Wednesday, October 11, 2023

Spirits, Wine and Chocolate: A Stanford Bell Origin Story

Spirits, Wine and Chocolate:  Before there was 'The Last Case'

Stanford Bell shot up out of bed, almost falling on the floor. He was panting, covered in sweat and coughing from the taste of battery acid that rose up in his throat. As he sat there, naked and confused, the woman beside him rolled over onto one elbow and began softly stroking his face with her other hand. “What’s the matter, baby?” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

“I will be after I get a drink,” he said in a raspy, broken voice. “It’s just another night of reflux, bad dreams and regret.”

Stanford Bell was a down-on-his-luck private detective who had given up a career as a police officer to go into business for himself, investigating cheating husbands, looking for missing women, tracking down deadbeat fathers and retrieving runaway children so he could set his own rules while earning a lot more money than the municipal police force was willing to pay. So far, it hadn’t worked out that way, and most of the money that Stanford did earn usually went to buy cheap Mexican fast-food, Marlboro Red cigarettes and shots of Jack Daniel’s in the Lonely Sparrow, his favorite bar located on Chapel Street.

His bed mate this night was a Philippine-American beauty named Lourdes Evangelista de los Santos, who worked as a bartender at the Sparrow. Her name meant “evangelist of the saints,” and Stanford considered her to be his “Lourdes and savior.” She was a small but solid five-foot-two with long black hair, dark eyes, the smooth tan face of a Baywatch lifeguard and a body built for Hooters. She was the main attraction among Sparrow patrons, many of whom only drank there so they could gawk at Lourdes and watch her bend over to get beer from the cooler or reach up high to grab bottles of liquor off the shelves behind the bar.

She worked at the Sparrow almost every night because she liked the work and the relationships she formed with her customers. She also had a habit of going home after closing time with some of her regulars – either men or women – whenever the spirit moved her. Stanford Bell was her favorite, and her spirit moved her to take him to her apartment on numerous occasions.

Tonight was one of those times.

Earlier in the evening, when Lourdes went off duty, she and Stanford had sat at the end of the curved Sparrow bar, sucking lemons and limes and trading shots of Cava de Oro Tequila. Later, she took him home and stuffed him full of chocolate cake, which they washed down with a bottle of Alamos Malbec wine. He passed out soon afterward, as he always did after too much drinking ... and too much sex.

Now, in the darkened room, after a few minutes of wheezing and wiping perspiration off his forehead, Stanford rolled himself off the side of the bed and stumbled to the bathroom, where he relieved himself, drank a large glass of water and swallowed a handful of antacid tablets. He started back toward the bedroom when Lourdes called out, “Wait! Brush your teeth.” He did, and then she did, and they crawled back into bed for a long Colgate kiss, followed by, well … use your imagination.

When they had finished, Lourdes spooned up beside Stanford and kissed him softly on the ear. “What was your bad dream about?” she asked.

“The usual stuff,” he replied. “I’m staking out someone’s house and when I get out of my car, a door flies open and someone starts shooting at me. I reach for my gun and it’s not there, and I’m out in the open and there’s nowhere to hide. I try to get back in the car but the door’s locked and I turn around and he’s still shooting and the bullets are hitting me … and then I wake up before I die.”

“You said reflux, bad dreams and regret,” Lourdes repeated. “I get the dreams, but what about the regret?”

“Baby, there’s not enough time for me to lay out all of my regrets. I’ve lived a life of regret so far, but it has nothing to do with you, I assure you. I’ve made a lot of mistakes and made decisions I wish I could change, but being here with you is one of the few good things in my life.”          

Lourdes kissed him again, then lay back on the pillow and smiled. “The reflux part I understand, too,” she said. “You need to stay away from those faux-Mexican fast-food joints where you eat all of your meals, especially late at night. Before you know it, people are going to start calling you Taco Bell.”

“That’s funny,” Stanford said. “I usually eat burritos or chimichangas.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lourdes said, “but who ever heard of a restaurant chain named Chimichanga Bell?”

Sunday, June 12, 2022

Vineyard Girl: A Covington Mystery Short Story


Preface

      The following story is fiction. All of the characters included in the story are creations of the author’s imagination. They only exist on the pages of this story and four previous Covington Mystery novels. Locations, places and names that may exist in the real world are used here in a purely fictional narrative that did not happen anywhere or at any time.

      It’s important to note that as this story was being written in 2022, the COVID-19 virus continued to surge around the world, causing millions of deaths and illnesses. The author recognizes the severity of the pandemic and has expressed empathy and concern for those affected individuals in numerous comments on social media and other forums where COVID has been discussed.

      However, as a distraction from the horror of COVID, he has chosen to create this story in a time and place where COVID does not exist. That way, the story stands on its own without having to take a position on quarantining, masking, social distancing, vaccinations or other issues that have inexplicably divided the country. The author’s positions on those issues are well-known to his friends and family and are readily available through his numerous Facebook posts, should anybody care.

