Chapter 16

Eckle felt anger well inside himself, as he viewed the body of Mrs. Denton. Whoever attacked her did so with viciousness he had never seen before. Moira Denton’s head was struck with powerful blows. The coroner estimated at least six, enough to kill her three times over.

Her nephew Roger stood beside him, weeping as he identified her body. “Who would do this to her?” He said, wiping tears off his cheeks. “She could be cold and distant but I can’t think of a thing that she could have done to cause someone to kill her, Sheriff.”

“I hate to ask but could you go throw her house with a deputy sometime tomorrow. Just to see if anything is missing. We’re trying to figure out if it was a robbery. Has she had any arguments with her neighbors or anyone that you can think of?”

“No sir. No one. I don’t mind going through the house. Though she didn’t ever let me go beyond the parlor. I won’t know what’s missing. Maybe you should check with her insurance agent. She had most of her possessions insured. I’ll get his info for you.”

“That would be appreciated. Here’s my card. Call me if you think of something. Doesn’t matter what time.” Eckle squeezed Roger’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about this. We’ll do our best to find the maniac who killed her.” He walked to the turn. With his hand on the door knob, he turned to Roger. “By the way, where were you today?”

Aghast, Roger said, “You can’t think I would do this?”

“Now I’m not saying that. But by law, we have to rule you out as a suspect.”

“I was at work all day. My boss can vouch for me.” Roger wrung his hands together. His face was full of five o’clock stubble. He rubbed his hand across it, causing a grating sound that echoed in the quietness of the morgue. Sheriff Eckle tried to read his expression, but it was closed to him—almost guarded.

“I’ll send a deputy by tomorrow to get his statement. Thanks for co-operating. One of us will call you tomorrow about the insurance information and also arrange a time for you to stop by and go through the house. In the meantime, it’s still a crime scene and you aren’t allowed inside it.”
Eckle left the morgue.

On his way to the Lambert house he stopped by the station to see if O’Reilly had developed the photos from the McHenry house break-in. To the sheriff’s delight he had, but to his disappointment the Denton film hadn’t been processed. Eckle took a copy of the McHenry photos and left instructions for O’Reilly to work on the Denton photos pronto. He put the copies in his briefcase and left for the Lambert house, after getting a briefing from Hunter regarding the current status of both cases.

As he was leaving the station, he got a call from Roman Ouellette. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to the jerk, but as a public servant it was his duty to take the call.

Ouellette wasted no time in getting to the point of his call. “Sheriff, I know who killed Old Lady Denton. That damn witch next-door. Lava Lambert. Or Lamplighter. That’s her witch name. I’ve seen it on some of her mail when I collect their garbage.”

“That’s not proof of anything. Until I have concrete evidence, I’m not arresting anyone.”

“I’ll get your proof. Tomorrow night is a full moon. She dances naked with Satan during full moons. You’ll have your proof then, Mr. Doubting Sheriff. You know, Brown would have hauled her in for questioning by now. Get your thumb out of your ass, Sheriff and do something.”

“Ouellette, don’t do something stupid. I’ll ignore that comment about my ass.”

Ouellette shouted into the phone, “You dumbass redneck sheriff-wanna-be.”

Before Eckle could reply Ouellette broke the connection. The sheriff muttered, “Dill weed!” into the silence of the phone. Just what he needed, a rogue idiot doing private investigation! He would stop by and have a word with him before going over to the Lambert residence.