Earthcrack: A Lin Hanna Mystery (42 page)

Billy continued, “ I’m sorry but, we have
not yet succeeded in finding out exactly who attacked you at Sue’s place.
 
I think Sessions will probably tell us
when we confront him with actual murder charges—which will hopefully
happen soon.
 
I expect he hired some
local thug to carry out that deed.”

Lin still had more questions…”What about
the pottery?
 
Michael wanted to find
it for his family—to restore honor and make things right.”

Danielle responded, “ We think he was on
the right track—possibly Cullen had hidden the pottery beneath that old
ruined wall.
 
We have some of the
park archeologist’s out there right now looking for it.
 
If they can find it, it will be
evaluated and preserved for the tribe and for the community to enjoy.”

Lin felt a deep sense of relief and
satisfaction.
 
Things were going to
work out for Michael and his family—she felt sure that Michael had turned
the corner his uncle was hoping for.
 
He would soon be on the right path.
 
She found herself feeling very sleepy again—the pain meds were
probably working.

Sue Gray noticed Lin’s eyes closing and
spoke up. “ I think we should let Lin rest now.
 
We can talk more later,” she moved
toward the door and the others got up to leave—all except Neal.

“I’m going to stay,” he said.
 
As the others departed, Neal carefully
lowered the head of her bed.
 
He
dimmed the lights in the room and pulled a chair next to her.
 
Gently he placed her left hand in his—IV
and all. “You rest now,” he said quietly, “I’ll be right here.”

Lin wanted to talk more.
 
She wanted to ask about his sharing information
with Billy—about what he had decided and what was going to happen to him
but her tired, battered body won out and she couldn’t focus her attention
enough to ask anything.
 
As she
drifted off into sleep, she thought.
 
All that can wait.
 
It’s
enough that he is here with me now—and I feel safe.

Lin’s recovery continued along a
relatively smooth course.
 
Her ankle
healed fairly quickly and her bruises were fading.
 
Her headaches continued to recur from
time to time—after all she had endured a second concussion—but,
they became less frequent as time passed.

Dr. Barnes performed surgery on her
battered shoulder before she left the hospital—that extended her stay
several days. Before the surgery took place, Lin’s son and daughter flew out
from the east to be with her—unfortunately, her grandkids had to remain
at home as school was still in session.
 
Lin insisted that she still wanted them to visit as soon as possible
when their summer vacation began.

“Are you sure you want to stay here all
summer?” Lin’s son Ben, Jr. asked, “I thought maybe you would want us to take
you back home.”

Lin insisted that she planned to
stay.
 
After all, her volunteer
stint had just begun. Danielle was willing to work with her—she might
even extend her stay into the fall—she hadn’t even had time to do all the
things she had planned anyway.

Somewhat reluctantly, her kids agreed
that it was her decision.
 
Perhaps
it would be better for Dr. Barnes to continue her follow up care, anyway.
 
They insisted on postponing the
grandkids visit until he gave the ok—and Lin realized that might be best.
 
There would be plenty of time for the
visit later in the summer.
 

Neal met both Ben, Jr. and Lucy while Lin
was in surgery.
 
Later she
introduced him simply as a friend with no further details, but she suspected
they realized that there was more to their growing relationship.
  
This was confirmed, when the two
of them were getting ready to leave the following day. Lucy leaned close to her
as she was saying goodbye and whispered in her ear—“I like Neal,
Mom.
 
Ben does too, I think… even if
he won’t admit it!”
 
Lin returned
Lucy’s smile.

“You two travel safely, “ she said, “thanks
for coming.
 
I’ll stay in touch and
let you know when Dr. Barnes has released me so the kids can come for their
visit.” Neal was there and stepped forward to shake Ben Jr’s offered hand.
 
“I’ll take care of her,” he insisted, “I’ll
make her follow doctor’s orders!” he gave her a knowing look.

“You, do that,” Lucy grinned, “we know
our Mom!”

When they left, Neal settled down into
the chair opposite her bed.
 
Dr.
Barnes had been in earlier and indicated that she could be discharged the
following day, provided she would stay with Sue for at least two weeks.
 
At that point, he felt she could begin
routine physical therapy and could return to Wupatki and her volunteer status,
at least on a limited basis.

“I like your kids,” Neal smiled at her. “Ben,
Jr. is a fine fellow.
 
Lucy has her
Mom’s charming personality—and she’s almost as good looking,” he joked.

Lin smiled at him but her thoughts were
troubled.
 
At no point during the
week since she had been injured had he talked about what had transpired between
him and Billy Taylor.
 
All she knew
was that his information had helped to make a case against John Sessions.
 
There had been people around all week—Sue,
Billy, Danielle, Toby , her kids, even Michael and Sophie had come in.
 
