Murder on the Cap Rock: Sandra Lerner Mystery

By George Barclay Jr.

Dentist receptionist brutally murdered. Dentist charged with capital crime. Sandra Lerner flies out west during snow storm, and case goes to trial.

Rural West Texas color and humor. No other place like it on earth. A quick read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jan 29, 2001
• ISBN: 9781469707693

George Barclay Jr.

Dr. Barclay is a retired cardiologist, who lives with wife Chloeteele on a farm near Woodville, Texas. Prior to thirty years of medical practice, he worked as oilfield roustabout, chemical engineer, and active duty soldier.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

10 P.M. Friday, October 7,1988.

Josh Kern, Field Superintendent of WesTex Oil, put down the phone and turned to his wife, Rita, who was watching T.V.

That was Bubba Ray. They’ve struck cap rock on Wildcat Number Two out on Miller’s ranch. They are coming out of the hole to change bits. I’m going out there, and I probably won’t be back until 2 A.M., he said, as he headed for the door leading to the double garage containing their two cars.

Rita continued to watch T.V. and did not follow. Josh quickly unlocked the trunk of Rita’s car. He then got into his company car, backed out, and drove rapidly toward U.S. 380. He turned left on U.S. 380, drove one quarter mile and then turned left on the shell road leading back to the Superintendent’s Office and WesTex warehouse. He pulled into the work garage and pulled down the door, concealing his car. He then quickly walked through a little mesquite grove to his back yard. He walked through his back yard, into the garage, and got into the trunk of Rita’s car. He held down the cover, and allowed just a crack where he could see and breathe.

A few minutes later Rita got into her car and backed it out quickly. She sped toward U.S. 380. She turned east on U.S. 380 and drove one mile to where it intersected Salt Fork Road to the North and Double Mountain Road to the South. She turned North on Salt Fork Road. She quickly ran out of hardtop and then sped over shell road for one mile. She turned right on yet a smaller shell road and drove about four hundred yards to a spot bordered on each side by mesquite trees. She pulled over to the side, turned off the lights, killed the motor, and left the keys in the ignition.

Josh opened up the trunk a crack and noticed another car following. The driver had turned off his headlights, but as he passed Josh recognized the Sheriff’s official car and Jehue Tate smoking a cigar. Jehue pulled up about thirty feet in front of Rita and stopped. Rita got out of her car and joined Jehue in the back seat of his. She left her car door ajar and her keys in the ignition.

After five minutes, Josh quickly and quietly got out of the trunk. He slipped into the driver’s seat of Rita’s car. He turned on the headlights. He started the motor. He then looked up and saw a brilliant exposure of Rita’s feet locked around Jehue’s back. Jehue was working masterfully with only his naked back, shoulders, and head exposed. Jehue stopped and looked directly into the lights. Rita’s feet disappeared and she, too, sat up and looked into the lights.

Josh gunned the motor, performed a U-turn crossing over into a shallow ditch and drove Rita’s car back in the direction it had come. He parked her car in their garage. He turned off the motor and left the keys in the ignition. He then closed the trunk. He walked back through the mesquite grove. He got into his company car and drove back to U.S. 380. He then drove out to Miller’s Wildcat Number Two. It was 10:45 P.M.

CHAPTER 2

10 P.M. Friday, October 7, 1988.

Dr. Ronald Street was sitting in the den watching T.V. with his wife, Loretta. The movie had ended, and the 10 o’clock news came on. Loretta looked over at Ron and started for the shower. She turned on the shower, undressed and stepped in.

The telephone rang. Dr. Street answered. He thought he could recognize Jethro Miller, the rancher. Jethro had a toothache and couldn’t talk plain. He agreed to meet Mr. Miller at the office in twenty or thirty minutes and pull the tooth. He sat back down and watched the news. The shower was still running when he left for the office.

He drove his Bronco up to his little Dentist’s Office and got out. The street was deserted, except for the Deputy’s car sitting in front of the Sheriff’s Office about a quarter mile away. He opened the door and went in, flipping on the lights as he walked toward his dental cubicles. He came back and sat down in his waiting room. He picked up Field and Stream and read. He dozed off to sleep. When he woke up it was 11:40 P.M. Mr. Miller had not come. He went to his records and got Mr. Miller’s home phone number off the chart. He dialed the number. A lady’s voice answered.

Hello, said Mrs. Miller.

Mrs. Miller, this is Dr. Ron Street. Your husband called me around 10 o’clock and was to meet me here to see about his toothache. He hasn’t shown up yet, said Ron loudly, since many of his patients were hard of hearing.

Doc, somebody must have played a prank on you, replied Mrs. Miller, just as loud. Jethro went to Seminole to watch the Coyotes play the Javelinas. He won’t be back until one or two in the morning.

Thank you, Mrs. Miller, said Ron, as he put down the phone. He turned off the lights, locked the door, got in his Bronco and drove straight home. When he crawled in bed with Loretta it was 11:50 P.M.

CHAPTER 3

Saturday night, October 8,1988—11 P.M.

Brister Wadkins, Deputy, is sitting at Sheriff’s desk on evening shift. The phone rings and he answers.

Sheriff’s Office—Brister speaking.

Brister, this is Marjorie Atkins. I am at the public phone down by the drug store. I’ve got to talk to the Sheriff. Where’s Jehue? She sounded excited and scared.

Now Marjorie, Jehue’s out at the Private Club keeping the peace. You’ll just have to talk with me. What is the matter?

