A Tale of Two Lenores Page 4

  “It looked as if Professor Collins might have tripped over the mound of earth and fell,” Shane explained. “His handkerchief was lying nearby. We also found his cell phone.”

  Lenore did not ask if the detective was sure the phone belonged to her father. She knew he was right. Shane Travers knows Professor Collins as well as she did. He would recognize the man’s handkerchief and phone.

  “Let’s get your bag and grab a cup of coffee for the road,” Shane suggested nodding towards a Starbucks. “We can talk in the truck.”

  Lenore nodded in agreement, her eyes moist with unshed tears.

  Traffic wasn’t heavy this time of the morning, but Lenore sipped her coffee and held her questions until Shane was on I-65.

  “Travers, thanks for helping me tonight. I apologize for interrupting your evening, especially as it sounded like you were at a good party.”

  “No worries, Collins,” he told her, with a quick glance and a smile. “I was at a wedding reception. Seth Brody and Paige Nelson tied the knot this evening. Do you know them?”

  “I don’t know either of them personally. I do know Gabby Barnes well, Seth Brody is her twin,” Lenore said. “I was not home during that awful week those two women were killed last fall, but I kept up with the news about it online. Paige Nelson was nearly killed, if I remember correctly.”

  “Yes, she and her parents were abducted by the killers. Dr. Nelson was wounded during the rescue.” Shane related. “Anyway, your call saved me.”

  “From what?”

  “Bethany Allan was my date tonight. We have been seeing each other recently, nothing serious yet and may never be, but this wedding tonight put other ideas in her mind.”

  “Travers, I know you prefer blond babes with more boobs than brains, but Bethany Allan again!”

  “Whoa, Collins. Bethany is not the dimwit you think she is. Bethany is running a successful real estate company she started from the ground up. And, she is fun to be with.”

  “Good in bed, you mean?” Lenore snipped.

  “Collins, back off.”

  “Defending her honor, Travers?”

  “No, just telling it like it is. I think you may be too hard on her at times. Bethany might make some man a good wife one day.”

  Lenore stared at Shane in disbelief. With his wavy brown hair, hazel eyes, high cheekbones and that damn smile, Shane is an attractive man for sure. He is a good man, too. She knew him as an intelligent, funny, strong, gentle, stubborn, proud man, yet humble and kind, not afraid to admit his mistakes. Any woman will be lucky to win his heart; but Bethany Allan!

  “You will make some woman a good husband, Shane.”

  “I would like to think I will be a good husband and father someday,” Shane hedged. “Anyway, last time I saw Bethany, she was walking away clutching Mayor Brad Andrews’ arm. She was pretty mad at me, but I am a cop, and this is a cop’s life.”

  “Shane, I am sorry if I ruined things for you and Bethany. I really am,” she apologized. “I just didn’t know what else to do. I will call and apologize to her also.”

  “Leni don’t do that, please. To tell you the truth, Bethany and I agreed to a friend with occasional benefit type relationship and not rush into anything else. Nothing more, at least until that damn wedding tonight.” Shane admitted. “Things will work out or they won’t, which means it was not to be anyway.”

  “What happened at the wedding to change her mind?” Lenore could not hold her curiosity.

  Shane related all the events of his disastrous evening.

  “I tell you, Collins, I can put up with a lot from a woman I care for, but not the way what Bethany acted tonight. I could not believe she was so petty.”

  “You think a great deal of Seth Brody and Paige Nelson, don’t you?” Lenore knew Travers to be a loyal friend. No, he would not have liked the barb Bethany threw at Seth Brody. She remembered her past infatuation, love she thought at the time, for an attractive, attentive, sexy man who bowled her over a few years back. He turned out to be a jewel thief, of all things, stealing from clients who would then file claims with insurance companies to recoup their losses. The man took extreme risks but received huge commissions for stealing and fencing the jewels. One job did not turn out so well. Wounded during one heist, the man recovered and is in prison. No recriminations from her old friend Travers about her naivety and foolishness, his only concern was her own welfare. That’s a friend.

