Under Suspicion

CHAPTER ONE

Oakwood, a small, peaceful North Florida town, barely had any crime outside domestic issues, petty theft, and small drug busts, but that had changed overnight in one of the most grisly crimes ever to occur in Oakwood. The little town boasted its original stores and shops that were often painted and repaired instead of remodeled, leaving the town with the quaint appearance of yesteryear. Entrepreneurs rented old closed up shops, painted walls, stocked and shelved wares from their particular trade, finally opening the door to a dribble of customers. Most new shop owners lasted a year or fro the term of their lease, and then some new eager person with an equally inflamed dream followed, also failing within the first year.

Unfortunately the town never grew commercially and suffered a scarcity of available jobs. The positions that were available only paid minimum wage, which left many working folks barely making a living. However, despite the unavailability of jobs, the town was still small enough, the county rural and under-populated enough, so that it was a booming area for home and land sales for retirees just wanting to escape crowded, polluted cities. Since most of the land was owned by the descendants of the original Oakwood settlers, who were beginning to sell off unused acreage due to taxes that took a big bite out of their savings, there was plenty of land available and a continuous stream of folks coming in from other locations to buy. Marlowe Realty spent thousands of dollars yearly advertising, which brought many to its doors. Yet, Maggie Lowell, who had worked for Marlowe Realty longer than anyone else, even longer than the present owner, would never walk through its doors again.

The last day Maggie came to work began on a cool November morning. She was usually the first one to arrive at the real estate office, but the lengthy telephone call she was engaged in caused her to pull alongside the road a couple of times when she became too emotional to watch where she was driving. When she arrived at work, Brianna Marlowe, the owner’s wife, was there ahead of her.

Brianna hugged her arms about herself to stay warm while the heat whirred from the vents, gradually heating the building. She tried to concentrate on paperwork on her desk, but couldn't. She was much too disconcerted to do anything but keep thinking about the argument with her husband, Preston, last night.

Furious because her friend, Investigator David Sherman, called her while she and Preston prepared for bed, Preston went a little crazy. He paced and stomped the floor for a good twenty minutes after she hung up the phone, yelling all the while that he was tired of sharing his wife with another man. When he fell on the bed, exhausted from his rant, he wasn't finished yet until he declared hotly, It's me or Sherman, Brianna. I won't put up with this any longer.

When they woke up the following morning, Preston wouldn't talk to her. She mentioned going to breakfast, as they frequently did before going to the office, but he ignored her. He stalked from the house, tossing over his shoulder that he had an appointment at the Riverbend office, a second real estate agency run by his brother Donald.

Depressed, and wondering how she was ever going to resolve the ongoing issue between them without breaking off her friendship with David, she had come to work early only to find the coffee canister empty and the office feeling like a refrigerator.

She needed someone to talk to, which was the reason she came to the office early, hoping to catch Maggie alone before the other realtors and office personnel arrived. When the front door of the real estate agency opened and closed, Brianna knew without looking that it would be Maggie. She came across the reception area, walking slowly, her attention drawn to the conversation via her cell phone.

I’m not going to… Maggie reported indignantly and stopped in mid-sentence.

Bent from osteoporosis, Maggie’s shoulders were more stooped than usual this morning. She wore charcoal slacks, a maroon blouse, and a heavy black knitted sweater that hung loosely on her tall frame. Her thick soled shoes with elevated heels padded softly on the carpeted floor. With white hair standing out starkly against the dark clothing, her facial features reflected agitation and frustration at once as she pressed the phone to her ear.

Maggie went into her office, one of several identical cubicles that lined a long hallway. A glass partition from waist high to ceiling provided Brianna a good view as Maggie closed the door, something she rarely did. Her voice, louder than normal, carried through the thin wall and Brianna could make out broken phrases that accompanied anxious pacing. She heard, I told you how I feel… and I can’t keep doing this. The conversation went on for several minutes. Even after Maggie ended the call, she continued pacing, and Brianna knew something was wrong. Her own problems were temporarily forgotten.

Brianna hesitated about approaching Maggie when she seemed so upset. Yet, they had been close friends since Brianna got her real estate license and started working for her husband’s agency. To do nothing would seem cold and indifferent, so Brianna stepped from her office into the hallway and knocked on Maggie’s door.

