The Reticence Read online

  LEVI

  FULLER

  A Suspense Mystery Thriller

  The Reticence 2

  ALSO BY LEVI FULLER

  ALMA NOVELS

  Sound of Fear

  Eye of Fear

  Vision of Fear

  Taste of Fear

  Game of Fear

  ISLE OF BUTE NOVELLAS

  The Scent of Bones

  The Secret of Bones

  The Unburied Bones

  The Missing Bone

  Hide The Bones

  LUKE PENBER NOVELLAS

  Bend The Law 1

  Bend The Law 2

  Bend The Law 3

  Bend The Law 4

  Bend The Law 5

  NANTAHALA RIVER

  The Reticence 1

  The Reticence 2

  The Reticence 3

  The Reticence 4

  The Reticence 5

  Audio Book

  Sound of Fear

  Eye of Fear

  Copyright ©2020 by Blue Scallop Digital LLC. – All rights Reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Blue Scallop Digital LLC. – All rights Reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

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  Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1[A1]

  Marcia sat alone in the emergency room, staring blankly at the TV playing with closed caption. It made little difference, though, since she wasn’t listening or reading. She was thinking about her sister, her mind always returning to the pool of her blood on the pavement. Perhaps Havermill wasn’t the place for her and Margo.

  She looked up to find Sheriff Wallace crossing the room, heading straight for her.

  “May I?” the sheriff asked, pointing at the seat.

  Marcia nodded.

  “I just checked with the Doc. Your sister is going to be fine.”

  “I know. It wasn’t the bullet. It was glass.”

  “Yep. Some stitches, some pain meds, and she’ll be as good as new. Luckily, the cut is near her hairline. So, it won’t show.”

  “Another blessing. Who shot at us?” she asked in a hollow voice.

  “I’m looking into that, but I don’t have a clue right now. The bullet passed right on through, so we haven’t been able to recover it. When we do, we’ll know more.”

  “It was a rifle,” Marcia said. “Something with some juice. And I think the shooter intended to miss. I think it was meant to scare us.”

  “Did it?”

  “Of course, but we don’t run at the first sign of resistance. That’s not how we do business,” Marcia said while glancing over his immaculate uniform. She wondered how the sheriff managed to keep it wrinkle-free.

  “I don’t have the manpower to assign a deputy to your security. I hope you understand.”

  “We don’t need a bodyguard. We need to launch an investigation. Use your deputies for that.”

  “I will. We take the safety of our county seriously. When we find the shooter, and we will, we’ll make sure that he goes away for a while.”

  She nodded at his words. “Works for me.”

  A doctor walked over, interrupting their discussion. Marcia immediately rose to her feet.

  “Marcia Fleming?”

  “That’s me.”

  “You can come on back and see your sister. She’s doing fine. Some stitches, but no concussion or anything. We’re going to release her.”

  “Go to your sister,” the sheriff said. “I have to be going anyway.”

  “Keep me informed?” Marcia asked.

  “Always,” he answered.

  Marcia turned to the doctor. “Lead the way.”

  “By the way, I’m Rick Fee,” the doctor said. “And your sister is not the most cooperative patient I’ve ever had.”

  “She doesn’t like being shot at, and she hates bleeding. I’m sure you understand.”

  “I do. But you have to convince her that for the next forty-eight hours, she should take it easy. And if she’s going to shower, she needs to put some waterproof tape on the stitches.”

  “I’ll make sure of that.”

  Margo was sitting on the bed when Marcia arrived.

  “Feel like leaving?” Marcia asked.

  “You never should have brought me here. You could have sewn me up yourself,” she grumbled.

  “My needle and thread skills are limited, as you know. Besides, if I made a mistake, I’d never hear the end of it.”

  “You’re not going to hear the end of it now. You were driving, so, obviously, it’s your fault.”

  “But you were sitting in the passenger seat. You should have been in the back.”

  “Hah! No such luck. Can we get the window fixed quickly?”

  “Not here in Havermill. We’ll have to drive to Ashville or Charlotte.”

  “Charlotte. We can visit Cummins at the same time,” Margo suggested.

  “I agree. Tomorrow.”

  “Why not now?” Margo insisted, and Marcia rolled her eyes. She was the worst patient.

  “You’ve to take it easy for forty-eight hours. I figure twelve is as good as I can hope for.”

  Margo laughed. “You got that right. Who do we have to see next?”

  “We don’t have anyone. But I think that we should stop by Becky Salter’s cabin on our way back home.”

  Margo soon discovered that Becky Salter’s cabin was insufferably warm. Despite the heat, Becky wore a sweater and a blanket over her legs. Becky smiled, but the smile was forced. Margo could tell that the cancer was slowly destroying the older woman.

  “I apologize for not getting up,” Becky said. “It’s been a long day. Is that blood on your shirt?”