  “Yes, I like and respect both, professionally and personally,” Shane glanced sideways, before adding, “It’s just like the two of us, we might throw jabs at each other occasionally…”

  “Frequently,” Lenore interjected with a laugh.

  “Yeah, but my point is, we can pick on each other but we don’t tolerate others doing so.” Shane concluded.

  “That’s right, Travers. If any dirt or mud needs throwing at you, it will be me doing the pitching.”

  “Tit for tat, Collins.” Shane warned, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “I usually win, remember.”

  “Just be glad I don’t hold grudges long.” Lenore shot back. “Speaking of not holding grudges, I am glad Bethany is doing well. It couldn’t have been easy being married to that douche bag of a first husband, even if I don’t like her.”

  “What? Compassion for your old rival after all these years?” Shane teased. “She still considers you her rival, you know.”

  “You think too much of yourself, Travers. Bethany was not my rival, she just thought she was at our senior prom. Boy, did she get mad when we danced the obligatory king and queen dance.”

  “You egged her on, if I remember, smiling sweetly at me and laying your head on my shoulders, flirting outrageously,” he reminded Lenore. Surprised at the catch in his voice and a flutter in his chest for the second time tonight. He guided the talk to Professor Collins. “Enough of Bethany, Collins. Let’s talk about your dad. You have waited long enough to launch questions. Shoot.”

  “I knew you needed time before the bombardment started.”

  “Collins, I could get use to this nice side of you.” Shane shot her a sideways grin.

  “Oh no thanks needed, Travers. The tale of your fright when Bethany started singing the wedding bell blues, has supplied a bit of comic relief. I wish I could have seen the look on your face.” Lenore gave a mocking impression of Bethany, fluttering her eyes at Shane.

  “Collins, I warn you.” Shane scolded. “Do you want to know about the search or not?”

  Her demeanor became serious. “Why don’t you tell me everything that happened tonight?”

  Slipping into detective mode, Shane gave Lenore a detailed account of the search for her father. He kept his tone neutral until coming to the part of finding the grave.

  “Leni, when I saw that handkerchief next to that grave-like mound of dirt, I closed my eyes trying to make the picture go away. I hated, hated, hated waiting for CSI to arrive and conduct a proper forensic investigation. I had to know if it was the Professor under that dirt.”

  “I am sorry, Shane,” Lenore commiserated gently touching his arm.

  “The man’s face was bashed in and it is clear he had been dead for a few days. I was so relieved that it was not Professor. Then I felt guilty because my relief meant someone else’s grief. The body hadn’t been in the soil more than two or three days, but the coroner thinks the man died about five to six days ago, judging from the decomposition. We will know more after the autopsy later today.” Shane paused to take several sips of coffee.

  “What happens now?”

  “Our former medical examiner, Dr. Ken Poynter, is now the State Medical Examiner so all autopsies are done in Louisville. The downside to that is we don’t have his personal services, which was always a luxury, but on the upside, there is more than one examiner available. I am hoping one of them can work our victim’s case in today. With luck, the victim’s prints will be on file and we can make an identification quickly. I will review missing persons reports. Of course, we will ent
er any prints at the scene not belonging to the victim into AFIS for comparison. The usual who, what, where, when, and why of most murder investigations.”

  “What about the search for Dad?”

  “Well, we enlisted the help of another K-9-unit last night to search the area. Come daylight, there will be another search of the plantation and the surrounding properties. The Golden Alert will make the public familiar with your dad’s face and officers will be visiting nearby residences asking for any news of the Professor,” he concluded. “I know it does not sound like much, Leni.”

  “Shane, I realize that is about all that can be done. I want to join in on the ground search tomorrow.”

  “You can join me, if you want, we leave early,” he warned.

  “Thanks,” she acknowledged. “I will be ready. What did the search of the old house reveal?”

  “We are waiting for a search warrant and will need to pick up the key from Bethany, but the plan is to search the place in the morning. Tim and I looked through the windows and didn’t see anything.”

