Date: Sat, 26 Jul 2014 08:45:27 -0700 From: Jerlar <jetdesk2@yahoo.com> Subject: Murder in Porterville Chapter 11 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. All of us enjoy the stories here, so please, support Nifty. Like any other Business, it takes resources to keep it running. I appreciate you, and I know Nifty appreciates your support! Mark Stevens CHAPTER ELEVEN Britt was home alone in the McKenzie mansion working on the Porterville story. His fingers flew over the keys of his laptop as the words traveled freely from his mind. He was amazed at how easily the words came. His latest writing project hadn't been easy at the beginning. He knew what he wanted to write about, but for some reason the pieces wouldn't fall into place for him. His latest story had been slow to take hold. He paused for a moment, his fingers lingering on the keyboard. He was suddenly faced with a couple of different possibilities for the current chapter. Britt was in the middle of sorting them through his mind when his cell phone rang. He picked it up. Seeing Brian Poteet's name on the screen, he greeted the police officer by name. "How's it going, Brian?" "Where are you, Britt?" the officer asked. "Working at home," he answered. "Can you come to the station, Britt?" Britt eyed the computer screen in front of him. Maybe a break would help him to decide which way he wanted the chapter to go. "I can do that. Has something new turned up?" "I'd rather not discuss it over the telephone," Brian replied. Britt saved his work. "I'll be there in half an hour," he said. <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< Britt walked inside the police station. He spoke to the woman at the front desk and hurried back to Brian's office. He stepped inside and greeted the officer. "Hey, Brian." Brian Poteet looked up from his desk. He smiled and invited Britt to have a seat. "Has something turned up?" Britt asked falling into one of the chairs. Brian leaned back in his chair. "You might say that. The weapon used to murder Susan Abbott has turned up." "Which would be where?" Britt asked when Brian didn't elaborate. Brian shook his head. "In a janitorial closet at the Baptist church." Britt leaned forward in his chair. "Excuse me?" Brian repeated his words." "You have to be kidding me." "I wish I were, Britt." "Isn't that the church that Joe Thomas attends?" "I was told that Mr. Thomas also cleans the church on weekends," Brian said. "By whom?" "Marc Fletcher, pastor of the church." Britt became quiet as he forced his mind to take in what he had just heard. He hardly knew the man, but the time or two he had come in contact with the older gentleman, Thomas didn't strike him as one to commit a murder. "Britt?" Britt looked across the desk at Brian. "Sorry, Brian. I was trying to picture Joe Thomas committing a murder." "And?" Britt shook his head. "I'm not sure I can do that." "The knife was found in the janitorial closet," Brian reminded. "Oh, I'm sure it was," Britt agreed. "But?" "Have you questioned him?" "He says he didn't do it," Brian answered. Britt returned to his thoughts once more. Shaking his head he said, "I think he's telling the truth." "Remember the evidence? It was found in the man's work area." "Would it be possible for me to have a talk with Mr. Thomas, Brian?" "Of course. Would you like to see him now?" Britt stood to his feet. "I would." Brian headed for the door. "Follow me," he said. "Hold up, Brian." Brian turned around and faced Britt. "I suppose Miss Abbott's blood was on the knife?" "It was," Brian answered with a nod. "What about fingerprints?" "Wiped clean." "Of course. Brian, doesn't this strike you as a bit off? For God's sake, why would a murderer toss his weapon in the one place that would connect him to the crime?" Brian shrugged and said, "Stranger things have happened, Britt." Britt followed the officer down a hallway that stopped at a locked door. He watched as Brian unlocked the door. "Follow me, Britt." Brian led him to a second locked door. He pulled a key from his pocket and soon the door was sliding back. Britt suddenly found himself in a small room. The only items in the room were a table and four chairs. Joe Thomas was sitting in one of the chairs. Britt offered the older man a smile and took a seat across the table from him. Thomas looked at Brian and asked, "Do I need my lawyer present?" Britt answered the man. "Not necessary, Mr. Thomas. I'm actually here to help you if I can." Joe Thomas cast a sharp look in