The Curse Оf Hollister House

The restaurant Cass had chosen was nice but casual, unlike the elegance of the steak house the previous week. I was glad I’d decided on slacks rather than a dress. I didn’t want to appear overdressed any more than I wanted to appear underdressed. Not that Cass would care what I was wearing one way or another, but life in the Big Apple had made me a bit more conscientious about my attire than I’d been when I’d lived in Foxtail Lake as a teen.

“Didn’t this used to be a pancake house?”

“It was. Grizzly’s was open for breakfast and lunch only seasonally, from the beginning of May through the end of September, when the campground and cabins were open. Then, about five years ago, the place was sold, and the new owner opens year-round, but only for dinner.”

“There used to be big, family-size booths rather than these tables and chairs, and the gas fireplace in the corner used to be a wood stove.”

Cass nodded. “The new owner wanted to upgrade the interior, so he stripped it down to the studs and rebuilt. The log exterior is the same, and the food, while different, is as good as it always was.”

“What do you usually get?” I asked, picking up the menu.

“Sometimes I go for a burger or sandwich. They’re all good, and the portions are large. But my favorite is the beef stew and corn bread. You can always take your leftovers home for lunch tomorrow if you can’t finish whatever you choose.”

I set the menu aside. “Beef stew sounds perfect. And I’ll have a glass of wine and a glass of water to drink.”

Cass waved to the waiter and placed our order. When he left to fetch our beverages, I asked Cass about this most recent murder case. I knew that bringing up such a gruesome subject at dinner might not be proper etiquette, but I’d been curious all day and couldn’t wait to get some answers.

“As I briefly mentioned in my text, Patricia Long was a seventeen-year-old high school student who was last seen by her parents on Saturday evening, when she left for a date with her boyfriend, Rich Cutter. Apparently, Patricia’s parents were not a fan of the boy Patricia had been dating, and they argued before she left. When she didn’t come home when expected, they figured she’d taken off on one of her classic cooling-off periods. When she wasn’t home by last night, they called me. On a hunch, I took Milo to look in the same area of the forest where Tracy’s remains were found the previous week and found Patricia buried not far away.”

“I take it you’ve spoken to the boyfriend?”

Cass nodded. “He took Patricia to a party, and the two argued while they were there. He claimed that Patricia had been moody all evening and he just wanted to relax and have fun, so he left her chatting with friends while he went outside to smoke pot with some of the guys. Based on what multiple partygoers have told me, it seems Patricia found fault in his choice and let him know it. He told me he snapped back about not wanting to deal with her mood swings and she left.”

“Left the party?”

“As far as I can tell, yes. According to Rich, she stormed back into the house, but no one I have spoken to who was at the party remembers seeing her coming back inside after she went out to confront Rich. I figure either Patricia left the party at that point or Rich is lying and he left with her but didn’t want me to know that because he killed her.”

“Did anyone remember seeing Rich back inside after Patricia went out to confront him?” I wondered.

“Yes, but most of the kids I spoke to were unclear on the timeline. Some were under the impression he was at the party the whole time, while others were certain that he left and then returned.”

“So he could have left, killed Patricia, and then returned to the party?”

“Exactly. Based on what I’ve been able to unravel, most if not all of the teens in attendance were drinking and smoking pot. The witness statements I’ve collected have been so varied as to be worthless. What I do know is that it seems possible to me that the boyfriend left the party, killed Patricia, buried her in a shallow grave, and then went back to the party. His only alibi is his presence there, but because no one really seems certain whether he was there the entire time or if he left and came back, his story isn’t much of an alibi.”

“Did he have blood on his clothes? In his car? There must have been blood if he killed her.”

“I didn’t find any clothing with blood on it in his home, but he could have disposed of the soiled articles had there been any. His car is clean, but he could very well have killed Patricia after they arrived at the burial site. It makes sense to me that Rich might have been drunk and stoned and killed her in a fit of rage, but my instinct is that he isn’t the killer. I’ll just follow the evidence and see where I end up.”

I smiled at the waiter when he brought our drinks. He seemed very nice and even took the time to provide the history of the wine I’d be sampling even though I’d simply ordered the house wine. After he left, I continued the conversation. “So if the boyfriend is not your guy, any clue to who might have done it?”

Cass took a sip of his beer before answering. “I’ve spent the entire day interviewing the kids who attended the party, as well as Patricia’s family and other classmates. Three people stood out as having both motive and opportunity in addition to Rich. Gayleen Hamilton was one of Patricia’s best friends, at least until recently. It seems that Gayleen and Rich used to date until she walked in on Rich and Patricia in a bedroom at a party several weeks ago.”

“Ouch.”

“Ouch is right. According to the teens I spoke to who were friends of both Patricia and Gayleen, the situation between them became extremely explosive. Gayleen keyed Patricia’s car, and Patricia retaliated by taking a can of spray paint to the mural Gayleen had created in the quad at the high school. Both girls seem to have been actively participating in an ongoing war that had left their other friends on edge. When Patricia showed up at the party with Rich, the kids who were with Gayleen said that she went a little bit nuts and vowed to take care of ‘the backstabbing witch’ once and for all.”

“It definitely sounds like she had a motive,” I commented.

“It does. I couldn’t find a single partygoer who would admit to seeing Patricia and Gayleen together, though, so I have no proof that Gayleen might have followed through with her threat to take care of her nemesis in a permanent manner, but I’m still working on that.”

