The Butcher (Cold Hollow Mysteries Book 5) Page 4

  Ivan lay on the floor with his hands tucked behind his head. “Da.”

  Samuel frowned at him and left the room. When he did, Ivan imagined Boss Sam wanted to kiss his beloved Lucy goodnight. He let a chuckle slip and closed his eyes while remembering all the people he had met since arriving in town. He liked the Red Lady and could hardly wait to see the surprise she had in store for him in the morning. The blond girl at the tavern was so pretty and nice, but her father was someone to fear. Ivan knew it but had to admire the way Maurice handled Boss Sam. Both men were on an equal playing field. They both spoke with refinement; Ivan wished he could speak like them, but every time he opened his mouth, he sounded like a gutter rat. Adam, the man he’d had supper with, was patient with Ivan and a good man. Ivan enjoyed his company and hoped Boss Sam didn’t want Ivan to do anything bad to him; otherwise, Ivan and Boss Sam were going to have an argument. Ivan hated arguments because Boss Sam was slick of tongue and always got the better of him.

  CHAPTER 5

  The sounds of police sirens startled Myrna as she slid a pan of muffins into the oven at the bakery. Racing to the front door of the establishment and slipping into her boots, she stepped out onto the sidewalk to see two police cruisers at the bed and breakfast. The chief was there, along with Officer Cutler. They wore helmets and special suits. The workers were busy escorting sleepy guests from the building. She wiped the back of her hand over her forehead and frowned. The day was not starting out well, not well at all. She knew the chief would come blowing into the bakery, swearing and carrying on over one disaster or another. She got back to work.

  The bell atop the door rang, and Myrna peeked out to see Ivan standing at the counter. He was early, but she didn’t mind. She pointed to his table, rushed to her bag, and pulled out a children’s book of the alphabet, along with a simple children’s story. Donnie delivered Ivan his coffee and some baked goods. Myrna watched as Ivan scanned the alphabet book and mouthed the letters. Myrna said, “Ivan, say them aloud. No customers are here.” He did as she asked, and she corrected his pronunciation when it was necessary. She then sang him the alphabet song, so he could practice whenever he was alone and without the aid of a book. He sang it with her until she was satisfied he had it down. He smiled at each small leap he accomplished. She then displayed the storybook to him and read it as she held her finger beneath each word. She made him repeat the words as she moved along. When the bell atop the doors rang again, Myrna swiped the books off the table and placed them on her lap. She encouraged Ivan to eat his breakfast, and she skittered to the kitchen to put the books away.

  Samuel Whittier had entered the establishment and now sat with Ivan. “I have some unexpected errands to run, Ivan. I just wanted to let you know I will return a little later than expected to pick you up.”

  Ivan nodded. “Da.”

  Samuel huffed, disgusted with the man’s limited vocabulary, and pushed himself out of the chair and left the establishment as Donnie stood there, prepared to take his order. He shook his head and was startled as Ivan laughed. Ivan pointed at Donnie and said, “Be happy he gone!”

  Donnie nervously bobbed his head and said, “I am, Ivan.” He watched as Ivan continued eating his breakfast while humming the alphabet song.

  Myrna returned, carrying her coffee and breakfast, and sat across from Ivan again. As she ate, she asked, “Ivan, was he your boss?”

  “Da.”

  She commented, “He seemed to be in a hurry.”

  “Boss Sam has errands.”

  Myrna sighed and kept the conversation going. “I feel sad he lost his sister. Does he have a big family?”

  Ivan shook his head. “Nyet. Mama dead, Old Man dead, sister dead, now just Boss Sam.”

  “There are no other siblings?”

  “Ivan never saw. Keep Ivan dumb with…” He struggled to find the right word in his mind and said, “Whisper?”

  “Do you mean secrets?”

  Ivan pointed at her. “Da! Secrets.”

  Myrna smiled. “I enjoy teaching you English, Ivan. Will you be staying in town long?”

  Ivan shrugged. “Boss Sam say we stay till done.”

  “Done with what?”

  He shook his head and mumbled, “Secrets.”