Britt's direction. "You're Daniel Williams' boy." "I am," Britt said with a nod. "Did you come looking for another story for one of your books?" "I came here because I don't think you killed Susan Abbott," Britt replied. "I didn't kill the girl. No matter what anyone says," he added giving Brian a look. Britt turned to Brian and said, "Can I speak with Mr. Thomas in private, Brian?" When Brian appeared to hesitate, Britt gave him a smile. "Please, Officer." Brian paused a few seconds longer and then walked to the door. "You have ten minutes, Britt." He closed the door behind him, and both men heard the lock click into place. "Level with me, Mr. Williams. What's the real reason you're here?" Britt looked the man squarely in the eye. "I just have a hard time believing anyone would be foolish enough to kill someone and then hide the weapon in his workplace." "I'll say it again. I did not kill Miss Abbott." "And again, I believe you." Britt placed his arms on the table in front of him. "I understand Susan was trying to convince you that she was your daughter." "She was," Thomas admitted. "Was she? Your daughter?" "Of course not." "Tell me your connection, if any, with the young lady." "Back in high school I dated her mother. Her name was Joyce Miller. I was crazy about Joyce. I would have married her." "Would have?" Britt eyed the man across the table. The man nodded. "I would have except Joyce moved away toward the end of our junior year in high school." "Why was that? Why the move?" Thomas shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know why. About a month before she left town, Joyce changed. She became like a different person overnight." "Did something happen between the two of you? Something that could attribute to the change you saw in her?" "That was a long time ago, Mr. Williams. After Joyce left, I tried to get on with my life." "Please call me `Britt'." "As I said, Britt, that was a long time ago." "You did go on with your life," Britt reminded. Joe gave a nod. "I married Lucy." "Were you happy with your new life, Joe?" Joe was silent for a moment. "I was," he finally spoke. "But you never did forget Joyce, did you?" "Not really. However, Lucy made me happy." "I'm glad, Joe. Everyone deserves to be happy." Britt became quiet for a moment. Then, "Joe, I'm sorry, but I have to ask you this: Could you have been Susan's father?" Joe Thomas' face turned a deep red. "If you're asking did I have sex with Joyce, the answer is no." "Not even once?" Joe suddenly sat up in his chair. "Young people were different when I was growing up, Mr. Williams." Britt disagreed with the older gentleman, but he didn't speak his thoughts. Sex among young single people had been a constant factor. It just wasn't discussed as freely back then as nowadays. "I'm sorry, Joe. It wasn't my intention to offend you. I'm just trying to find out anything that might help you." A smile suddenly crossed Joe's face. "I appreciate your help, Britt." "Do you have a lawyer, Joe?" The man nodded. "James Lynch. You know him?" "I know of him. Have you called him yet?" "I have. He's out of town." "Will he be back soon?" "Tomorrow sometime." The lock on the door clicked, and Brian stepped inside the room. "Sorry, Britt, but your time's up. Mr. Thomas has to be processed." Britt stood to his feet and reached out his hand to the man across the table. "Let me know when Mr. Lynch visits you, Joe. I'd like to be here. That is, if it's all right with you?" "I'll give you a call," Joe told him. "That is, if I'm allowed another telephone call," he added looking at Brian. "You may call anyone you choose, Mr. Thomas," Brian assured the man. Joe returned Britt's handshake. "Thanks for your help, Britt. I certainly appreciate anything you can do." "Hopefully you will be out of here soon as your lawyer returns to town. Hang in there, Joe." Britt followed Brian out the door, back along the hallway that led to the man's office. "I take it you're buying Joe's story," Brian said falling into the chair behind his desk. "At this point, yes, I am. The way I see it, just because a murder weapon shows up at the man's workplace doesn't prove he's the killer." "I hope you're right, Britt." "Brian, how well do you know James Lynch?" "He's been practicing law in Porterville for several years," Brian answered. "Will he be able to get Joe Thomas released?" "Depends on Judge Crawley. If he's okay with it, then just a matter of formality. And bail money," Brian added. "So it looks as if Joe