Chapter 10 – Lifted
973 Words
Chapter 10 – Lifted
Mel
Tuesday Afternoon, October 14th, 2014
Gatlinburg, Tennessee
“Are we going to live to regret that?”
Dana looked back across the table at me, rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You don’t know my mom that well yet. Had we not said, ‘go ahead’, she would have continued right on as she had been. Hopefully your mom being involved will buffer some of that.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. You just gave those two free rein with your bank card.”
Dana groaned low. “What a day we’ve already had...”
Our server brought our sweet teas. “Have ya’ll decided?”
Dana, already familiar with the barbecue joint we were sitting in, in Gatlinburg, ordered herself the sampler platter with the house sauce on the side and a side of mac and cheese. She smacked her lips after ordering that last bit.
The college aged waiter turned to me, “For you ma’am?”
Trusting the instincts of my always hungry wife, I ordered the same. The young man smiled and took his leave.
“You won’t be sorry babe. Bennett’s is the best around here.”
We chatted for just a few short minutes about what to do with the rest of our day but because our food was presented so quickly, we abandoned that conversation in short order and tucked in.
Dana finally lifted her head about half way through her lunch. “You know what bugs me about this whole mess?” she asked. “It’s their indifference. A woman died for heaven’s sake. Someone shot her. Because you can’t figure out something right away or because she’s not local, you just write it off? That just doesn’t fly with me.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it either. The trouble is, there really isn’t anything we can do about it, at least not till we get back to Ohio.”
“What then?”
“Think about it, you said yourself, you thought the police here are hiding something. That may be true. That they’re lazy may also be true though. She’s from Ohio. She dies here by an unknown hand that probably wasn’t a hunter. Maybe someone from back home wanted her dead and followed her down here to do it.”
Dana half shrugged, “It’s certainly possible.”
“How’s your lunch ladies?” I hadn’t even noticed the server approaching the table.
“Just fine,” I managed.
“Pardon me for interrupting but I couldn’t help overhearing, were you two talking about that woman that was shot?”
Dana nodded but I didn’t say anything.
“That was such a shame. They were good customers, used to come in a couple of nights a week or more because he really liked the brisket and she was a fan of our ribs.”
“She was with someone when she died?” I asked him, trying not to sound over eager.
“Not that the papers said, no, but she was usually down here with a man for a weekend or a few days every month and, like I said, they’d eat dinner here a couple of times each time.”
“Did you know them?” Dana asked.
“Personally? No, not outside the restaurant. I just know regulars when I see them and they were pretty regular.”
“Do you know his name?” I asked him.
“Sorry, no. Had I known, I’d have told the police then.” He took his leave to attend to another table.
“Funny,” Dana said, I made him out to be a college kid picking up some extra hours before every place around here slows down for the dead of winter. Sure seems like he’s been around.”
“Not only that, his information was more helpful then maybe he even realizes. Patricia probably wasn’t alone and the prints may very well have told the Sheriff’s department who was with her had they bothered to finish lifting them.”
Dana looked at me, her expression puzzled, “So, you’ll do some digging then when we get home?”
“Yeah, but here’s another thought: they haven’t sent anybody by our cabin to clean again and it’s doubtful they will before we leave. We need to try and lift those prints.”
“How?”
“The old fashioned way, transparent tape.”
We ran into a drugstore after lunch and got a small roll of packing tape and some rubber gloves.
Looking at the prints, back at the cabin, I could see that they were angled as if someone had knelt on the floor between the stand and the Jacuzzi and reached out to touch it, maybe for stability on the way down to their knees or back up. They certainly were oddly located and positioned to be plausible for any other explanation.
As carefully as I could, I lifted the prints highlighted by the fingerprint powder and inspected my work. There was little residue no left on the stand and it appeared I’d gotten good transfer to the tape. Local incompetence might just pay off yet.
While Dana packed the tapes up for shipping, I called my old friend Izzy at the crime lab in Columbus and asked her for a favor. She agreed to let me overnight the print tapes to her so we headed back out to find a place to ship them from.
It was early evening by the time we were out and about again. The Gatlinburg post office was closed. We found a Pak Mail place that told us they’d send it out but that we’d missed the overnight pick-up. Izzy wouldn’t get the prints until Thursday. I left her a message and then gave my wife the once over.
“It looks like we’ve done all we can do for now, babe. It’s back to enjoying each other’s company.”
Dana smiled up at me, “I’m okay with that.”
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Wednesday Morning, October 15th, 2014
We woke to a cool morning drizzle in the Gatlinburg area but, after jumping on the laptop, Dana determined Cherokee North Carolina was experiencing a beautiful fall day. She packed us up and we headed out on a leisurely trip through the mountains and into North Carolina.
We enjoyed the great outdoors for a while and then, in the heat of the day, we packed it into another one of Mama Rossi’s favorite casinos to take bus trips to, as Dana tells it, Harrah’s Cherokee, and we lost as much money as we could stand to lose. Dana’s past luck with handicapping pro baseball games didn’t seem to extend to playing blackjack, video poker or slots. I didn’t plan on letting her forget it.
- Writer
