Fixin' To Die (A Kenni Lowry Mystery Book 1) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Someone had wanted to make sure Doc was dead.

“Oh, Sheriff.” Wyatt let out an audible groan and slouched against the wall. He and Doc Walton were friends and I was sure it affected him on more of a personal level.

The darkness of the situation pressed down on us. My heart sank.

Doc Walton lay face down in a pool of blood. His cane was clear across the other side of the room. The blood surrounding him was a deep crimson and looked to have settled, causing me to believe he’d been there for a few hours.

The walls and floor were splattered with blood. The ticking of the second hand on the clock hanging on the wall was the only sound in the room. A veil of death curled around us as we both stood silent, sending a private prayer Doc’s way.

It was still so early. I certainly wouldn’t have thought Doc was open for patients at seven a.m., though he was dressed and had on his white lab coat and blue latex gloves.

I walked around his body, noticing little beads of mercury all over the floor from a broken thermometer. Small shards of glass glistened on the tile floor quite a bit away from Doc’s body.

There appeared to be stab wounds on his neck, his back, and his arms. I got a good look at the ones on his neck. Whoever did this was making sure Doc Walton wasn’t going to see any more patients. Ever.

I glanced around the room to see if there was a murder weapon or something that would’ve created the stab wounds, but nothing was visible. I crouched down and looked underneath the patient exam tables, chairs, and cabinets. There was nothing.

“Looks like somebody did him in good.” Wyatt stood a little ways back from me.

“I’ve got it taken care of here.” My hand gripped my bag. “Why don’t you go on back into the office and stay with Toots? Make sure she doesn’t wander around the crime scene.”

Wyatt let out a heavy sigh. He wasn’t used to taking orders from me. He’d been jailer as far back as I could remember.

I squatted down and took a look at the mercury beads all over the floor and was careful not to step on any.

Take an evidence sample.

“What did you say?” I looked over my shoulder at Wyatt.

“I didn’t say anything.” His brows drew together.

“We need to collect a few of these as evidence,” I said under my breath, wondering if I had actually heard my own thoughts. There was no other explanation.

There was a protocol I had learned in the police academy when it came to a murder case, and since this was my first one, I wanted to make sure I covered all the bases.

I took my pen out of my pocket and pushed one of the mercury balls, watching it explode into tinier silver balls. I took out another evidence marker and placed it on the floor.

I put more markers next to Doc’s cane, a couple more on blood splatters, and one more near the broken thermometer.

“Who’s our guy?” A man’s voice came from the direction of the door.

“Depends on who wants to know.”

I stood up and looked at the man in the light gray suit with his black hair neatly parted to the side. He had a pair of the booties covering his shoes.

He reached in the pocket of his fancy jacket and flipped out a badge. He took a couple steps into the room, not taking his eye off Doc’s body.

“Finn Vincent with the Kentucky State Reserve.” He walked over and stood next to me. “They sent me here to assist in the investigation.”

“That was fast.” I looked up at Doc’s clock. “I just told my dispatch to call you guys in.”

“I was in the next county over working with a crime over there.” He glanced around the room. “Murder takes precedence over break-ins, I guess,” he joked.

“Sheriff Lowry.” I peeled my gloves off and stuck my hand out, giving him a nice firm handshake. “I appreciate all your help. First thing you can do is ask for Doc Walton’s appointment book from the receptionist. We need to gather a list of patients and see if he had any appointments this morning. Without a motive or weapon, we need to eliminate each and every patient to narrow down a suspect list.”

At this point, everyone was a suspect in my book. Including Toots and Sterling.

“He saw patients here?” Finn asked.

“Long story, but he had a fender bender a while back and had to retake the road test again because of his age. He didn’t pass, so his license was revoked, but he could have retried in six months. He was still a good doctor and passed the test to keep his medical license, so he just moved his office here.” I kept my eyes on him, studying his reaction.

“I’ll go find that appointment book.” He stepped outside the door but turned back around. “Would you like me to address the crowd outside first?”

“Crowd?” I asked.

“Yeah. It seems like your entire town is out there waiting for someone to come out and talk to them.” He shrugged.

I followed behind him down the hall and took a look out the window. I shouldn’t have been surprised. News traveled fast in small towns, especially ours.

“I’ll go do it, Sheriff.”

Wyatt walked past me and nodded his head toward Finn. They gave each other the good ole boys look.

“I’ll take care of it, Wyatt. You stay here and continue to look for the weapon.”

The last thing I wanted was for the town to think I was passing the ball to Wyatt. There had already been talk around town that I wasn’t going to run unopposed in the next election. Plus, it wasn’t a secret that some folks weren’t too keen on having a woman as sheriff, but I’d have to say I’d been doing a fine job so far. I was up for re-election in two years, but politicking in small towns started two years before the actual election. I wasn’t ready to give up my job, so I’d better make sure I was meeting the public’s needs now.

“Are you ready?” Finn asked, his hand on the front door handle.

“As I’ll ever be.” My lips formed a thin line, trying to smile the best I could.

Finn was right. When he opened the door, it looked like the entire town had gathered on Doc’s front lawn. They emitted a collective gasp and watched as I stepped out on the porch.

The morning was drying off; the rain had stopped. The tree branches bobbed as the wind flew across the yard, sending droplets of rain onto the crowd below.

“If I can have everyone’s attention.” I put my hands in the air. “I’m sure you’ve all heard that Doctor Ronald Walton was found deceased in his home this morning. I do not have any information on how he died, but we are treating it as a homicide at this time. There is no cause for alarm for the community. I assure you the sheriff’s department has everything under control and I will keep you abreast of any and all information as I learn it. You can all go home.”

