Corner Pieces

By Anthony Harden

A heinous crime has been committed and the evidence implicating Jesse Hackett is overwhelming. Yet Lisa Dorsey, a pathologist and recent acquaintance, cannot bring herself to accept the obvious. Tangled in thirty years of pain and deceit, the cost of finding the truth may be very high. This is a fast paced murder mystery and romance with intriguing glimpses into crime scene investigation and laboratory forensics. Suspenseful twists and turns showcase the resilience of human spirit and incredible strength of inner will.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 2, 2011
• ISBN: 9781463413590

Anthony Harden

Anthony Harden has practiced pathology for 30 years in western Arkansas. He and his wife, Beverly, have two grown children. Dr. Harden is a commercial pilot, addicted runner, avid outdoorsman and passionate teacher. Corner Pieces is his second book.

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© 2011 by Anthony Harden. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 05/27/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4634-1361-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4634-1360-6 (dj)

ISBN: 978-1-4634-1359-0 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011908951

Printed in the United States of America

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Prologue

Missy

Chapter 1

Jesse and Lisa

Chapter 2

Running Interference

Chapter 3

Clyde and Maria

Chapter 4

Cheating and Puzzles

Chapter 5

Ride-along

Chapter 6

Icky Worms

Chapter 7

Getting Serious

Chapter 8

Great Evil

Chapter 9

Retreat

Chapter 10

Travesty

Chapter 11

Confession

Chapter 12

Many Questions

Chapter 13

Hunting

Chapter 14

Pieces from the Past

Chapter 15

Jenny

Chapter 16

John Lucas and Samantha Hankins

Chapter 17

DNA and Fingerprints

Chapter 18

David Southerland

Chapter 19

Eavesdropping

Chapter 20

One Final Hike

Chapter 21

Ambush

Chapter 22

Going Home

Chapter 23

Loose Ends

Chapter 24

Hitchhiking

Chapter 25

Final Pieces

Chapter 26

Cabins and Kids

Prologue

Missy

Like a quartet of dirty tornados chasing but never quite catching the tires, billowing swirls of dust rose from the ground and merged into a roiling cloud behind the distinctive game-and-fish green pickup. To either side of the bone dry road, stubbornly clinging to the last few handfuls of crumpled brown leaves, stands of oak skirmished along a ragged front with encroaching pine thickets. Thirty days after the first hard frost, retreating understory granted glimpses of a forest floor not seen for months.

Jesse Hackett couldn’t have been happier. He had spent his childhood hunting and fishing with an extraordinarily longsuffering father and younger brother. Hung in a never-ending loop, memories of innumerable family vacations and camping trips comprised the highlight film of his life. It had been his dream to become a wildlife officer. He looked forward to getting up in the morning and going to work. Other than putting on a uniform, there was little difference in how Jesse spent his days on duty as opposed to his days off.

It was only by chance that he detected motion out of the corner of his eye and several seconds before it fully registered that something seemed out of place. Shifting his foot off the gas and gently onto the brake, with all due respect for the ice-like repertoire of surprises meted out by loose gravel, he hastily looked back over his left shoulder trying to establish some sort of landmark. As the truck finally slid to a stop and then slowly reversed, early morning cobwebs began to clear, along with the dust, and the anticipation of another twenty minutes of peaceful commuting to a remote boat landing was momentarily forgotten.

For a while, it seemed his mind may have been playing tricks. Then, amidst a damp drift of fallen leaves, something did indeed move. As Jesse stepped out of the truck to investigate, that something began to resolve itself into a tan and white Jack Russell Terrier puppy. Shivering noticeably, head down and tail tucked, it warily approached to within several feet and then hesitated.

What’s going on little missy… what are you doing out here all by yourself in the cold? You’re not lost, are you?

