Chapter 12
Joel answered the phone expecting Chelsea’s cheery voice, only to hear Sterling on the other end.
“She was threatened again tonight,” he greeted him. “She’s okay, but …”
His heart slammed against his chest. Jesus, what was going on here? “What happened? Where?”
“At the parking lot again, and, this time, it was a drive-by followed by a personal warning. He told her to not talk to the police and told her, if she doesn’t listen, he’ll come back and the next time won’t be anywhere near as nice.”
“Shit,” he whispered. “It’s gotta be Peacock’s murderer.”
Sterling sighed. “Yeah, I had hoped this would be over with, and it makes no sense that it isn’t. I mean, the police have the body, and we know who it is. We just don’t know the why, since he was already on death’s door. I just don’t understand why he was dumped off with that truck.”
Joel agreed with him. “I’ve been thinking about that, and it only makes sense if he wanted the body to be found,” Joel suggested. “That wasn’t an old logging road in the middle of nowhere. He could see the road was well traveled.”
“And why not just let the man live out his life if he was dying just fine on his own?”
“Maybe there was no medical insurance,” Joel offered. “Yet Chelsea heard he was a vet, so he should have had some good medical.”
“Shit. I didn’t know that. Yet, if he turns out to be a valid vet, he would have some insurance. But what if he died of natural causes—or whatever you want to call it—and they had no way to dispose of the body, at least none that didn’t make them look guilty?”
Joel groaned. “That sucks even more, whether he was a vet or not.”
“If the hospital knew who the man was, if he wasn’t some John Doe, then the hospital admin could contact family members, try to get the family to deal with it. And everyone would need a death certificate in order to get any kind of money from him, right?” Sterling asked.
“It depends,” Joel replied. “Did he legally sign over stuff while he was alive? If he did, then maybe whoever didn’t care enough and just wanted to get rid of him and go collect the money. I’ll call Richard right now.”
“But it’s going on 10:30 p.m.”
“I don’t give a shit,” Joel snapped. After getting a second reassurance that Chelsea was okay and had gone to bed, after working a twelve-hour day, he disconnected from Sterling and rang Richard’s number. As soon as he got Richard on the phone, Joel was hardly able to control his anger.
“I already heard,” Richard snapped. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, but we are on it. And he did die on his own,” Richard added.
Joel asked, “Then why is this guy on Chelsea’s tail if he didn’t kill Peacock?”
“That’s the part we don’t get either,” Richard shared.
“And was it Peacock’s truck?”
“It was his truck, but it was a lease.”
“So, the vehicle goes back to the leasing company, and whoever just dumped him will get charged with what?”
“Probably abuse of a corpse and I don’t know what all else.”
“Does it get him off the hook from having to pay for a funeral?”
After a moment of hesitation, Richard replied, “Under normal circumstances, the body is collected from the hospital or the morgue or the funeral home or the hospice facility. Then I presume the family is expected to pay for a funeral or cremation, if they can afford it.”
Joel admitted, “I’m just trying to figure out what this is all about.”
“You and me both.” Richard snorted.
“Plus a coworker of Chelsea’s said she thinks Peacock is a vet.”
Richard replied, “We didn’t have that info. I’ll have to follow up on that with the hospital records. Regardless, none of this makes a whole lot of sense.”
“So, did the actual autopsy say that he died of natural causes?”
“Yes, and he was seriously ill.”
“I just don’t get it,” Joel wondered out loud. “That same nurse thought his son was close by, and he came to visit often.”
“Well, there was a son but not nearby, and Peacock has been estranged from him for many years. They lost touch a long time ago, which is pretty sad.”
“Did Peacock have any money?”
“Ah, that’s a good question. We haven’t checked bank accounts yet.”
“Check if anything was withdrawn in, say,” he hesitated, “the last couple days before he died.”
“What are you thinking happened?”
“I think somebody came into town, knew he was dying, wondered if he was dying, or wanted to find out if he was even still alive. I think they found him in this condition and either decided to stay and get to know him or realized there might be some money. However, if the son or whoever could get him to sign things over or to just give things to them, the money could go to wherever his will directed.”
“If there even was a will. Yet, if Peacock hadn’t seen the son in a long time, maybe the son was not in Peacock’s will,” Richard added.
“Exactly, so what if the son—or whoever—just got all the paperwork signed, sealed, and then Peacock died?”
“And what? Just dumped him off the side of the road?”
“Well, someone parked him down that road. Maybe they planned to take the vehicle if they thought it was his. But if they found out it was leased, then no way.”
“You’re right,” Richard noted. “That’s pretty harsh.”
“More than harsh. We need viable confirmation that the old man did die on his own and that he wasn’t helped along, particularly when he was so close to death anyway—from what I hear from the hospital staff,” he explained.
“We also have to consider how the driver got home. Did he walk back to the main road and catch a ride or did he have a friend who drove there and picked him up?”
“Exactly. I’ll do a bit more digging. Talk to you later.” And, with that, he disconnected.
Timber joined Joel and asked, “Did I just hear what I thought I heard?”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Chelsea was threatened in the parking lot after work—again.”
“Good God.” Everybody crowded around to get the latest information, and they all input their own two cents’ worth.
Joel called Richard back a little bit later. “Hey, can I get access to the dead man’s apartment?”
After a moment of silence he asked, “Why? Nothing’s there. He moved out when he went into the hospital.”
“I just wondered if he left anything behind.”
Richard stated, “Leave this with us, Joel.”
“Do you have that many man-hours?” he asked sharply, and silence came on the other end. “I’ve got nothing but time, so I might as well give you a hand because Chelsea is still in danger.”
“I hear you,” he muttered. “Fine. I have an address where he used to live, but as far as I know from the hospital, they didn’t have a forwarding address, just that address.”
“Fine. I’ll talk to the landlord.”
“Good luck with that,” he muttered, with a laugh. “I already talked to him, and fair warning. … He wasn’t terribly friendly.”
“Did you go in person or just talk to him on the phone?”
“Just on the phone. Remember that point about not having any time or enough manpower?”
“I heard you the first time. I just need to see if we can come up with some reason why all this is happening.”
“I get it. Just make sure you let me know if you find anything. Just not tonight. It’s almost midnight.” With that, he disconnected.