Lover’s Cross VIII
My name is Sunny Alexander. And I’m Henry James and we’re writers for Dark Sides of the Truth magazine.
Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Conclusion
Five months ago a very much alive Daryl Hoenig purchased wood and had it delivered.
To the house of one Penelope Layne which was a huge problem.
It wasn’t her house.
Using the Freedom of Information Act to our advantage, we discovered the house was registered in Daryl Hoenig’s name. On the drive back we tossed what we knew around hoping something would jump out.
“What do we know about this woman Henry?”
“Aside from the fact she’s very good in bed?”
“You had to go there? Really James?”
“Okay, okay. Her parents died when she was young. She lived with her grandmother, went to high school, college, got a degree in Criminal Justice. Never married. Some dude left her at the alter.”
“That’s it. That’s all you know about her?”
“Did I mention she’s good in…”
“Zip it grandpa. We’re missing something Henry.”
“Wait a minute. The envelope.”
“What envelope?”
“The envelope Rick received. The one with the pictures.”
“What about it?”
“Rick said it came from another state. You remember where?”
“No.”
“Bluetooth, call Rick McDonnell.”
“Calling Rick McDonnell.”
“This is McDonnell.”
“Rick it’s Henry and Sunny. The envelope. Where did you say it was from?”
“Wisconsin.”
“Damn. Penny told me she went to live with her grandmother in Milwaukee. Last time I looked Milwaukee is in Wisconsin.”
“Who’s Penny?”
“Captain Penelope Layne.”
“If she’s the one who killed Daryl and sent the photographs to you somehow she knows you.”
“I told you before Sunny I don’t know Penelope Layne. You have a photo of her?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You two want to huddle and get your answers straight?”
“While Henry was uh, indisposed, I took a snap shot of her picture hanging on the wall in the police lobby. I’m sending it to you now.”
“What the hell were you going to do with that?”
“I was going to get Manny to run it through facial recog Henry. Something about her just doesn’t seem right.”
“I’m not feeling it.”
“That’s because you let your penis get in the way.”
“I don’t want to hear the story behind that comment Alexander. She does look familiar. Looks a lot like someone I dated in college. Hair color’s different and this Layne woman’s face is more full, but the eyes. The woman I knew had the most dazzling green eyes I’d ever seen. Just like this Captain Layne.”
“You dated her?”
“The woman I’m talking about I met in college. We went out a couple of times and then I’d had enough. Too clingy. Started planning our wedding on our third date. Seemed a little on the weird side to me. I introduced her to Daryl at a mixer one night. They seemed to hit it off.”
“What was her name Rick?”
“James, that was almost twenty years ago. Pam something or other. Lambert I think, yeah Pamela Lambert. Shit.”
“What?”
“Pamela Lambert transferred to Southern Illinois from some college in Milwaukee. Me, Daryl and her used to hang out together. After graduation Daryl and I stayed in touch. Then one day I get a call from them. They wanted me in their wedding. I said hell no.”
“Why?”
“Because as far as I was concerned Sunny, Pamela had a couple of screws loose. Didn’t want any part of that. Told them to send pictures.”
We stared at one another in silence. At that moment, each of us knew what the other was thinking.
Rick told someone to send pictures and they sure as hell had.
“Okay Rick thanks. We’ll let you know if we find anything.”
“Be careful you two.”
“What’s the worse that could happen Rick?”
“Henry, I hate it when you say shit like that.”
We decided the best thing to do was visit Penelope at the police station. Chances were good she wouldn’t try anything with an entire police squad nearby.
“I have a question Sunny.”
“Yeah?”
“Why would she have had Daryl’s receipt in her back pocket?”
“Don’t know. Maybe she returned some of the wood?”
“Call Elmo.”
A brief conversation with the MOD of Monument Lumberyard verified Sunny’s lucky guess. Penelope Layne had returned some of the wood and had been provided a receipt for the return.
At the police station the same young officer who’d been swallowed by his uniform shirt the day before, was again being swallowed by the one he wore today.
“Jessie right?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Can we speak to Captain Layne for a moment?”
“She’s not here ma’am.”
“Vacation?”
“No sir. She’s at a symposium up in St Louis. Won’t be back till Friday evening.”
“Who’s in charge when she’s away?”
“That would be Stan.”
“Stan got a last name?”
“Uh yes sir, Stan Caulder.”
“Is he here?”
“Yes sir.”
“You want to go get him son?”
“Uh yeah, sorry. Be right back.”
“Sunny, don’t care how you do it, but get this Caulder guy to cooperate and get a search warrant for Daryl’s house and property.”
“Where the hell are you going?”
“I’m going back to Daryl’s house. If I find anything we’re going to need that warrant to make this shit stick.”
While Sunny was working her magic I rolled out to Daryl Hoenig’s place.
As I got out I inspected the fence remembering what Penelope had said. She’d built it herself. Used an auger attached to a four wheeler. An auger which bored a perfectly round hole, just like the one we’d found at Lover’s Point.
It was late in the afternoon. The time of day just before shades of darkness try to settle in. I figured without a flashlight I needed to get my snooping done before I lost the light.
I discovered a large shed behind the house. More important, it was unlocked so I slid the door open and stepped inside. Along with lawn mowing equipment, a wheelbarrow and gas cans, sat the four wheeler. Attached to butt end was the auger.
Which didn’t prove a damned thing.
Leftover wood from Penelope’s fence building episode was propped along the back wall. Stacked beside the wood were four cardboard boxes.
Doing what a good snooper does, I began inspecting the boxes.
I rustled through framed photographs of people I didn’t know, nick knacks, and a few candles warped by ambient heat. In the bottom box I found various oddities and folded hand towels and blankets.
I was about to call it a day until I discovered a single picture stored between a crocheted throw blanket.
It was a picture of Daryl, Penelope and Rick McDonnell. A very young Rick McDonnell with hair down to his shoulders. If there had been anyone else sandwiched between the men I would have had myself a good laugh.
The fact Penelope Layne wasn’t who she said she was wasn’t a laughing matter.
“Why did you leave me Daryl? I did everything for you. I hung myself on a Lover’s cross for you, but you didn’t seem to care did you?”
I froze then tried to twist around and stand but she was too close. She plunged a syringe into the base of my neck just above my collar bone, but I staggered past her and managed to stumble out of the shed. I tried to make it to my car, but lost my balance and fell to my knees.
Then everything went dark.
READ ON — LOVER’S CROSS CONCLUSION
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