That is all it took. Bolstered by a friendly voice and a smile, the pup lunged into Jesse’s arms, shoving her cold wet muzzle inside his coat while eagerly scratching for a foot-hold with muddy paws. Jesse snorted in disgust at his own soft-heartedness as he turned and half tossed the grimy little mutt across the truck cab into the passenger side foot well. Landing lightly on her feet like a cat, she immediately located a warm spot just in front of the floor heater vent and made herself comfortable on a pair of crumpled waders. The rigors of that night were instantly forgotten. Life was now good.

Jesse suspected the pup was local. Although people regularly dumped unwanted cats and dogs all over the county, it was rare for someone to abandon a puppy, even more so a popular breed. There was a mobile home a quarter mile or so back. If the dog wasn’t theirs, perhaps they would know who it belonged to. Already an hour late because of a boat motor that seemed to have sprouted legs and walked away from maintenance, a few more minutes one way or the other was unlikely to make much difference in the grand scheme of things.

It took several cuts back and forth across the road, all the while warily watching for the appearance of oncoming traffic out of the next curve, to turn the truck around. While he was distracted, the puppy hopped up on the seat and poked her entire head into his lunch sack.

Get out of that… that’s not yours. The hungry pup dodged a half-hearted slap and hopped back down to the floor with a mouthful of mayonnaise-slathered lunch meat stripped from a sandwich. OK. I know… you probably didn’t eat last night and I did. But stay out of the cheese puffs. The man smiled and shook his head. The dog grinned and wagged her tail. For a few more minutes, at least, there continued to be peace on Earth.

A little unusual for an hour after sunrise, there was no sign of activity as Jesse pulled up beside a car and truck casually parked on rutted patches of bare ground in front of the trailer. It’s always a good idea to make a little noise approaching an isolated country home. Depending on why someone might have chosen that kind of existence, it was also the safe thing to do. Jesse slammed the truck door, crunched through several mounds of dry leaves and walked heavily up three steps and across a small wood-floored porch, while coughing and clearing his throat, before knocking on the front door. There was no answer. He knocked again, and waited. Not a sound came from inside. No movement, no voices… no angry cursing at being disturbed.

Anyone home? Hey! Game and Fish, Officer Hackett.

Continuing to advertise his presence by tapping on the siding, Jesse started around the near end of the trailer looking for any reasonable explanation that would allow him to break off the impromptu investigation and continue on his way. The presence of a small dog house to one side of the back steps was encouraging. On a hunch, he backtracked to the truck and opened the passenger door. Sure enough, the pup immediately hopped out, scampered around back and began licking at a layer of ice sealing an obviously familiar water dish.

You’ve had breakfast and now you need a drink. Let me help you with that. Jesse fractured the ice with the heel of his boot and tossed the larger chunks aside. Again wagging her tail in appreciation, the little dog lapped water for a full minute. She was home, fed and watered. It crossed his mind once again to just leave her and go.

Continuing past the steps, he peered cautiously through a double window into a now sunlit family room cluttered with evidence of small children. Tightly closed blinds completely filled the next window. A crack in the curtains guarding the last window allowed a glimpse of two adults, a man and a woman, in bed.

Jesse stepped back for a minute to ponder his options a final time. His better judgment again lobbied for retreat… tip toe back to the truck and vamoose as quietly as possible. It was going to look really bad if he ended up being shot as a peeping Tom. But by this point, he felt committed. Ready for the dilemma to be resolved one way or the other, he stepped back up to the window and banged directly on the glass. They didn’t move. He shouted. There was no response. From a distance of no more than four feet, focusing intently on the exposed chest of the man, breathing was not detectable.

Jesse’s hand unconsciously dropped to his service pistol as he briskly continued his circuit around the far end of the trailer and back to the truck. He notified dispatch of the situation. Dispatch rolled every law enforcement and emergency response agency in that sparsely populated part of the world. Within twenty minutes, there was a traffic jam, at least by local standards, on Harris Road eight miles north of the intersection.

Chapter 1

Jesse and Lisa

Hello.

Dr. Elliot Morgan, please.

This is he.