Pretty pleased with my impromptu speech, I turned to go inside when I heard the raspy voice call out to me. I turned back around on instinct.

“Yoohoo!” Edna Easterly from the
Cottonwood Chronicles
scurried her way up past the crowd. A walking cliché, her brown fedora with a red polka dot ribbon around the rim sat cockeyed on her head; a big feather on the side had big globs of dried glue from a hot glue gun and a piece of paper with “reporter” written in green Sharpie marker was stuck in the front. “Sheriff Lowry!”

“Not now, Edna.” My eyes lowered. “When I have more information, I’ll be sure to release it to the public.”

“How do you plan on handling this since Lonnie Lemar retired? Seems you are short a deputy. Your only deputy.” She put her pen back on her paper ready to document my answer. “If you are here, who is going to keep the rest of Cottonwood safe?”

“This is Finn Vincent of the Kentucky Reserve Unit.” I gestured toward Finn. He stood with his hands clasped in front of him. “He is here to assist until we figure out what we are going to do about filling that deputy position.”

Edna’s brows furrowed. “And exactly how will you be assisting?” Edna wasn’t going to let the questions stop there, but I was.

“Thank you, Edna.” I smiled politely. “We will let you know when we have further information.”

“Is there a killer among us?” she yelled out.

I turned and headed back into the house, hoping that when I came back out the crowd would be gone, along with Edna Easterly.

“I can’t believe we have a serial killer in Cottonwood.” Toots began to sob all over again.

“Whoa.” I put my hands out. “Who said anything about a serial killer?”

Toots let out a little sniff and shrugged.

“Let’s not go packing tales where there is no tale to pack.” The last thing I needed was a town full of gun-carrying people looking for a reason to shoot someone. I pointed to the stack of files. “Does your desk always look like this?”

“No.” Toots shook her head. “It was like this when I got here. Sterling was outside in shock. The look on his face is forever stained on my brain.” She sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out as if she were calming herself. Her voice quivered. “I asked him what was wrong and he could only point. When I came in, I saw this and ran back to Doc. Then I called Betty. Now here you are.”

I pulled the notepad and pen from the breast pocket on my shirt and flipped it open.

“Is this like one of them formal statements you see on the TV?” she asked, curling up on her toes to get a look at my notepad.

“I’m just making notes,” I said to Toots, scribbling her recollection of her morning events.

I turned toward Finn. “Can you ask the gentleman in the Henley shirt on the porch to come inside?” There was no need for Sterling Stinnett to hang around. I’d get him questioned and get him on his way.

Finn walked to the door and did what I asked, coming back in with Sterling trailing behind him.

“Sterling.” I waved him over. “Did you have an early appointment with Doctor Walton?”

“Nah.” He shook his head. “I needed a refill on my blood pressure prescription and Doc told me to come on out when I needed it filled. I like to get here early so I can beat the heat since I have to walk.”

Sterling Stinnett was sort of a drifter around Cottonwood. He had a small cement-block home with the bare necessities to live. He did odd jobs for homebuilders and some grass-cutting for the elderly.

“I knocked on the door. He usually greets me with a cup of hot coffee, but not today.” He looked down at his boots and scuffed his toe on the floor. He said in a low voice, “After a few minutes, I let myself in and hollered for him.”

“What time was it?” I asked, wondering how much earlier he’d gotten there before Toots.

“It was about ten minutes before Toots showed up. I was outside getting sick to my stomach after I saw Doc lying there in all that blood.”

His eyes drooped, his face hollow.

“Did you touch anything while you were in here?” I asked.

“I called out his name to see if he would respond.” He shook his head. “When he didn’t, I walked over and bent down over him. That’s when I saw all them puncture marks in his neck and I knew he was dead.”

“I’m going to need you to come down to the station and give a statement for the record and get some fingerprints taken,” I told Sterling. “Maybe Wyatt can give you a ride. You can wait outside and I’ll ask him.”

Sterling hung his head and walked out the door. I had more questions for Toots.

“What time did you get here?” I asked Toots, trying to establish a timeline.

“It was around six forty-five.” She nodded her head as though she was confirming it to herself. “Yes. Six forty-five.”

“Do you always come to work this early?” I asked.

“Sometimes.” She shrugged. She bit her lip and looked off in the distance. I noticed her lack of eye contact.

“What do you mean by sometimes?” I wanted a clear answer.

“Doc never gives me a set time to be here. Appointments start around nine, but sometimes people are here earlier.”

“What’s your morning routine?” I asked her.

“Well, I come in and grab a cup of coffee, take a look at the appointment book, and pull their files. I put the files in Doc’s office, so they’re there when he’s ready.” Her voice faded.

“What does Doc usually do while you are getting ready for the appointments?” I continued to write everything she was telling me.

“He drinks his coffee and goes through the files as I give them to him. But sometimes patients just show up like we’re one of those Take Care Clinics or something.” She shook her head. “And Doc never turns anyone away. Turned,” she corrected her choice of words in a hushed whisper.

“Are the walk-ins added to the appointment book?” I asked, noting how this could be a crucial lead in the investigation.

“Sometimes I put them in, sometimes I don’t,” she said. “Depends on if they want to use insurance or some other type of payment.”

“Like?” I coaxed her to continue.

“Like pie, cookies.” She tilted her head and when she saw I wasn’t following, she said in a whisper, “Sometimes the Sweet Adelines pay him in fresh grown veggies, bread, and sweets.”

Inwardly I groaned at the word Toots seemed to love: “sometimes,” but my mouth watered when she mentioned the Sweet Adelines. The group of women were not only barbershop singers who performed around Cottonwood, they also had a garden club. If you were lucky enough, and if they really liked you, your pantry was stocked full of fresh or canned vegetables all year round.