Date: Mon, 7 Jul 2014 15:32:20 -0700
From: Jerlar <jetdesk2@yahoo.com>
Subject: Murder in Porterville 10

This story is purely a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to person's
living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental.

  The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or
publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it
has been posted, without the consent of the author.


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Mark Stevens



CHAPTER TEN



	Britt pulled into the driveway and shut the car engine off. He
looked at Alice and said, "I imagine it feels a bit odd for you. After all,
this is the house where you grew up."
	Alice's eyes held a trace of sadness as she looked through the
car's windshield.  Then looking across the car seat at Britt, she said, "It
does make me sad. I truly believe my mother was happy living here. Even
with everything that had taken place in her life."
	Britt had to agree with her. "I think you're right, Alice. Those
two times I visited with her, she seemed quite content here."
	"I would never admit it to Devon, but as glamorous as the mansion
is, I'm not sure it will ever feel like home to me."
	"I can understand that," Britt said. "Mom's house will always be
home to me."
	Brian pulled into the driveway and parked his Porterville Police
car behind Britt's vehicle. He got out of the car and joined them. He
smiled and said, "Good morning, you two." He glanced at the house and
added, "No one appears to be home."
	Britt climbed out of his car. "I take it you were able to obtain a
search warrant, Brian?"
	Brian Poteet pulled a paper from his pocket. "Signed, sealed and
delivered," he answered. "I guess signed and delivered," he corrected with
a grin.
	The three of them walked up the porch steps. Brian rang the bell,
and they waited. When they were greeted by silence, Brian told Alice to use
her key.
	Alice reached into her purse and brought it out. She handed it to
Brian and stepped aside.
	Brian inserted the key and gave it a twist. The lock clicked, and
he pushed the door open.
	"Police," Brian called out.
	Silence.
	"Police," Brian repeated. "I've got a warrant. We're coming in."
	"I'd say the house is empty, Brian," Britt spoke up.
	"Let me check things out first," the officer told them.
	Britt and Alice remained behind on the porch while Brian made a
tour of the house. He was back in a short time.
	"Mr. Abbott's not here," he said.
	"What do you want us to do?" Britt asked.
	"Just look around. Alice, why don't you take one of the bedrooms?
I'll take the other one."
	Britt headed for the kitchen. "I'll check out both the kitchen and
the dining room."
	As Britt entered the small dining room, he noticed some papers on
the table. He walked over and began sorting through them.  At the bottom of
the stack was a manila file folder. He quickly opened it and studied the
contents.
	"Brian, you might want to check this out," he called.
	Brian joined him immediately. "Find something interesting?"
	"I have a feeling I know why Mr. Abbott's no longer employed by
Mutual Life. Look at this." He handed some papers to the man.
	Brian skimmed over the print and whistled. "I guess we know why his
sister was trying to convince Joe Thomas she was his daughter."
	"I'm going to give Mutual a call this morning, but I have a feeling
they let Abbott go because of this. My guess is that he fed the information
to his sister."
	Britt found some papers clipped together. "Look at this birth
certificate." He handed it to Brian.
	"This says that Susan's mother was Joyce Miller," Brian read. "Does
the name mean anything to you?"
	Britt shook his head. "I don't have a clue who the woman is."
	"I'll do some checking," Brian said. "Evidently she must have some
connection with Joe Thomas."
	"What the hell is going on here?"
	Both men turned and discovered Paul Abbott standing in the doorway
that separated the living and dining room.
	"Good morning, Mr. Abbott," Brian greeted. He pulled a paper from
his pocket and said, "I have a search warrant, sir."
	"That piece of paper doesn't give you the right to go through my
sister's things. She didn't die here."
	"I'm sorry, sir, but it does give me the right." He emptied the
table top of all the papers and said, "Anything that might help us find
your sister's killer can and will be taken for evidence."
	Paul Abbott pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and
remained silent.
	Alice came out of the bedroom and joined them.
	Abbott turned to her and asked, "Did you allow these two inside my
sister's home?"
	"I did."
	"You had no right. I'm going to talk to my lawyer," Abbott
threatened.
	"That might be a good idea, sir," Brian assured the man. Giving him
a smile Brian added, "I think we're through here for the time
being. However, I want to warn you: See that nothing is removed from this
house, Mr. Abbott."
	"Of course, Officer," Abbott said, his voice full of sarcasm.
	Once outside Britt said, "I suppose you couldn't get the man
removed from the house, could you? After all, there's absolutely nothing to
keep him from destroying any evidence we might have overlooked."
