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Civil Skirmishes
Chapter 9
The next morning, Frank knocked on Joe's door at 10:00, carrying coffee, bagels, and donuts with him. He yawned. It had been a long day yesterday, and he'd gotten little sleep, though that was really the last thing he'd complain about. He grinned at the thought.
"Morning," Joe greeted with a yawn. His eyes grew wide. "Food! Yes! I suddenly like you a whole lot more than I did two minutes ago!" He grabbed a cup of coffee and the entire bag of food from Frank's hand, waving him into the room.
Frank sat down and stretched as Joe tore into the food. "Where's Vanessa?" he asked. "Did she leave to see Callie yet? I didn't see her on the way in."
Joe nodded as he took a long sip of coffee. "Yeah. She actually left pretty early. She was excited when she found out that the Lodge here has some sort of agreement with the hotel down the street where guests can use the facilities in either place, and the second that she found out there was a pool, I think she texted Callie early and was out of here by 9:00! Why-didn't Callie tell you that?"
Frank shrugged. "Honestly, it was a busy morning. We got up at 6:00, went for a run, took showers, had breakfast, caught up again about the Inn and what we learned last night, and then she said something about going out with Vanessa today. I think we're meeting up tonight at 5:00 maybe? Did Biff text you that he was coming today with Chet, because Chet texted Callie."
Joe raised his eyebrows. "Yeah. He did. That's cool, except how in the hell we'll be able to get Biff and Chet uniforms for this ridiculous ball tomorrow is beyond me."
"Somehow, I think they'll be okay skipping out on it," Frank replied. "I wouldn't be concerned about their feelings on this one." He grinned.
"Maybe they'll switch places with us?" Joe asked hopefully.
"You're really testing Vanessa this vacation, aren't you?" Frank answered back, shaking his head. "She's having fun with it. Let her enjoy it. It's only a night."
Joe groaned. "One night with pictures as evidence that'll last the rest of my life," he responded, dejected. "I can't see Iola ever…" he began, and then he shut his mouth immediately. What was he thinking?! Lately, she'd been on his mind all the time and he didn't understand why, though he found it disconcerting. Mindlessly, he reached for the necklace that he always wore that had attached to it the mangled keys Iola had clutched in her hands the day that she died. They hadn't been mangled, then.
Frank looked at him questioningly, but, before he could say anything, Joe put down his hand, bit into a second donut, and quickly changed the topic. "I can't believe that you and Callie get up so early and go for runs. What'd you have for breakfast? A protein shake?"
Frank blushed, letting Joe off the hook with the Iola comment for the moment.
"I knew it! Frank, you used to be so normal and eat like a regular person. I know you must have carbs and sugar at college," Joe went on, chuckling a bit.
"You and Vanessa never run?" Frank challenged him. "And excuse me if I happen to like eating healthy."
"Runs? With Vanessa?!" Joe asked, laughing. "Coffee runs, maybe. Possibly we walk by running water. Once, we even listened to Run DMC. Anyway," he continued, eyes twinkling, "you're clearly just jealous that my girl looks gorgeous and eats like a normal person and your girl eats alfalfa sprouts, organic edamame, whole grain, fat free, sugar free…"
"Joe!" Frank exclaimed, exasperated. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response. Only you could make trying to live healthy and exercise a negative thing! Anyway, Callie told me that you guys went running together the other day."
"Yeah, well," Joe replied, finishing his second donut and going for a bagel, "I mean, there's a killer on the loose and all. Callie's a pain in the ass, but I don't hate her enough to want her to die."
"That's not remotely funny," Frank replied angrily, and Joe held up a hand indicating for him to calm down.
"I was kidding," Joe replied. "Chill. Yeah, we went out the other day and it didn't totally suck."
Frank's face was still red. "You know, she told me that she enjoyed her time with you. She told me… never mind. You obviously didn't see it the same way." He stood up, and Joe was shocked to see the look in his eyes. He truly appeared hurt.