  Shane reached over and gave Leni’s hand a squeeze. “We will find the Professor, Leni, I promise.”

  Lenore smiled at his reassurance. They rode in a comfortable silence until Shane pulled his truck up in front of his apartment building.

  “Why are we stopping here?” Lenore asked.

  “You want to take part in the search this morning. We need to get an early start, so we will nap here for a few hours. Tonight, you are going to stay with Mom and Dad and for a couple of more days if necessary.” Shane’s voice was firm; his expression clearly said no arguing.

  “Travers, I can stay at Dad’s.”

  “Collins, my mother will never let me hear the end of it if you don’t stay and let her hover over you. Please, don’t do that to me,” he grimaced.

  “I would rather stay home,” insisted Lenore. “I hate to bother your parents.”

  “Look, Collins. Your father found a fresh grave and he is now missing, along with his keys and driver’s license. If some stranger comes into possession of said items, there is nothing to prevent them from finding and entering your Dad’s house. I don’t want you in the house if they pay a visit,” Shane explained. “I have a friend who is a locksmith and owes me a favor. I’ll call him today to change the locks. When the new locks are in place, you can go home.”

  Lenore wanted to argue but what Shane was saying made sense. “You know if I was not in such a fragile emotional state, you could not boss me around, Shane Travers.”

  “I know, and I plan to take advantage of the situation as long as I can.”

  Shane rented an apartment in the Warehouse District. The old warehouses near downtown Hylton overlooking the Ohio River once served as storage for Sinking Creek Distillery. Over the years, the warehouses fail in to disuse, and the old buildings stood empty until the city of Hylton purchased the property from Brad Andrews, the owner of Sinking Creek Distillery. Since the purchase, contractors restored the warehouses in the best shape, converting them to apartment buildings. The other buildings were torn down and replaced with condominiums, using materials from the old buildings whenever possible in the interior designs of the buildings. Lenore liked this area and considered renting one of the apartments if her career brought her back to Hylton full time.

  She was in awe stepping into Shane’s apartment with the modern rustic décor and open layout of the place. “Travers, this is beautiful.”

  “Thanks, Collins. I would like claim credit for it, but I had one of my friend’s wife who is an interior designer take care of the decorating. The only thing I insisted on was not hiding my view of the river.” Shane nodded to a large window in one wall.” A leather recliner, an end table and table lamp strategically placed to give the occupant a panoramic view of the river and the lights from Port City, Indiana across the river.

  As tired and worried as she was, Lenore was not immune to that view. She loved watching the river. “Okay, Travers. This is the deal. When I move back to Hylton, you buy a condo and I rent this apartment.”

  “Not on your life, Collins. Find your own apartment.” Shane paused reflectively then laughed. “Or, you can move in with me.”

  “Be careful, Travers. I may take you up on that just to have this view.”

  “Could be interesting, Collins. One never knows.” There was a subtle earnest quality to his voice and Lenore did not know what to make of it.

  “Sorry, Travers. Two is company and three is a crowd. I don’t do well playing second fiddle, especially against Bethany.” She laughed but stopped abruptly seeing the look on her friend’s face. Had she offended him?

  “Travers, I think we both need to get that nap in,” she suggested. “Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

  “In the top drawer of the vanity.”

  “Great. Point me in the direction of the bathroom so I can brush my teeth, then I will crash on the sofa.”

  Shane had blankets and a pillow ready on the sofa when Lenore returned.

  “Take the bed, Collins; I’ll sleep here. I insist.” Travers urged.

  “Nope, I claim first dibs on the sofa. Now get off my bed, mister,” she demanded grabbing the closet throw pillow at hand, aiming it at Travers head.

  At the door to the bedroom he turned and spoke. “You know if our dads find out you stayed with me, they will start having visions of grandkids dancing in their heads.”

  She threw a pillow at him, hitting the door just as it closed.