	Brian shook his head. "No judge would order him out under the
circumstances. It would be pointed out to us that the crime didn't take
place in the victim's home." Brian looked at the papers in his hand and
added, "Besides I think we have something already to help us out. I'm going
back to the office and have a look at these papers." He walked to his car.
	Alice asked Britt to drop her off at the newspaper office. "Sam
will be wondering what has happened to me," she said.
	Brian opened the car door and said, "I'm really surprised that
brother of yours hasn't tried to talk you into quitting the Beacon."
	"Oh, he's mentioned it several times," Britt assured him.
	"He has," Alice admitted. "He also realizes that I enjoy working
there."
	Before Britt climbed behind the wheel of his car, he said, "Brian,
I'm going to drop Alice off at Sam's, and then if it's all right with you,
I'm going to stop by the police station and give Mutual Insurance a call."
	"Great. I'll see you in a bit."
	On the way to the newspaper office, Alice asked, "Britt, I'd like
to ask you something."
	"I'm listening."
	"Do you think my working for Sam embarrasses Devon?"
	Her question took Britt by surprise. "Why would you ask something
like that, Alice?"
	"The McKenzie family has always taken their position in the
community very seriously," she reminded.
	"Has Devon ever hinted to you in any way that he disapproved of you
working at the Beacon?"
	"Of course he hasn't. You know how Devon is."
	Britt gave her a nod and said, "Exactly. Your brother will always
want you to do what makes you happy. I thought you knew that by now,
Alice."
	"I know the job's not much," Alice continued. "When I was helping
support Mother, I was thankful to have it. Now, with her gone, I feel
guilty taking money from Sam."
	"If it bothers you, I guess you could tell Sam you'd work without
pay," he teased.
	Alice grinned. "Maybe not that guilty."
	"I didn't think so," Britt said laughing.
	He dropped her off at the newspaper office and drove to the police
station. When he got out of his car, he was surprised to see Justin
Reynolds walking toward him.
	"Good morning, Britt," the young author greeted.
	"Justin." Britt cast the man a quick nod. "This seems to be a
favorite part of town for you," he remarked.
	"Just out for a short walk," Justin answered. "I'm on my way to the
library. Porterville has a damned good one," he praised.
	Britt agreed with the man. "Agnes has been the town librarian as
long as I can remember."
	"She's been very helpful to me."
	"I'm glad. Well, I've got to run. I'll catch you later, Justin."
	Justin turned to walk away and then stopped. "Oh, Britt, any new
developments with the Abbott situation.
	"None that I know of," Britt answered.
	"I certainly hope you find out who is responsible. Have a good day,
Britt."
	"You do the same, Justin."
	Britt walked up the steps and entered Porterville Police
Station. The woman at the front desk greeted him by name.
	"Good morning, Britt. Brian's expecting you."
	Britt thanked her and made his way to Brian's office. He stopped in
the doorway when he saw that the officer was on the telephone. Brian
motioned for Britt to have a seat.
	Brian ended his call and said, "I have an errand to run, Britt." He
stood to is feet. "If you like, you can have a seat at my desk to make any
calls you need to." He pointed to a stack of paperwork on his desk. "This
is what we picked up from Susan Abbott's home. Feel free to go through any
of it you like."
	Stopping in the doorway, Brian added, "I should be back in about an
hour. Make yourself at home. If you need anything, just ask Sandra. Her
desk is right outside my office."
	Britt opened the file that contained information concerning Mutual
Life Insurance. He found the company's telephone number and made his
call. He spent the next half hour talking to the head of the company's
Claims Department in Oklahoma City. At first Britt thought he might not get
the information he was seeking. After assuring the person on the other end
of the line that he was working with the Porterville Police Department, he
was patched through to a man who had the answers he was looking for.
	With his call completed, Britt returned to the folder in front of
him. The information he had received was no surprise to him at all. Paul
Abbott had worked a few years for Mutual Life in the city. Joe Thomas, the
school custodian, had a two hundred thousand dollar life insurance policy
on his wife. The company paid the man when Barbara Thomas died a year
ago. Evidentially Paul Abbott had passed that information along to his
sister. When Mutual Life discovered that he had shared personal information
about one of its policy holders, the company had terminated his employment.
	Britt was adding some notes to the file when Brian returned from
his errand. He greeted the officer with a smile.
	"Mutual Life has confirmed what we already knew about Paul
Abbott. They fired his ass when they discovered he gave out information
concerning one of their policy holders. Barbara Thomas, in fact."
	"You don't say."
	Britt stood up and told Brian he could have his chair back. "I have
an errand to run myself," he said heading for the door.
	Brian sat behind his desk and pulled the Abbott folder to him. "You
might want to hang around for this," he told Britt as he reached for the
telephone.