"Hey," Joe replied gently, standing as well, placing a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm trying, okay? She's right. We had a good talk. She was fun, actually. You can't expect us to be best friends right away, Frank, but I'm trying and I think she is, too. A day at a time. There's a lot of water under that bridge, but we're off to a good start."
Finally, Frank took a deep breath, and Joe could see that he'd avoided that blow-up for the moment. "Okay," Frank muttered at last.
"So what happened last night with you? Did you and Callie go to the Inn?" Joe asked, happy for the change in topic.
"We did," Frank answered, "and it's pretty interesting, actually." He spent the next fifteen minutes filling Joe in on the events of last night. Joe listened attentively, but couldn't help the smirk that he felt come to his face.
"What?" Frank asked as he finished, although he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Nothing," Joe replied, taking another sip of his coffee. "I was just picturing how Chet and Biff will even fit in the bed together while you and Callie are staying at the Inn." He laughed.
"THAT's what you got out of what I told you?" Frank queried, sighing.
"I mean, yeah. I almost can't wait for you to tell them!" he joked. "But otherwise, that's a pretty interesting story. I mean, seems to me like someone is setting up Charlie and Hank to get them to sell. Pretty straightforward case I'd think."
"Yeah," Frank replied, thoughtful. "I agree. The WHY is pretty clear, but the WHO isn't. And now it's getting pretty dangerous. It's not just ghost story lore anymore. Now, people are threatening lawsuits and are getting hurt." Frank pointed at his still very visible bruise on his forehead and cheek, "and who knows? Maybe there was some foul play with the woman who died there. If that's the case, we have a murder investigation and even if it's not, we have criminal activity going on. I'd like to look into it, if you're willing to help."
Joe noticed that Frank was serious, and became more serious, himself. "Sure, Frank. I'll help look into it. Now, you're going to have to help ME, because last night's interview was interesting, to say the least." He went on to fill Frank in about the interview with Nellie and Archie Pabst.
"You're not kidding that it's interesting," Frank answered. "So everything went normally except that Archie was chewing the same brand of gum found at the store, and he's left handed. Plus, nothing was taken. Hmmm. It's all circumstantial, but intriguing, for sure. Why would Archie attack his wife, though? What's the possible motive? He'd also have to have a connection to the other two cases, and is there any evidence of that? Didn't Chief Cruz say they'd been happily married for a long time?"
"Yup," Joe agreed. "And honestly- she didn't seem afraid of him. I don't know. I told you- that night when I looked in the window, I saw something that I can't remember, and this is kind of the same thing. Something just doesn't feel right with this case."
"So what do you want to do now?" Frank asked.
"Let's go to the scene of the first murder, do a little investigating, and then see where it goes. We could then head over to the second murder scene if there's time. I assume that you and Callie will deal with the Inn a little more tonight, but we could head there, too. I mean… Van and I could switch with you. You guys could camp at Devil's Den and we could stay at the Inn."
Frank laughed. "Nice try."
"What do you mean?" Joe asked, eyes wide.
"Cut the innocent act. I will be happy to sleep in a nice, comfy bed tonight while you sleep in the dirt, heat, and humidity in one of the most haunted places in the country. Besides, Vanessa wants to do it," Frank reminded him. "Good luck changing plans."
Joe sighed. "It was worth a try." He reached for another bagel.
"How do you eat so much?" Frank asked in amazement.
"I'm a growing boy. I need sustenance. Not alfalfa," he replied with a laugh, and headed out the door with Frank behind him, rolling his eyes.
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Close to an hour later, after having reviewed some of the facts from the case, the brothers arrived at the antique shop on the outskirts of town. Joe parked the car and got out with Frank following behind him. Again, Chief Cruz had done them a favor and called ahead so that the shop owner, Peter Stobak, would be awaiting them.
As soon as they entered, they were greeted by an older gentleman in his late sixties. Heavyset and balding, he was sitting behind the counter and, unlike the other shop owners with whom they had come in contact on the trip, he was not dressed in period gear.
"Hardy brothers?" he asked, getting up to shake their hands.
