Dempster Road

Chapter 6

Day began with a blurry sun pushing through the early morning mist. The humidity was climbing fast and reports had the temperature heading north to the eighties. Happy to get out of his house with a minimum of grief from DTS, Barney checked into the office and was surprised as ever to find Stella looking fresh and fit, except for some redness in the eyes.

She pulled a sheet from the printer then went to the coffee maker and dumped the grounds.

"What would this office do without you, Stella?" He stood waiting with his mug.

"The office would get along fine, it's you men that would fall to pieces." After a few minutes she tipped the pot over his mug, and he breathed in the heavy aroma of the coffee.

"You're probably right; certainly Stan would be in major trouble." He stopped, realizing the inference allowed for Edgar still being around. "Sorry, Stel."

"Don't be silly. It's nothing you did." She returned to her desk. "I'm going to miss him, Barney. A lot." She couldn't muffle the sniff.

"Me too. The best thing I guess is to get workin' on what happened. Clyde should be out there with Stan soon then we can have Doc take a look at the- at Edgar – if he's there."

He finished his coffee and rinsed the mug in the washroom. "Okay, Stel. I'm goin' to check out the patrol car and the other car Tony hauled in. Give me a call when you hear something. Oh, and call Latham police for a check on that licence number."

He stopped at the door and looked back at her. "Listen, Stel, it's gonna be tough for a while with one less. I don't want you knockin' yourself out . . . just the necessary stuff, okay?"

She nodded a sad smile. "I can still manage the coffee, Barney."

He didn't respond, just returned the nod and left quietly.

****

Barney crawled into the still damp patrol car and began poking around in behind and under the seats, then the console and the glove compartment. The visors revealed nothing nor did the door pockets. Stella called and said that Stan and Clyde were back, and he told her to send Stan over to help search the cars and tell Clyde to wait at the office until he got back.

Stan arrived and said that doc had Edgar's body on the table, they discussed the gruesome reason for his demise before continuing with the search.

"I just don't get it," Barney called from the front seat. "You're tellin' me Edgar's gun was in his hand, and the shotgun was next to him in the river with the safety on and no shells in the chamber . . .? Is that what you're sayin'?" Barney took off his hat and rubbed his head. "Was the gun even fired?"

Stan's voice sounded muffled in the trunk. "Can't tell. The magazine's gone, and the water pretty much makes any forensics difficult."

"Any shells in the trunk?"

"Nothin', Sheriff. Trunk's as clean as a whistle as far as any clues go."

"Yeah, inside's the same."

Both men climbed out and stood looking at it then Stan slammed the lid and dusted his hands together.

"It's like he just fell in and drowned." Stan said.

"Except for the empty guns and the fact his throat is hanging out in shreds."

"Yeah . . . 'cept for that. Wait till you see, Barney, it's tore open like an old soup can."

"Jesus. I better get back and see the Doc. I feel like a real shit, Stan. The last thing I did was blast him for bein' a wimp."

"You can't make the right moves every time, Sheriff. Life doesn't allow that luxury."

Barney sighed and shook his head, listening with amusement at this little philosophical observation from a man who swaggers through life careless of whether he's right, wrong, or in between when it comes to feelings.

"I'll do the other car, Barney. You take care of Edgar and Clyde."

"You should know that there is a suspicious similarity connecting these two cases. The locked doors. The keys inside and the driver missing."

"But both on the same night, and a lot of miles apart, Boss. Coincidence?"

"You're probably right."

He looked over his deputy's shoulder and made an angry sound in his throat. "Damn! Here comes that Belinda again. I'm not up to listenin' to her freedom of the press rant. Last night she nearly ran the lot of us down when she left. Handle her will you, Stan, I'm gonna see to the Doc."

Stan smiled and looked away. "Always a pleasure, Sheriff."

"Christ, Withers get your mind above your waist."

"Will do." Stan kept smiling. "And it is her waist."

"What's so funny?" Belinda asked as she marched up and took in the smirk on Stan's face. "Why's your boss runnin' off like that?"

"He asked me to handle you . . ."

"Yeah? And?"

Stan's smirk expanded. "I said that was my speciality." She stared at him with open hostility, hands on hips and the implied objects of Stan's handling thrusting tightly against the flimsy material of her blouse. "I guess that's not on today, eh?"

Belinda tapped a foot, eyes still fixed on his with little pleasure.

"Okay then, talk with me while I check out this other car then we'll go to the Luvin' Spoonful and have a coffee."

"You're buyin'."

"I figured."

****

Henry Steiger had apparently gone from raging maniac to a blubbering, apologetic pudding, and finally to subdued and morose when his wife showed up to forgive him – again – and have him released. Barney reminded her that Henry had taken a swing at a police officer, and that Stan might want a little more than blubbering and remorse this time. Stella assured him that Henry would come by with a personal apology, and Barney forced a straight face in spite of the snort he heard from Stella.

He had finished a gruesome session with the doctor, interviewed Clyde over everything he saw and did while recovering the body, then told him to get Stella to cut him a cheque for services. He regained a sad smile then told Stella where he was going, and approximately how long he'd be, got her report on Shafton's licence as he left, and climbed into his car.

The bright blue of the sky and the warm breeze pouring in the half lowered rear windows felt good, and he took off his hat, settled back in the comfort of the seat, and watched the landscape rush past on both sides. Did Edgar have a run in with a bear? What in God's name could do damage like that? The whole incident boggled his mind.

Barney hoped this drive would provide some time to clear his head. The call to Edgar's parents had been rough. While they hadn't seen him for years, they did correspond occasionally, and he was their only child. Barney promised that whatever arrangements they wanted would be seen to by him personally, and had closed listening to Edgar's mother sobbing in the background.

Today was new business. He was headed to the farm of the man who reported Edward Shafton's car and to pin down any facts he might offer.