Culpable

By Karen Casebeer

Murder is unheard of in this quaint Northwoods village on the shores of Lake Michigan. But when Miles Connor dies unexpectedly, an autopsy concludes he was poisoned. Lakeland County Sheriff Edward Robbins quickly begins an inquiry. Narrowing his probe to two very dissimilar suspects, Robbins examines the motivations of each and finally makes an arrest. As the story rushes to its conclusion, the characters grapple with questions of justice, retribution, and redemption.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karen Casebeer
• Release date: Jul 3, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463371503

Karen Casebeer

I grew up in southwestern Michigan and graduated from Western Michigan University, where I studied writing with Ken Macrorie. I taught secondary school English and Latin for twenty-five years in suburban Kalamazoo. After retiring from teaching, I returned to WMU to obtain my doctoral degree in Counselor Education and Counseling Psychology. I practiced as a licensed psychologist in Kalamazoo for another 14 years. I currently teach social science at Davenport University.Writing has always played an important role in my life: keeping a journal, writing professional articles, helping students become authentic writers, and writing college papers and a dissertation. But writing a novel didn't start until I moved to Northwestern Lower Michigan. There, my love of the Northwoods, crime fiction, and psychology all came together with my first novel Culpable. I'm excited to introduce my second novel Spinning, which debuts rookie law enforcement officer Quinn Macarthy. Spinning also launches the new crime series featuring Quinn Macarthy.

Book preview

Part One: The Murder

Chapter 1

It was a grim procession. Mary Ellen pushed her mother’s wheelchair, with Larry and Eva Mitchell following, and housekeeper Wanda Packard bringing up the rear. Only the sound of Wanda’s rubber-soled shoes shuffling over the terrazzo broke the quiet. They’d just settled into the intensive care waiting room when pulmonary specialist Dr. George Haslett came in to update them.

Mrs. Connor, I’m sorry to report that your husband’s in grave condition. His blood pressure has become dangerously low, his pulse is very irregular, and he’s fallen into a coma. As soon as we get him stabilized, you can go in and see him. I’m sorry I don’t have better news.

Lydia nodded her head at the doctor’s explanation, as tears coated her face. Haslett touched her on her shoulder and then disappeared back into the unit.

For the next two hours, the group made small talk as they waited for an update on Miles’ condition.

Larry glanced towards Lydia, slumped in her wheelchair. She's so frail. I bet she doesn’t weigh a hundred pounds, he thought. He finally gave voice to what he’d been thinking.

It just doesn’t make sense to me how Miles is healthy one day and dying two days later. And the symptoms. His are the same ones Lydia’s had. It started with vomiting and diarrhea, and then he got numbness in his hands. But his illness has progressed way faster than hers.

He couldn’t hardly shave hisself yesterday, Wanda added. That’s why I had to drive him to emergency.

Does anyone have any ideas what could be causing this? The illnesses have too many similarities not to try connecting them, said Larry.

Lydia and Mary Ellen exchanged glances, but neither said a word.

Wanda piped up, Miles thought something’s in the water?

Are you serious? Miles thought something was wrong with your water? Larry said, searching for something more from either Lydia or Mary Ellen.

It’s one thing we talked about that might be causing mom’s problems, Mary Ellen replied. But it was just a passing idea; nothing more.

Have you checked it out? Did you call the Health Department?

Before the conversation could continue, Dr. Haslett entered the waiting room. I’m sorry, Mrs. Connor. We couldn’t get Miles stabilized, and he died minutes ago.

Chapter 2

The Connors and the Mitchells had been longtime friends. Both couples divided their time between their estates on the North Shore in Lake Forest, Illinois, and their summer residences high on the Lake Michigan bluffs of northwestern Lower Michigan.

The morning after Miles died, the Mitchells returned to the hospital to see how they could help. Lydia had been hospitalized with her third attack of gastroenteritis that summer. She’d experienced nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and abdominal pain, and more recently, numbness to her hands and feet, making her gait unsteady and necessitating the use of a walker.

Eva greeted Lydia with a hug, How’re you doing, Lyd?

I’m just numb, Eva. I can’t believe Miles is gone.

Such a shock to us all. What do you need right now?