Michael was recovering well.
 
He had been discharged the previous
day.
 
Now she and Neal were alone
and it was time for her to find out the rest of his story.
 
She took a deep breath, pushed herself
into as comfortable a position as she could manage, and jumped in.

“OK, Dr. Smith,” she began, “everyone is
gone now—it’s just you and me.
 
What did you do—how did you approach Billy Taylor with your
information about Cullen and John Sessions? What happened and what is going to
be the result—for you that is?” She felt a bit of anxiety as she waited
to hear his answer but she had to know.

Neal pulled his chair closer to her
bedside. “It’s going to be ok,” he said. “I consulted an attorney—Mike
Bates, a friend of mine—he arranged for me to talk to Billy—with
him in attendance also.
 
That was
right after you were hurt—the first time.”

Lin remembered his saying he was going to
do something about his situation—that day.

Neal continued, “ We made an agreement
that, since the original deal was never consummated, and nothing had ever been
taken or sold, no charges would be brought against me, if I gave them
information to use in their investigation of John. That was, of course, before
any of us had any reason to suspect him in the murder case. By that time, I was
convinced John was into this black market art thing more deeply than I had
originally thought, so I felt I had to talk to the authorities.
 
Anyway, that is basically all there is
to the story.
 
John is under arrest
and, frankly, the art theft is the least of his worries now—and I am well
out of any such dealings—forever!” he added.

Lin smiled at him but pressed on, “What
about the university?
 
What did they
say?” She felt a bit uneasy when she saw the expression on Neal’s face but she
had to know.

“That’s a bit more complicated, I’m
afraid,” he responded. “They can’t afford to have the department associated
with any black market dealings—even if they never were actually carried
out.
 
They have placed me on
administrative leave for the remainder of this term—and for the fall semester—but
they have agreed to issue no statements regarding why and nothing will be
placed in my personnel file.
 
They
have indicated that I can return next spring with no further consequences—provided
I keep my nose clean!”
 
He smiled as
he gently stroked Lin’s free hand.
 
“I’m
not sure what I will decide at this point—you do realize that I am old
enough to retire if I choose!”

Lin smiled and nodded, “I’m already
retired, you know, and I have some good ideas about how you can spend some of
your newly found free time for the next few months!”

“So, do I,” Neal smiled, leaning forward
to plant a warm kiss on her forehead, “So, do I!”

Sharon Canipe is a retired school
administrator who most enjoys reading and travel.
 
She was inspired by her experience as a
volunteer with the National Park Service and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife service
to write mysteries set in various locations that she has visited and
enjoyed.
 
Hopefully readers will
also enjoy these adventures!
 
Sharon
and her husband Steve split their time between homes in North Carolina and
Arizona.
 
They enjoy traveling to
various locations within the U.S. and also to international destinations.
 
The first two books in the Lin Hanna
mystery series are set in the beautiful states they call home.

Watch for the second in this series of mysteries coming
soon.
 
A preview of this intriguing
tale follows.
 
Lin’s desire to help
the family of a young woman falsely accused of murder leads her once again into
a world of crime and intrigue. Among the drifting sand dunes and maritime
forests of North Carolina’s Outer Banks, Lin finds that a peaceful family
holiday becomes a dangerous adventure!

November , 2000

Liz Frazier
let the door to Tim’s bar slam behind her stumbling awkwardly as she went down
the steps.
 
She was angry that Tim
had taken her car keys from her claiming that she was too drunk to drive home.

“You’ll get
caught,” Tim had insisted, “ Don’t need a DUI.
 
Go on and walk.
 
It ain’t far and besides the air might
do you good, sober you up a bit.
 
Carrying on with all your crazy talk—some of these yokels will
knock you senseless for that so-called treasure of yours—if it’s real!”

Tim’s doubting
her story sent Liz into a rage causing Tim to grab her keys and shove her more
or less gently out the door.
 
Now
she stumbled lazily through the sandy parking lot heading toward the highway
and the dirt road on the other side that led to her small frame house.
 
It was really just a short walk and maybe
she could work off some of her anger. She’d show them all—thinking she
was lying about finding the diamond jewelry.
 

The stiff
ocean breeze hit Liz in the face as she walked down the highway’s edge to the
dirt road.
 
It felt good and seemed
to clear her head a bit.
 
Maybe she
had drunk too much to drive home—whatever, Tim would take care of her
car—battered old heap that it was.
 
She could get her keys tomorrow.
 
Tomorrow would be a better day.
 
Tomorrow she would take her treasure to town and find someone to
appraise it and tell her what it was really worth.
 
That was what her friend Billy at Island
Pawn had told her to do—said it was really good stuff—too rich for
his blood.
 
Liz trusted Billy.
 