  Margo pulled up her hair to show the bandage. “Little cut. No big deal.”

  “We’ve stopped by,” Marcia said, “to talk about your ex-husband.”

  Becky’s eyes widened.

  “We did some digging, and according to his truck, he was much closer to Havermill than he said he was.”

  “I… I don’t understand. He wasn’t on the other side of the Mississippi?”

  “I know his logbook says that, but he was only forty miles away when Mandy disappeared.”

  “Why would he lie?” Becky asked with a frown. She started fidgeting with her fingers resting in her lap.

  “There are several reasons,” Margo said. “The logbook is official. If he made it all the way to North Carolina, he would have been behind the wheel too many hours. A lot of truckers falsify their hours. It’s a way to meet their schedules, especially when they run into traffic or construction.”

  “That’s Charlie. He would cheat as much as he needed.”

  “You had no idea he was so close?”

  “No, I never had any reason to doubt him.”


  “Do you know where he was?”

  “No. I guess I was just a trusting wife,” Becky replied with a wry smile.

  “You never thought he had another woman on the side?”

  “I didn’t. And after Mandy, well, I went into a funk, a depression. For a couple of months, I didn’t talk to anyone, not even Charlie. I didn’t care if he had someone else. I didn’t care about much of anything.”

  “We’re going to look into it,” Marcia said. “Do you have a way of contacting Charlie?”

  “We haven’t spoken in years. I’ll have to look through some things.”

  “We would appreciate that.”

  Marcia glanced to the side, noticing that Margo was signaling her that it was time to go.

  “If you need anything,” Margo said. “Call us. We’re not far away.”

  “Thank you. I will.”

  In the car, Margo stared out of the windowless door. “Not a good day.”

  “Not a good day,” Marcia echoed. “We need some sleep.”

  “Tomorrow, Charlotte. Window and Cummins, correct?”

  “Correct. We can’t drive around the mountains without a window. We’ll freeze to death.”

  “Thank you,” Margo said in a soft voice.

  “For what?”

  “For being there, for getting me to the hospital, and for not freaking out. I was scared to death, and you were as cool as ice,” Margo explained while giving her a meaningful look.

  “I was more scared than you, but you remember what dad always said. If you’re afraid, you can’t think. If you’re scared enough, you panic. Panic will get you killed.”

  “I remember. And just say thank you when I show appreciation next time, all right?” Margo said with a chuckle.

  Marcia laughed. “Thank you.”

  Margo grabbed her cup of coffee with both hands. Even though Marcia had turned up the heat, Margo was still freezing, with the cold draft whipping her hair and turning her ears to ice. It was a weird sensationwarm feet, but cold ears.

  “Is it going to be warmer in Charlotte?” Margo laughed.

  “Want my coat?”

  “Then, you would freeze. And I don’t want a freezing person driving me to Charlotte,” Margo said matter-of-factly.

  “It will be warmer, but there’s a chance of rain. That won’t be good. We have to replace the window before it rains.”

  “You made an appointment?”

  “I did, and the good news is our insurance will pay for it. It’s something about car glass. Insurance companies cover it, no questions asked.”

  “Just get us there before my ears fall off.”

  Once they arrived, Margo poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe in the waiting room. The coffee was free and… terrible. It was bitter and hardly tasted like coffee, but it was hot, and that was enough. She just wanted to feel warm again. Grabbing a seat beside Marcia, Margo held on tight to her steaming cup.

  “Did you call mom and dad?” Margo asked.

  “Not yet,” Marcia said. “I wanted to make sure you were coherent and ready to tell them that you’re perfectly all right.”

  “I’m always coherent.”

  “No, sometimes, you’re not. Sometimes, you’re scared, like me. Besides, you know we have to take a picture of your wound and send it to them. They’ll have questions, and they might want us to quit. We will assure them that we’re perfectly all right. We will take every precaution in the future. And we’ll wrap up this case in record time. Think you can do that?”

  “Of course, I can do that. We’ll convince them that we’re fine. You did bring a pistol with you, didn’t you?”

  “From now on, we don’t go anywhere without our guns. So, yes, I have mine with me.”

  “That’s good. How long will this take?”

  “They said an hour, so expect it to take at least three hours,” Marcia replied with a roll of her eyes.

  Margo pulled out her phone. “I’m going to read.”

  The replacement took three and a half hours, and by then, they were both one step beyond feeling pissed. They stopped for lunch, which consisted of tacos, Margo’s favorite. Then, they headed for the retirement community where Cummins lived, called Centennial Place.

  The retirement community looked like a hundred other places throughout Florida. The sisters knew all about them, as they had visited several in their investigations. Centennial Place featured several buildings with condos, small and larger houses, and a medical facility specializing in treating those that could no longer live alone. Mixed in with all of the housing were several pools, tennis courts, shuffleboard courts, and bocce lanes. One building housed the workout facilities and an indoor pool. The restaurant and administration offices were found in a large clubhouse.