      Meanwhile, he invites you to take a little time away from the woes of the world and lose yourself in another Covington mystery ... this one with a surprising lead character. Enjoy.

 

Chapter 1

Saturday, July 3, 2021

Edgartown, Massachusetts

      Annie Covington walked the six blocks at a fairly rapid pace, leaving the Vineyard Packet a little after 11 in the morning and arriving at the old lighthouse well before noon. She stood beside a lamp post and was looking around for the best place to view the Independence Day kickoff event when she casually glanced down the hill toward Lighthouse Beach, and thought she saw something lying among the rocks. “Look down there,” she said to a police officer who was leaning against his car nearby. “There’s something purple along the shoreline.”

      “Must be a tarp or something that blew off a boat,” Officer Rick Hutchins said.

      Annie, who was the curious type, accompanied the officer down the steep slope and the two of them approached the object, which came into full view at the bottom of the hill. When Annie saw what it was, she gasped and put her hand over her mouth. It wasn’t a tarp or anything that had blown off a boat. It was a collection of clothing, carefully laid out as if it were being worn by its owner. The outfit included a pair of khaki shorts stained with blood, a deep purple hooded sweatshirt and one black Converse tennis shoe. The other shoe was missing. Torn, pale blue underwear had been placed on top of the clothing in the approximate location where it would be worn underneath.

      Annie recognized the sweatshirt as part of the uniform worn by Vineyard High School’s cheerleading squad, with the logo of a lion and the letters VHS prominently displayed on the left side of the shirt. Stitched into the right side in italic script letters was a name, “Evalynn.”  

      “I think these clothes belong to Evalynn Greene,” Annie told the cop. “She’s a cheerleader at my school.”

      “Well, someone has gone to a lot of trouble to lay these clothes out the way they are,” Hutchins said. “Even the underwear. It looks like everything is here.”

      “Not quite everything,” Annie said, gesturing toward the clothes. “Where is Evalynn Greene?”  

    Next: A change in ownership


Chapter 2

Three hours earlier

      Rob Covington held the door open with his knee while he dragged in two large box fans from the sidewalk. Then he propped the door open with a brick. His wife, Jennie, came along behind with two more, smaller fans, followed by their daughter, Annie, who was carrying a box of cleaning supplies. Rob tried to open a window but they were all either painted or nailed shut.

      “Dammit,” he said to no one. “This isn’t going to help.”

      The Covington family had arrived at the office of the Vineyard Packet bright and early on Saturday morning. Job 1 was to clean and ventilate the building where the former owner, Alvin Funderburk, had sat drinking Scotch whisky straight and chain-smoking Camel cigarettes for more than 50 years. Job 2 would be rushing to cover the events of the Independence Day weekend which started officially in a few hours.

      Rob and Jennie, both former journalists turned best-selling authors, were the new owners of the only newspaper on Martha’s Vineyard, having purchased the place lock, stock and smoke residue from the 85-year-old founder, who was now happily retired and on his way to somewhere in the South Seas. It had been a long time since either of the Covingtons was a full-time working journalist, and they were both eager to jump back into the business.

      Rob had been writing an occasional column for the Packet since moving to the Vineyard in 2009, and had helped police track a serial killer called the Candy Man. Jennie had a reputation for helping to close missing person cases. In the intervening years, she and Rob had resigned as reporters to write a series of best-selling books, including their most recent offering about a missing Vineyard woman whose husband hadn’t seen her for 10 years, since she left the house to buy groceries one Saturday morning and never returned. Jennie had traced her across the country, through a series of waitressing and minimum wage jobs in a lot of small towns, until she turned up a year ago with a new name and a girlfriend, both of them dealing Blackjack in an off-the-strip Las Vegas casino. That book, The Woman Who Went Out For Milk and Bread and Wound Up In the Chips, was a literary success.

      Something else amazing had happened during the last 11 years. The Covingtons’ only daughter, Anne Elizabeth, had managed to grow up. Just a child of five when the Candy Man was on the loose, she was now a 16-year-old junior-to-be at Vineyard High School in Oak Bluffs and a carbon copy of her mother, with pale gray eyes that sparkled when she smiled, corkscrews of chestnut hair framing a face notable for its flawless, tan complexion, and an expression that was half smile and half smirk, which she normally combined with a healthy dose of harmless, playful sarcasm. She learned that from her mother.

      Jennie was tall but Annie was taller at 5-foot-10 with long legs and other body parts exactly where they were supposed to be. She was a starting forward on the school’s basketball team, editor of the school yearbook and a writer on the school newspaper, The Vine, which had gotten her a summer internship on the Packet even before her parents bought it. Every boy in the school wanted to date her, but she was selective in her choices. She would accept an offer to attend major events such as the prom or the homecoming dance, for example, but refused to lock herself into a Friday night-Saturday night dating routine with any of her suitors. She had learned that from her mother, too.    

      Today, the Covingtons found themselves the proud owners of an out-of-date newspaper office with uneven wooden floors, scratched wooden desks, dinosaur computers and windows that wouldn’t open, notable for the blended aroma of cigarette smoke, spilled liquor, newsprint and ink, cobwebs older than they were and six decades of dust.

