Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows (88 page)

Sandy yanked back on the line. “Get the net, Junior,” she shouted. “I've hooked a monster."

Leora watched Sandy work the struggling fish close to the pier.

Junior netted it and held it aloft with both hands. “It's a beaut, mommy."

“I believe that's the biggest bass we've caught in this pond. What do you think, son? Shall we keep him?"

“If you want to clean and cook it,” he grinned.

“Turn him loose,” Sandra laughed.

“Do you have a photograph of Mr. Ascue?” Leora asked.

“Afraid not,” Sandra said as she baited her hook. “Mr. Ascue is terribly camera shy. Leora, you're barking up the wrong tree."

“Does Mr. Ascue live on the premises?"

Sandra laughed as she cast her hook into the pond. “You're not going to give up, are you Leora?"

“It's all we have to go on right now, Sandy."

“Yes, Mr. Ascue lives in the house. He uses two bedrooms at the end of the second floor. He fixed one up as a den. It stinks,” she laughed. “I think he occasionally smokes something in his pipe other than tobacco."

“Do you think maybe we could just take a peek?"

“Leora, how would you like for a stranger to search your bedroom?"

Leora sighed and stood up. “You're right,” she said. “Even if we found anything, it would be inadmissible in a court of law because the search would be illegal."

“I'm afraid you're on a wild goose chase, Leora. Before you go, I'm curious as to what motive you think Mr. Ascue might have for trying to kill Sam."

“Like you and Borders say, I suppose I write too many murder mysteries. Shelly is a very sexy looking woman. I thought maybe she turned Mr. Ascue on but rejected his advances. Maybe he sought revenge."

“You think he meant to kill Shelly and shot Sam by mistake?"

“You'll have to forgive me Sandy. I'm an old woman with too much time on her hands.” Leora picked up her purse and paused. “I assume Mr. Ascue was at home the night of the assault."

“When was it?"

“A week ago tomorrow."

Sandra's expression suddenly became very serious. “Last Saturday night?"

Leora nodded.

“Mr. Ascue took the weekend off. He went to Atlanta to visit his parents. It was their wedding anniversary, I think."

The women locked eyes. Sandra stood and handed her rod to Junior. “Leora, it's probably just a coincidence."

“Probably."

“Would a photograph help?"

“It might convince Borders that my theory is worth investigating."

“I'll find a way to get a Polaroid shot of Mr. Ascue when he gets back."

“You old goat, when are you coming home?” Leora asked, recognizing Border's voice on the telephone.

“Tomorrow afternoon, Leora. Mariah wants to meet with me in the morning and then I'll be on my way."

She moved the telephone to the bed. “Are you sitting down, Julius?"

“I am now. What's up?"

“I showed Sandra Dollar a newspaper photo of Fisher. She says Fisher and her butler look very much alike. And get this, Borders. The butler—Ron Ascue—was allegedly visiting his parents in Atlanta on the night of the attack. He's the culprit, Borders. I know he is. If we can get a search warrant, I know we'll find some incriminating evidence in his quarters."

Borders was silent for a moment. “Leora, if this guy's alibi doesn't hold up, I think Bud could get a search warrant, but there are two major problems."

“I'm listening."

“In the first place, whoever shot Sam was very careful. He completely covered his body with dark clothing and a ski mask and wore surgical gloves, leaving no fingerprints on the handgun or in Shelly's Escort. Even if it was the butler, there is little likelihood of him getting careless and leaving evidence in his room."

“There's always a chance, Borders."

“There's more. Shelly has confessed."

“I know she confessed, Borders, but she claims they both backed out at the last minute."

“Not anymore. She had a psychiatric evaluation this morning, Leora. She's suffering from PTSD."

“What's that?"

“Post traumatic stress disorder. She's emotionally traumatized, but she knows the difference between right and wrong and she knows what happened last Saturday night on the beach."

“She's changed her story again?"

“Mariah and I met with her shortly after the psychiatric evaluation. She kept saying that the Philistines must pay for their sins. She refuses to cooperate with her attorney. This afternoon, with Mariah present, Shelly accepted a deal with the county DA."

“What kind of deal?"

“In exchange for a light sentence, she agreed to confess her part in the crime and testify against Boyd."

“There is no evidence, Borders."