Elliot, this is Ed Newberry, Game and Fish. I hate to bother you at home but we need your help. I believe you’ve met my new partner, Jesse Hackett?

I have. As I recall, Officer Hackett flagged Dr. Sanders and I down in the middle of High Pass Reservoir to ascertain how many fish we had in our live well. He also took advantage of that opportunity to deliver a brief lecture on the benefits of actually wearing our life jackets, as opposed to sitting on them.

You and Bobby Sanders spend more time on the water than I do. What are the odds of not being checked occasionally? Besides that, I understand he let you off with a couple of extra fish.

Ed Newberry had been a wildlife officer for nearly three decades, most of that time in Stafford County. All those years of approaching armed men in remote locations with no witnesses and little hope of timely backup had finely tuned his judgment. He was fair and impartial. He had written citations for personal friends and let complete strangers off with a warning, dependent entirely on the circumstances. Some ten years earlier, an episode with three escaped inmates from Texas had made him a local legend. Two were eventually returned to prison, one to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. The other was repatriated to his home state in a body bag. Close friends and family insisted Ed had never completely recovered from the incident. Casual acquaintances noticed little change.

Ed’s long time partner had retired the year before. Ed had taken an immediate liking to the young man assigned as his replacement. The feeling was apparently mutual. Officer Jesse Hackett, aka the new kid, seemed to think a lot of Ed.

That was an honest mistake… he checked us in the middle of the best fishing we’ve had all year, Elliot protested. You know very well that Bobby and I are law abiding citizens.

Yeah, I’ve heard that about a thousand times

What can I do for you? Is Jesse OK?

Elliot was becoming increasingly wary. Despite the otherwise light hearted banter, Ed’s voice had remained uncharacteristically somber throughout the exchange. A law officer seldom calls a pathologist early on a Saturday morning because something good happened.

As well as can be expected, I guess. Sheriff Drank asked me to give you a call. Jesse discovered four bodies in a mobile home on Harris Road about half way to Ford’s Landing. A couple of them are kids. It appears to be carbon monoxide poisoning.

Does the State Medical Examiner want me to do the autopsies? I haven’t heard a word from them.

Yes. The state would like to avoid sending a crime scene unit all the way over here if it isn’t necessary. And I don’t believe that it is. This looks straight forward. But it would make all of us, our newly elected county coroner in particular, feel better if you would come out for a few minutes and take a look around before we move anything. Unless you see a problem, the bodies will be sent to the hospital morgue and the Sheriff’s Department will handle the investigation.

I’ll be there in thirty minutes. I’m on baby detail this morning. Just so you know, Rachel’s not going to be happy about this.

Elliot… whatever you do… don’t tell Rachel I’m the one that called you out. No offense, but I’d rather deal with a rabid skunk in my truck.

I’m on my way, Ed. And none taken.

Elliot Morgan had practiced pathology at Stafford County Hospital for five years. During that time, he had met and married Rachel Anderson. Ed had been a close friend of Rachel’s parents and watched her grow up. He was not entirely joking about his desire to remain anonymous.

With the understanding that his involvement be limited to the occasional garden variety low profile case, Elliot had faithfully served as an assistant medical examiner since first arriving in town. The inherent problem with that arrangement had been the difficulty, prior to actually performing the autopsy, of weeding out the occasional case that would subsequently prove to be neither garden variety nor low profile. Those adventures aside, he was happy to help out. Hannah needed a diaper change anyway. He made the handoff to Rachel and scooted out the front door before she could say anything.

Two dozen people were milling around in the front yard by the time Elliot arrived. Second on the scene after Jesse, a rookie deputy sheriff had jimmied the front door and briefly checked for any sign of life. He raised most of the windows and opened the back door before exiting. Shortly thereafter, a volunteer fireman and two EMT’s had momentarily entered the premises to confirm the deputy’s assessment. Those minor intrusions aside, the scene had been preserved.

Reminiscent of Ed’s situation, Elliot had also recently lost a senior partner to retirement and gained a youthful new associate fresh out of residency training. Elliot noticed Lisa walking his direction as he got out of his pickup.