      “I’ve got to open these windows,” Rob said when the fans were set up around the main room. “I’m going over to Winton’s Hardware for some tools.”

      Next: Holiday preparations and a surprise

 

Chapter 3

      By 10 a.m., Rob Covington had successfully opened three of the windows that looked out on Main and Summer streets. Two had been nailed shut, so he pried out the nails with a claw hammer and jiggled the casings until they opened. The other window had been sealed with several decades worth of paint, so Rob used a hammer and chisel to liberate the window within its frame. Box fans were now blowing Alvin Funderburk’s cigarette smoke and other assorted odors out of the Packet newsroom. Meanwhile, Rob, Jennie and Annie were throwing away trash, wiping down the surfaces of desks, tables and chairs and sweeping the wooden floors, first with a broom and then with a damp mop.

      At 11:00, Jennie realized that Fourth of July events would be getting organized at the lighthouse up the street, so she dispatched Annie with an iPad and cell phone camera to capture the activities. Annie was a novice reporter but she had been working on the school paper for a couple of semesters, so Jennie figured she could handle the challenge of recording Mayor Merle Mackinnon’s Independence Day speech. At the very least, she could take a few photos, come back and look up last year’s message, which was bound to be basically the same.

      When Annie arrived, parade organizers were double-checking their list of floats, bands, scout troops, dancers, politicians, fire trucks and candy-throwing clowns and waiting for the first units to arrive for the lineup. Electronics technicians and volunteers were busy installing a portable stage, chairs, microphones and speakers needed for the mayor’s holiday address.

      Annie was amazed that so many volunteers were on the scene. Independence Day could really draw the crowds, especially in this part of the country. She saw members of the Vineyard District Historical Commission, who Alvin Funderburk had called the “Blue Haired Daughters of the Pilgrim Massacre,” completely decked out from head to toe in red, white and blue. She saw a couple of art teachers from her high school, several cops and Vineyard firemen and a man dressed up like George Washington. Unsurprisingly, she noticed that several prominent politicians were already roaming through the area, glad-handing everyone they encountered and passing out everything from brochures to campaign buttons and even straw boater hats.

      “Straw campaign hats,” Annie thought. “Now that’s old school.”

      Even with so many people on the scene, preparations for the event kept everybody busy enough that no one had bothered to look down the hill behind the lighthouse at the rocky coastline of Nantucket Sound. Later, workers planned to set up fireworks in a secluded section of the beach, but for now, no one was interested in looking over the hill toward the blue water below.

      No one, that is, until Annie Covington arrived.   

      Next: Vineyard Girls  


Chapter 4

      While Annie and Officer Hutchins were examining the clothes spread out on Lighthouse Beach, a small crowd of spectators had gathered around them, including Mayor Mackinnon. Hutchins had called a supervisor to report what he had found, and soon a detective arrived with a forensics team to cordon off the area with yellow crime scene tape. The mayor announced that the parade would be rerouted to end at the Water Street Harbor House a few blocks down the street, and he would address the crowd from there. Each of the volunteers grabbed a couple of folding chairs and followed behind the mayor while the stage and sound system were being disassembled and moved.

      Annie, meanwhile, hung around taking photos of the scene. She texted photos of the clothing to Rob and Jennie at the Packet and was told to come back there as soon as possible. This was news that clearly trumped the mayor’s annual holiday address, and besides, Mayor Mackinnon could be interviewed later about truth, justice and the American way. While Annie was heading back to the newspaper office, Jennie called Police Chief Philip Muddlety, who arrived at the office just ahead of Annie. The Covingtons had met Muddlety, then a sergeant, while investigating a missing person case in 2009.

      “I got a call from my officer on the scene, so I know the basics,” Muddlety said after taking a seat in the Packet newsroom. “So tell me, Annie. You were there. What exactly did you see and what do you know that might help us understand what’s going on?”

      “Well, first off, that was part of a cheerleader uniform, as you probably know,” Annie said. “All of the girls have them. They wear the hoodies when the weather gets cold. What I don’t understand is what it was doing there now. I mean, school is out for the summer so there are no sporting events for the cheerleaders to attend, although I suppose they might be walking in today’s parade. Plus, it was so weird the way the outfit was laying there. It was laid out perfectly, underwear and clothes, as if the person wearing it had somehow disintegrated and left their clothes behind.”

      “Like she was beamed up or teleported,” Muddlety said with a grin.

      “Exactly,” Annie said.

      “You told Officer Hutchins you thought the clothes belonged to Evelyn somebody,” Muddlety said. “Tell me about her.”

      “It’s Evalynn, as in Eva plus Lynn. Evalynn Greene,” Annie said. “I think she’ll be the head cheerleader this fall. She’s also one of the V Girls at school.”

      “V Girl? What the hell is a V Girl?” Muddlety asked.