will be in here at least tonight." "At least," Brian agreed. "Nothing will be settled until the man's lawyer is back in town." Britt stood in the doorway and gave Brian a smile. "I've got to run. Will we see you this evening?" Brian grinned. "If you're asking if Alice and I have plans, the answer is, yes, we do." "The two of you seem to be spending a lot of time together." "Is that a problem?" "Not for me," Britt assured him. "What about Devon?" "I think you know the answer to that. Brian, can I ask you something? It's kind of personal." "Certainly." "Are you beginning to have feelings for Alice?" "Are you asking if I love her?" Britt shrugged his shoulders. "Something like that, I guess." "Do you think her brother would have a problem if I did?" "You know how Devon feels, Brian. He loves his sister, and he doesn't want to see her get hurt." "Does he honestly think I would hurt Alice?" "I don't think he does. I know he has the greatest respect for you." "Then I guess I'll just have to show him I mean Alice no harm. I would never willingly hurt her, Britt." "I know that, Brian. So does Devon," he added. "I'll see you when you pick Alice up. Later, Bud." Britt left the police station and walked down the street to the library. There was only so much information about Porterville that could be pulled up online. On his last visit, Agnes Johnson had told him about a certain book on one of her shelves that contained quite a bit of information about the town. He wanted to check it out and take it home with him. Britt walked inside the building and waved to Agnes who was behind the counter. "Hi, Agnes," he greeted. The librarian gave him a big smile. "Hello, Britt. It's always such a pleasure seeing you." Britt leaned across the counter and gave the woman a kiss on the cheek. "The pleasure is always mine." "Hey, Britt. I've been wondering about you," Justin Reynolds called out. Britt saw the young man walking toward him. He greeted Justin with a smile. "Hello, Justin. How's the writing coming along?" Justin shrugged his shoulders. "A little on the slow side." Britt allowed his eyes to take in his surroundings as he said, "I find that hard to believe, Justin. Agnes has made a vast supply of knowledge available for anyone who is interested." "That's true," Justin agreed. "I guess I'm just not the seasoned writer you are," he added. "It does come easier with time," Britt admitted. "Still, there are times when I get stuck. When that happens, I have a solution." "That being?" "I push the project to the side and don't touch it, don't even think about it. After I clear my mind, the pieces will begin to fit together." "That sounds like good advice. Perhaps I'll give that a try." "Is there something I can do for you, Britt?" Agnes asked. Britt gave the librarian a nod. "There is, Agnes. Remember the book you suggested to me on my last visit? I'd like to check it out. That is, if it's available," he added. Agnes stepped around the counter and walked over to a section of books. She returned shortly with a large book. "I think you will find this very helpful," she assured him. Agnes checked the book out to Britt and passed it over to him with a smile. "I'm anxious to hear your thoughts after you read this." "I'll be sure and let you know, Agnes." Britt took the book and called out to Justin, "See you around, Justin. Good luck with your writing." "Appreciate it, Britt. Hey, let's do Fox Den sometime soon," the man added. "Sounds like a plan. See you around." Britt left the library and walked to his parked car. He crawled behind the wheel, but without starting the engine. Instead he opened up the book he had just checked out and glanced through several pages. The more he read, the more convinced he became that the book would give him the information he needed for his latest writing project. Britt looked up from the book in his hands. He opened the car door and crawled out from behind the wheel. He saw nothing out of place. Why did he suddenly feel as if something or someone was watching him? He felt a shiver course through his body. Even though it was fall and winter would soon be on the town, the day was bright and sunny. Yet, Britt felt a sudden chill wrap itself around his body. "How silly can I be?" he asked himself as he climbed into his car once again. If Britt could have seen the pair of sharp eyes that followed his car down the street, he would have known why he felt the way he had. Eyes full of hate and revenge watched him disappear out of sight.