Turning her head sharply, Maggie was surprised to see Brianna, so engrossed in her phone conversation earlier she hadn’t noticed anyone else at the office. She opened the door then turned her back on Brianna, her behavior completely out of character. She paced a couple more trips back and forth across the front part of her small office, then went behind her desk and sat down in her old swivel office chair. Good manners and courtesy were trademarks of Maggie’s personality and any diversion toward the opposite indicated something was wrong.

Maggie, are you okay?

Maggie was trying hard to get control and she manufactured a contrived smile for Brianna. She waved her hand with a shrug and said, I’m fine. It’s just one of those days. You’re here early today.

Yes, Preston had an early appointment with Donald in Riverbend and woke me up, so I decided to come on in and turn on the heat. It turned cold last night. We had to use a blanket.

I had to pull out one of my blankets, too. It’s probably just a cold snap and will pass. I bet we’ll have a nice warm Thanksgiving, she said, her voice shaky and her words broken. Is the coffee made? she added.

No, I didn’t make any because the coffee can was empty. Why don’t we go to the Eat and Run Cafe and have a cup. I can stop on the way back and buy a can, and the office should be warmed up by then.

Brianna, I’m not good company right now, although I admit I’d love one of their steaming cups of coffee this morning. Her voice was broken and nervous like someone fighting back tears.

Then come on, let’s go. I’m buying.

Eat and Run Cafe was a wonderful little family restaurant that served man-sized country breakfasts and the best coffee in town. Their lunch menu consisted of country-style fried favorites such as: fried chicken, fried steak, fried shrimp, fried fish, and all with two vegetable choices and hot rolls or hush puppies. A wonderful selection of freshly made salads was available for anyone counting calories or watching their cholesterol. The dinner menu was a bit more formal, but catered mainly to steak lovers. The little café never was short on business. Some called it the watering hole of Oakwood.

Maggie and Brianna drove in separate cars, arriving about the same time. They went inside together and had to wait a couple of minutes before a table was vacated. They stood near the door, observing people they knew, smiling, and throwing up a hand to acknowledge friendly greetings. Maggie was antsy and nervous; noted by the sound of her shaky voice when she spoke. It was hard for her to stand still and she shifted from one foot to the other. She looked impatient but Brianna knew it had nothing to do with waiting, but rather, with that phone call back at the office.

A couple they knew motioned to them, offering their table when they were ready to leave. The restaurant was noisy with talk and chatter, but not uncomfortably. The sound of voices gave off a friendly atmosphere. Brianna and Maggie took the table and waited for the waitress to clean off the dirty dishes before taking their order.

When they finally had steaming cups of wonderful aromatic coffee in front of them, Brianna said, Maggie, I don’t want to pry, but if something is bothering you, you know I’m a good listener.

It’s nothing, Brianna. I’ll be fine as soon as I simmer down. Everything will be fine.

Well, just so you know I’m here for you…

Maggie interrupted her. Isn’t that your friend, Investigator Sherman from the Sherriff’s Department, at the door? She had met David when he had lunched with her and Brianna a couple of times.

Brianna saw David about the same time Maggie did and smothered an inward groan, reminded of last night’s argument with Preston. It wouldn’t do for Preston to catch them together, even in a public place. She was glad he had gone to Riverbend because it was customary for him to start his day at Eat and Run Café, sometimes with Brianna.

David spotted them, and with a big smile walked over to their table. He was dressed in a freshly pressed suit with a pale blue shirt and a complementary tie, looking younger than his years with a handsome face that drew frequent attention from females. Good morning, ladies. How do you like this cold snap we’re having?

It feels like coffee weather, Maggie chuckled, trying to sound light-hearted.

Well, the coffee is on me, David said, pulling out a chair and sitting down, not even considering that he might not be invited or welcome. He motioned to the waitress to bring him a cup of coffee.