      “Well ….” Annie hesitated, looking around the room and then at her mom and dad. She was instantly sorry she had said those words. She hadn’t intended to go there, but now she had said them and there was no going back. She clearly knew something she didn’t want to talk about, but the chief urged her on, and Jennie pitched in, too. “C’mon, Annie. Something terrible could have happened to someone you know,” she said. “Someone could be dead or hurt or in serious trouble. You want to be a journalist? This is news, so tell the man what he wants to know.”

      “Okay,” Annie said, reluctantly, then paused again while deciding what to say.

      “Well,” she said finally, “there’s this group of boys who kinda run things at the school. They call themselves the LKs, which stands for Lion Kings, after the lion, our school mascot. They’re mostly jock-types who play sports, hang out together, party on weekends and hit on all the pretty girls. Roby Coin is their leader. He’s on the basketball team. The LKs are the most popular boys in school and a lot of girls want to date them, so the girls try to get invited to these parties. Most of the LKs are okay guys who just like to have fun on weekends, but others – like Roby – try to get girls drunk so they can, you know, get them into bed. They’re especially interested if they think the girl might be a virgin.”

      Annie looked around at her parents and Chief Muddlety for encouragement, but no one said a thing, so she continued with her story.

      “They have these temporary tattoos,” she said. “I looked them up once. They’re kinda like decals that are applied to someone’s skin for short periods of time. You place the tattoo face down somewhere on the body and hold a wet sponge on it for about a minute, then peel off the paper backing and the tattoo appears. Anyone can do it, as long as the girl stays still for a minute or two. If she’s drunk, or better yet, passed out, this is not usually a problem. The image will stay on someone’s skin for some time before eventually fading away, possibly as long as two or three weeks.”

      “So how does this apply to the V Girls?” Muddlety asked.

      “It’s almost like a brand,” Annie said. “If a girl goes to one of these parties but doesn’t hook up with an LK, Roby or one of his buddies will apply a temporary tattoo on the back of her right shoulder. It’s a small letter ‘V’ that stands for ‘virgin.’ They usually don’t tell the girl what it means. They might tell her it’s a sign of acceptance within the group. Or, the girl might not even know they’re doing it if she’s had a lot to drink.”

      “What happens if a girl does agree to hook up?” Muddlety asked.

      “Well, if a girl does go to bed with an LK, she gets a V and a G. That stands for ‘V Girl’ or ‘Vineyard Girl,’ meaning she’s not a virgin. The tattoos are signals to other boys who take the girls on dates. They can see if the girl is a V or a VG. The tattoos may be temporary but they’re hard to remove, so if a girl gets branded as a virgin, everyone who sees her in gym class or wearing a sleeveless top or bathing suit will know it.”

      “Doesn’t the same thing apply to girls with VGs?” Muddlety asked? “Doesn’t everybody know?”

      “Yes, of course,” Annie said, “but some of the girls who score with the LKs want their friends to know. They think it makes them more popular than the regular V girls. They believe it somehow elevates their status in school, to be associated with the cool guys, even though the boys treat them like property. Less popular people don’t even know what the tattoos mean. A lot of V Girls keep getting temp tattoos when the originals start to fade. I’ve heard that some girls even go have a real tattoo applied. If you have a VG on your shoulder, you’re a girl that’s in tight with the LKs.”

      There was silence in the room, as none of the adults knew what to say next, thinking that Annie’s story seemed a little too crazy to believe. Chief Muddlety took off his hat and rubbed his forehead. Jennie looked stunned and Rob sat shaking his head. Finally, Jennie spoke.

      “What about these girls’ parents?” she asked. “Don’t they see the tattoos?”

      “Most likely,” Annie said, “but if they do, the virgin girls just say it stands for Vineyard or victory or volunteer or volleyball or vegetarian or whatever ‘V’ word they can throw out. The girls with the VGs will say it means Vineyard Girl without explaining what that actually means. To be honest, most of these girls don’t get a lot of parental supervision, which is why they’re free to attend these parties in the first place. In a lot of these families, no one asks very many questions. And the tattoos are temporary, so nobody gets too concerned.” 

      Annie turned in her chair and caught sight of Jennie staring at her shoulder, which was covered with a plain gray t-shirt.

      “No, mom, I don’t have any tattoos, either V or VG,” she said. “I don’t go to these parties and have sex, and I’m a lot more discriminating when it comes to the boys I date. You should know that. After all … I learned it from you.”

      Next: Something hanging from a tree 


Chapter 5

      Independence Day was a big deal in the Greater Boston area, owing to the city’s prominent role in the nation’s history and the Revolutionary War. The city that considers itself the Birthplace of American Liberty calls its observance the “Harborfest Celebration,” a family-friendly event marked by historical reenactments, live entertainment and more. The highlight of the event is the performance with fireworks of the Boston Pops Orchestra.

