Chapter 10. Paper and Peril
PAPER AND PERIL
WHITNEY
Though power was still out in the shopping center and restaurant, the rain had granted us a reprieve.
I was able to walk down the drive without getting any wetter, though more mud accumulated on my boots, making them heavier as I trudged past the scarecrows, whose smiles seemed insensitive at the moment.
My thighs and calves were getting a workout, and my heart pounded with the effort.
As I approached the barn, Deputy Swisher pulled down one end of the yellow cordon tape from the tree, while Detective Alonzo untied the other from the back fence of the Victory Garden pasture.
“Any luck?” I asked. “Did you find some evidence?”
“Sorry,” Alonzo said. “Can’t share any of that with you.”
I was disappointed, but I’d learn the details soon enough.
If they’d found fingerprints, and that person was already in the system, they’d make an easy arrest. The fact that they didn’t ask whether I’d touched the pitchfork told me they might not have been able to lift any prints from the tool.
It wouldn’t be surprising. The heavy rain could have washed them away.
“I understand. My husband is a homicide detective for the Metro P.D. I know investigators have to be careful about revealing any clues.”
Her eyes narrowed as she thought aloud. “You must be married to Detective Collin Flynn.”
“That’s him.”
“He and I worked a case together a few years back. The victim was found in Davidson County, but the suspect lived here in Williamson County. Your husband is a smart guy. Hardworking, too. Tell him I said hi.”
“Will do.”
I looked around, noting that footprints and tire tracks had probably been impossible to collect.
The heavy rain turned the tracks into puddles and washed away any identifying features.
If the killer had driven away down the gravel easement, the rain would have washed the tread marks away there, too.
The thought had me wondering, though. What’s at the other end of that easement?
I turned back to Detective Alonzo. “There were a lot of line workers in the area today. Maybe one of them saw something.”
“Thanks for the suggestion. If you think of anything else, let me know.” The detective handed me one of her business cards. “Take care, Mrs. Flynn.”
With that, the deputy and the detective returned to their vehicles and headed off.
I walked into the barn and climbed up to the hayloft to collect the romance novel I’d been reading when I’d fallen asleep earlier.
I carried the book back down the ladder and slid into my SUV.
The papers I’d collected earlier were missing from the passenger seat, taken into evidence.
I turned my head. The sawhorses in the back lay at slightly different angles than before, telling me the crime scene techs had searched my vehicle.
I wasn’t surprised, but I was a little insulted.
Do I look like a killer? I’m about to become a mommy, for goodness’ sake!
I started my car and drove out of the barn.
When I reached the county road, I noticed the lights were back on in the commercial buildings.
The deputy’s SUV and Detective Alonzo’s car were at the shopping center.
Through the window of the coffee shop, I could see them at the counter speaking with the barista.
They were probably hoping the shop’s exterior security camera recorded the killer’s license plate as he or she drove past, heading for the barn.
I headed home and parked in the garage. Rather than track mud all over the garage and house, I took off my work boots while still sitting in my SUV.
I walked to the door in my socks and left the boots atop a rubber mat next to the door.
I was in no mood to clean them now. Besides, I had a spare pair. I’d get to them later.
As I walked into the house, Sawdust ran up to welcome me home.
“Hey, boy!” I scooped him up and buried my face in his soft fur.
“I missed you, little guy.” I carried him to the couch and released him, spending a minute or two giving him a full-body scratch.
Ears. Cheeks. Chin. Base of his tail. He flopped down and rolled over so I could scratch his chest, too.
When I finished, I went over to where Galileo and Copernicus lounged on the rug, and gave them each a pat on the head.
I looked like a total mess and my coveralls were still damp, so I took a long, hot shower, wishing the water could wash away the memory of what I’d seen earlier today.
When the warm water ran out, I climbed out and toweled off.
I picked up the tube of expensive lotion from the counter so I could slather it over my belly.
The stuff was supposed to prevent stretch marks.
Nothing came out when I squeezed the tube.
