Murder, He Figured

By Dr. Bill Smith

Raynor Crimmons expected to be on the gratis, leisure helicopter ride as it ascended into the air. Instead, he is watching from the ground as he watches it climb higher, then, suddenly malfunction, and plunge to the ground in a fireball. Was it an accident or was it murder? Who was on board in place of him? Raynor investigates as he continues to visit his country music business financial planning clients in this small lake-side Ozarks Mountains community. Then, he discovers another dead body. This one was not an accident. Murder, He Figured.
Raynor uses his best rational reasoning skills to attempt to calm his clients as they realize the murderer is very likely one of them. He learns much more about his clients, their families and friends, than he every expected on what was supposed to be a mundane, vacation-like visit.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781312919679

Book preview

Murder, He Figured

Murder, He Figured: A Raynor Crimmons Mystery - A part of The Homeplace Saga

William Leverne Smith aka Dr. Bill

Murder, He Figured: A Raynor Crimmons Mystery - A part of The Homeplace Saga

Copyright 2015 William Leverne Smith aka Dr. Bill

ISBN #: 978-1-312-91967-9

The cover image was created by Annette Lamb, and used with permission

Preface

This ebook is a compilation of 24 episodes initially published at:

http://drbillsmithwriter.hubpages.com/. The content has been edited to fit this format.

This Raymor Crimmons Mystery, written in first person by him, is a part of the larger works by the author known, collectively, as The Homeplace Saga series of family saga, historical fiction stories, based at:

http://thehomeplaceseries.blogspot.com/

Raynor Crimmons is a character in The Homeplace Saga, introduced to the series in the novel, Christmas at the Homeplace. He was introduced there as a long-time friend and work colleague of the late Jason Winslow, and his wife, Karen (Bevins) Winslow. The Bevins family was the primary family in the ongoing stories in 1996, the time frame of the novel.

You can also visit William Leverne Smith on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/pages/William-Leverne-Smith/100836503289407

and also see The Homeplace Chronicles for occasional updates at:

https://www.facebook.com/HomeplaceSaga

Raynor arrived in Weatheford in 1989

Raynor Crimmons’ Weatherford client visit scheduled for May 1989

My name is Raynor Crimmons. Here is my tentative schedule for the week in Weatherford, MO. Things usually change, but this is the plan I will start from:

Sunday afternoon

Arrive at Braddock's

See Wilmot

Look for woodcarvers

Evening show-Braddock's

Monday

10 am First meeting with Hanes at Orange Blossom

afternoon Rehearsal at Braddock's theater

nite Attend another show - Ozark Jubilee (2)

Tuesday

11 am First meeting with Braddock's

2 pm First meeting with Wilmot

[added drive to Stafford Cave]

nite Attend another show - Country Hoedown (3)

Wednesday

am Visit Heritage Village

Noon Meeting of Weatherford Tourism Commission on cruise boat on lake

[added 2 pm with Wilmots]

3 pm Second meeting - Hanes at Orange Blossom

nite open? Attend a fourth show, undetermined

Thursday

10 am Second meeting with Braddock's

Noon Kiwanis meeting at Orange Blossom

2 pm Second [became third] meeting with Wilmot

[added 4 pm Picnic at West Point State Park- on lake]

Friday

am Stafford Cave [done earlier]

[Cancelled rest of day as well]

Saturday

all day open

Sunday

10:15 am Flight out of Springfield

*****

But, to make a better story, let’s start with an unexpected opportunity to take a helicopter ride over the lake and town on early Tuesday morning...

With a 'thumbs up' sign from pilot Mike Redding, the yellow and blue helicopter rose from it's four foot high raised pad sitting about 50 feet beyond the retaining wall (actually a stretch of snow fence!) where I stood. Debris scattered as the odor of aviation fuel fouled the fresh, early morning, Ozark Mountain air.

I had expected to be a passenger on that first Tuesday morning flight, but had agreed to wait thirty minutes so some VIP's could take a short tour. Why does ‘VIP’ always refer to someone else, I wondered? Having arrived in a white Eldorado Cadillac, the three men in business suits had walked directly to the raised helicopter pad and climbed aboard the chopper. Mike hadn’t wasted a minute getting airborne.

I watched the chopper rise in a swooping semi-circle. It cleared the giant oaks surrounding the clearing by a good forty feet. The pad sat on a ridge giving way toward the south to a green expanse of oak trees sloping down the valley, toward Lake Weatherford. The green of the trees and the blue of the lake extended south across the Missouri border into Arkansas. During the peak summer season, one of these tour birds ascended every fifteen minutes like clockwork.

