Calder Road: The Carin Trimble Mysteries, #1

By R C Ducantlin

 

Carin Trimble is no stranger to the dark underbelly of her adopted town. Marble Grove is a place determined to keep its secrets hidden. Still, managing to unwrap more of its twisted history, she uncovers another dreadful web of deceit.

The new detective may finally have the key to solving the crimes. Under the threats and intimidation, Carin refuses to back down. Just when she thinks she's hit a dead end, Todd Davison enters her world.

What is the cost of learning the truth? As she struggles with her inner demons, will Todd be able to handle the night terrors?

• Language: English
• Publisher: R C Ducantlin, Ltd.
• Release date: Mar 10, 2024
• ISBN: 9781949211863

R C Ducantlin

Fortunately, in secondary school, my interest in reading was sparked. A close friend and an instructor, who took interest in a boy he later called ‘The rebel without a clue.,’ were instrumental in my learning the value of a good book. Both piqued my interest in reading. My lifelong friend inspired me to read J.R.R. Tolkien and I became addicted to the fantasy genre. The instructor required I read interesting historical novels for academic credit. Frank Norris, Leon Uris, and Ken Follett are inspirations and fuel my love of history. Born to a military family, it was logical that I follow the military tradition. However, after four years of “yes sirs” and scraping the wax off floors I decided there must be more fun in a corporate career. Thirty plus years of work experiences across the globe, the corporate career landed me in Colorado, where I live with my wife and I can be close to my children and grandchildren.

Book preview

Prologue

The Nursing Home Murders were not committed by your average serial killer. Unlike ninety percent of the profiles used in crime dramas, the killer was not a middle-aged white male that the neighbors thought was such a nice man.

Carin Trimble surprised everyone, including herself, by solving her first big case. Years of training and a couple of months on the job did not suppress the awe she felt when the killer confessed. Cracking the serial killer investigation led to inquiries about Carin’s interest in detective positions available in larger police forces. The inexperienced detective knew the publicity from The Nursing Home Murders case would be her ticket out of Marble Grove. The goal was to leave the small town in middle America for the big leagues of detective circles. Working for the Feds is every new detective’s dream.

Thirty-four and unmarried, the five-eight brunette had resigned herself to the idea that she would live alone. Her two-bedroom bungalow was a good investment in the small town of Marble Grove, Minnesota. Then she met Mari. Moving along to a better job, in a bigger city, is going to have to wait. With a similar background to Carin, a former Marine military police sergeant, Mari was an Army corpsman in a prior life. Now, Mari is the lead EMT for Marble Grove and Hemingway County. The two naturally bonded.

Carin’s regular stress release is the martial arts training she hones two or three times a week. She loves the confidence of having combat skills in her tool kit. The instructor enforced a sabbatical from sparring for several weeks because Carin was hitting too many students. The end of her time out coincided with Carin’s new outlook and willingness to make amends. After apologizing to the class and promising not to hit anyone else, the detective was allowed to return to the dojo. Carin loves working out.

The only thing Carin doesn’t like about her new life is playing go-between/matchmaker for Al and his girlfriend, Laura. With his doting mother in prison and an emotionally clueless father, Al needs friends. Al and Laura are both diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder or ASD. Both are brilliant and lovely people. Al manages his quirks well, and Laura’s mutism is nothing more than a minor annoyance. How Carin ended up as Al and Laura’s touchstone for their relationship is shocking — keeping a relationship together is not Carin’s strong suit. How can a woman who can’t maintain a relationship for more than a few months be the voice of reason for another couple’s relationship?

Maybe Mari will be different. Maybe helping Al and Laura will make her aware of why her relationships don’t last.

Carin enjoys her evening walks with Al and his dog. The new dog, a whip-smart Basenji, loves walking, and her friend loves caring for the dog. It was Al who put her onto the idea there was a serial killer in Hemingway County.

Mostly, above everything, the new detective is happy Al is still her friend. The detective would understand if Al didn’t want to be friends with the person who got his mother, Deena Demchuk, to confess to the murders. John Demchuk, Al’s father, could not be happier with how things played out. Without his mother’s constant attention and her annoying insistence on presenting a perfect life to the neighbors, Al is flourishing. Not having his mother scrutinize his every move has given Al the confidence to live a full life that includes Laura and Snot, the whip-smart Basenji.