“There's the email messages, the large life insurance policy, her identification of Boyd, and Mr. Boyd Fisher has no alibi for that night. He claims he was at home drinking and watching TV. The DA thinks it's enough for a conviction."

“Borders, she's not guilty. Sandy sneaked a Polaroid shot of Ascue and brought it to me tonight. The resemblance is uncanny. You'll see when you get home. She slipped a beer can out of his car too, in case you need his fingerprints."

“My God. Now I have two female amateurs to contend with. Goodnight, Leora."

“If you see Shelly tomorrow, tell her I agree that Sam is alert. Tell her I kissed his eyelid this morning and felt it move."

“I'll tell her. Goodnight, sweetheart."

“Goodnight you old goat."

“I love you."

She hung up without responding.

Dear Sam,

I love you, but how can I ever expect you to believe me? The Philistines made me do it, but I don't want their silver. They are going to pay in another way, Sam. They're going to prison for a long, long time. I told the authorities what they did to Samson and how they used Delilah to achieve their evil goal. They won't get away with it Sam, because I love you and I'm going to make them pay.

I'm in jail, Sam, and I, too, will go to prison for a few years. I deserve punishment. This morning they took me to see a shrink. I could see the ocean from his office. It's so beautiful, Sam. I hope one day you, Annie and I can see it again together. I love you so much, Sam.

You may not want to see me again. If that's true, I understand and I know you'll take good care of Annie. But if you'll give me a second chance, I'll make it up to you. I'll cook and clean and wash clothes and plant flowers and work somewhere to support us. Delilah Delight will perform for you every day. I'll make you the happiest man who ever lived. My Samson is not going to die a miserable death in the rubble of some pagan temple. My Samson will be king and I will be his loyal servant.

I love you, Sam.

Delilah

Nurse Finnigan plopped heavily into the chair in front of the console and sighed.

“Everything okay?” the orderly asked.

Finnigan nodded. “I made the rounds. Everyone seems to be sleeping soundly."

“If it's okay with you, I think I'll slip out for a smoke."

“Don't stay long,” she answered wearily. “I need someone to keep me awake tonight."

She grinned. “Just made a new pot of coffee—extra strong, just the way you like it."

“Thanks, Sabrina,” Finnigan said, planting her hands on the arms of the chair and pushing herself erect. She poured a cup of the strong brew, dropped in a lump of sugar and glanced at the clock. Three-thirty. Can I make it ’til six? She picked up yesterday's newspaper, opened it to the crossword puzzle and returned to the chair.

Let's see now, she thought. One across—six-letter word that means “say yes.” Hmm. She filled in the blanks with “accede.” One down—five-letter word for “garner.” Hmm. She shrugged her shoulders. Two down—five-letter word for “West Pointer.” Uh—cadet maybe?

A light flashed on the console. “I knew it was too quiet to last,” she said aloud, tossing the puzzle on the desk. She pushed the intercom button. “What do you want, 396?” There was no reply.

She stood, sipped the coffee and her eyes popped open. She double-checked the console. “It is 396—that's Mr. Pond's room!"

She rushed around the counter, burst into his room and snapped on a dim light. “What is it Mr. Pond?"

He held the ivory colored control in his right hand, rolled his head towards her and uttered an unintelligible reply. His coal-black eyes begged for assistance.

“I ... I don't understand."

He pushed the sheet down as far as his reach would allow.

Nurse Finnigan pulled the sheet to his knees. His fingers did not seem to work but he moved his arm so that his hand rested between his legs.

She pushed up the nightshirt. “The catheter? Is it bothering you?"

“Uhhh,” he groaned while slightly nodding his head.

“Do you need to urinate and it's painful?"

Sam continued to nod his head affirmatively.

She cranked up the bed, rushed to the bathroom and returned with a bedpan. She placed her hands on the inside of his thighs and paused. “Can you open your legs a little for me?"

The left leg remained motionless, but the right leg inched towards the edge of the mattress.

Finnigan positioned the bedpan. “This may hurt a little, Mr. Pond."

With a practiced move, she jerked away the catheter. Sam clinched his teeth and groaned.

“It's going to hurt when you urinate, Mr. Pond, but go ahead and try."

She watched his grimace turn into a relaxed smile. She picked up his right hand and pressed it against her moist cheek. “Welcome back, Mr. Pond."