	Britt took a seat in front of the desk and waited.
	Brian made his call, and in a matter of seconds said, "Hello again,
Mr. Abbott. I have a favor to ask of you, sir. Would you mind coming down
to see me sometime today?"
	Brian listened for a moment and then said, "Yes, it concerns your
sister's case, and no, you don't need to have your attorney come with
you. Unless it would make you feel more comfortable," he added. "It's up to
you, sir."
	Another pause, longer this time. Then, "All right, I'll see you
down here in one hour. Good bye, Mr. Abbott."
	At Britt's puzzled look, Brian said, "I'm going to use some scare
tactics on the asshole. You're welcome to be here when I talk to him,
Britt."
	Britt looked at his watch and stood to his feet. "I think I'd like
that. I should have just enough time to do my business and be back here for
your little talk."
	Britt knew his mother would be at the Porterville Senior Center
volunteering her quilting skill. She enjoyed working with the other ladies
three or four days a week. She was there now. He drove to the center and
hurried inside the building.
	Catherine was one of five ladies sitting around a good-sized
quilting frame. When she saw her son walking through the door, her face
broke out into a big smile. Then just as quickly, it was replaced with a
worried look.
	"Is something wrong?" she asked Britt when he was close enough to
hear her.
	"Everything's fine, Mom," he hastened to assure her.
	"Then why the visit? If everything is okay."
	When Britt reached her side, he leaned down and kissed her on the
cheek. Smiling he asked, "Can't I drop in on my mother?"
	"You can. However, it's not like you to do so."
	"I'm such an awful son, aren't I?" Britt gave Catherine's quilting
buddies a grin.
	"Don't start your nonsense, Britt Williams," his mother warned. "I
can assure you, it won't go well if you do."
	"You know I love you, Mom." He kissed Catherine's other cheek.
	"I have work to do. So state your business so I can get on with
it."
	"All right, Mom, I'll `state my business', as you so adamantly put
it. Did you ever know a Joyce Miller?"
	"Oh my lord, I haven't heard that name in years," Catherine
declared.
	"You know who she is?"
	His mother nodded. "She was younger than me in school." Catherine's
eyes took on a faraway look. "If I remember correctly, she and Joe Thomas
dated in high school." Catherine dug further back into her memory. "I think
Joyce moved away a year or so before she graduated."
	"Do you remember how old the girl was?" Britt asked.
	Catherine shook her head. "No, I really don't. I was married to
your father by then."
	"Could she have been around sixteen or seventeen?"
	"I really can't say, Britt. That was a long time ago."
	Britt gave his mother a pat on the shoulder. "Thanks, Mom. You've
been a great help."
	A surprised look appeared on her face. "I have?"
	"You have, Mom," he called over his shoulder. "I'll see you ladies
another time."
	Britt hurried out to his car and returned to the police station. He
wanted time alone with Brian before Paul Abbott arrived.  He was anxious to
share the information he had learned from his mother.
	Britt hurried inside the building. Stopping in the doorway of
Brian's office, he called out Brian's name.
	"Come on in," Brian invited from behind his desk. He looked at his
wrist watch and said, "You're just in time. Mr. Abbott should be here
shortly."
	Britt hurried inside and fell into a chair. "I have some new
information for you, Brian. Do me a favor and pull Susan's birth
certificate out of the file."
	Brian searched through the folder on his desk. When he found the
document, he held it in his hand. "Now what?"
	"Who was Susan Abbott's mother?"
	Studying the paper in his hand, the officer read, "According to
this her name was Joyce Miller. Providing the information is correct," he
added.
	"I have a feeling it's a true statement," Britt assured him.
	"Okay, tell me what you know, Britt."
	"Anytime I want an accurate source I always turn to my mother. She
has yet to let me down. According to Mom, Joyce Miller went to high school
in Porterville. She and Joe Thomas dated."
	"You've got to be kidding." Brian leaned back in his chair. "From
the look on your face, something tells me there's more to the story."
	"Maybe yes, maybe no," Britt said. "According to Mom, Joyce moved
away either her junior or senior year. She couldn't remember which."
	Brian looked at the birth certificate once more. "Do you think
Susan was telling the truth? I mean about Joe Thomas being her father."
	Britt shrugged his shoulders and said, "At this point it would be
hard to say. However, there's one way to find out for certain."
	"By running a test on Susan's DNA and comparing it with that of
Mr. Thomas," Brian declared.
	"Isn't Susan's birth place listed as Oklahoma City?"
	Brian searched the document in his hand once more, and with a nod
of his head said, "That's correct. We should be able to contact the
Department of Vital Records in the city...they could at least verify the
name of Susan's mother."