He always helped her out with her
treasure hunting finds—a lost watch or ring here and there, sometimes a
piece of silver flatware off a fancy wreck but he refused to touch this stuff
saying it was far too valuable for his small pawn shop.

Liz’s
sometimes boyfriend, Mark, had also looked at the jewelry.
 
Liz could still recall the greedy look
in his eye when he offered to take it back to his art gallery in Manteo and do
some research for her.
 
He thought
it might be worth about twenty-five thousand, give or take, but something about
the way he said this made alarms go off in Liz’s head and she refused to let
him take the stuff back with him at that time.
 
“I’ll bring it in myself,” she told him,
 
“maybe we can go together to one of your
Jeweler friends and have him look at it.”
 
Liz knew that Mark dealt mostly in art objects so what did he really
know about the value of this jewelry?
 

As she
approached the end of the road where her house was located, she thought to
herself; that’s exactly what I will do—tomorrow.
 
Mark might not be a jeweler but he did
know a lot of other businessmen in Manteo where his own shop was located.
 
That was probably what he had planned to
do anyway; maybe she shouldn’t have been so distrustful.
 
Anyway, tomorrow would be soon enough.
 
She would call Mark first thing in the
morning and make the arrangements.
 
He probably wouldn’t want her to come to town, fearful that his wife
might find out about her but Liz didn’t care.
 
She was tired of just being his “beach
playgirl.”
 
Let him worry about his
reputation.
 
She had every right to
show up in town anyway!

Rounding the
curve through the dark pine trees that grew thickly around her own small home,
Liz saw what she thought might be a light in one of her back rooms.
 
That’s strange, she thought, I know I turned
all the lights off when I left.
 
Maybe Dorrie has come home.
 
A brief feeling of panic moved through her body and she felt herself
sobering as she quickened her step.

Dorrie had
seen that jewelry too, Liz thought.
 
I showed it to her when I first found it after last week’s storm
uncovered that old wreck of a yacht.
 
Liz recalled the wide-eyed stare Dorrie had when she saw the shiny
pendant, ring, and earrings in the small tin box where they had been sealed for,
most likely, decades.
 

 
Dorrie had been gone for a couple of
days—probably on a bender.
 
The young college dropout kept promising to stop her partying and go
back to school but nothing had happened so far.
 
Would Dorrie come back to steal her
find?
 
Liz didn’t think so but then one
never knew.
 
Liz
 
 
knew Dorrie was broke—at least she
owed her two- month’s rent money.

 
Liz stepped up her pace toward the house,
inwardly cursing herself for her own loose tongue and her drunken bragging to
others about how she was going to get money and use it to do something with her
sorry life.
 
She should have kept
her mouth shut—at least until she had found a safe place for her
find.
 
That had been Mark’s argument
for taking the jewelry to his store and locking it up for her.
 
Perhaps she had been foolish to distrust
him.

Now, thinking
much more clearly as she opened her own front door, Liz called out, “Dorrie, is
that you?
 
Where have you been?”

There was no
answer.
 
The house was totally quiet
and there was only one small light leaking from the door to the back
bedroom—Liz’s room.
 
She
carefully approached the bedroom door flicking the switch to illuminate the
living room as she went.
 
Calling
out for Dorrie once more, she cautiously pushed the bedroom door open.

A gloved hand
grabbed her from behind as she entered the room, grasping her firmly across the
mouth, stifling the scream that tried to come out.
 
She tried to slip away but her assailant
had a firm grasp on her head.
 
Liz
felt a knee in the small of her back and she was shoved face first to the
floor—her assailant landing full weight on her back, twisting her arm
behind her.
 
Again she tried to
scream—knowing full well there was no one close by to hear her.
 
This time a heavy object smashed into
the side of her head—momentarily stunning her.
 
Liz tried to shake off the blow.
 
She twisted violently trying to shift
the weight from her back and catch her breath.
 
Just as she thought she might be gaining
on her attacker she felt a sharp, stabbing pain between her shoulder
blades.
 
She could almost hear the air
seep from her lungs as she lost consciousness.
 
She was totally unaware of the warmth of
her blood gushing from the wound onto the pale gray carpet.

***

Deputy Pete
Midgett picked up the phone in his Manteo office.
 
It was after midnight, almost one a.m.
 
Couldn’t be anything good at that
hour!
 
The caller id indicated it
was the deputy out in Kill Devil Hills.
 
He probably had drunks fighting after the beach bars closed down.
 
Pete spoke sleepily, “Midgett here, what
do you need Mike?”

“Better get a team
out here,” Mike drawled. “Liz Frazier’s house is on fire and we think Liz might
be in it. Tim saw the blaze from across the highway and called it in.
 
Says Liz was so drunk he took her keys
and sent her walking home.
 
Looks
like she might have been smoking or something and started a fire.”