She thought a moment and said, Some help planning Miles’ funeral. Could the two of you get with Mary Ellen and Tommy to make the arrangements? Something modest and brief, she said.

We can certainly do that.

After hesitating a moment at the doorway, Dr. Eugene Owens, the Connors’ internist, entered Lydia’s room and sat down in the chair next to her bed. He took her hand and expressed his sympathy to her and Mary Ellen.

Lydia, I’d like your permission to have an autopsy performed on Miles, Owens said. Because Miles hadn’t exhibited any medical issues before he became ill, I’m hoping an autopsy will give us some answers why Miles’ medical status deteriorated so rapidly.

Yes, that’s fine, doctor. I’d like to understand that too, Lydia said.

I’m relieved to hear that, doctor. It just doesn’t make sense why Miles passed so quickly when he’d been a picture of health, Larry added.

Shortly after Dr. Owens left, Larry and Eva set up a time to meet with Mary Ellen, Tom, and the funeral home directors to plan Miles’ service. Then they left Lydia in Mary Ellen’s care and went home.

Lydia had two adult children. Mary Ellen was the oldest and married to Leon Matthews. The couple had two children, and Mary Ellen often spent summers with them at Breezy Bluffs, the cottage Lydia’s father had built in the 1920s. Leon would join them for vacation time or long weekends, as his work permitted. Lydia’s son, Tom, lived in the guesthouse at the back of the property. He was divorced but saw his two young daughters every Wednesday evening and every other weekend. Tom and Mary Ellen were actually from Lydia’s first marriage to Walter Bissell, who’d died young of a heart attack when the children were still in elementary school.

Mary Ellen was getting ready to leave the hospital when Lydia quietly said, Why hasn’t Tommy been up to see me, Mary Ellen? Has something happened?

Oh, mom. I can hardly talk about him.

Then something has happened, hasn’t it?

A couple of nights after you went back into the hospital, Tom got very drunk. Again. He’d been ranting about the new legal documents you’d drawn up making Miles guardian over your estate and finances. Tom blathered on and on that it should have been him or me in charge. At that point, Miles was starting to get sick himself, and he spent the day running between the bedroom and the bathroom. Later that evening, at his drunkest, Tom went into the garage and started up Miles’ new Lincoln. He tore out the driveway, and it wasn’t long before he’d crashed it into a tree just outside of town. A passerby called the Sheriff’s Department. When the deputies arrived and found Tom passed out at the wheel, they arrested him for drunk driving and put him in jail, where he remains. He’s also lost his license because that was his third offense.

Were you going to tell me about this, Mary Ellen?

Yes, mom, I was. But with you and Miles both sick, I thought it’d do Tom some good to let him dry out in jail for a few days. Then when Miles died, well, Tom’s stuff just went to the back burner.

When you get home, Mary Ellen, you'll call Larry right away, and the two of you will get Tom released right away.

Yes, mother, I'll do that.

Oh, my. We won’t have to listen to Miles and Tommy fight anymore. Tommy’s bad behaviors rankled Miles so much.

I’d say Miles was just as mad at you, mother, for spoiling Tom and giving him endless financial support.

Poor man won’t have to deal with that either.

Chapter 3

When Larry and Eva arrived at Breezy Bluffs to help plan Miles’ service, Mary Ellen was already sitting with the funeral directors. Although Larry had sprung Tom from jail the evening before, he was noticeably absent from the meeting.

The Connors weren’t religious, so they planned to have the service at the funeral home on Saturday morning at 10 a.m. One of the directors would serve as moderator for the ceremony. Larry, along with Miles’ business partner, would deliver eulogies, followed by others who wished to share remembrances. With the service planned, the directors departed, leaving Mary Ellen with a book containing specific choices for readings, funeral music, and floral sprays so she and Lydia could make those selections together.

After the Mitchells left the meeting, Larry began to feel uneasy. He tried to process what he knew about Miles’ sudden illness and death, but he couldn’t make sense of it. He thought perhaps a drive along the lakeshore might ease his anxiety. He knew he was in shock that Miles had died when his friend had hardly been sick a day in his life. Why, only a few days ago Miles had flown the four-seat Cessna Skyhawk they co-owned!