The three of them were in idle conversation when Brianna glanced up and saw her husband standing at the door gazing toward her table. She winced at the look on his face; still, she smiled warmly and waved at him, suspecting he canceled his Riverbend appointment since he hadn’t had time to go there and come back. She could tell when he was angry. His face turned red, his lips pursed, and a deep vertical line formed between his brows. He didn’t acknowledge her smile or wave. He was furiously jealous of Brianna’s association with Investigator Sherman, whom Brianna had known before she and Preston married. It had caused disharmony in their marriage from the beginning, and last night had been one of their worst arguments yet.

Preston spun about and stalked out the door. Brianna jumped up to go after him.

David grabbed her wrist. Hey, what’s the rush?

Through the plate glass window she could see Preston all ready getting into his car. She sat back down, dismally shaking her head. Preston was just at the door.

Uh oh, David intoned. He didn’t need to ask what the problem was. He all ready knew. He had arrested Preston Marlowe a couple of years back and charged him with murder when scrapings from beneath the murder victim’s finger nails eventually led to him. As it turned out the woman had accidently scratched him while he dined at the restaurant where she worked and had been murdered that same night after she went home. Marlowe was exonerated and released; however, coupled with his jealously of Brianna he never forgave David and bad blood ran thick between them.

Is there a problem? Maggie asked.

Maggie, I suppose this just isn’t a good day for either of us, Brianna replied, realizing that she and David’s friendship must look suspicious inasmuch as her husband had gone stalking from the restaurant.

Maggie drank the last of her coffee and looked at her watch. Well, folks, I have to be going. I have to meet a client in about thirty minutes. Thank you for the coffee, David.

Anytime, David replied with a boyish smile.

Upset about Preston, Brianna said, I guess I’d better go, too.

Thank you for your very brief company, ladies.

Anytime, Maggie returned with a contrived grin.

Brianna hung back until Maggie was out of hearing range. Preston has ordered me not to see or talk to you anymore, David. Things are really getting out of hand.

Well, you know what to do about that. Tell him the truth about us. We’ve been through this before, Brianna. Then changing the subject, he asked, What’s wrong with Maggie this morning? She seemed nervous and strung out.

I don’t know. She wouldn’t discuss it, but she was talking on the phone this morning and was very upset with whomever she talked.

Not an irate client, I hope.

I don’t think so. The conversation sounded too personal.

Well, I hope things are okay with her. She’s a nice old lady.Yes, she is.

David gazed directly into her eyes. Don’t let Marlowe upset you, Brianna.

Brianna shrugged. He all ready has. I guess I’ll see you sometime, she said before she walked away.

Brianna had several appointments to show properties that day and was away from the office much of the time until the end of the day. She saw Maggie briefly before they left the office, neither of them saying much because Maggie seemed in an unusual hurry to get home. Brianna watched her walk out the door, calling over her shoulder, I’ve got to run. See you tomorrow.

But tomorrow would never come for Maggie and it would be the last time Brianna would ever see her dear friend again.

***

Preston was anything but friendly toward Brianna that evening. They argued as they always did when David’s name came up. To find her sitting in the restaurant with David angered and upset him terribly. Brianna did her best to mollify him with explanations that she didn’t know David would be at the restaurant, and that he had invited himself to her table. Nothing she said took the heat from Preston’s argument. Each of them slept as far away from the other as possible without falling off the edge of the bed throughout a restless night.

Now, the following day, Brianna sat transfixed across the desk from a gray haired man whose voice was soft and his smile delightful. Her mouth hung open in an O before she blurted out, You’re not kidding, are you? Her downcast mood spiraled with one quick shot of adrenaline.

His smile widened. No, Mrs. Marlowe, I’m not kidding. You’re twelve weeks pregnant.

Oh my God! Brianna laughed excitedly, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree. She had waited two years for this moment, nearly despairing that it would ever come. I can’t wait to tell Maggie. Those home remedies she told me to try have to be the reason I got pregnant.

Dr. Edmond Bryant’s eyes glowed with humor. I believe your husband might have had a little something to do with it.

Brianna giggled. I suppose he’ll have to be told, too, she joked.

Brianna left the doctor's office, never more ecstatic than she was now. A radiant smile lit her beautiful porcelain face as she drove toward her husband’s real estate office. 

