Maybe Forgotten: The Det. Lonnie Mae Moberly Mysteries, #6

By Adeara Allyne

Maybe Forgotten

In quiet Maybe, the past holds secrets...
 
As vintage Barbie dolls and Bel Air cars prove, there was evil even in the iconic 1960s.
 
Now, Detective Lonnie Moberly confronts present fall-out from crimes concealed for decades. Sometimes, long-time neighbors can cause long-term problems...

Also by Adeara 

The Det. Lonnie Mae Moberly Mysteries
In quiet Maybe, bad things happen...

Close Deception - Book 1
Obscure Deception - Book 2
Cryptic Deception - Book 3
Grim Deception - Book 4
Maybe Alone - Book 5
Maybe Forgotten - Book6
Maybe Betrayal - Book 7

A Slice of Life in Maybe, Kentucky

Driving Miss Reba

The Warfield's Landing Series

Silent Caller - Book 1
Hidden Peril - Book 2
Double Secrets - Book 3
Covert Reprisal - Book 4

• Language: English
• Publisher: Adeara Allyne
• Release date: Jun 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386639015

Book preview

1

Detective Lonnie Moberly gritted her teeth and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. Traffic was creeping along at such a slow pace she could have walked faster.

Just like the Washington DC area. Well, except she could see the Kentucky River to her right, the Daniel Boone National Forest loomed on her left, the road was two lanes and meandered its way from the teeming metropolis of downtown Maybe, Kentucky.

She had been giving a deposition on the far side of downtown, which had extended her onerous trip from ten blocks to about twenty. At that whimsical thought, she managed a grim smile.

The lawyer at the other end of the interview had been Frank Lyons, not so affectionately known to some as Frankly Lying. Lonnie's dad had raised her to respect the role that defense attorneys played in a properly functioning justice system. But, Frankly Lying, at the beginning of what was going to be a long day? Yeah, it was a tough way to start her morning.

Her partner had texted her about three hours ago. From the look of the cars parked along the narrow road, and a couple of TV trucks from Lexington, it appeared that she was the last guest at the party.

The TV crews gave her a sinking feeling. This was her first TV case since she'd moved back from the DC area.

She turned off her SUV and climbed out. The driver who had just parked in front of her called out. To her astonishment, it was Dr. Kristin Sanders, Kentucky's forensic anthropologist. Kristin had had to travel all the way from Frankfort, Kentucky, at least a ninety minute trip, which was an added reminder of Lonnie's late arrival.

You just getting here?

I was at a deposition and couldn't leave.

Kristin winced sympathetically. Since the end of North Apple is blocked, dare I ask how far we're going to have to hike?

Fortunately, not very far. North Apple is a one block residential street that ends at the forest.

The two women started walking as Lonnie said, All I know is what Walt texted me. They found a body buried in a back yard. Do you know any more details?

Kristin and Lonnie flanked her partner, Walt Sharp. Lonnie struggled to take in what she was seeing. Walt was kind enough to explain. It's a 1957 Bel Air, two-tone blue, Larkspur Blue and Harbor Blue.

She raised an eyebrow and he tapped his shirt pocket. Google.

She looked around the familiar back yard. She, Rob, and Spot had been entertained there several times. Mel Knight, a new resident to the town of Maybe, had moved into her mother-in-law's childhood home, while she nursed Dorrie through the early stages of dementia.

On their last visit, Mel had mentioned her plans to put in a swimming pool. There had been a very large, homemade, brick and stone fountain where the Bel Air was now.

So the Bel Air was buried and the fountain was built on top of it. Lonnie was thinking out loud.

So it would appear, Walt agreed. "We're still a bit hazy on the timeline. Dorrie collapsed. They just took her away in the ambulance and, of course, Mel went with her.

We haven't been able to find any neighbors who know the exact sequence, so our current guess is that the fountain was built by Dorrie's dad in the early to mid-nineteen sixties.

No! Don't touch that. Don't touch that. Kristin rushed forward in full forensic anthropologist mode, aggressively protecting the burial site.

The car had been partially unearthed. It gave the appearance of having been driven into a hole, its front end lower than the back. The rear lights were clearly visible in all their dramatically finned magnificence. The blue two-tone could be made out if you squinted just right. She could see a plate-sized clean patch on the rear window. Obviously, someone had brushed it clear of dirt.

So the body is in the backseat?

Yep. Danny Boisvert was running the excavator. Walt gave Danny's last name the Kentucky pronunciation -- Boze-Vurt, with an equal emphasis on both syllables. Danny said he had a bad feeling about it, so he uncovered it enough to look and then called us.

Lonnie thought through the implications. So, best case we have a concealed accidental death, worst case we have a murder, both with the added complication of having happened, what? Fifty years ago? She added, Thank goodness it was a hard top, not a convertible.

Walt grinned at her. Yep. Your daddy would be proud of your concise analysis and Miss Reba would be proud of your restrained language.

As he intended, that got him a laugh.

I've never had a buried car with a body. You have any idea how to handle this?

Well, it just so happens I've had a couple hours to think about it.

As Kristin explained, in full forensic anthropologist mode, essentially what they had were two burial sites.

First was the car, which had to be hand dug out of the hole. Danny and his crew, along with a few spare patrol officers from the Maybe Police Department and one or two state police officers, set to work using shovels.

Once it was free of the dirt, the vintage car was winched out and loaded onto a flatbed truck. With all of the doors still closed and secure, it was covered with a large blue tarp and driven to the Maybe Police Department garage. Car and occupant counted as the first burial site. At the garage, Kristin would supervise the body removal.

As she had pointed out, We can only see one body. That doesn't mean that's all there is.

The hole, and the dirt that had been dug out of it, were considered the second burial site. Kristin and her crew would be back first thing the next morning. They would sift through the dirt that had been disturbed already, and then focus on the hole itself.

There's no telling what we'll find. There might be weapons, items that belonged to the victim... Who knows what will be there? While Kristin maintained her sober, respectful demeanor, her eyes sparkled with excitement.

As soon the burial site was secured to her satisfaction, and arrangements had been made to keep an officer on site overnight, she left for the police garage to start work on burial site #1.

Danny Boisvert was Hoss Cartwright picked up off the Ponderosa and plunked down in the forest, and he derived great pleasure in playing up the resemblance. Today he was dressed in well-worn bib overalls,