One

It’s a lovely August evening, not too hot, just coming on to dusk, and Carin is walking with Al and the dog he named Snot. Walking after work means running into neighbors out for a stroll, and the detective is glad random people have stopped congratulating her on the case. Carin and Al regularly see Louie and Kelvin Mancone walking their border collie, Booger. True to his humorist nature, Al liked that Louie named her dog Booger and chose Snot for his Basenji. The doting dog owner insists the walks begin after the shade has covered the sidewalks to protect the dog’s feet from the sidewalk heat. The early evening hour works well for the detective, who often spends extended hours at the office.

Up the block, eyeing Carin walking with Al, Louie, and Kelvin cross the street. From the other side of the road, the couple can politely say hi but not feel obliged to stop and converse with the detective. Louie is bitter — she holds a grudge for being high on Carin’s list of suspects.

Interrupting Al’s efforts to teach Snot to heel, Carin wants to know how her friend is coping with his mother’s approaching move from county holding to the state women’s prison. Dena Demchuk’s feeble attempt to appeal for a reversal of her confession only delayed her incarceration date. Carin had collected rock-solid evidence to prove Deena committed the murders. Recanting the confession resulted in a short trial and a quick guilty verdict from the jury.

Your mother will go to prison in a few days. Deputies will take her from the county jail to the state prison. How are you doing with your mom moving to a facility across the state?

Al’s response is classic for the man who manages his ASD well. Short. Direct. Accurate. His difficulties are easily seen when he is nervous or commenting on something he does not want to discuss.

Minnesota Correctional Facility in Shakopee.

From the phrasing, Carin infers her friend has researched online where his mother will spend the rest of her life. The Minnesota Correctional Facility for Women, in Shakopee, is a drive of several hours from Marble Grove.

You looked it up. That is good.

I found it on-the-line. Al dotes on Snot, always looking for burrs and thorns that may harm the dog’s feet.

Shakopee is a few hours. It’s not too far. You can drive it if you want to visit your mother. I can help you arrange permission for visitation.

Tomorrow, will you have lunch with Laura?

Carin recognizes Al’s habit of diverting from uncomfortable topics. Being the person who figured out your mother is a serial killer must be difficult, especially if you have autism. Reporting what he knew to the new detective was a massive struggle for the kind man that is Marcus Alvin Demchuk. Thirty-one, stocky, balding, the hand and facial quirks mask a bright mind and a lively personality. Al Demchuk loves life.

Yes. Did Laura tell you she and I are having lunch tomorrow?

Yes.

Al, why are you asking about tomorrow?

Look, there. It’s a Cooper’s hawk.

Where?

There, look over the houses.

It’s so far away. Al, how can you tell in this light?

It’s too big to be a Sharp-Shinned Hawk. Tomorrow, will you have lunch with Laura?

Yes, I will have lunch with Laura tomorrow. Al, you’re not focused. What is bugging you?

Snot.

Snot is bugging you?

Laura.

Al, I know you’re worried about something. When you’re worried or nervous, you stop using your words. Use your words. Tell me what is troubling you.

Stopping and letting Snot sniff a hydrangea bush, Carin watches Al scrutinize his dog. Carin is used to her unofficial partner speaking and not looking at her. This time feels different.

Laura doesn’t like Snot.

Carin has a mild revelation of concern — her friend thinks the pleasant Laura doesn’t like dogs.

Laura doesn’t like dogs? Carin's tone asks for more from Al. She is unsure if he catches the inference.

No.

Are you sure? Partner, Laura is kind and smart. Are you sure she doesn’t like dogs?

Yes. Maybe.

Snot decides to move along. Crossing at the corner, the trio turns for home.

Al, please use your words. Tell me what Laura said about Snot.

Dogs bite.

Some dogs bite. Not Snot. Has Snot bitten anyone?

No. Tell Laura.

At lunch tomorrow, you want me to tell Laura Snot is not a biter?

Yes.

I can do that. What else?

Laura can come over if she wants to.

You want Laura to visit you at home? Al, that is a big step in a relationship.

1901-A South Marble Quarry Circle.