It’s a dead woman—out by the old road up to Barnes’ ranch. You know the dirt road. Nobody goes out there anymore. We didn’t touch a thing. She’s still out there. My boyfriend turned down that old road and all these buzzards flew out of them mesquite trees. Lord! It like to scared us to death. Then we saw the body about ten or twenty feet off the road. We kept the lights on and my boyfriend got out to look. He didn’t touch nothing. I went over and I looked, too. We just had the headlights of the car. My boyfriend nudged her with his foot and she was stiff and cold. Deader than hell. Just laying there with her eyes wide open, her body swollen and fully clothed. We jumped in our car and got out of there. My boyfriend let me out here at the drug store and went home. I’m going home, too, as soon as I get off this phone.

Don’t leave Marjorie, we got to have you as witness. Who was with you, anybody I know? asked Brister. He was nervous, too.

Now Brister, I was out with Buford Brown, and if my parents find out they will kill me. You can’t tell who told you, and you don’t need us for no witnesses. I’ve told you all you need to know. You just call up Jehue and report. He will know what to do. We elected Jehue to keep the peace around here. You just do your job, or I’ll let it be known that I saw you steal the spare off of Jake Austin’s pickup, and Jehue’s cheating on his wife with Rita Kern.

All right, all right. Marjorie, you go on home and I won’t tell anybody. You keep quiet, too, you hear, and that boyfriend of yours better not tell anybody, either—you hear?

Don’t worry, Brister. He ain’t brave no more. Seeing that dead woman laying cold out there done turned him white. She giggled as she put down the phone.

Brister wondered if Marjorie was playing a joke on him. Smart ass kid, cheerleader, and all. Maybe somebody put her up to it. Out with the high school football star. Buford was a big buck, but not as big as Jehue Tate, the biggest and meanest buck in Caswell County.

Brister dialed the number, and his favorite barmaid answered. There was noise and music in the background and she yelled over the phone, Private Club! Who you want?

Lottie, this is Brister. I’ve got to talk to Jehue right now.

The noise got louder as she put down the phone. In a few minutes a loud, stern voice came on.

This is Jehue, Brister, what you calling me for? I’m out here keeping the peace. Jehue was yelling into the phone trying to be heard over the western band and the patrons whooping it up.

"Jehue, we got a complaint. Anonymous phone call—dead woman’s body out by the old Barnes’ place where Salt Fork Road ends. Stiff and the buzzards have beat us there. It may be a high school prank, but

you’d better go out there and see just the same. I’ll stay here and handle the office like you hired me to."

A few seconds passed before Jehue answered. He was having a good time keeping the peace, and didn’t want to be disturbed by a kid’s Saturday night prank.

Brister, you’d better not be putting me on. We haven’t had no body turn up in this county in ten years. Look, I can’t keep yelling over this phone. Call up old Judge Owens, and tell him I’ll pick him up in ten minutes. Now, you keep your radio receiver on, and, if there really is a body, I’ll radio in and tell you what to do, yelled Jehue above the Saturday night revelry.

CHAPTER 4

Jehue and old Judge Owens, the Justice of the Peace of Caswell County, turned off the shelled road on to the dirt road which led up to the old Barnes’ ranch, now deserted. It was little used and was lined on each side by mesquite and cactus. About every twenty five yards they saw a jack rabbit hopping off into the mesquite thicket. Jehue slowed down, and they were startled by a loud flapping noise, as a flock of buzzards took off into the dark sky. He turned his spotlight and located a form up ahead that looked like a body about twenty feet off the road. Jehue turned the car toward the body and left the headlights on. About six buzzards, roosting close by, deserted the corpse when the two men got out of the car and started toward them with flashlights.

By God, it’s a body all right, whistled Jehue, realizing that he was really Sheriff and was supposed to know.

Don’t touch nothing, Jehue, said Judge Owens. Let’s take our time and look every thing over real good, before we think about moving that corpse. They shined their lights on the face. Who do you reckon it is?

Jehue was slow to answer. It’s hard to tell, she’s turned blue out here and her face is swollen from death. Rigor mortis has set in. I don’t see no bullet holes or nothing. Somebody drug her out here and left her. There ain’t no blood or bruises. There’s her wallet, her cigarette case and lighter, and some keys—they look like car keys.

All right, Jehue, said Judge Owens. Why don’t you confiscate the articles and save them in a plastic bag. You know, for exhibits. Go ahead and open up her wallet and make a note of the contents. See if there is any identification in the wallet.

Jehue very carefully picked up the wallet and, while Judge Owens held the light, thumbed through the contents.

Man, there’s a lot of cash in here—$600 or better and here’s her Drivers License. Hold the light so I can make out the name. Jehue pauses for a moment and holds the Drivers License close to the light.

It says: Jordan, Lisa Ann, 605 W. 5th Street, Holmes, Texas; Birth date 6-01-58, Blue eyes, Female, 5’4. Why that’s Bubba Ray Jordan’s wife. She works as receptionist for old Doc Street, the dentist. Man, we’ve got a murder mystery on our hands. She’s only thirty years old. I saw her just yesterday morning over at Watson’s Drug Store and she looked healthy then. Somebody drug her out here last night."

Jehue started to touch the body, but Judge Owens stopped him. Don’t touch that body, Jehue. We are going to get a postmortem examination and have a forensic pathologist go over her. I haven’t been Justice of Peace all these years for nothing. You sack up all them loose belongings, and don’t touch nothing. We’ll want to check for fingerprints. What’s that funny looking blue key on that key ring there?

"That’s one of them keys you have copied—you know, they have one of them machines down at the drug store where you can make copies. There’s four keys on that ring. Two