Larry could also see the similarities in the symptoms Miles had displayed before he died and the ones Lydia had been having throughout her illness. He wasn’t sure what to make of them, though. He wondered too about Miles’ idea that something might be wrong with the water. Why weren’t they doing something about that? After all, Lydia had been sick for much of the summer and Miles had just died.

But another matter was bothering Larry even more, one that was so dark he almost didn’t dare consider it. He couldn’t voice what he was thinking to Eva either, and he shared everything with her. After his long drive, Larry still couldn't get the worries out of his mind. When he finally went to bed, all he could do was ruminate about what he should do, making for a long night of tossing and turning.

Chapter 4

She smelled him. A mixture of whiskey and stale cigarettes created a sourness that oozed from his pores as he came down the basement steps. She began stuffing the towels into the washer, trying to tamp down the terror that was rising from deep inside her core. He groaned as he missed the last step and went down. Turning to see if he was still coming or had passed out, her heart began to race, and she could barely breathe as she watched him slowly rise and continue unsteadily towards her.

Go away, she pleaded in the strongest voice she could muster. I don’t want nothing to do with you.

He kept staggering in her direction until he reached her. His arms encircled her girth, and he began fondling her breasts.

No, please stop.

She could feel his stiffness as he pushed her body up against the washer.

You know you like it, he slurred. Your husband’s nothing.

Steering her from behind, he pushed her over onto the old plaid couch in the corner. Fumbling through her clothes, he pulled at her underwear. Finally, getting them off, he unzipped his pants and entered her as she wept quietly. As he pumped himself into her, she absently picked at the stuffing that was coming out of the couch front. Finally spent, he collapsed on top of her with a loud groan. She struggled to get out from under him, but finally heaved him off and headed towards the stairs. She started up, wiping the tears from her face and mumbling, My husband can’t find out. He’d kill me, for sure.

Chapter 5

The next day Medical Examiner Roy Rafferty performed the autopsy on Miles Connor. Trained as a pathologist, Rafferty often did clinical post-mortems when a patient's cause of death wasn’t apparent, as in this case. Two assistants helped him; one worked with Rafferty on the actual autopsy, while the second took notes and transcribed the findings that Rafferty dictated. Using standard autopsy procedure, Rafferty performed both external and internal examinations of Miles’ body. He also took samples of Miles’ tissues, stomach contents, urine, blood, intestines, and bile from the gallbladder. In putting together his preliminary findings, Rafferty noted he’d found some mild arteriosclerosis in Miles’ coronary arteries and an enlarged heart, but neither of those diagnoses would account for his rapid decline and death. Rafferty hoped something would come together better when the results returned from the lab in a week or two.

Before Rafferty left the hospital for the day, he decided to let Lydia know his preliminary results and that he wanted to delay Miles’ burial until he knew more. As he rode the elevator up to her room, he could see why this patient had been so puzzling to Owens. The heart and lung symptoms just didn’t fit with the intestinal features that were such a major part of this patient's illness. He felt sad when he entered Lydia’s room, saw her dozing, and realized the Connors weren’t going to enjoy the retirement years they’d been planning together.

Lydia stirred and Rafferty took her hand and seated himself at her bedside. He went on to tell her that he hadn’t found a convincing cause of death from the autopsy but hoped more definitive results would come back with the lab tests. Rafferty said he still wanted to wait to bury Miles. As he stood and let go of Lydia’s hand, he noticed something.

What’s going on with your fingernails, Lydia? I see you’ve got some lines of discoloration across them.

I don’t know, doctor. My manicurist asked the same thing.

How long have you had them?

I’m not sure. I think the lines have gradually appeared over the last year or two.

Have you shared this with Dr. Owens?

I didn’t see any reason to, and I don’t think he’s noticed them, but I will. Do they mean something?

I’m not sure, Lydia, but I think it’s always a good idea to report changes in your body to your doctor. I’m going to head out now. You take care. As Rafferty left the hospital, he began to think in new directions about what might be going on with the Connors.

***

Later that same day, Larry was still struggling with anxiety. He decided he couldn't hold off talking to Mary Ellen any longer. He phoned her and made small talk at first. Then he asked her about the water and how long they'd had concerns regarding its possible contamination. Even though Mary Ellen gave some vague answers, Larry pressed on about contacting the Health Department to get the water tested. She said she'd think about it but really didn’t want to involve the authorities.