I took a sip of my wine. It was a local brand with which I was unfamiliar, and very good, just as the waiter had promised. I’d have to find out where I could buy some.

“You said you had three suspects other than Rich.”

“Suspect number two is a teacher at the high school. He is a first-year teacher who very unwisely showed up at the party attended by his students. According to some of the other teens at the party, it seemed as if Patricia and this teacher have been engaged in a flirtation of sorts. He assured me that his relationship with all his students is nothing but professional, but I’m not convinced of that.”

“I agree that you should have your suspicions. If he did have only a teacher/student relationship with the kids, why would he be at the party in the first place?”

“I agree. His denial of any sort of inappropriate behavior is suspect in my book. I’m following up on things, and I still have others to speak to, including his peers at the school. I don’t know for certain whether he is involved in Patricia’s death, but I can imagine a scenario in which, if he did have an inappropriate relationship with a student, he could have killed her to protect his secret.”

“Sure. That makes sense. And suspect number three?”

“A student named Walter Young, who was at the party but had not been invited. According to some of Patricia’s friends, Walter was obsessed with Patricia, who was a very pretty girl. Some of the students I spoke to even went so far as to say that Walter was stalking Patricia, which was the reason he was at the party.”

“And what does Walter have to say about that?”

“I haven’t been able to track him down yet, but I will.”

We paused our conversation when the waiter delivered our salads. We both must have been hungry because it seemed that there was some sort of mutual agreement between us that we eat them before we began to speak again. It sounded like Cass had four solid suspects in this case, but none of them would probably come into play if Cass could establish a link to Tracy’s murder. I was curious to see what he thought about that. I was also curious to find out what the sheriff thought and how that would affect Tracy’s case. The man who was still being held in custody for that murder couldn’t possibly have killed Patricia.

The waiter picked up our salad plates and delivered our entrées, and I asked Cass what he thought about a connection between the two most recent murder cases.

“Honestly, I will be surprised if there turns out to be a single killer. While there are similarities, they seem intentional. I suspect a copycat.”

“I think so as well. It almost looks as if the killer duplicated the details that have been publicized in Tracy’s death to make it seem like the same person killed both girls. What does the sheriff think?”

Cass paused to take a bite of his stew before he commented. “The sheriff is in a tough spot. On the one hand, he has already publicly announced that Buck Darwin killed Tracy. Buck was in custody when Patricia was killed, so we know he couldn’t have killed her; by taking a stand that the two murders are related, he would basically be admitting he was wrong about Buck in the first place. On the other hand, if he comes out and says that the two deaths appear not to be connected, he is saving face with Buck, all the while informing people that we have not one but two killers in our community. Either way, I think he is screwed in terms of instilling confidence in his abilities in the people who voted him into office.”

“Is Buck still in custody?”

“For now. The sheriff is going to have to take some sort of action and either come out in favor of or against the one-killer theory by tomorrow, I would think. It will be interesting to see how he handles things. Would you like dessert?”

I sat back in my chair. “No, thanks. I’m stuffed. I will take a to-go box, as you suggested. You were correct when you said the leftover stew would make a wonderful lunch.”

“So, how did Paisley’s piano lesson go?” Cass asked, seemingly from out of the blue. I supposed he might want to talk about something other than work.

“She seems like a natural. She didn’t have a way to practice at home, so I bought her a keyboard and a pair of headphones.”

“That was nice of you. I remember that you used to have a keyboard that you would bring around when the two of us practiced our songs for the band we talked about creating but never got around to. Maybe you could have just given that one to her and saved yourself the outlay.”

“I think Gracie got rid of that old thing a long time ago. It was never the same after it fell on the floor and the frame cracked. Paisley seemed thrilled with her gift, and it didn’t cost all that much. Besides, I lived very frugally for a lot of years and managed to put away a nice nest egg, so I can afford to buy a gift for my friends every now and then.”

Cass chuckled. “Good to know. I need a new truck.”

“Not that kind of gift,” I countered. “Besides, every time I’ve seen you since I’ve been back, you’ve been driving an official sheriff’s vehicle.”

“That’s because my truck is in the shop. Again. The poor thing has served me well, but she’s getting tired. I know I should break down and buy a new one, but every time I think I’ve made the decision to trade her in, I find myself fixing her instead.”

“That’s because you are a loyal and sentimental guy. The fact that you value the people and things you have in your life is one of the things I find the most endearing about you.”

“Endearing?” Cass grinned.

“Don’t get a big head; I find a lot of people endearing.” I glanced at the check the waiter had left on the table. “Are you ready?”

“I am. Just let me pay this, and we’ll be on our way.”

The ride back to Gracie’s was a mostly silent one until a thought occurred to me. “You said that Patricia had scratch marks on her face the same as Tracy, but they weren’t as deep. Do you know if they were delivered pre- or postmortem?”

“The medical examiner said it appeared that the scratch marks were delivered after the victim was already dead, and while they penetrated the skin, they didn’t go so deep as to penetrate bone, the way the claw marks on Stella and Tracy’s face had.”

“And what about Tracy’s claw wounds? Were they pre- or postmortem?”

“It is hard to know for certain when the marks were delivered because Tracy’s remains were partially decayed. I pulled the files for both Stella and Hillary. In both those cases, like Tracy, the remains were decayed, so whether the marks were delivered before or after death could not be ascertained, but in all three cases the scratches were deep, and it was determined they were caused by a tool of some sort.”