Marlowe Realty dated back to the early 1900’s surviving a crucial period when Preston’s grandfather, Jacob Jarred Marlowe, beat the crash of 1929 by investing in land that later made him one of the wealthiest men in the state of Florida. Since J. J. Marlowe’s only son became a doctor, the old man focused his attention on Preston, his eldest grandson, as the only hope for the extension of his legacy. From Preston’s early youth J. J. started preparing him for taking over his real estate business when the time came.

When old J.J. finally keeled over with a fatal heart attack not long after Preston came home from college, Preston stepped into his grandfather’s hypothetical shoes, taking J.J.’s nameplate off the door and putting his own in its place. He nurtured and expanded his grandfather’s accomplishments, eventually opening a second agency in Riverbend over in the next county.

After his marriage to Brianna, Preston, like his father before him, hoped to fulfill a dream that never materialized for old J.J. He wanted to fill J.J.’s five bedroom mansion with children. Two years of hoping for a child had nearly met with despair for him and Brianna. Now, when Brianna should be ecstatic to share the good news with him, all she could think about was telling Maggie.

Maggie had worked for Marlowe Realty for nearly fifty years, beginning back when old J.J. Marlowe ran it. She was sort of an icon in the agency and the community. An elderly lady in her late seventies, she continued to be ambitious and energetic in the job she loved. Brianna found herself drawn to Maggie after they met and became close friends. Maggie became like a second mother to her.

Maggie was a serious personality, but often made light of things that concerned her, seeming more carefree than she actually was. She never wanted anyone to know when she felt bad or when her world wasn’t going smoothly. Parts of Maggie’s life were kept private behind that rather dry humor she often displayed.

Brianna pulled into the real estate parking lot. Leaves from oak and pecan trees covered the ground and were windswept across the parking lot. She parked and stepped out on the pavement in front of the white stucco and steel structure.

Walking spritely to the door and on inside, she expected to hear the usual background music against the silence that was frequently interrupted by telephones ringing. Instead, the buzz of people talking greeted her.

Someone had turned off the music.

***

Four prancing realtors stood gathered around the desk of Karalee, the receptionist, sharing excited comments back and forth.

Brianna stopped just inside the door, observing the tense group. When the door closed behind her with a clang, everyone looked up and stopped talking at once. No one seemed anxious to break the sudden silence. Raising the palms of her hands and shoulders in a questioning gesture, Brianna implored, What’s going on?

It’s Maggie, Brianna, Holly Marston said timidly, a woebegone expression creasing the wrinkles in her middle-aged face.

Brianna stopped breathing momentarily. She sucked in a quick breath and stared at the unsmiling faces. Ripe fear rose in the pit of her stomach. Maggie wasn’t a young woman and the words heart attack came to mind.

What about Maggie? she inquired anxiously, sudden tension causing her voice to shake.

She’s vanished, just plain out disappeared. Karalee said gently, knowing how much Brianna cared for Maggie.

Disappeared? I don’t understand. People don’t just disappear, she argued, swallowing back a knot in her throat. Who told you?

Maggie’s daughter-in-law, Christy Lowell, called here to see if Maggie came to work, Karalee explained. She hasn’t heard from Maggie since late yesterday afternoon and is extremely worried about her.

Is not hearing from her unusual? Maybe Maggie had an early appointment this morning, Brianna suggested.

According to Christy Lowell they have a system so Christy can check on her and make sure she’s okay. Christy said that because her mother-in-law lives alone in such an isolated area Maggie calls her like clockwork every evening after she arrives home and every morning after she wakes up. This morning she didn’t call.

Did Maggie call Christy yesterday evening after she got home from work?

Yes, Christy said Maggie called her right after she arrived home.

Has Christy called Maggie’s home and cell phone this morning?

She called both, but she gets a recording that the cell phone number is not in service and the home phone keeps giving a busy signal.

Could the batteries have run down on the cell phone? Brianna asked, feeling tension tightening through her neck and shoulders.

Susan Anderson, another veteran with the agency spoke up. Maggie and I talked about that once. She said her cigarette lighter in the car doesn’t work and prevents her from charging her cell phone battery with it. If her car broke down on one of those back roads she would be stranded if the cell phone battery lost its charge. For that reason, she charges the battery every night at home.

Has anyone been over there to see about her?

They all glanced around their little circle at each other.

