A Problem in Paxton Park, page 5
part #5 of Paxton Park Mystery Series
The chief cleared his throat and went on. “Mr. Barrett had been hit on the head several times resulting in serious head wounds. It is assumed that the attacker approached from behind and when within striking distance, he landed the first blow. It is also assumed that Mr. Barrett was struck unaware and did not have ample warning to defend himself. It appears that the victim fell to his knees and was hit several more times. It was dark when the attack took place. Rain started around 7:30pm and continued for several hours. We put the time of the attack between six-thirty and seven in the evening. This was determined by security footage from the bank where Mr. Barrett worked. He is seen leaving the bank at 6:15pm. Barrett routinely walked home from work which would have placed him at the park at around 6:25. He was attacked as he walked up the slight hill that would take him to the neighborhood on the other side of the park.”
Jay was next to speak and she gave some details about the investigation and where it was headed. “A baseball bat was recovered from under the trees near the body, but it has been determined that it is not the murder weapon. Divers have searched the lake, but nothing was found there. Presently, we have no suspects. We ask the public to contact the police department if they saw anything at the park that evening. Any small thing can end up being of the utmost importance. Please do not disregard anything you might have seen.”
The assistant district attorney briefly took the podium and assured the crowd that everything was being done that could be done. Then all of the speakers stood near the microphone to take questions. The audience was told to make two lines and that they would all be able to ask their questions.
The first to speak was an older woman with gray hair. “Are we safe?”
The chief spoke. “You should take the precautions you always do as you go about your day. Keep your doors locked, don’t walk alone late at night, don’t walk alone in deserted areas, if you see something that makes you uncomfortable then go into a store or seek out places with other people around, call the police. If you take precautions, then you will keep yourselves safe.”
“Why is it so hard to find the killer?” A young man demanded.
Jay took the question and did a good job of explaining the intricacies of crimes and investigations. “Sometimes, there are very few clues to go on and the investigation takes a good amount of time to make the necessary discoveries.”
“I would die if I had to face these community questions,” Juliet whispered to her friend. “I don’t like to be on the spot and have to come up with an articulate answer on demand. Imagine having to do this with television crews recording your every word? I’d make a fool of myself and then I’d have to move away in shame.”
Shelly had to bite her lip to keep from chuckling at Juliet’s comment. “Then it’s a good thing it’s Jay up there and not you.”
“Do you know anything about how the attacker looks?” A middle-aged man asked the panel. “Like from security cameras in the area?”
The police chief said, “We don’t have a description as yet.”
“Why did the killer attack Mr. Barrett in a lighted area? Why not wait until he moved into a dark spot?” This question was from an older man. “Isn’t that a bold move? Have there been any other similar crimes that have taken place in neighboring towns? Or anywhere in the state for that matter?”
Jay responded, “It may seem that the attacker was behaving in a bold manner because he attacked Mr. Barrett in the lighted area, however, Mr. Barrett may have detected someone too close to him and sped up, or maybe he was about to run. The attacker wouldn’t want Mr. Barrett to yell or cry out or try to run away so he quickly took his opportunity … which happened to be under the lamppost.”
A young mother with two little kids with her asked the next question. “Should we keep away from the park? We go there all the time.”
Mayor Daniels stepped to the podium. “You should certainly continue to enjoy the park, but …. you should avoid the place after dark. If Mr. Barrett heeded that, he would still be alive.”
Boos went up from the crowd.
A man stood up from his auditorium seat and spoke with an angry tone. “Most of us go to the park in the dark. There are baseball games and basketball games going on at night under the lights. Most of the area is well-lit. It’s always been a safe place. Sure, it’s taking a chance to walk around in there at midnight or whatever, but Mr. Barrett was killed around 6:30pm. To paint him as being irresponsible for going through the park in the early evening when there are plenty of people around is outrageous. Barrett did nothing wrong. He did something lots of us do. And we aren’t behaving in a reckless fashion by being in the park in the dark in the evening.”
A number of people applauded the speaker.
Mayor Daniels got red in the face. “Tonight the police talked about taking precautions. I’m sorry if you think I’m being insensitive, but being in a park at night is not a smart thing to do. You need to understand how to take the correct precautions to ensure your safety.”
People began discussing the matter with those sitting next to them, some men and women shouted their opinions at the mayor, and the meeting began to devolve into disarray.
Shelly and Juliet watched the commotion as the assistant district attorney tried to take charge and restore order.
“Mayor Daniels certainly knows how to work a crowd.” Shelly rolled her eyes.
“The man doesn’t know when to quit. Look at the television crews,” Juliet said as TV cameras began swiveling around to film the audience. “They weren’t expecting things to devolve into a shouting match.”
“The man who said the mayor’s comment was insensitive was right,” Shelly pointed out. “Mayor Daniels shouldn’t have criticized Mr. Barrett for walking in the park at dinner time whether it was dark outside or not. It wasn’t late. It’s always been a safe place.”
