mallorie mention her father,” Jett said.

  “He was killed in a boating accident. From what I understand he was dog drunk. It sounds bad but it was probably for the best. He had no intention of marrying Marie. He didn’t love her and everyone but her knew it,” Bill said as he stared across the street at the drug store but it appeared as though he was looking back in time.

  “That’s...that’s a real shame,” Jett said.

  Returning to the present, Bill turned back to Jett.

  “Yes it was and that was a long time ago. But back to Bud, I just worry about him. He introduced me to J.D.’s daughter the other day – said she’s going to be working at the paper. If I was you I’d keep an eye on Bud. Not all young girls find him cute or harmless and I worry as he gets older that might become a problem – for him and those around him,” he said.

  “We all try to keep an eye on Bud. But I do appreciate your concern and your willingness to look out for an old friend,” Jett said, hoping he sounded sincere.

  “I owe him. He’s helped me a lot over the years,” Bill said as he pulled himself back to his feet. “Guess I better get back to the office. Don’t want to charge the taxpayers for an extended lunch break.”

  “Good talking to you Bill,” Jett said.

  “Likewise. Be seeing you Jett,” he said as walked towa
rd the courthouse steps.

  As watched the waddling figure walk away Jett glanced down at the manila folder in his hand. Regardless of what was discussed between Bud and Bill, he found himself convinced that the former policeman was agitated. Jett knew that it was no secret that Bud had a wandering eye – or least had that reputation. Bill brought up an interesting question about Bud’s possible feelings toward Marie. That Bud was now in a relationship with Marie’s daughter – even though she was ten years older or so than her mother was when she died - might just validate that question in the minds of some people.

  No, as Jett watched Bill huff and puff his way up the steps he found himself convinced that the politician was in the process of attempting to discredit Bud and his motives for bringing up Marie’s death. And if Bill felt the need to do so, the question had to be asked, why?

  ***

  Matt attempted to focus on the Law and Legal Education lecture by Dr. Tide. His mind kept wandering back to the disturbing dream Linda Sue told him about earlier. He knew it was just a dream but he also knew it had shaken her to her very core.

  Matt replayed the description over and over in his mind. What could it possibly mean? Why would anyone want Linda Sue dead and what would trigger such a dream?

  She talked about how realistic it had been. Matt could relate. The dream he had with the crazy lady that kept screaming had been so realistic as well.

  His own dream had been odd enough but her odd dream topped his in every way. He knew she was worried even though she attempted to downplay it. As soon as her last class ended Matt decided he would pick her up and spend as much time as needed to settle her nerves – and possibly his own as well.

  ***

  Dan heard his cell phone alerting him that he had a text message. His heart nearly skipped a beat when he saw the words from Maggie. He immediately pressed her speed dial number and waited for her to answer.

  “Danny?” She asked.

  He could tell her voice was shaky with that single word.

  “What’s wrong Maggie?” Dan asked, unable to conceal the worry in his voice.

  “I...uh...well, I feel kind of silly now,” she said.

  “What is it? Something’s wrong - I can hear it in your voice,” Dan said, still worried.