Karalee answered. I don’t think so. Christy was already at work. She called Maggie’s daughter, Darlene, but Darlene brushed it off by saying Maggie might simply have forgotten to call or might have had an early appointment and just didn’t take the time to call. Christy called Maggie’s son Nathaniel, but kept getting a busy signal.

In a deep study, Brianna shook her head. She glanced back at Maggie’s glassed-in office. She recalled again how upset Maggie was yesterday and how rushed she was to get home.

I’m going to Maggie’s place and check on her, she declared, a sense of panic taking over.

CHAPTER TWO

Heading west out of town, Brianna later turned off on a county road that would take her to a dirt road leading to Maggie’s house. The county barely had funds to keep up the main roads, much less pave all the little country roads that webbed in and out of rural areas. Except for major highways and heavily used county roads, the rest were unpaved.

Having no idea what she might find out at Maggie’s place, Brianna’s apprehension grew. The location was a remote area several miles from town on the river with dense woods surrounding it over numerous acres, bought by Maggie and her husband soon after they married. Brianna recalled Maggie reminiscing about how old J.J. Marlowe convinced her late husband that it was an investment they couldn’t afford to let pass. They had put every penny they had in the land, nearly starving at times to make the payments, and were never sorry for a single minute that they’d listened to J.J.

Uneasy about going out to Maggie’s alone, she debated whether or not to call David who was an investigator for the Crime Division of the Sheriff’s Department. After the argument she and Preston had last night, she knew it wasn’t a good idea.

Nevertheless, Brianna was terrified of what she might find out at Maggie’s place and wasn’t anxious to go stumbling onto a crime scene. Her imagination ran rampant and every one of her nerves tensed at her frightening thoughts. She felt she had no choice but to call David even if Preston did get angry. David’s number was programmed for quick dialing into her phone, so she pushed the number three button and listened through four rings before he answered.

David, this is Brianna.

Good morning, I hope everything went well last night with Marlowe.

Let’s not get on that subject. Preston doesn’t like you and because of that he wants me to dislike you, too. Case closed.

Okay, I’ll start again. How are you? he asked with pale humor.

Of a sudden, Brianna nearly blurted out the exciting news of her pregnancy, and then changed her mind. If Preston discovered she did such a thing before he even knew he would never forgive her.

I’ve just had some unsettling news about Maggie Lowell. I’m told she has disappeared.

Disappeared? Maybe you better explain that.

Her daughter-in-law checks on her every night and morning and hasn’t been able to get in touch with her. The home phone stays busy and the cell phone is out of service. She didn’t come to work and I’m worried that something is wrong. I’m on my way out there now. Can you meet me there? You know where it is, don’t you, out by the river?

I know where it is, but wait down by the road at the end of the driveway. I don’t want you walking into something you shouldn’t.

I planned to, Brianna replied.

Now, are you going to tell me how things went with Marlowe last night?

He wasn’t happy. He wants me to choose between you and him.

The bastard just doesn’t know when he’s well off.

David, I know you don’t like Preston, but if you made the effort to know him better, you’d discover he’s really a nice person. Brianna pushed the off button and ended the call.

***

A long dirt driveway led from the recently graded and leveled dirt road, courtesy of the county, back into Maggie’s property. The double wide mobile home sat facing away from the river some four or five hundred feet from where a tall embankment ran along the river’s edge. During the ten and hundred year floods, not even the shored up banks of dirt could protect property owners from rising water. Now, however, the drought had left the river low with white sandbanks along the riverbed.

Brianna pulled off on the edge of the road where David told her to wait. She sat there staring down the lane with its tire-worn ruts leading to Maggie’s house. Everything seemed quiet and still. A creepy sense of dread clung to Brianna lending to her imagination of all the horrors that could have happened to Maggie way out here in the woods. Just sitting alone in her car gave her chills enough that she locked her car doors. She didn’t want to believe anything had happened to her dear old friend, but the fact was that Maggie had not shown up for work and no one had heard from or seen her—all unusual characteristics for a woman who religiously lived by established routine.