	"What about siblings?" Britt asked. "Aren't they usually listed on
birth certificates?"
	Brian studied the document once more. "It says none in the sibling
box here. However, that doesn't mean anything at all. Paul Abbott could be
younger than his sister."
	The telephone on Brian's desk rang, and he answered it. "Send him
in," he said. Looking at Britt he added, "Our visitor has arrived."
	Paul Abbott suddenly appeared in the doorway of Brian's office. The
officer asked the man to come in and have a seat.
	"You're sure I won't need a lawyer?" the man asked falling into the
chair beside Britt.
	"Not because of anything I'm going to say," Brian assured
him. Then, "At least not yet."
	Abbott turned to Britt and said, "You seem to put a lot of time in
at this place. Is this where you go to research information for your
books?"
	Britt was surprised. "You know that I'm a writer, Mr. Abbott?"
	"Hell, you can't go anywhere in this town without hearing about the
golden boy turned writer."
	"I'll take that as a compliment," Britt said giving the man a
smile.
	"Yeah, well I didn't mean it as one."
	Brian cleared his throat. "I want to thank you for coming down,
Mr. Abbott. This won't take long."
	Paul Abbott shrugged his shoulders and said, "It's not as if I have
plans or anything."
	"Perhaps not now," Brian agreed. "What about earlier?"
	Abbott appeared to be digesting Brian's words. Locking eyes with
the officer, he asked, "Earlier?"
	"I'm thinking you and your sister came up with a plan you thought
would allow the two of you to come into some money. Would I be wrong in
assuming that?"
	The man leaned back in his chair. "Damned wrong, Officer."
	"Here's what I think happened. While working for Mutual Life
Insurance you discovered a claim had been paid to a one Joe Thomas. You
passed the information along to your sister, and hence, the plan to try and
convince Mr. Thomas he was your sister's father."
	Abbot became very angry and jumped to his feet. "This is
ridiculous!"
	Brian's voice became softer, and he asked the man to return to his
seat. "You're right, Mr. Abbott. My concern at the moment is to find your
sister's killer. Evidently the plan you and your sister had concocted went
down without actually having taken place. Therefore, it's up to your
previous employer to handle your situation however it chooses."
	Paul Abbott returned to his seat once more, and Brian continued
speaking.
	"Was your mother's maiden name Joyce Miller?"
	"It was."
	"Were you aware that she lived in Porterville at one time and
attended high school here?"
	"I was. Just where is this going?" Abbott demanded.
	"I'm hoping you can tell me," Brian answered the man.
	"Were you also aware your mother had dated Joe Thomas while
attending high school here?"
	Paul Abbott's cheek suddenly tightened up. "How the hell would I
know that? I wasn't around when she was in school."
	"Of course not," Brian agreed. "Where is your mother now? It occurs
to me she could provide answers to some of our questions."
	"She's buried in a cemetery in Missouri." The man's voice broke as
he spoke the words.
	"I'm sorry, Mr. Abbott. Can you tell me what happened?"
	"It's simple. She got sick and died."
	Brian exchanged a look with Britt. Then glancing at Susan Abbott's
brother once more, he said, "I think you've answered enough questions,
Mr. Abbott. I am truly sorry for your loss, sir."
	Paul Abbott stood to his feet. "Am I free to go?"
	"Of course, sir."
	After the brother of Susan Abbott had disappeared from sight, Brian
turned to Britt and asked, "What do you think?"
	Britt shook his head. "I'm pretty certain the man had nothing to do
with his sister's death, Brian. Other than that one fact, I'm not sure
about anything."
	Brian looked at his watch. "The afternoon's almost gone. I think
I'm going to call Oklahoma City and see if I can find out if the
information on this birth certificate is correct. Then I'm going to call it
a day."
	Britt stood to his feet. "If you're through with me, I'm going to
head out as well. I dropped Alice off at the newspaper office this morning,
so she's going to need a ride home."
	Brian gave him a wave. "Go," he said. "You've done enough for
today. I appreciate you, Britt."
	"I'll catch you tomorrow," Britt said heading for the door. "Unless
I see you when you pick Alice up later this evening." He gave Brian a big
grin.
	"Get out of here. You're too damned smart for your own good."
	"I've been told that before. See ya!"
	As Britt walked to his car, he had lots of thoughts running through
his brain. He had been truthful with Brian when he had said he didn't think
Paul had anything to do with his sister's murder. However, something wasn't
right. This all seemed like a big puzzle to him, and several of the pieces
were missing.
	Climbing behind the wheel of his car, Britt was so preoccupied with
his thoughts that he failed to the see the sharp pair of eyes that were
focused on him. He drove to the newspaper office unaware that danger was
nearby.