  Tom Cummins lived in a third-floor condo in a three-story building. The elevator smelled of disinfectant and lavender, a mix that almost made Margo gag. She didn’t like heavy perfumes. To her, it usually meant there had been an accident in the not-too-distant past.

  When Cummins opened the door, Margo realized that she was looking at someone who would not probably live for much longer. The man was stooped, emaciated, and wore a multicolor stocking cap over his bald head. He smiled at them while pushing his wire-rim glasses up his steep nose.

  “Come in, come in,” he said. “You must be the famous Fleming sisters.”

  “Not so famous,” Marcia said.

  “Almost famous,” Margo corrected.

  He laughed. “Come in and have a seat. Would you like coffee or tea or perhaps a soda?”

  “Coffee,” Margo said. “And I’ll get it.” She headed straight for the kitchen.

  “I appreciate that,” Cummins said. “And one for me.”

  The condo was clean and fashionable, but it still looked worn. To Marcia, all condos became worn after a while. Perhaps, it was the constant change of ownership, as condos flipped more often than houses. At least, that was what she believed. She settled on a brown leather couch that had seen better days. In his starched, blue shirt and khaki slacks, Cummins sat opposite her in a newer recliner. She supposed that was where he spent most of his time. The prints on the walls were all travel-related. A shot of the Golden Gate bridge. A print of Key West. A painting of a Paris café. She guessed those were the cities he had visited and enjoyed. There was no picture of Charlotte, however, which surprised her.

  “I know why you’re here,” Cummins said. “But before we get there, I’d like to know a bit more about you. I’ve read internet blurbs. So, surprise me with some new information.”

  “Well,” Marcia began. “We don’t really have much of a footprint if you know what I mean. We just find interesting murders to research, and then, we write.”

  “I’m a reader,” he said. “I always have been. And now, that I can’t be as active as I once was, I read as much as my tired, old eyes allow me. Of course, at my age, I reread things. And I have to say; I enjoy them as much as the first reading. I tend to forget things, you know.” He plucked a speck of lint off his pants and laid it on the end table.

  “I’ll tell you this,” Marcia said. “When we solve a case, we make people happy. The ones left behind are always grateful.”

  “I can appreciate that.”

  Margo re-entered the room carrying three cups on a tray. After handing them out, she took a seat beside Marcia.

  “All right,” Cummins said. “I suppose you’re in a hurry. Everyone is these days, but I’m not. I’m moving all too quickly toward my demise. I would like to stretch out time if I could. But that’s not possible. I am not as sharp as I once was, but I’ll answer your questions as best as I can. I suppose the first thing you want to know is who killed Mandy Salter.”

  CHAPTER 2

  “You know who killed Mandy Salter?” Marcia asked.

  “Not really. I have my suspicions, of course. Everyone who lived in Havermill at that time had a suspicion. You realize that a murder such as Mandy’s is like a weed in a community o
f that size. It pops up, spreads its seeds, and pretty soon, the entire landscape is ruined. Suspicion does that. You start looking at your neighbor, the butcher, or the pastor, and you wonder if it was him who took the girl’s life. People add another lock to their door and make sure their children are never left alone for any reason. Kids get stunted in that kind of environment. They never get the chance to explore or to get into trouble. They learn to live vicariously through games and porn. I’m afraid we’re raising people who are afraid to walk out of their front door.”

  Marcia studied the man as he sipped his coffee.

  “You know,” Cummins said. “I’m not supposed to have more than two cups of coffee. So, I never fix myself a third cup. However, if someone makes a cup for me, well, I am never inhospitable.” He smiled mischievously.

  “Tell us,” Margo said. “What do you remember about Mandy.”

  “I was an assistant principal,” Cummins said. “So, I didn’t have her in class. I knew that she was a capable student and a solid athlete. She was the sort of student that would go as far as she wanted to go. With the right encouragement, she would have finished college, started a career, and probably married well. She wasn’t one of the girls who would marry two weeks after graduation and give birth three months after that… if she married at all. I liked what I knew about her. I think all the teachers would tell you that.”

  “No problems? No enemies? No secrets? No issues at home?”

  “Who doesn’t have problems, secrets, and enemies? This world doesn’t play favorites. We all arrive with similar challenges. What you really want to know is if she had great problems, secrets that might get her killed. The answer to that is no. She didn’t run with kids that were walking the edge.”

  “Did you see her the day she disappeared?”

  Cummins looked off to the side for a moment as if remembering. Marcia couldn’t help but wonder if he was experiencing cognitive issues.

  “I kicked her out of the gym,” Cummins said.

  “She was practicing her serve. We know,” Margo said.