And then it happened...

Several hundred yards away now, the 'thump, thump, thump' of the rotor blades carrying the bird toward Weatherford Dam still filled my ears. There was a chill in the air. I buttoned another snap on my windbreaker. A loud, metallic bing! interrupted the 'thump, thump, thump' rhythm. I looked up to see the helicopter begin to rotate and lose altitude. Moments later, as we watched in horror, a fireball and smoke quickly rose from the forest at the edge of Lake Weatherford.

How had I not been on that copter? Since mine was to be a free ride, it was easy to be gracious, I suppose. My late wife, Rachel, mentioned a helicopter ride here sixteen times, if she mentioned it once. Each time we visited the Ozarks, I found an excuse not to take her. Why had I said 'yes' this time? The word 'free' probably had something to do with it. I was supposed to have been on that chopper that just crashed, violently into the woods. Why was I still alive, standing here?

*****

Mike Redding, the lead guitarist at the show, had offered the ride that Monday afternoon while I was visiting rehearsal of the country music show where he played. The Braddocks, who owned the show and the theater where they performed, had been consulting clients of mine for years.

When Mike told me he was also a daytime pilot, he added that everyone should experience the beauty of this countryside from the air at least once. He then suggested that if I'd come out early, we could take a tour of the area before the paying customers started to arrive. Being mid-May, tourists weren't too thick yet.

Walt Wilmot, a young reporter with the local paper, had also accepted a gratis ride with Mike. We waited together. Walt's father, Wilbur, was another client I had on my schedule to visit this trip. I had talked to Wilbur briefly Sunday night. He said his son was back in town to stay. Walt and I were renewing our brief, earlier acquaintance from his high school graduation, ten years earlier.

Yes, I was in the same class in high school with Jan Braddock.

Rachel and I were down from Springfield for graduation night.

I remember meeting you that night. Dad speaks highly of the work you've done for him. His eyes were also on the chopper as it continued its ascent.

I remember how proud he was of you, Walt. His son, valedictorian of his class, off to the University of Missouri journalism school.

Mike had been apologetic about asking us to wait thirty minutes. But he made me feel good about it. He was smooth. I could tell Mike enjoyed flying. He said the two things he loved most, after his wife, of course, were flying helicopters by day and playing guitar by night.

Back to Raynor’s arrival in Weatherford on Sunday

I had flown into Springfield on Sunday and rented a car. The rental agency gave me a grey Taurus to drive the hour and a half to Weatherford. This was my annual vacation/business trip to the Ozarks. For several years, before moving to Arizona, I had been a financial planner in Springfield. Several of my clients had wanted me to continue to work with them on an annual review basis. Since it gave me an excuse to visit one of my favorite places in the world, at least once each year, I had accepted the engagements. Even the winding drive through the woods from Springfield to Weatherford was a joy.

For this trip, I had scheduled meetings with three clients in Weatherford. I met with the Braddock family each year. They would be first. Ed and Judy Hanes were new as clients, but I had known Ed for years. The third was Wilbur Wilmot. His was not an 'every year' review, but he had asked that I be sure to stop this year.

Raynor met the Braddock family on arrival

Raynor Crimmons’ May 1989 first visit in Weatherford was to the Braddock family

I had arrived in Weatherford on Sunday afternoon, May 14, 1989, Mother’s Day. Although Pa and Mabel Braddock invited me to stay with them on my annual visits, this time I decided I wanted to stay at the Sundowner Motel in town. More privacy had become important to me with each passing year, it seemed. The Braddocks owned and operated the Braddock Mountain Music Show located across a parking lot from The Sundowner. Their theater was one of several country music and comedy shows operating in the little tourist town. Weatherford was well known for the Heritage Village theme park, for the Stafford Cave, and as the home of a growing number of family-oriented country music and comedy shows. Not yet a real competitor to Branson, off to the west, but doing just fine, it seemed.

I checked into the motel first, then drove north on Maple Avenue, toward the Braddock residence. Since they are involved with the show every night except Monday, mid-afternoons are the best time to see them at home. It was three-thirty when I approached the sprawling, ranch-style house. A hundred yards of well-maintained lawn separated the house from the road. Several large oak trees spread ample shade across the lawn and the house.

The Braddocks purchased these 120 acres on the edge of town, mostly wooded, shortly after the business started showing a profit eleven years ago. The frontage portion was privately subdivided for four home sites, though only two homes had been built so far. Pa and Mabel built their dream home on the west end of the property almost immediately after the purchase. Biff, their oldest son, and his wife, Mary, were building their home about nine years