I unscrewed the lid, stuck my pinkie finger inside, and swirled it around to collect as much of the remaining lotion as I could.
It wasn’t much, just enough to cover about four square inches of skin.
I checked the cabinet, but there was no more lotion.
Argh. I was tempted to go to my toolbox for the WD-40.
That stuff was good for lubricating all kinds of things.
But skin? No. It would probably be toxic, and no way would I risk my baby’s health.
I wrapped the towel around me and scurried to the kitchen, where I used a tablespoon of olive oil to finish the job.
I slid into my pajamas and tossed my clothing into the washing machine.
As the machine filled with water, I e-mailed myself the pics I’d taken of Tyler’s papers with my phone, printed them out, and rounded up my laptop, a ballpoint pen, and a highlighter.
I took a seat at the kitchen table to look the documents over.
The first printout was a handwritten list of story ideas, along with possible titles, followed by a list of subtopics and interview subjects.
1) “Making Tracks”—TN Underground Railroad stations
Secret communication methods
Estimated number of escapees, Lives after escape
Est. number caught, Trials and punishments
Personal stories, Newspaper reports
2) “Sprawl, Y’all”—expansion of Nashville suburbs into LF
Big offer on Pittman property
Developer w/ bad reputation
Windfalls to rural property owners
Small towns absorbed into greater metro area
Effect on wildlife/ecosystems
Interviews: realtors, developers, local property owners, TN Wildlife Resource Agency & TN Dept of Environment and Conservation
3) “Don’t Fear the Reaper”
Rise of plant-based diet/restaurants
Health benefits
Environmental harm/disease from CAFOs/animal welfare
Organic farming/labelling laws—Sufficient to inform consumers?
Farmers markets, Community gardens, Backyard gardens
Interviews: Owners of Victory Garden & other area restaurants, doctors, dieticians
4) “Me and My Shadow”—stalking
Proof
Police response time
Various means of self-defense, protection
Effectiveness or not of protection orders
How widespread is problem?
Punishment for offenders, Harsher legislation needed?
Interviews: MNPD public relations for statistics, victims, psychologists
The first two seemed to have come from his involvement with the Pittman Property.
I assumed “LF” was Tyler’s shorthand for Leipers Fork.
With the Nashville suburbs expanding in all directions, farmers and others who owned rural acreage stood to make a pretty penny when, and if, they sold their land.
But at what cost? As Tyler’s note implied, many of the quaint small towns were losing their identities and charm as urban sprawl overtook them.
Animal habitat was being lost as well, and the loss of natural spaces could be detrimental to fragile ecosystems.
The comment about the developer with the bad reputation caught my attention, but only for a moment since it wasn’t surprising.
Real estate developers were notoriously ruthless.
I couldn’t think of a single developer with a good reputation.
Of course, they weren’t always as awful as people made them out to be, either.
The NIMBY, or not-in-my-backyard, folks could be pretty terrible, too.
They bought houses in areas that were not fully built out, which was always a gamble, then they complained when commercial buildings, low-income housing, wastewater treatment facilities, or other structures that might affect their property values were planned nearby.
Still, I circled the word developer and in the margin wrote Who?
My guess was that a visit to the Victory Garden might have sparked the idea for the third topic, the rise of plant-based diets.
I’d never heard of a CAFO, so I googled the acronym, clicked on the first link, and learned that it stood for concentrated animal feeding operation.
The link indicated that CAFOs were responsible for the spread of bacteria such as E.
coli and salmonella, as well as diseases such as mad cow disease, swine flu, and bird flu.
Bird flu. The thought brought back the image of that black and white chicken feather floating in the air and blowing across Tyler Yee’s shoulders. Hmm.
The last subject, stalking, had likely come from Tyler’s personal experience being stalked by Quentin Sanderson.
It would be a bold move to write about stalking when one was the target of such a creep.
An article could antagonize a stalker further.
Or maybe it would force the matter into the light, and encourage Sanderson to put an end to his antics.