  ***

  Samuel Whittier drove his Hummer to Bertrand Sweeney’s home and parked in front of it. He sat watching and could see Bertrand pacing his living room through the front window. Bertrand had glanced outside, and Samuel knew Bertrand knew he was there. When Samuel was satisfied, he drove his vehicle back to Main Street, parked it, and began running a few errands.

  Maurice dropped Delilah off at the photo shop and decided to take a brisk walk up the street to see what was happening at the bed and breakfast. He saw the building cordoned off and made his way there. All the guests were outside on the front lawn, wearing parkas, hats, and mittens. He stood before the structure and watched as Officer Cutler escorted one of the female guests down the walk. The woman hailed Maurice and shouted, “Sir! Sir, could you please do me a favor?”

  Maurice hesitated and glanced at Ted to see him nod. Maurice replied, “How may I be of assistance?”

  He watched the woman toss a set of keys to him. He caught them as she said, “My car is the navy BMW. I have a kit in the front seat containing my medication. I forgot to take it inside with me when I returned last evening. If you could retrieve it for me, I would be forever in your debt.”

  Maurice approached the vehicle. He saw the small medicine bag lying on the passenger seat, unlocked the door, retrieved it, and relocked the door. He walked to the tape and handed her the keys and her kit. She smiled at him, and he was taken aback by her beauty. Her hair was dark brown, and her eyes were the most wonderful shade of hazel he ever seen. He blushed and said, “It was my pleasure.”

  She extended a free hand out to him. “My name is Corrine Butler. And yours is?”

  “Maurice Gillette.”

  “Oh! Does your daughter run the tavern? I’ve heard nothing but great things about the place and planned on going there this evening. If it’s allowed.”

  She glanced at Ted Cutler, who replied, “If we wrap up the investigation by then, you should be able to go.”

  Maurice’s eyebrows rose. He wondered what had happened but felt assured Myrna would clue everyone in. He stared at Corrine and said, “If you are able to get away, then it would be my pleasure to buy you a drink, Corrine.” She blushed and bowed her head a bit as Ted rolled his eyes and escorted her back to her group of friends. Maurice turned and made his way back down Main Street. She was a vixen and slowly stealing his heart. He and Corrine had been dating since New Year’s Eve, and each time they inadvertently ran into each other in town, they pretended they didn’t know each other, so they could experience what he considered to be “love at first sight” over and again. She was good at the game.

  ***

  Delilah stood before the photo processing machine and watched the photos on the screen. She tapped on Big Lou’s favorite one, increased the size, and chose a frame for it. He’d insisted on a few framed prints for his cinema room. As she continued staring at the screen, she nearly screamed when someone whispered in her ear, “Hello, Delilah.”

  She jumped, and her purse tumbled from the counter to the floor, its contents spilling out. She crouched down and shoved the contents back inside as Samuel Whittier tried to assist her. He snatched a photo from her and stared at it. It was a photo of his sister with Maurice Gillette. He then spied Delilah’s purse and commented, “My sister adored that brand of purse. It’s ironic you both have similar tastes.” He waved the photo at her and asked, “And what had you planned to do with this?”

  She giggled and snatched the photo from his grasp, pleased he hadn’t seen the rest of them. “At the tavern, I’m designating a special photo wall of guests having a good time. Everyone is vying for a spot on the wall, and I thought your sister deserved a special place.” She paused. “Patricia knew how fond I was of her purse
and told me where she purchased it. I raced out after the holidays and was able to get an identical one.”

  He knew she was lying. Patricia’s initials were embossed inside the closure. It seemed to him the town was teeming with little thieves and liars, but he played along. He pointed at his sister’s photo and asked, “Could you print an extra one out for me? I’d be happy to pay for it.”

  Delilah brushed him off. “Nonsense. I’ll cover the cost. Consider it my pleasure.” She began punching buttons and pushed the print button. Samuel watched as the photo came out of the slot, and he picked it up, admiring it.

  The attendant showed up with Delilah’s framed print for Big Lou and extended it out to her. “Does it meet your expectations?”

  Delilah smiled at the print of the shootout on the mountain; she remembered the company she was keeping and placed it face down. “It’s perfect.”