When they nodded, he ushered them to a back room, indicating for a young man to take his place at the register. "Apologies," he began. "It's our busiest time of the year, and we need salespeople on the floor. How can I help you?"
Frank began. "We know that Chief Cruz called you, and we're assisting him on his investigation into the murder that occurred at your store not long ago. We were wondering if you could give us some information about that day."
Stobak's mouth formed into a frown. "I gave the police my statement," he said, defensively. "What more do you need to know?"
Joe sighed. His brother was an excellent investigator, could analyze facts from every conceivable angle, could form questions that methodically sought out answers. But where Frank was very strong with methodology, he was very strong with people. Joe had a feeling that those skills would be needed now.
Giving Stobak his most disarming smile, he cut Frank's line of questioning off. "Mr. Stobak, we heard what happened and I can only imagine how traumatizing it must have been for you. Sometimes, when we talk to the police, we get distracted or intimidated; that's completely understandable. We'd just like to hear what you might remember, no matter how insignificant. You're a victim here; we understand that."
Almost at once, Stobak seemed to relax a bit. Frank shot his brother a quick glance letting him know that he was with him and would shut up. Joe suppressed a smile. Even now, as young adults, it was fun to win out over Frank, even when the end goal was the same.
After a few minutes of setting Stobak at ease and reviewing the facts of the case of which they were already aware, Joe concluded with, "and so, sir, perhaps you can tell us a little more about the woman who worked here. Would anyone have had any personal grudges against her?"
"Maggie? Nah," he replied, dismissively. "She was a lovely girl; a genuinely nice person. She was so excited to finally get a job dealing with the appraisal of antiques. I mean, we're not the big city here, by any stretch, but we're an old business, make a decent profit, and still are able to educate people about history. We love it. Never had anything like this ever happen here. It's very upsetting," he finished.
"Of course," Frank chimed. "Can you go over one more time what happened?"
Stobak sat back and sighed deeply. "It was later in the day. There weren't too many customers. Tuesdays aren't a terribly busy night of the week. I told Maggie that I was going to run out and pick up a quick dinner for the both of us, which I did sometimes. When I came back… that's when I saw her. Stabbed, in a pool of blood on the floor."
"There were no signs of anything?" Frank asked. "No forced entry?"
"Was there a gum packet left behind?" Joe asked, innocuously.
"That's a first," Stobak replied, surprised. "The cops would know. Not that I know of. Why?"
"Just wondering," Joe answered lightly. "And no one had threatened her, as far as you know? And no one has threatened you?"
"No," Stobak answered, sadly. "Not at all."
"Mr. Stobak, was there anything unusual about that day? Or, perhaps, do you have a list of regular customers that we might be able to speak with?" Frank went on.
Stobak raised his brows in question. "I don't know. I don't think so. Why? You think she knew the person?"
"We have no idea," Joe replied, honestly. "But it helps to have all bases covered. It IS unusual that nothing was taken. It looks like a planned murder, not a robbery that ended in murder. So, it would stand to reason that something personal might have come into play. Do me a favor. If you think of anything- anything at all- in the next few days, give me a call." Joe reached for a pen and paper on a nearby table and wrote down his cell phone number. "That's my personal number. You won't have to deal with the police."
Stobak stared at the paper before raising his eyes to Joe. "Yes, I will. Thank you."
Joe just smiled and walked out, Frank following behind. When they reached the car, Frank turned to him. "So? Thoughts?"
"I've got nothing," Joe answered. "Except I think he knows something. Did you see the way he acted to me when I reminded him that he wouldn't have to work with the police? Or the way he hesitated and stared at my number? We'll hear from him. I just hope it's before Van has us scheduled to leave. Because if we're stuck here and the girls and Biff and Chet have to go with them to Hershey Park… you may just be investigating another murder alone-mine." He gave Frank a small grin. "Unless you're dead, too." He got into the car.
Frank sighed as he closed the passenger door behind him. This was quite possibly the least relaxing vacation they could have taken.