“Until now,” Juliet sighed. “Have you had enough? How about we head home?”
Once outside of the hot and humid auditorium, the young women appreciated the cool evening air as they strolled away from the school and turned onto Main Street.
“I hope it doesn’t turn into a brawl back there,” Juliet said.
“Maybe we got out just in time,” Shelly kidded. “We can watch the news later to see how things ended up.”
“Do you think the meeting was helpful? I mean before the shouting match started.”
“I guess so,” Shelly said. “I think talking about what happened and discussing what steps the police are taking in the investigation can be reassuring to people.”
“It sort of made me feel more nervous. They called a big community meeting. It almost makes the whole thing scarier, if that’s even possible. A murder is already scary when the killer is still on the loose,” Juliet said. “Do you think the killer is from around here?”
Shelly shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“Sometimes I find myself looking over my shoulder to be sure no one is sneaking up on me,” Juliet said taking a quick backwards glance. “There’s no way to defend yourself if someone sneaks up on you and hits you with something on the back of the head.”
Thinking about an attack from behind caused a shiver of terror to run over Shelly’s skin. “Maybe we should sign up for a self-defense class,” she said to her friend before taking a peek over her own shoulder.
9
Right before the knock sounded on her door, Shelly and Justice had settled on the sofa after eating an early dinner. Disturbed by the rapping noise, Justice jumped up on the back of the couch and swished her tail back and forth while staring at the front door.
Shelly looked through the peephole to see a man standing on her porch. Leaving the security chain on, she opened the door a little.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
Just under six feet tall and stocky, the man looked to be in his late sixties. His light brown hair was thinning on top. He wore tan slacks and a navy blazer.
“Shelly Taylor? I’m Mike Meeks. I was a friend of Wilson Barrett. Imelda Wallace told me you spoke with her. Do you have a few minutes to talk?” He held out his driver’s license and a business card. “Here are two things to prove who I am. Would you be able to meet me at the coffee shop around the corner? I wouldn’t expect you to feel comfortable inviting a stranger into your home.”
Shelly looked at the pieces of identification and handed them back to the man. “I can meet you at the coffee shop. Give me five minutes to change.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you in a little while.” Mike Meeks nodded and returned to the BMW he had parked in front of the house.
When Shelly closed the door, she made eye contact with Justice. “That was unexpected. I wonder why he wants to speak with me? Hopefully, he has some information to share.”
Justice let out a loud meow.
Mike Meeks waved to Shelly when she walked into the coffee house and she went over to his table to join him. Extending her hand to shake, she introduced herself. She ordered a cup of tea and it was delivered within a few minutes. “You and Wilson were friends?”
“For years. Decades, really. It’s quite a shock to think of him gone.” Mike took a swallow of coffee.
When he didn’t say anything more, Shelly asked, “You spoke with Imelda?”
“She said you and a police officer went by to talk with her about Wilson. I went to the community meeting, but I was wondering if there was any more information about what happened? Maybe something the police don’t want to bring up to the public? Since you’re working with the police, I thought I’d ask you.”
“I’m really not involved in the investigation itself,” Shelly said trying to explain her association with law enforcement without mentioning her dreams. “I help the police on occasion by keeping notes at an interview, doing some research for them. I’m not an officer and they don’t share the details of an investigation with me so I really don’t know any more than you do.”
“I see,” Mike said, his face showing his disappointment. “Were you at the community meeting?”
“I was. I went as a concerned town resident though, not as an assistant to the police.”
“What did you think of the meeting?”
“It was helpful in some ways.” Shelly explained that she thought a meeting like that could calm some townspeople by being reassured the police were doing all they could, but that it also might cause more anxiety for other residents because there were no suspects and the investigation seemed to have stalled.
“I agree with everything you said,” Mike told her. “For me, I have to admit that the lack of suspects is disturbing. It can be worrisome to townspeople to think a killer is freely walking around.”
“It makes me uneasy as well.” Shelly nodded.
“The way Wilson died … it’s very upsetting to me.” Mike looked down at his coffee. “How can someone do that and then walk away without being seen? How can there be no evidence?”
“The rain didn’t help,” Shelly said.
Mike leaned in closer. “Do you think someone saw the killer and isn’t saying so?”
“I guess it’s possible, but why do you think someone wouldn’t come forward if they noticed something?”
“I don’t know. Fear of getting involved? Fear of retribution? Distrust of the police?”
“I can understand that,” Shelly said. “When was the last time you saw Wilson?”
Mike ran his hand over his face. “About a month before he was killed. He came to my house. We played cards, had a few drinks. We got together at least once a month.”
“Were there other people there?”
“Another friend, Bill Handy, and a friend of Bill’s from school. Bill works at the high school.”
“How was the evening? Did anyone say or do anything out of the ordinary?” Shelly asked.
One of the man’s eyebrows raised. “No. We had a good time together. It was a nice, relaxing evening.”