  Samuel laughed and said, “Whoa! Slow down and allow me to see it!”

  The man sent Delilah’s skin crawling, but she flipped the print back over and allowed him to see it while explaining, “The whole thing was staged. Sometimes my family and friends help me set up different scenarios. I love photography.”

  Samuel’s eyebrows rose in amazement. “Well, you are extremely talented. This is so lifelike. It does not seem staged at all.”

  Delilah gave him a brilliant smile. “Yes, that’s the wonder of it all!”

  She stopped when she noticed Samuel scouting out the store. He asked, “You are unattended today?” He swept his arm out, gesturing around the store. “I mean, your boyfriend is not with you?”

  Delilah shook her head. “I don’t need to be attended to, Samuel. I am quite safe on my own.”

  He smiled. “Do tell.”

  She opened her mouth to speak when they both heard, “Why, Samuel, what a wonderful surprise to run into you again.”

  It was Maurice; Delilah relaxed at the sound of his voice. She turned to him and said, “Father, I was just showing Samuel the photos for Big Lou. I think he’ll be pleased. They are coming out wonderfully.”

  Maurice beamed. “Well, my dear, you do have a particular talent in photography.”

  Samuel added, “I was just telling her the same thing. The photos are magnificent.” He extended Patricia’s photo out to him.

  Maurice grinned as he admired it. “The photograph was taken on a particularly enjoyable evening she and I had at the tavern. It’s a wonderful memory.”

  He handed the photo back to Samuel, who slid it into his overcoat pocket. “I’ll have to visit the tavern again during the proper hours.” He tapped the side of his head and asked, “I have heard about Big Lou around town but have yet to meet him. Does he frequent the tavern?”

  Maurice hunched his shoulders. “When the mood strikes him, he does.”

  Samuel revealed a tight-lipped smile. “Well, perhaps I’ll meet him before I have to leave town.”

  “When will that be?” Delilah and Maurice asked in unison.

  Samuel laughed. “You’re in a big hurry to get me out of your little haven?”

  Maurice turned to Delilah. “It seems we were both being a bit snooty.”

  Delilah agreed and turned to Samuel. “I apologize. We’re not in a hurry to see you leave. Please enjoy the town, Samuel.”

  Maurice asked if she was done with her tasks for the day. She paid as he assisted her with her packages. As they left the store, they briefly stopped to wave good-bye to Samuel. When they were in their vehicle, Delilah adjusted her coat while stating, “The fucking guy has got to go, Father!”

  Maurice took the wheel and pulled away from the snowy curb. “Mind your language, darling. However, I agree he is quite an intrusive sort, isn’t he? He seems to be filled with quiet rage.”

  Delilah watched with curiosity as Maurice headed out of town. “Where are we going?”

  “To the outlets in the nearby state of New Hampshire. I noticed Samuel eyeing Patricia’s old purse. You need an identical one of your own.”

  Delilah agreed but moaned about the long, slow ride. Maurice quelled her impatience with the promise of an enjoyable shopping spree. Delilah watched the snowy scenery go by, knowing Maurice had finally devised a plan to drive Samuel out of his mind.

  Delilah asked, “Can’t we turn around and pick up Corrine for the trip?”

  Maurice shook his head. “She is at the bed and breakfast with the rest of the guests under guard. Something happened there.”

  Delilah groaned in disappointment and had to listen to Maurice tease her about finally approving of one of his girlfriends.

  CHAPTER 6

  Myrna sat in her office at the town hall listening to the chief go on about a bomb threat the bed and breakfast received in the early-morning hours.

  The chief sat there, thinking aloud. “It looks like either we have a bored teenager in town or Whittier is toying with us. None of the other guests are happy. I still have a lot of work to do to close this case, find out the numbskull’s motive and/or story, and find Samuel Whittier. He should be questioned. We’re even questioning guests from the annex in case there’s a connection.”

  Getting a thought, Myrna asked, “Chief, have you spoken to any of the teachers at the school? They would know if there is a delinquent child within their midst or a teenager longing for attention, good or bad. I think you’d be surprised what the teachers there find out. Also, check with our switchboard operator downstairs. Maybe she can trace where the call to the bed and breakfast came from.”

