Simply Lies

Chapter 45

The deputy sheriff was named Billy Dawson. He was tall with broad shoulders, and around forty-five.

Dawson said, “Fauquier County is pretty big, but very rural and safe. Now, you have some areas that aren’t as safe as others, but most of what we see here are property crimes.” He looked at the blood on the walls of Oxblood’s bedroom. “Not this.”

“I’m sure,” said Sullivan. “What can you tell us about Oxblood?”

“So you had a murder down in your neck of the woods that had similar elements?”

“The writing on the wall principally, yes.”

Dawson led them into that room. “Heard the phrase a million times. But you don’t see it written on the walls of homicide scenes. So you think it’s the same killer?”

“Trying to piece that together. So, Oxblood?”

“I knew Daryl. He worked on my truck and a couple of my ATVs, and some of my brother’s stuff, too. He kept to himself. His mother was the same. Just nice, quiet people.”

“Did you know anything about them before they came here?”

“No.”

“How long had he been dead?” asked Gibson.

“A few days, the ME said.”

Gibson looked at Cole. “You didn’t get suspicious when he didn’t leave the house?”

“I was gone for nearly a week. Visiting family over in West Virginia. And like Billy said, Daryl kept to himself.”

“Didn’t where he worked report him missing?” asked Gibson.

Dawson said, “I talked to them. They said Daryl had taken a few days off.”

“Any family pictures in the house that would show his father?” asked Gibson.

Dawson said, “Funny thing, no family photos. In fact, no photos at all.”

“You find his phone?” asked Sullivan.

“No. We pulled the phone records, though. He didn’t make many calls and the folks he texted or emailed all dealt with normal stuff. There were no incoming calls.”

Gibson looked at the shelves of comic books. “Your guys go through all those?”

“We looked through some. I guess adults collect stuff like that, baseball cards, you name it. Maybe sell it on eBay.”

“Only he wasn’t online,” pointed out Gibson. “There are no electronics in the house that I saw.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Dawson. “So what do you think is going on?”

Sullivan shrugged. “What we’re trying to find out.”

“Mind if we look around?” asked Gibson.

“Knock yourselves out. I’m not too proud to ask for help. I can email you the file we have, Detective Sullivan.”

“Sounds good, thanks.”

Dawson and Barbara Cole left.

Sullivan eyed Gibson. “Thoughts?”

She didn’t want to share what was on her mind right now, but Sullivan looked determined.

“I don’t think we know enough to draw any preliminary, much less definite, conclusions. Why don’t I search the upstairs and you check the rest of the house? If something pops we each call the other.”

“Okay. Do you really think this is a coincidence — the two phrases on the wall, I mean?”

“There must be a connection. We just have to find it.” What she didn’t say was that the handwriting on Oxblood’s wall was quite different from the handwriting back at Stormfield. But Sullivan might have already noted that.

Now that Gibson had committed herself to solving this case, as the only way to protect herself and her kids, she wanted to do it as rapidly as possible. Thus, she was itching for Sullivan to leave, because she had seen something that she wanted to check out.

As soon as he left she made a beeline for the comics.

They were all neatly laid in their respective piles. All except for one.

On top of one pile a comic book was sticking out, like a sore thumb, she thought. She didn’t know if the cops had done it, or someone else. Like Ms. Frazier?

She put on latex gloves and picked it up. She opened it and stopped.

Was that blood on the inside of the cover? She looked closer; it seemed like blood. Had Oxblood’s killer taken the time to pick up this particular comic book?

Then she noted the initials in the heart shape next to the drop of blood. BD and RE?

She had brought an evidence pouch with her and slipped the comic book into it, then folded it over and put it into her bag. Gibson was sure that someone, either the killer or killers, or Clarisse/Julia Frazier, had picked up this comic book out of all the others and opened it to that page. And seen the initials inside that heart. And what had that meant to them or her?

And what does it mean to me?