Hospitals always stink of disinfectant, Leora thought as she stepped out of the elevator. She walked towards Sam's room, hoping that her visits brightened his day but dreading the sight of her helpless neighbor.

“Mrs. Borders,” Jane Poindexter exclaimed as she rushed from behind the nurses’ station. “Have I got a surprise for you!"

Leora's eyes sparkled. “Sam's better?"

Poindexter clasped Leora's hands while nodding vigorously. “He is definitely awake. His left side is still completely paralyzed and he hasn't regained the use of his voice or the fingers on his right hand, but he is awake and alert."

“Is this it or can we expect more improvement?"

“Only time will tell."

Sam smiled as Leora entered his room. “Uhhh."

“Good morning neighbor! Sam, we've all been so worried."

“Uhhh uhhh."

“You too?” Leora laughed.

He nodded. “Neee?"

She moved to the side of his bed. “Does your knee hurt?"

He frowned. “Neee?” he repeated.

“I'm sorry, Sam. I don't understand."

“Earl ... Neee."

Leora juggled his grunts in her mind—earl, pearl, whirl, girl. “Girl! Is that it, Sam? You're asking about Annie?"

He smiled.

“She's fine, Sam. She's staying with us now."

“Know."

Leora smiled. “You understood me yesterday, didn't you?"

He continued to smile as he nodded.

“Annie misses you and Shelly, but she's eating good and seems happy enough. Jo is babysitting this morning. When I left the house they were all playing in the sandbox in the backyard."

“Shee?"

“Shelly?"

He nodded.

“I didn't talk with her last night, but as I told you yesterday, Borders is at the beach right now. He called last night and said Shelly is fine."

“No."

“No?"

“Ale?"

“I don't understand, Sam."

“Ale? Shee ale?"

“You're asking something about Shelly?"

He nodded. “Ale?"

“Ale, gale, fail, jail, tail..."

“Uhhh."

“Tail?"

He shook his head.

Leora looked into his moist eyes. “You know, don't you?"

He nodded as the tears slipped down his cheeks.

Leora pulled a chair close to the bed and eased into it. “Yes, Sam. Shelly is in jail at Myrtle Beach. The police think she had something to do with the robbery and your shooting. They think Shelly tried to kill you for the insurance money."

“No!” he shouted. “An!"

“We know there was a man involved. They think it was Boyd Fisher—Shelly's old boyfriend—Annie's father."

“No!” His body began to shake.

“Please, Sam. Calm down. You're frightening me."

“An! Egg dadoo."

“You're trying to tell me something about the man who attacked you?"

His eyes pleaded with her for understanding. “Ape. Egg dadoo."

“The man looked like an ape? He was hairy?"

Sam shook his head. “No! Ape.” He moved his right hand between his legs. “Ape."

“Rape?"

He smiled and nodded.

“You saw something when the man tried to rape Shelly?"

He nodded again. “Egg dadoo."

“Okay. Let's work on the first word. You're not talking about an egg, are you?"

“No!” he said shaking his head. He moved his hand to his right thigh. “Egg."

“Leg? When the man tried to rape Shelly you saw something unusual about his leg?"

“Uhhh,” he said, smiling.

“Which leg, Sam?"

He slowly moved his right hand to his left thigh.

“There's something unusual about the man's left leg?"

He nodded. “Dadoo! Dadoo! Dadoo!"

“Excuse me, Mrs. Borders."

Leora jerked her head in the direction of the sound.

Jane Poindexter smiled apologetically. “You'll have to leave now, I'm afraid. The doctors want to work with Mr. Pond a little."

Leora looked at the two stern-faced physicians. “Of course,” she said, standing.

“Dadoo!” Sam shouted. “Egg dadoo!"

Leora stroked his arm. “I'll work on it, Sam. I'll figure it out. I'm good at word games. Sam, you don't think Shelly had anything to do with it, do you?"

“No!” he said, shaking his head furiously. “Egg dadoo!"

“Borders and I agree with you. That's why he is in Myrtle Beach. Try not to worry, dear. We'll get this mess straightened out somehow."

As she walked to the door, he again cried out, “Egg dadoo!"

Entering the hallway, she saw Detective Cranfield propped against the nurses’ station counter. He smiled as she approached.

“Isn't it wonderful?” Leora said in greeting.