You want Laura to visit you in your apartment?

Yes.

You’re both adults. Are you planning dinner or something?

Dinner and a movie.

Are you going to cook?

I will order on-the-line.

You’re having dinner delivered — from online. Do you know what Laura likes to eat?

No.

I see you have been thinking about a date with Laura. I will ask her about her favorite foods and let her know Snot doesn’t bite. Here we are. See you tomorrow?

Okay.

Carin heads to her car and the short drive to her bungalow, wondering if Mari will be there when she gets home. Mari’s visits, three times a week, have begun to lessen. A couple of nights a week feels like a clue to the detective, like an inkling to the beginning of the end of their relationship. Falling back on the lessons she learned in counseling, Carin pushes aside the fear and focuses on the positive — Mari is a beautiful person, and Carin is happy to have her in her life.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Arriving home from walking Booger, Kel knows his wife is agitated. Usually meticulous, Louie didn’t hang her light jacket in the coat closet. She threw it over the sofa back. Dropping the keys in the bowl and hanging Booger’s leash next to the door, Kel waits for Louie to breathe and comment.

She’s always with that boy.

Al is not a boy. He is a man, and you know it. What is wrong?

That detective ruined Sharon’s pain trial.

I don’t think Detective Trimble ruined Dr. Green’s pain trial. The experiment was almost complete, and the results were not good. You know that, too. Lauren, enough. You have been in a funk since the interviews with hospital security. What happened?

The funding stopped — all of it. Sharon is shutting down the pain trial. She told me the administration suggested she might be happier working somewhere else. I think they know she took the pericardial needles. If Sharon leaves, I have to find a new doctor in the hospital to sponsor me or find a sponsor somewhere else. Which means we’ll have to leave Marble Grove. I like working here — I don’t want to leave.

You can find work anywhere. I can work from anywhere. Where you go, I go. Lou, what do you want to do?

That’s just it. I don’t know. Louie ends the sentence with a flop on the bed. Kel refuses to let his wife remain in a funk.

I can tell you what I know to be true from the day I met you. Whatever you decide is okay with me. And, Lou, we are not crossing the street when we see the detective with Al. I like Al, and he adores Booger. Booger and Snot get along. We need to be nice to our neighbors.

You’re right. It’s not Al’s fault his mother lost her mind. How long do you think Al knew about the murders?

Long enough. What does it matter? Nothing was going to happen until Carin Trimble accepted the detective position. They say she grew up on a farm in Texas. She moved here because MGPD was the only job she could find. Maybe it’s a good thing she is here — she doesn’t have the baggage like everyone else who has lived their entire life in this county.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Solving the big case didn’t alter Carin’s routine. Five days a week, she goes from home to work, arriving before seven, and spends hours at her desk under the monotony of researching old case files. Turning down the Feds was a hard decision. The BCA, the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension, sniffed around. Carin declined to pursue the option. Something in the back of her mind keeps telling her to stay and help Marble Grove grow again.

Lunch two or three days a week at the cafe. A couple of hours at the dojo several times a week and every third Saturday. As they say in the Marines, Carin likes her life high and tight. Disappointed Mari was not here when she got home last night, Carin decided on an early morning in the office. This morning’s preservative-riddled breakfast meal was zapped, and she was out the door before six.

Something has bugged Carin from the onset of the Nursing Home Murders investigation. Why were so many people, all nearly the same age, afflicted with horrendous cancers? Looking into the victims’ backgrounds, one pair stands out — the LeClare twins. Carin finds anomalies and inconsistencies in their background. More than a few arrests were tossed out at the district court level. Why?

Remembering her conversations with Mari and Officer Zumbro, the policeman’s grandmother is one person who has the history of Marble Grove’s underbelly in her head. Convinced there is more information than the files provide, Carin decides to seek help from Emmaline Zumbro.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Emmaline’s bungalow is two blocks up and two over Marg Lyttle’s bungalow, toward the grain silos next to the railroad tracks. Threadbare in every aspect, including Emmaline, the peeling paint, and the brown splotchy lawn grate at Carin’s vision of how to live one’s life. Paint is cheap, and what’s wrong with watering the lawn a couple of times before it dies? Also, walking the cracked sidewalk between the weeds toward the tiny porch, Carin ponders a thought that pops into her head. After reading too many arrest and court reports, something won’t leave the detective’s mind.