      Independence Day would be celebrated in Boston on Monday this year, so Martha’s Vineyard had planned its own weekend celebration, featuring two full days’ worth of events, starting around noon on the 3rd with the annual parade. (The plan did not include having a team of crime scene technicians working diligently to uncover clues to the mystery laid out on Lighthouse Beach.) Still, the parade went off as planned at a new location, followed by Mayor Mackinnon’s patriotic speech. The celebration continued through the weekend, with concerts, exhibits and demonstrations, ending with fireworks just after dark on Sunday night. On Monday, when Boston held its Harborfest event, Evalynn Greene was still a missing person.

*  *  *

      Four weeks passed without any significant developments. The clothing found on the beach was photographed from every possible angle, tested for fingerprints (none were found) and subjected to every other type of forensic analysis available to police. A DNA test confirmed it was Evalynn’s clothes, and the blood on the shorts was hers, but everyone already knew that. Her friends and family were interviewed but nobody admitted knowing where she was or what might have happened to her. Police interviewed several of the LKs, but of course, they “knew nothing” about Evalynn Greene. When it was over, all police had was a missing girl and a collection of clothes, which were packed neatly into a cardboard box and stored with other boxes in an evidence locker.

      Evalynn Greene’s family had reported her missing, of course, and police had launched a massive search of the island, including buildings near the ferry landings on both sides of Nantucket Sound and sections of the mainland closest to the water, but after four weeks, Evalynn Greene was still a missing person and there were few, if any, new leads to follow.

      Then, on August 7, police received a tip that a body was seen was hanging from a tree in the Susan B. Terwilliger Wildlife Preserve just north and west from Edgartown. Two detectives were dispatched to the scene, where they found a department store mannequin wearing a long blonde wig and dressed in khaki shorts, a purple hooded sweatshirt and one black Converse tennis shoe. The Lions logo was pasted onto one side of the sweatshirt – just like the one found at the lighthouse – and a name was written in marker on the other side. It said, “Manney.”

      “This is somebody’s idea of a sick joke,” Annie said to her parents when news of the discovery hit the Packet office. “There is nobody in our school named ‘Manney.’ It’s obviously a play on the word ‘mannequin.’ Somebody is taunting the police because they can’t find any trace of Evalynn Greene.”

      No one was laughing two weeks later, however, when a girl’s naked body washed up on the banks of Sengekontacket Pond, a few hundred yards from the edge of the Terwilliger wildlife preserve. It was a teenaged girl with long blonde hair and blue eyes and wearing only a gold cross around her neck and one black Converse shoe. On the back of her right shoulder was a blood red tattoo of the letters V and G.

      Next: Evidence begins to emerge

     

Chapter 6

      An autopsy performed on Evalynn Greene’s body revealed a deep gash on the back of her head, probably caused by violent contact with a rough, solid object like a rock or a large piece of coral. There was evidence of a skull fracture and bruising and bleeding of the brain. The body was bloated, consistent with being under water for several days. Purple bruises around her ankles suggested she had been tied up for a period of time, or possibly even lashed to a heavy object that held her under water after she was killed. No salt water was found in her lungs, meaning she was dead when placed in the water. Police theorized that the lashings had somehow come undone, allowing the body to rise to the surface and eventually float along the coast eastward to the Sengekontacket shore. The easterly direction of the currents in Nantucket Sound told authorities that Evalynn had been placed in the water upstream from where she was found, possibly as far away as Oak Bluffs.

      Any trace evidence such as blood or semen had washed away long ago, and the condition of the body ruled out any determination of sexual activity, although it was assumed because of the VG tattoo on her shoulder that she had been sexually active. The examining physician, Dr. Willard Claymore, noted that the tattoo was made with permanent ink, unlike the temporary tattoos the LKs used, and was applied by an unprofessional hand. “This was no tattoo artist’s work,” Dr. Claymore told police. “It’s too uneven and a little crooked. Someone got hold of a pen, needle and ink and did this to her after any temporary tattoo would have faded out.”

      The following day, Chief Muddlety met with Jennie Covington at the Vineyard Packet office to explain the results of the autopsy. “I want you to get the information directly from me so there’s no confusion and before the rumor mill gets started,” Muddlety said. “I know you and Rob are responsible journalists, but this is the internet age. Anybody can post anything on social media and within hours it becomes truth, no matter how ridiculous or improbable it may seem.”   

      As Muddlety unfolded the story, Annie Covington was in a back corner of the newsroom looking through some files for a story she was writing about the changing climate of New England. She listened somewhat casually to Muddlety’s story until he got to the part about the body being placed in the water somewhere around Oak Bluffs. That was Oak Bluffs, Annie realized, the location of Vineyard High School where she was a student. Her instincts were immediately aroused, so with school starting in a few days, an idea began to form in Annie’s head.

      Next: An anonymous invitation


Chapter 7

      On Friday, August 27, Annie was working in the newsroom alone, trying to finish up the stories she was writing so she would have her weekend free for some end-of-summer fun. School was starting on Monday and Annie knew her time at the Packet would be limited after that. The newsroom door was propped open and Annie heard someone talking on a cell phone. She looked up to see Wanda Jackson, the Packet’s mail carrier, coming down the street with the day’s mail. Annie met her in the open doorway, thanked her for the thick bundle of letters and bills, and carried it to her desk. When she plopped down the stack, a small, square, purple envelope fell out on the floor. It was addressed to Annie with white ink, and the words “You’re Invited!” were written across the bottom.