“Be there in a
few,” Pete responded, now wide-awake.
  
He quickly called the other deputy
on patrol to meet him out at Kill Devil Hills.
 
Gathering up a crime scene kit, just in
case, Pete headed for his patrol car, alerting the night dispatcher at the desk
as to his destination.

No need to
wake everybody up with lights and sirens Pete thought as he left town heading
for the Baum Bridge.
 
This is a fire;
whatever has happened has happened already.
 
Traffic was light enough given the late
hour.
 
His speeding toward the beach
on the mostly deserted highway was not really a concern.

Pete thought
about Liz Frazier as he crossed the moonlit sound toward the beach towns of the
Outer Banks.
 
A pretty girl, just
behind him in school, but Liz was always looking for the next party.
 
She had quite a reputation for taking up
with almost any man who would buy her dinner and drinks and, even though she
was no dummy, she seemed to never be able to find more than seasonal work at
the beach—waiting tables, cleaning motel rooms, and the like.
 
Spent most of her off time treasure
hunting, always dreaming of finding something really valuable from one of the
many wrecks that dotted the area and frequently were uncovered in the shifting
beach sands after storms.
 
Lots of
folks did that but most only earned a few hundred dollars a year selling what
they managed to salvage.

Looks like
this time Liz had had one drink too many and maybe had a terrible
accident.
 
Pete felt sorry at this
thought—he always liked Liz when they were growing up—but we reap
what we sow, he reasoned.

As he
approached the sandy road that led through the woods to the house where Liz
lived, Pete noticed a crowd of folks gathered at Tim’s bar across the
highway.
 
He pulled in.
 
Maybe some of these folks saw
something.
 
Better ask some
questions before they all left.

Pete quickly
spotted Tim the bar owner.
 
At more
than six feet tall and pushing three hundred pounds Tim was hard to miss.
 
Pete was a big guy himself.
 
The two of them had played football
together in high school.

“Hi Tim, you
call this in?” Pete asked.
 

“Sure did,”
Tim responded, pointing toward the slight glow visible through the woods on the
other side of the road. “Blaze looks like it’s almost out now but it was a
humdinger!
 
Heard a big “swoosh” and
there it was!
 
Had to be Liz’s
place,” Tim hesitated, his voice cracking, “…and I had just sent her
packing—made her walk home.
 
Her car is still right over there.”
 
Tim pointed to a battered old Ford at the end of the parking lot.

“I’m sure you
did the right thing Tim,” Pete was reassuring, “not to let her drive
drunk.
 
It was a short walk anyway.”

“I’m just
afraid she was in that house,” Tim said quietly. “ One group of firefighters
just left, said they didn’t see anyone outside and it was too hot to go in when
they arrived.”

Pete nodded,
“Well, I’m sure they’ll check when it cools a bit.”
 
They could hope that maybe she hadn’t
gone straight home but then, where else would she go at this late hour? Her
folks lived down in Nags Head; Pete remembered.

Noticing that
the crowd was beginning to break up and drift away, Pete hastily called to a
few of the onlookers.
 
He got some
names and phone numbers and asked what they had seen but no one had seen more
than the view of the fire through the woods—no cars coming from the dirt
road, no walkers other than Liz.
 
A
couple of the guys had seen her leave the bar apparently heading toward her
home.

“Liz was
pretty drunk,” one of the locals said. “ She was carrying on about finding some
jewelry in an old wreck—said she was going to get some real money for a
change.
 
Drunk as she was, that
might have been just braggin’ though”

Or it might
have been a good reason to rob her, Pete thought to himself.

Leaving the
bar, Pete headed down the dirt road toward the fire scene.
 
There were still a few flames coming
from the back of the house but the roof was already partially caved in.
 
The small place was definitely a total
loss, Pete thought.
 
If Liz was in
there… he didn’t finish his own thought.

The remaining
fire crew was busy dousing the few flames at the back.
 
One of the crew was talking to Mike, the
deputy who had called for Pete.
 
As
Pete approached them, he noticed another patrol car pulling in.
 
That was probably Jerry, the deputy he
had called to meet him there.

“It’ll be
morning before this mess is really cooled enough to sort through,” the fire
team captain was saying.
 
It was
Dick Taylor, another of Pete’s school classmates. “Hi Pete,” he greeted the
deputy, “ I hate to say it but we’re pretty sure there’s a body in the back
bedroom.
 
Hard to see but looks that
way.”

Pete nodded
soberly, “Was Liz alone here, sometimes she had boarders?”

Mike spoke up,
“I think she was mostly alone these days.
 
I saw her earlier today and she was complaining that her latest boarder,
Dorrie Jacobs, had been gone for a couple of days.
 
Said she hoped Dorrie would be back
soon, she owed her some rent money it seems.”