Larry was still frustrated after the conversation with Mary Ellen. He couldn't fathom why no one was taking any action. He finally sought out Eva and shared what he'd been keeping bottled up inside. She reached out to support and comfort him. She also ended their conversation with a piece of cautionary advice.

You know, Larry, the Connors have been our best friends for much of our lives. I think we need to take this slow and respect the Connors right to privacy. I think we should see how this all pans out before we contact any authorities.

Chapter 6

Edward Robbins had been Sheriff of Lakeland County for over twenty years. He was tall and lanky, athletic in build, and although his close-cropped hair was completely gray, he hadn’t given a thought to retirement. He enjoyed his job with its low crime location, six weeks of vacation, and continued community support. But on Friday morning, he received a visitor whose concerns would end up shocking the county in a way that hadn't happened before.

Larry Mitchell walked into the Sheriff’s Office unannounced shortly before 9 a.m. His body was tight with anxiety, especially after his wife's caveat the previous evening. Sheriff Robbins greeted Larry with a handshake and offered him a cup of coffee.

Thanks, Sheriff, but I’d just like to get this over with, Larry said. Robbins silently led him into the office and closed the door.

So what’s going on, Larry?

You’ve probably heard that my good friend, Miles Connor, died a few days ago.

Yes, I’d heard that, Larry. I’m so sorry. I hadn’t realized that Miles had been ill.

He wasn’t, Sheriff. That’s the problem. Miles hadn’t been sick a day in his life. He was out flying our plane just a couple days before he died.

Did he have a heart attack or an accident?

No, he didn’t. It’d be a lot easier to understand if he had. It started with intestinal problems, and then numbness in his hands developed. It was similar to his wife Lydia’s symptoms, but Miles’ illness was way more intense than hers, and it progressed much faster.

What are the doctors saying?

Owens said Miles had respiratory failure, but he admitted to being puzzled about Miles’ fast decline and death. I think there’s going to be an autopsy.

It sounds to me like you’re dealing with the shock of Miles’ sudden death, Larry. I’m not sure how I can help with that.

It’s not in my head, Sheriff. I have a creepy, gut-level hunch that Miles may not have died from natural causes. I’ve not been sleeping since he died because I’m so sure something suspicious is going on.

What are you basing your hunches on?

Well, for one thing, I heard that Miles was concerned there was something wrong with the water. Like it might be contaminated.

Where did you learn that?

In the intensive care waiting room. Wanda Packard, the Connors’ housekeeper, let it slip.

She let it slip?

When I tried to ask Mary Ellen and Lydia about it, they seemed to clam up. I asked whether they’d called the Health Department to have their water tested, but the only answer I got was from Mary Ellen, that they didn’t want to involve the authorities.

Okay, so you’re concerned the Connors’ water is somehow contaminated and are suspicious because they’d not called in the Health Department. Am I reading you right? You think Miles died from bad water? Anything else?

Well, yes, I guess there is. You know how Tom Bissell hated his stepdad?

Yes, that’s been common knowledge around town, but connect the dots for me, Larry. Are you saying the contaminated water or Tom had something to do with Miles’ death?

Sheriff, you haven’t witnessed the vile hatred Tom had for Miles. And the Connors had just changed their will. Mary Ellen and Tom stand to get a lot of money when their parents die.

"So you think that's a motive? For killing Miles?

Feeling somewhat chagrined at bringing the whole case to the Sheriff, Larry sat for a moment and slowly nodded.

Just check it out, Sheriff. I trust my gut. I know the family. Miles is being buried after his service tomorrow. If something malicious is going on, you’ll want to get on this right away.

Let me nose around. I’ll talk to Dr. Rafferty and have him put a hold on the burial. Meanwhile, get some rest, Larry. This grief stuff can be tough. Maybe you should talk to your doctor about getting some medication to help you through this ordeal.

Larry felt anger spread through his body as Robbins walked him to the door. He thinks I’m a nutcase about my suspicions, Larry thought. They shook hands and departed without another word.

After Larry left, Robbins took a few minutes to collect his thoughts. Even though he wasn’t putting much stock in Larry’s suspicions, he knew he had to do some follow-up. Robbins started by calling Dr. Owens, and they discussed the similarities between Miles and Lydia’s intestinal symptoms. He asked Owens whether the Connors had expressed any concerns about their water supply and he said they hadn’t.