      Annie opened the envelope to find an invitation to a “back to school” party. It was to be held the following Friday night on the beach near the old lighthouse “from dark until dawn … or until the last person finally goes home.” Some food and drinks would be provided, and other “recreational enhancements” would be allowed. Dress was casual and swimwear was strongly encouraged. The invitation ended with, “Everyone who IS anyone will attend this event, so don’t be left out. A wild time is 100% guaranteed.”

      The invitation was unsigned.      

* * *

      School started the following Monday, and Annie made a point of smiling and saying hello any time she passed members of the Lion Kings in the hall. There was no doubt in her mind who had sent the party invitation, and Annie wanted to soften the ground for a plan she was formulating in her mind. She needed more information about the Lion Kings and the parties they put on, which she had avoided until now.

      She also made a point of chatting up a boy named Calvin Benoit every chance she got. Calvin was 6-foot-3 and 240 pounds of chiseled muscle that served him well as the starting middle linebacker for Vineyard High’s football team. He had also dated Evalynn Greene for a while, and took it hard when her body was found on the bank of Sengekontacket Pond. And most importantly, he was on the football team with several members of the LKs, so he could get closer to them than Annie could.

      Annie was convinced that the LKs were responsible for Evalynn’s death – or at least would know how it happened – and she was determined to find out what they knew. She was also convinced that it would take a student like herself or Calvin to get through to the Lion Kings, who were arrogant enough to pull the stunts they pulled but cautious enough to avoid conflict with parents, school officials and especially the police. No one in the group was going to spill anything to someone in authority, that was certain, but when it came to high school girls? Especially pretty high school girls? Yeah, the Lion Kings liked them a lot, Annie knew. Who knows what they might say to a girl they were trying to impress?

      It took Annie a couple of days to formalize her plan, and when she did, she was eager to share it with Calvin Benoit.

      Next: Party time on the beach


Chapter 8

Friday, September 3

      About 50 kids had assembled on Lighthouse Beach for the “back to school” party, and true to its promise, things were getting pretty wild. Drinks were flowing, some drugs were passed around and occasionally a boy and girl would head off down the beach alone. The event had kicked off right at dark and had hit its stride somewhere around 11 p.m.  Roby Coin had been in high gear most of the night, cruising among the assembled masses and making sure that everybody was sufficiently lubricated, while also managing to hit on practically every girl on the beach.

      He was picking out the ones who were most approachable, making sure each girl had plenty to drink and maybe even a little extra boost, when one girl who arrived late caught his attention, and he forgot about all of the others. She was tall, maybe 5-foot-10, with corkscrews of chestnut hair and light gray eyes that sparkled even in the dim light of the beach. Dressed in cutoff denim shorts and a white halter top over a bikini, Annie Covington had made her presence known. Roby took one look at Annie and knew what he had to do.

***

      It was just after midnight when the music stopped and the beachgoers suddenly went quiet. All of the talking, laughing, drinking and dancing had come to a crashing halt, and a stunned crowd had congregated near the rocks to watch Officer Rick Hutchins of the Vineyard Police clap handcuffs on Roby Coin before escorting him up the hill toward the police car that was waiting on Water Street.

      Hutchins had approached Roby a few minutes earlier while the boy was sitting on the beach. In classic LK style, Roby had taunted Hutchins when he arrived, calling him “Chief Wiggins” — a reference to a bumbling police character from the Simpsons TV show — and telling him to “go home and play with your nightstick.” But Hutchins thought Roby didn’t look quite so cocky when he ducked his head through the open door and sat him in the back seat of the cruiser. Back down the hill, two other officers had taken Roby’s friends, Jake Winters and Freddie Boone, off to another section of beach and were questioning them about the Lion Kings and the death of Evalynn Greene.

      Funny thing about that: Witnesses said the LK bravado seemed to wear off quickly in the presence of the police, and faced with actual jail time, the two seemed more than happy to throw their pal Roby Coin under a bus. Chief Muddlety, meanwhile, had contacted Rob and Jennie Covington, who arrived within five minutes, still unsure of what had happened and how Annie was involved. The chief met them at the foot of the lighthouse hill.

      “What’s going on here, Chief?” Jennie asked. “Is Annie okay? Did she get hurt? Is she in some kind of trouble? I mean, dammit, Chief, what the hell is going on? Who are these people and why is that boy going to jail?”

      “Are you asking as a reporter or as Jennie’s mother?” Muddlety asked.

      “Does it make a difference?” Jennie snapped.

      “No, I suppose not,” Muddlety said. “Listen. Your daughter is a real hero. Something very bad was likely to happen here tonight, but Annie figured it all out and outsmarted the lot of them. She came here with a plan and she pulled it off without a hitch. And she was never in any real danger, although it might have seemed that way.”