What are you doing here, Lisa?

They called the hospital looking for you and I happened to be there. By the way, I did not tell them to call you at home… they did that on their own.

It wouldn’t matter if you had, Elliot raised his voice and panned the crowd with a hang-dog expression as he continued, everyone here has my number and they’re not afraid to use it.

Lisa smiled. Nothing was going on so I thought I would come out and try to help. If I can’t help, maybe I can learn.

Excellent. We need to send your credentials to the State Medical Examiner and have you added to the list anyway. Remind me to do that next week. Lisa acted like she didn’t understand. Elliot had been picking at her about becoming an assistant medical examiner since her first week on the job. He knew full well she was in no hurry to assume that responsibility. From what I’ve been told, I don’t think we’re going to be out here very long. It’ll be a different story when we get back to the morgue with four bodies. I appreciate your help.

Lisa had joined Elliot’s pathology practice about a year before. Very intelligent and well trained, she was shaping up to be an excellent partner. Elliot began introducing Lisa as they made their way through the tightening knot of people gathered around the front steps.

Lisa, this is Jesse Hackett, Ed Newberry’s partner. Elliot addressed himself first to Lisa and then to Jesse. Jesse, Ed tells me you happened on to this.

Yes sir, literally. This was the closest residence to a lost puppy I picked up along the side of the road. I thought it might belong here.

You’re a game warden? Lisa spoke up, more as a statement than a question.

Yes ma’am. We are officially called wildlife officers now-a-days but basically, I’m a game warden.

He makes people empty their live well and count fish, Elliot playfully jabbed.

You were over the limit, doctor, Jesse volleyed back, without missing a beat.

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All idle conversation ceased as Elliot entered the front door. Representatives of the various agencies filtered in behind to observe.

Hankins family. Sherriff Danny Drank was standing just inside and fell in line right behind Elliot and Lisa. He had been re-elected thirteen times in a row, without a challenger the last eight times. Other than a brief stint as a police officer in Tennessee, it had been the only job he ever had. Local connections helped secure the position initially. Impeccable service coupled with an unusually astute political savvy had yielded the longevity in office. He was a quintessential man of few words. Clarence twenty-six, Shelly twenty-four, Stephen four and Suzanne ten months. Nothing suspicious to this point. No prior run-ins with the law. No known conflicts.

Two space heaters, one in either end of the trailer, were depleted of fuel. Two children were in one bedroom, two adults in the other. Lacking the usual pallor of death, all appeared peacefully asleep. It seemed that any second they might wake up. Everyone could have a good laugh and go home.

It was one thing to encounter bodies in the sterile atmosphere of a morgue. Being stripped and placed on a stainless steel table, like any other specimen, lent a degree of detachment. In a paradox difficult to explain, autopsies had a way of being very intimate yet impersonal. Scene work was different. Bodies surrounded by the everyday accoutrements of life clung to a certain inalienable humanity that could not be ignored.

A woman lay in her own bed, gowned and snugly under the covers. A half-read book carefully placed face down on her nightstand suggested the preceding evening had ended peacefully. The lamp was off, the cap on a bottle of hand lotion slightly askew. A small clock faithfully reported an accurate time of 10:35 AM.

Wearing only briefs, a man lay atop the covers beside her. That, and the trail of clothes scattered in disarray across his side of the room, seemed perfectly normal to every man present. The house had been too warm for him, but nobody can win that argument with a woman. Particularly a woman armed with children.

A mobile of colorful butterflies bobbed over the baby’s bassinet. And big-brother’s toys were everywhere, filling the children’s room and spilling into the hallway.

The trailer was clean… she had been a good housekeeper. There was absolutely no evidence of foul play. There was no reason to doubt the deaths were accidental.

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As Lisa stepped out the front door, she was momentarily blinded by sunlight streaming through the tree tops. It should have been dark with freezing drizzle. It just didn’t seem appropriate that such a mind-numbing