Robbins followed his talk with Owens with a call to Dr. Rafferty. He told Robbins that he'd completed the autopsy on Miles’ body, but still hadn’t found a conclusive cause of death. He said he was waiting on lab results before deciding his next step.

Robbins asked, What do you think is going on, doc?

Rafferty shared his suspicions while Robbins listened intently. For the first time, he began to give credence to Larry’s concerns. Robbins asked whether Rafferty would be at Miles’ funeral in the morning and he said he would. They decided on a preliminary action they would take after the service was over.

Chapter 7

Saturday morning, an ambulance pulled up to the funeral home, and two attendants got out to help Lydia into a wheelchair. Her family pulled up behind the ambulance, and children and grandchildren disembarked from their cars. Mary Ellen’s husband wheeled his mother-in-law into the funeral home.

Chairs were set up on both sides of the chapel, and the family came up the center aisle. They paused at Miles’ oak casket covered with a spray of yellow roses, leather ferns, and baby’s breath. As she quietly wept, Lydia reached out and laid her hand on the closed casket. The family seated itself on couches in the front row. Larry and Eva Mitchell arrived next, accompanied by Miles’ business partner and his wife. More friends and family arrived, paid their condolences to Lydia, found seats, and waited for the service to begin. Somber organ music played softly in the background.

Sheriff Robbins and Dr. Rafferty slipped in slightly before 10 a.m., and stood against the back wall so they could get an overview of the service and its attendees. Just as the funeral was to begin, there was a commotion at the door, and Tom entered, unsteady on his feet. He started towards the front row but noticed no one had saved a spot for him. Miffed, he began to leave, but Larry quickly got up and added a chair at the end of a row so Tom could sit with his mother.

The service went as planned, a couple of readings, an organ solo, short eulogies by Larry and Miles’ partner, and words of remembrance by three others. In less than an hour, it was over. Visitors lingered a while, quietly talking with each other and the family. Finally, the medical attendants wheeled Lydia outside, lifted her into the ambulance, and returned her to the hospital.

The last to leave the service, Tom walked up to Miles' casket and paused there a few moments. His body began to quiver as he clenched and unclenched his fists. He finally turned around and shuffled towards the exit, his face flushed in rage. Robbins asked if he needed a ride and Tom said he preferred to walk. With the chapel now empty, Robbins and Rafferty got the funeral home director to open Miles' casket. The Medical Examiner snipped hair and fingernail samples from Miles' body and put them in sterile bags. Rafferty and Robbins then drove to the hospital, rode the elevator up to Lydia’s room, and took the same specimen types from her. Their preliminary work nearly done, Rafferty returned to his office while Robbins drove the samples to the Michigan Department of Public Safety (MDPS) Lab in Lansing. He hoped a fast turnaround on the results would confirm the suspicions Rafferty had shared with him earlier.

Chapter 8

Housekeeper Wanda Packard had worked eight summers for the Connors. She’d begun her job as a teenager by helping out her mother, who’d held the housekeeping position for many years prior. Wanda’s duties included cleaning, doing laundry, some meal preparation, and occasional shopping. While Wanda was a hard worker, she was of limited intellect and had dropped out of high school during tenth grade. In contrast to her academic work, she’d been successful with her art classes and had even won an award from the art department for her paintings. Wanda, now around thirty, lived in a trailer behind her parents’ farm with her husband Wayne and their three children. Wayne did occasional odd jobs at Breezy Bluffs too, but mostly he watched their three children while Wanda worked. Rumor had it that he couldn’t hold down a steady job because of his drinking. Wayne’s temper had gotten him in trouble too. Some said he occasionally beat Wanda, though charges had never been brought against him.

On this August morning, already thick with heat and humidity, Lydia invited Wanda to share a first cup of coffee with her. She'd been home from the hospital for two weeks now and was eager to bring a kernel of normalcy to her life.

Catch me up on what's been going on, Wanda, Lydia said.

Wanda asked, How are you feeling?

I’m getting stronger every day. How are your little ones?

"Good. Bobby likes his pre-school classes, and the girls are just happy to be out of school for