  He nodded. “I thought of that but wanted to tell you what’s going on first. I’ll get right on it.”

  Myrna scowled. “You don’t think Whittier had a hand in it, do you?”

  “No, but I’m doing everything by the book. He’s been in town what, one day, and we have a bomb threat? The man is a bad omen.”

  “What about questioning Ivan?”

  “You do it tomorrow morning. He’ll tell you things in his own way that he won’t tell me. I doubt he had any hand in this, but ask if Samuel has been using the annex’s phone.”

  She agreed to help him and added, “I want Samuel out of this town, but I understand why he can’t leave until you question him. Hopefully he’ll leave after our meeting. I really don’t like him at all.”

  “You spoke to him?”

  Myrna shook her head. “No. I’m avoiding him until our meeting but saw him this morning. He treats Ivan like scum.”

  The chief laughed. “You’re a softy, Myrna. You actually feel bad for the big bear.”

  She tittered. “I do! He’s so nice I can’t see anyone disliking him!” Her expression turned serious. “Ivan knows things, Chief. He just doesn’t know how to tell me yet.”

  “Yet?”

  She displayed the books she had been going over with Ivan, and he understood. He tapped the books with his forefinger and said, “Keep working with him. Question him tomorrow and urge him to practice English.” He handed another document out to her. “Speaking of Samuel, remember the third child the Whittiers had? Well, I found out there is a tombstone with ‘Baby Whittier’ on it at the local cemetery near their butcher shop in New York.”

  Myrna sat back in her chair as relief flooded her system. “The news makes me feel better.” She stopped speaking as she ran a thought through her mind.

  “What?”

  She shook her head and winced. “Nothing. I’m just being paranoid.”

  Myrna handed him the folder he had given her the night before. As he took it, he asked, “What do you think of the information? I had to have the librarian help me find the microfiche files, and then she handled the rest for me.”

  In the folder had been newspaper articles the chief had procured at her request, stories of Bertrand’s old town of residence. She grinned. “I think our dear Bertrand is a firebug. I also think he did this town a favor by offing Patricia.”

  “What do you want to do about it?”

  She scratched her forehead. “He was never caught or arr
ested for any of it. Any evidence against him is probably long gone. He got away clean in each case, including this town. I’m going to use him.”

  “Yeah?”

  She laughed. “Oh, yeah.”

  He raised his arms in surrender. “I don’t want to know the rest.”

  They were interrupted by the fax machine whirring and spitting out page after page. Myrna rolled her eyes as she pushed herself out of her chair, gathered the sheets, and noticed they were for Maurice, from one of his businesses. She folded them and returned to her desk. After slipping them into a manila envelope and labeling it for him, she narrowed her eyes at the chief. “You have no idea how far I will go to keep my town and family safe, Chief. However, I do believe you’re learning.”

  He scowled at her. “Did you bother to tell Tom what’s been going on yet?”

  She shook her head. “I’m telling him tonight. He was called out last night on an emergency, and I didn’t want to disturb his sleep this morning. Don’t worry, I’ll inform him of everything.”

  “Even your plans?”

  “We have no secrets between us. And I’ll have him help with it, so he won’t mind. Besides, these are only tentative plans. Samuel hasn’t really done anything yet.”

  “When are you going to tell me about your ‘tentative plans’?”

  Myrna cleared her throat. “I can’t. It would implicate you.” She saw his face bunch up in anger and held her hand up. “However, you can help me at some point. When I implement my plans, if you can figure it out on your own, then it’s up to you to either stop me or go along with it.”

  He agreed, flipped his hat back on his head, and left the office while griping, “I have to go and track down Samuel. Wish me luck, ’cause I really want to kill the smug bastard.”

  After the chief left the office, Myrna unlocked the safe containing all the parolees’ records; she pulled Bertrand’s out and looked it over. He had been arrested for stealing. She made a list of the items he’d stolen on her notepad, slipped it into her purse, and returned the file to the safe. She then picked up her phone and had a lengthy discussion with Big Lou.