  Chapter 5

  James Collins regained consciousness cold, hungry, and with a splitting headache, but still alive. Alive. Where he was, James did now know, could not even begin to guess. He had no notion of how long he had been unconscious. He puzzled over what happened but drifted in to sleep without putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Next time, James woke he was more alert to the happenings of earlier. James remembered being at Twin Maples Plantation; he remembered the feel of the sunshine and the gentle breeze. Then something slammed up against his head, gentle arms helping him to his feet and steadying him walk. then the world went black. From sunshine and warmth to black and cold; not the ending he planned for this day, of that James was sure. He shivered, whether from the chilly air or fright, he wasn’t sure. He closed his eyes, he couldn’t see a thing. Am I blind, he wondered, or is it night? He drifted off to sleep with the question on his mind.

  When James Collins awoke, he could dimly see his surroundings. Not blind, he reassured himself. He was in a small, dimly lit room. To his surprise, he lay on a small cot, not the floor. He remembered finding a grave; he remembered the mad man hitting him with the shotgun he wielded. How did I get here and how long have I been here? James shifted his body a bit to take in more of the place. The dim glow of light appeared to be hanging in midair. The light moved and scrapping sound alerted James that he was not alone. Jailer or rescuer? He took no chance and closed his eyes, trying to still his heart beat, which to him sounded like a drum beating in his chest.

  “Mister, I know you are awake,” a soft female voice challenged him. “I saw you move. You can keep those eyes closed for now, if you want. I am going to clean your wound.”

  James flinched and grimaced when a cool cloth touched his head, but he relaxed as his nurse soothed him with her gentle voice and soft touch.

  “Where am I?” James asked, keeping his eyes closed.

  “In a safe place for now. Charlie saw a man hit you and yelled but the man took a shot at Charlie. Thankfully, Charlie did not get hit.”

  “Of, course, it was Charlie that helped me.” James’ memory of the event began to come into focus. “Charlie took a big chance, he could have been killed.”

  “Charlie is desperate to protect me,” she explained. “There, you should feel better now. At least, you look better. I am Casey.

  James Collins risked opening his eyes and discovered he was in the presence of an angel. Beside him knelt a young woman with an angelic face, golden blonde hair, sapphire blue ey
es, and a serene smile, dressed in a man’s shirt much too large for her slender frame. Surely, he was dead and looking at the ghost of the lovely Lenore Wilkes. A male voice called her name and Casey turned to look at the speaker. An involuntary gasp escaped James when he saw the ragged, red, raised linear wound on her face.

  She heard his gasp and looked at him. “Knife fight,” the girl remarked, making light of the wound. “Not exactly a beauty mark is it?”

  “What happened?” James had to ask. “Who did that to you?”

  “Some bad men, as Charlie says,” Casey said in a matter of fact tone. “They might have hurt a friend of ours, too.”

  “Where is Charlie?” James wondered.

  “It’s okay, Charlie, come on over.” Casey invited. “Your friend is alive and awake.”

  Charlie came into view and stood beside the girl, casting his sad countenance on James.

  “Mr. Jim, I am sorry, he hit you before I could stop him. He was one of them bad men” Charlie’ voice full of apology.

  “Charlie B I am glad to see you. You probably saved my life”.

  “He shouldn’t have hit you, Mr. Jim.”

  “That he shouldn’t have, Charlie. You carried me here, didn’t you?”

  Charlie nodded, “Only part of the way. You walked a little.”

  “You kept him from hurting me worse. Thank you, my friend.” James reached for Charlie’s hand. “Casey can be assured you are doing an excellent job protecting her, Charlie,” James avowed. “May I ask exactly who or what is threatening the young lady?”

  “Not now, mister.” Casey interjected firmly. “What is your name, beside Mr. Jim? And, what were you up to today out here?”

  “I am an anthropologist. Dr. James Collins,” he explained, “a retired professor. I came here today as part of my research for a book on legends and folktales.”

  “Why here?” Casey puzzled.

  “Surely, you have heard the story of Lenore Wilkes and Charlie Stuart.”

  “I am not from around here,” she explained. “Charlie grew up here. Didn’t you Charlie?”

  “Charlie and I are old friends, Miss Casey,” he reminded her. “Could I have a drink of water, please?”