"Emmaline Zumbro, aka Emma, aka Emma Z., aka Emmy Z., aka Emmy, aka ‘That Bitch.’ Why does one woman in a small town have several versions of her given name?"

Invited in, Emmaline points to a worn spot on the sofa closest to where Emmaline sits in a faded and tattered recliner. Everything in the small home, including the couch, is yellowed from decades of cigarette smoke. The collapsed foam in the cushion provides a stiff seat. An oxygen pump is tethered to the woman’s nose by a plastic tube long enough for her to reach the kitchen, the bathroom, and the front door.

Mrs. Zumbro, thank you for agreeing to chat with me.

Call me Emmy, and I’m not married.

I’m sorry. I thought that photo on the wall might be your husband.

That peckerwood was my husband. He ran off with Deena Stowgarden.

I’m sorry.

Don’t be. They killed the peckerwood, and the gators ate him down in a stink swamp.

Deena Stowgarden? I don’t know that name. Is that Deena Demchuk?

Yes. Deena’s father claimed their family name was Stowgarden. When Deena was an infant, he began insisting they use Stowgarden — his grandmother’s family name. Deena, what a piece of work. Also, she was Deena Lawton before she married that melon head, John.

I see. Yes, I know the name Deena Lawton. Now, I know her married name is Demchuk. What can you tell me about the LeClares? Specifically, Robert and Tercia LeClare?

I can tell you everything. But the history of Bobby and Terci is not what you need to know. Your instincts are pointing you in the right places. But, Detective, you’re as lost as last year’s Easter eggs.

Grinning sideways at the veiled insult, Carin presses forward in a kind tone.

"What do I need to know?"

Put away your notebook. No contemporaneous notes.

After spending forty-plus years sitting at the county’s switchboard, Emmaline Zumbro developed a vocabulary laced with EMT, police, and legal terminology to go with a keen understanding of the history of Hemingway County. The swear words are sprinkled in — because she can.

"Can you turn down the television? Jeopardy is distracting."

Reaching for the remote, Emmy puffs again and considers the request. She complies by sitting back and pressing the mute button on the remote, causing the familiar theme to fade away. Carin can sense Emmaline is about to begin a story. Still, the login-time dispatcher has learned much about avoiding self-incrimination. Carin puts away her notepad but does not lean back on the couch. She is unwilling to put her white shirt on a black soot spot.

Bobby and Deena were a thing in high school. He was going to join the Air Force and then marry Deena. But the numbskull couldn’t pass the test. He tried them all. Army, Navy, Marines — none thought he was the military type. I guess he should have studied more and partied less.

Carin waits while Emmy lights a new cigarette from the embers of the last butt.

Bobby not passing the tests to get into the military made him angry. I think that was the tipping point for Bobby. That is about when Deena and Terci started covering bruises with makeup.

Terci? Tercia? Robert’s sister?

Oh yeah. Bobby liked smacking them around. Deena used to brag about how hung Bobby was. The boys on the JV hockey team nicknamed him Horse. Things might have been different if he’d made the varsity team. Such is life. Deena, Terci, and Bobby were always together. I think it was grade ten when Terci started turning tricks in homeroom. Bobby figured out people liked his tiny sister because she looked so young.

Carin is mentally repeating everything Emmy says — hoping to remember details.

Deena got out by going Laurena Bobbitt on the abusive Bobby.

What? She cut off his business?

You heard me.

I heard you. Emmy, please continue.

Not too many people know what happened. I took the 911 call. Everyone wanted to cover up what Deena did. Terci was especially pissed off. She liked rolling with her brother. Of course, she moved on from her brother. When Bobby recovered, he was one nasty son of a bitch. Mean as fuck and vowed to kill Deena. Which is why she went to stay with her family in that Louisiana stink swamp.

Unconsciously nodding, Carin connects the dots, and Emmy senses the links forming in Carin’s mind.

Yep, that is when Reed left.

Reed?

My peckerwood husband. I was the only one who didn’t know, and I knew everything. Reed was paying Deena to polish his knob. The moron thought she loved him, and when she left, Reed followed her to Louisiana. The story is that Deena’s uncles and cousins didn’t want to share her with a Yankee.