      “Danger? What kind of danger?” Rob wanted to know.

      “It’s long story and it’s going to get pretty crazy down here,” Muddlety said. “Annie’s over there talking with friends. Why don’t I go get her and all of us can go someplace where she can tell you the story.”

      A half hour later, Jennie, Rob and Annie Covington sat in a booth at the Brew Ballew coffee shop with Chief Muddlety seated beside Annie. He took a drink of coffee, then tapped Annie gently on the shoulder. “Go ahead, Miss Covington. This was your night. Tell your parents what you did.”

      Annie took a drink of water and began:

      “Well, it all started about a week ago when I got an invitation to this ‘back to school’ party,” she said. “I could tell from the invitation what kind of party it was going to be, so I decided I should attend. I had a feeling this was exactly what had attracted Evalynn Greene the night she disappeared, so I wanted to see what would happen if I went to the party and saw girls getting hustled by one of the LKs. I wasn’t going to go in there unprotected, so I contacted Calvin Benoit and told him what I had in mind. He had previously dated Evalynn and I knew he’d have my back, so we made a plan to trick the LKs into thinking I wanted to be one of their V Girls.

      “The invitation called for beach wear, so I dressed in a bikini and covered it with a tank top and a pair of cutoff denim shorts. I wanted to attract attention, and I definitely did. Almost as soon as I arrived at the lighthouse, Roby Coin headed my way. We sat down on a rock and he started hitting on me with a string of lame pick-up lines, telling me how hot I looked and how we could go somewhere and have some fun. He offered to get me a drink, so I asked for some Tequila. While he was gone, I got a text from Calvin telling me that Roby was putting a roofie in my drink.

      When Roby came back, I pretended to take a sip, and then Calvin — acting like he was drunk — staggered past us and bumped into Roby, knocking him over backward onto the beach. Roby got up like he wanted to fight and started arguing with Calvin. While that was going on, I poured the drink into a plastic bottle I had in my back pocket and stashed it in the sand under a log.

      “Roby apparently thought better of fighting with Calvin, so when he came back, I pretended to chug the rest of the drink from the empty cup. Soon after that, I started slurring my words a little, so Roby went to get his two friends, Freddie and Jake. They all came over and the four of us walked up the beach to a secluded spot. I started staggering and acting like I was going to pass out, so I laid down on the sand and Roby knelt down beside me. He started touching my hair and rubbing the back of my shoulder, where the VG tattoo would go, then started to pull up my shirt. When he did that, Calvin, who had been following us, came up behind Roby and grabbed him around the neck. That freaked out Jake and Freddie and they took off running down the beach.

      “While Calvin held him down, I told Roby I knew what he had done to Evalynn Greene, and I was gonna make sure he paid the price for it. Calvin had already called the police, according to our plan, so we just sat there waiting for them to arrive.

      “Roby was belligerent as ever,” Annie continued. “He started laughing at me and calling me some names I won’t repeat. ‘Go ahead and call the police,’ he said. ‘Call the sheriff. Call the states. Call the goddamn FBI if you think you can prove anything, but you can’t and you know it. You didn’t see me put anything in your drink tonight and you can’t prove that I did anything to Evalynn Greene.’”

      “No,” I said, “I can’t ... but Calvin can.”

      “That’s right, Roby,” Calvin said. “I watched you drop a roofie in Annie’s drink, and I heard you tell your buddies that when it kicked in, you three could take her up the beach and have some fun with her, just like you did with Evalynn Greene. That’s when I texted to warn her that you were on your way.”

      “That’ll just be your word against mine,” Roby said. “I’ll deny everything.”

      “Then deny this,” Calvin said. He clicked on his cell phone and started playing the video he had shot a half hour earlier. A few minutes in, you could see and hear Jake Winters telling Roby they needed to back off the plan. As the video played, here is what they heard:

      Jake: “Getting girls drunk is one thing, Roby, but you know what happened to that other girl the last time we used Rohypnol.  I don’t want any part of another date rape, buddy boy.”

      Roby: “That was an accident and you know it. Evalynn got wasted and hit her head on that rock.”

      Jake: “She got wasted because you dosed her, Roby. She hit her head after you raped her and she tried to get away from you, staggered and fell. Ain’t nobody gonna call that an accident.”

      Roby: “Don’t try to play innocent with me, Jake. It was you and Freddie’s idea to leave her clothes there on the beach and to hang that mannequin in the park. You and your stupid pranks. I told you to burn the clothes but you had to pull your little stunt. You thought we were invincible and could get away with anything because we’re LKs, but I’ll tell you what. If I go down for this, you two go down with me, so I strongly suggest we stick together whatever happens from now on. So let’s go do this and get it done.”

      With that, Calvin clicked off the video. Roby looked at Annie and half-way smiled. He didn’t know what to say.

       “I told Roby that Jake and Freddie were back down the beach talking with the Vineyard cops. That, plus Calvin’s video plus the tainted drink he gave me—which I poured into a container—should be all the police will need to put him away for a good long time.