Shelly asked, “Had Wilson confided anything to you recently? Was he stressed about anything? Was he worried about someone’s behavior? Did he have any difficult clients?”
“No. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing Wilson said stood out. We all complain about work at times … there’s too much to do, a client or a customer is being demanding, we need a break. All just normal complaints.”
“Was everything going okay between Wilson and Imelda?”
“Yeah, sure, as far as I know. Wilson never said anything about being unhappy. They seemed solid together.”
“You’re an attorney? What is your area of expertise?”
“Financial planning, wealth preservation, wills and trusts, probate. My office is in Rollingwood, but I’m busy with a different venture so I’m not at the law office very often.”
“You live in Paxton Park?” Shelly asked.
“In Newell, but close to the Paxton Park town line.”
Shelly gave a nod. “Out of curiosity, why did you come to talk to me? Why not go directly to the police?”
“I thought you’d be more helpful. I thought the police might not be forthcoming with information because I’m only a friend, not a relative. I can’t stop thinking about Wilson. I’m trying to understand how something like this can happen.”
“Did Wilson ever confide in you that he was worried about his personal safety?” Shelly asked.
“Do you think Wilson believed he might be in danger?” Mike questioned.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Shelly folded her arms on the tabletop. “Do you think he was concerned about such a thing?”
“Why do you ask? Is there anything that indicated Wilson might have had worries about his safety?”
Shelly felt they were going in circles and had the distinct impression Mike was fishing for information to see what she knew. “Did Wilson ever mention learning self-defense? Did he own a gun? Did he carry pepper spray?”
Mike stared at the young woman across from him. “I think he had some pepper spray.”
“Was this recent or did he always carry it?”
“I think it was fairly recent.”
“Did you ask him about it?”
“Yeah. He told me it didn’t hurt to have it.”
“Did he say why he thought that?” Shelly pressed.
Mike shook his head.
“Did Imelda tell you we asked her about the pepper spray?”
Mike hesitated, but then said, “She did tell me.”
“So are your answers to my questions honest ones or are they based solely on what Imelda said to you? Did you see Wilson with pepper spray or are you trying to find out what I know?”
“I saw Wilson with pepper spray,” Mike told her. “Imelda told me she didn’t know he had it. She asked me why Wilson was carrying it. I told her the same thing I told you. He didn’t really say why.”
“Did your friend have any enemies?” Shelly asked.
Mike blinked. “Enemies? No, of course not.”
Shelly spoke in a kind voice. “If you have some concerns or suspicions, and you prefer not to talk openly about them, there’s a police tip line you can call. You can remain anonymous.”
Mike gave her a skeptical look. “Is it really possible to remain anonymous in this day and age?”
“You can tell me your concerns if you’d rather not go to the police. When I pass the information on, I don’t have to report who spoke to me.”
Mike gave a sad shrug. “I don’t have anything to tell. I wish I did. Then maybe the killer would get caught and locked up.”
“So Wilson was carrying pepper spray purely as a precaution?”
“That’s what it sounded like.”
“What about your mutual friend, Bill Handy? Do you think Wilson might have confided in Bill about something that was troubling him?”
Mike slowly shook his head. “I just don’t know. Bill and I went to the community meeting together. He didn’t let on that he knew something was bothering Wilson.”
“Have the police interviewed you about your friend?” Shelly asked.
“A detective came to my office to talk to me shortly after Wilson was attacked. I think his last name was Walton.”
“Did Wilson enjoy the class on finances he taught in the adult education center?”
“He did. He felt like he was helping people take care of themselves. He taught that class for years. The last time I saw him, he mentioned he was giving it up though.”
“Did he say why?” Shelly questioned.
“He was tired of it. It had become a grind. It went on for twelve or fifteen weeks each time it was offered. Wilson was planning to teach abbreviated classes on personal finances at the church in town. He’d been approached by the pastor about it. Wilson was going to speak once a month or so on different topics related to the financial aspects of life. He was going to do it for free so more people could take advantage of it.”
“That was very generous of him,” Shelly said. “I also heard Wilson had given up playing piano at the resort restaurant.”
Mike nodded. “That had gone on for years, too. He said he didn’t want to be out so much. He wanted to slow down, so he cut that out of his schedule.” The man glanced at his watch. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. I should get going.” He thanked Shelly for meeting with him.
“If you think of anything that might be helpful, get in touch with the police or you can reach out to me,” Shelly said before Mike left the coffee house.
Watching him go, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that Mike knew more than he’d shared with her.
10
Returning home after meeting Mike Meeks at the coffee shop, Shelly spotted Juliet on the porch of her house and called to her.
Juliet hurried down the steps and when Shelly saw the look on her friend’s face, she stopped short.
“What’s wrong?”
“When you didn’t answer the doorbell, I was about to call your phone. Jay called me. She wants us to meet her. Right now. She gave me an address. It sounds serious.”