Chuckling, wheezing, and puffing, Emmy is remembering.

I heard, after slicing it up like fishing chum, they dumped his body in a bayou for the gators.

Emmy, Deena was only in Louisiana for a few years.

A little over two years. Deena met John Demchuk, married him, and forced him to move to Marble Grove. Until you came along with the FBI, John didn’t know, or he ignored, Deena’s history. Terci was kind and fun-loving. Deena was mean, like Bobby. Those two, Deena and Terci, were a nasty pair. You know the rest.

Not really. When did Bobby start cooking meth and crack?

Why are you asking for information you already possess?

What? Emmy, what information do I have?

Wheezing and puffing, Emmy’s tone is tight.

You have the arrest records. Read them.

None of the arrests stuck.

So what? The arrest records are a timeline if you look correctly. You’re new to this game. That’s enough for today. I need a nap.

Carin lets herself out as Emmy unmutes the television and barks the answer to the Jeopardy question.

"What is malcontent?

Two

It’s a pleasant day, not too hot. The wispy clouds hiding the intense sun allowed Laura and Carin to sit at the café’s outdoor table. Carin’s phone to the left of her place setting permits her to read her nonspeaking friend’s texts. Carin admires that Laura’s thumbs and index fingers are lightning-fast on her phone’s keyboard and is in awe of how well the woman eats and types with smooth grace. Their scones are half eaten, and her coffee is refilled when Carin dives into the part she doesn’t want to discuss. But she promised Al she would talk to Laura.

Al is worried and asked me to talk to you about something.

Laura-Mara

Al can ask me anything.

I know that, and you know that. Al doesn’t yet have the confidence.

Laura-Mara

What does Al want you to ask me?

Al is worried you don’t like dogs.

Laura-Mara

I don’t. They bite. I was bitten once.

Oh. I can assure you that Snot does not bite. He is a gentle and sweet dog. Very alert and smart. Did you know the breed, Basenjis, don’t bark?

Laura-Mara

Doesn’t bark?

Nope. A Basenji can make sounds. It is called a yodel. They were initially bred as hunting dogs and needed to be silent.

Laura-Mara

Al is a good teacher.

Laughing at Laura’s comment and bright smile, Carin agrees.

Yes, he is a good teacher. Because of Al, I know about birds and Basenjis. Laura, Snot is a nice dog — he will like you.

Laura-Mara

Maybe.

I think this will change your mind. I’m sorry Al is not asking you himself. I promised to talk to you.

Laura-Mara

Al wants to have a date.

You know?

Laura-Mara

Of course, Al is a sweetheart and easy to read. I know Al.

Realizing Laura is two steps ahead in her relationship with Al, Carin decides to extract herself from the uncomfortable position of go-between.

If you know, then why am I asking you? Laura, why don’t you get Al to talk to you?

Laura-Mara

Al struggles with eye contact. Because he doesn’t look at me, he gets more nervous.

Laura puts up a finger, requesting that Carin wait, then continues keying.

Laura-Mara

Al needs to understand I’m okay with the way he is. I can help him. Sadly, he doesn’t wait for me to type.

Laura-Mara

Also, he can hold my hand. I noticed he was not as nervous when he had his mother’s hand.

When did Al hold his mother’s hand?

Laura-Mara

When we were little, it was how she got him to go into the pool.

I see. Tell you what — I will tell Al a date is okay, and you can hold hands if it makes him more comfortable.

Laura-Mara

Did he talk about a date?

Sorry, I jumped ahead. Al wants to order dinner and have you over to his apartment.

Beaming and circling the tip of her right index finger clockwise around her left index finger, Laura is also bobbing an emphatic yes.

I assume that motion is ASL for ‘when’? I don’t know. I think that is for you to decide.

Laura squints and points a finger, requesting Carin wait, then types.

Laura-Mara

Al has to ask me.

Ha! Yes! I agree. I will tell him that. One more thing, what do you like to eat?

Laura-Mara

Whatever Al wants is okay.

"I know. Why don’t you look online for places that deliver and choose something? I’ll pay. Let Al know you’re bringing dinner with you. It will help him — less stress. It’ll