      “And that’s when Officer Hutchins and the other cops arrived and took Roby Coin away,” she said.

***

      Nobody spoke for a few minutes while Annie’s words settled on her mother and dad. Finally, Jennie asked her daughter the obvious question: “Annie, what you did was remarkable, but you told us you were going to a friend’s house tonight to watch movies. Why in the hell didn’t you tell us what you were planning to do?”

      “Seriously, mom? If I had told you, would you have said, ‘Oh sure, Annie, go right ahead. You have our blessing?’”

      “Well … no. Of course we wouldn’t,” Jennie said.

      “No, you wouldn’t,” Annie said, “but you were a reporter for a long time, mom, and you took your share of chances. Some of the tricks you pulled could have turned out badly, but you always had a plan and you executed it to perfection. And dad, you pulled your share of shenanigans to get stories that no one wanted you to get, am I right? Well now I’m trying to be a reporter and I’m practicing the lessons I learned from you. Just like you, I took precautions. I had Calvin for backup, and I worked out the plan in detail before I tried to pull it off. Isn’t that what you would have done?”

      No one at the table could argue with the logic, so nobody even tried. Rob looked at Jennie and Jennie looked back at Rob and they both looked at Chief Muddlety, who got up from the table and started to leave. “I think they’re gonna need me back at the lighthouse,” he said. “We can talk again tomorrow if you want to. I know you’ll be writin’ a story about all of this, so give me a call. Thanks for the coffee, and you have a pleasant evening now.”

      When he was gone, Rob got up to pay the check, followed by Jennie with Annie trailing behind. “She’s right, you know,” Rob said to Jennie as they were leaving the table. “I remember some of the stunts you pulled with your cop friend Sammie Ellsworth while tracking down those missing women, and how you went out on a limb looking for that journalist who went AWOL. And don’t even get me started on that time you put yourself in a room with the Candy Man, right in the middle of his killing spree.”

      “Yeah, and how about you, Mr. Know No Danger?” Jennie shot back. “Why don’t you write a story that enrages the bad guy, draws him out of hiding and sends him racing toward our house? Or maybe we could pretend to have another big fight in front of witnesses so you can set yourself up as a target? Or maybe you’d like to threaten a police chief or two to force them to give you the information you need? Like Annie said, we’ve both had our share of adventures covering stories or writing books.”

      “Yes, we have, but Annie was right about something else,” Rob said. “We always thought about what we were doing, and we always followed a plan.”

      He turned and put one arm around Annie and the other one around his wife. “It’s been a rather interesting night,” Rob said in the understatement of the week. “What say we all go home, drink a toast to a job well done and head on off to bed?”

      “You and Mom can go ahead,” Annie said, “but I’m still running on adrenalin. I think I’ll walk over to the Packet office first. I’m a journalist, too, remember? And I’ve got a story to write.” 

 

The End

Wednesday, November 17, 2021

Give 'Double Play' for Christmas

“Double Play” by Fairmont author Marshall Scott Shields makes an excellent Christmas gift for family and friends. This unique, two-for-one mystery continues the exploits of journalist-sleuths Rob and Jennie Covington in two complete novels contained in one bargain-priced volume.

In the first book, “Blue Light Night,” the Covingtons are at home on a sunny Sunday morning when a strange little girl shows up next door, asking for her mommy. While Jennie searches for the girl’s mother, Rob is drawn into the world of a serial killer whose bizarre methods leave female victims all around the greater Boston area.
In book two, “Out of the Darkness,” a well-known journalist goes missing, and the Covingtons follow a cleverly-disguised set of clues to track his whereabouts. Meanwhile, a man in a coma has a shocking revelation and an unexpected danger threatens both Rob and Jennie, bringing Detective Sammie Ellsworth into the case.
"Double Play" is available from Amazon by clicking this link:


Saturday, October 23, 2021

The Four Weeks of Halloween - Week 4


Today begins the last week of the Scott Shields Book Writer Four Weeks of Halloween celebration. To commemorate the occasion, everyone is encouraged to buy the last of my four books and read it between now and Halloween night, October 31.

Week 4: “Double Play” – This unique, two-for-one mystery continues the exploits of journalist-sleuths Rob and Jennie Covington in two complete novels contained in one bargain-priced volume.

In the first book, “Blue Light Night,” the Covingtons are at home on a sunny Sunday morning when a strange little girl shows up next door, asking for her mommy. While Jennie searches for the girl’s mother, Rob is drawn into the world of a serial killer whose bizarre methods leave female victims all around the greater Boston area.

In book two, “Out of the Darkness,” a well-known journalist goes missing, and the Covingtons follow a cleverly-disguised set of clues to track his whereabouts. Meanwhile, a man in a coma has a shocking revelation and an unexpected danger threatens both Rob and Jennie, bringing Detective Sammie Ellsworth into the case.

I hope you enjoyed these mysteries in the run-up to All Hallows Eve. Thanks for reading, and have a frightfully freaky and fun-filled Halloween.