The ruts in the lane to the house were deeply cut and Maggie compensated by raking pine straw and oak leaves into the ruts from the wooded areas on both sides of the driveway. If a car had driven there recently, the pine straw and leaves hid any tire impressions. Maggie worked endlessly in her spare time keeping her place manicured and well kept. With so many trees on the property raking leaves and pine straw was a constant chore.

Brianna came out to see her on one of her off-days from work and found her raking. Why don’t you get someone to do that for you, Maggie? she asked, thinking it too much for a woman Maggie’s age.

It’s a never ending job, Brianna, Maggie said, but if it wasn’t for my yard, I’d end up sitting in my recliner all the time and getting fat. My yard keeps my muscles toned and gives me physical strength. Not only that, I love getting out raking and working in my yard and the fresh air. As long as I can do it myself, I will.

Aren’t you afraid out here all alone? Brianna asked.

I’ve lived here so many years, it seems about as safe as anyplace else. Anyway, I’ve had some good years out here on this land with my husband before he died and my family. Its home, and always will be, Maggie replied thoughtfully.

Brianna snapped out of her reverie when she heard a car and saw David drive past her. She cranked her car and followed.

CHAPTER THREE

Brianna pulled her car in behind David where the lane ended in a turnaround beyond the far left end of Maggie’s house. It was slightly wide enough to drive past a parked car. In front of the house and driveway, halfway to the main road, was a huge, beautifully landscaped area Maggie had planted over many years and tended with love. A doublewide mobile home, stretching the length of at least seventy feet, hosted a screened-in porch across the front. Old, but well kept, the home had lasted through Maggie and her husband’s marriage, the birth of three children, and finally, her husband’s death. Comprising several dozens of acres along the river and across the road, even though Maggie admitted she should move closer to town, her home and property held too many memories she wasn’t ready to give up.

My life and blood are in this property, she once told Brianna. It’s not just a home, its company. I plan to live out my life here.

Maggie’s truck, the vehicle her grandson had talked her into trading her luxury Oldsmobile for, because she was always hauling things, sat beneath a detached car-shelter awning on the end of the house where the turnaround was. Everything looked too quiet and calm, and the presence of the truck was immediate cause for Brianna’s nerve endings to tighten with apprehension. Maggie was usually wherever her truck was and could possibly be dead inside.

A sprinkler in the center of the landscaped area was spinning full-blast sending jet sprays of water flying in a wide circular sweep. From the puddles on the ground it looked like the water had been running for several hours.

David stepped from his truck and walked over to Brianna’s vehicle. As usual, he was dressed in a suit, which he hated to wear, but had little choice since his boss set the dress code for his employees. Standing at six-foot tall with blonde hair and blue eyes, he sported a handsome masculine physique. He ate like a horse, when he did eat, and never gained a pound. He now had an air of authority about him as his senses grew keen and alert to the possibility of a crime.

Everything looks too quiet. Stay in the car, Brianna. I’m going to look around the outside of the house.

I’m coming with you, she declared and opened the car door.

He took a deep breath. No, you’re not. Wait in the car.

She winced at his authoritative tone, and slammed her car door shut. The morning air was chilly, but she let down the window to receive the sweet pine scent on the cool breeze.

***

From the position on the driveway where Brianna parked she enjoyed Maggie’s lovely garden. A ten-foot square of open space made up the area in front of the screened porch door and a three-foot wide path went around the house. Flagstone paths ran through the garden where lush green plants and trimmed shrubs were neatly manicured. Pine needles from tall pines swaying in the breeze covered the ground thickly in all the walk areas and on the driveway. Azaleas, gardenias, daisies, lilies, roses and an assortment of plants were arranged in pleasing groups and patterns, much of it set off by edging grasses. This was Maggie’s haven, a place where she could wind down after a day’s work by doing what she enjoyed.

Brianna watched David, at first knocking on the screen door, then when there was no answer, scooting around the sprinkler spray and following the water hose to the cut-off valve. He turned it off and walked around the wet area, inspecting the ground for some reason. Then he came to a sudden stop in an area near the front screened porch where the sprinkler water hadn’t quite reached. He took out his white handkerchief and touched it to the damp pine needles. A bright red stain formed on it and he inspected it closely. Whatever he saw caused him to draw his gun before he eased on around the end of the house to investigate. He was out of view for