The Sequoyah Killings- Chapter 5

Chapter 5

“Good afternoon. How can I help you?” Rebekah Doyle asked warmly across the counter of the bed and breakfast lobby.” Tim could tell she didn’t remember who he was, and it was disconcerting. He hadn’t gotten used to being forgotten by everyone overnight.
“I was wondering if you could tell me how to get to the town’s funeral home,” he said. “I’m a detective investigating the death of Officer Daniel May, and I heard that Carl Fields has the body over at the morgue.” Rebekah frowned.
“Isn’t it just awful?” She asked, shaking her head. “Fields Funeral Home isn’t too far from here. If you head up Oak street and take a left on Main, you’ll eventually see the town hall building. The morgue is just behind it.”
“Thank you,” Tim said, setting off for the funeral home. 
There was nobody at the receptionist’s desk when Tim entered the funeral home. He cleared his throat and paused, waiting for someone to hear and come attend to him. He looked around the lobby while he waited. The maroon carpet tiles and patterned wallpaper that had to have been around since at least the eighties reminded him of the living room of his grandmother’s house. He hadn’t been there in thirty years. Two buffet lamps against the back wall gave off a warm, pinkish glow, creating an ominous mood in the room. When several seconds had passed and no one had come, Tim passed through an open door to the right of the reception desk that led to a carpeted stairwell.
He slowly descended the steps, and as he neared the bottom, he could hear the clanking of metal tools. When he reached the bottom of the staircase, Tim peered around the corner, and the warm, eerie light from the funeral home’s lobby was swallowed by the intense white fluorescent glow of the embalming room. The room was spacious, with white tile floors and three metal embalming tables evenly spaced across the middle of the room. Lying on the far left table closest to Tim was the body of Daniel May. He lay on his back with a white sheet covering his body from his chest to his feet. His head was turned to the side, and his eyes were open, staring straight through Tim. Tim shuddered. His hands still remained fastened to his ears, his arms bent at ninety degree angles. Hovering over his body was Carl Fields, wearing a blue polyethylene apron and latex gloves. He wore thick eyeglasses that magnified the size of his eyes.
“Excuse me,” Tim said. Carl, who was inches above Daniel’s head and peering intently, jumped.
“Hey, there!” he said. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. I was pretty focused on this.” He waved his hands over Daniel’s corpse as he spoke. “What can I do for you?”
“My name is Tim Stephens. I’m a detective investigating the murder of Officer May.”
“I thought I saw you leaving the church as I was pulling in,” Carl said. “Such a terrible thing.” He shook his head. “There’s never been a murder in Sequoyah before. The whole town’s pretty shook up.”
Tim motioned to the body. “Have you learned anything from looking him over?”
“From an anatomical standpoint, not really,” Carl responded. “I’ve been embalming for years, so I’m quite familiar with the human body, but I don’t perform autopsies. That’s a medical examiner’s job, and there isn’t one close to Sequoyah. I think it’s pretty obvious that he died from the gunshot wound to the head, but other than that, I can’t tell you much.” He shuffled to the counter behind him and retrieved a small, rectangular tray. He set it on the empty embalming table in front of Tim.
“These were all of the possessions on his person at the time of his death,” Carl said. Tim looked through the tray. There was a silver watch with a scratched up band, a leather wallet, a cell phone, and a small scrap of white paper, neatly folded in half. Tim unfolded the paper and read the thin lettering:

Sequoyah Baptist Church

7:30 tomorrow morning

Come alone.

Tim opened the wallet and riffled through several twenty dollar bills. “He had a nice watch, a phone, and a hundred dollars cash in his wallet, all untouched,” he said. “Whoever killed him could have taken any of it, and they didn’t. Killing Daniel May was their only goal.”
“Maybe Daniel knew his killer,” Carl added.
“Why do you say that?” Tim asked.
“Well, I don’t know how he got that note. Maybe he was given it directly. Maybe it was left for him. All I know is, if I got a note like that, I wouldn’t just do what it said unless I knew who I was meeting.”
“That’s a good point,” Tim said. “I’ve got a few people I still want to talk to, but I’m staying at the bed and breakfast room eight if you find anything else.”
“Sure thing,” Carl said. “Best of luck, and be careful.”
Tim nodded and headed back up the stairs and exited the funeral home. He found his way back to Main Street and made the short walk to Sammy’s Place. He entered the restaurant and was met by the strong aroma of burgers being grilled and french fries. He headed for the back of the restaurant and sat in the same booth he did on the night he arrived in Sequoyah. He looked around the dining room and noticed that the tables were all occupied by different people than those who had been there Tim’s first time in. Tim thought this must have been the early dinner crowd. After a minute, Eleanor came out of the kitchen and made her way to Tim.
“Hey there,” she said. “What can I do ya for?”
“I’ll take a burger and some coffee, please.”
“Coming right up,” she said.
After a few minutes, she returned with his food. “What brings you to Sequoyah?” She asked, setting down the basket with his meal.” We don’t get too many visitors this time of the year. Sometimes a few will trickle through in the fall on their way to Clingman’s Dome or Asheville.”
“My name is Tim Stephens,” Tim replied. “I’m a detective looking into the death of Daniel May that occurred this morning.” Eleanor’s face lost its color and she nodded.
“He was my uncle,” was all she said.
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” Tim said. “If you have a minute, could I ask you a few questions about your uncle?”
“Sure thing,” Eleanor answered. “I’ll do my best to help however I can.” She slid into the seat across from Tim.
“I appreciate it,” Tim said. “Can you tell me where you were this morning between about six and eight?”
“Sure,” Eleanor replied, “I left my house at six this morning to get here and open up the restaurant. My shifts usually start a little bit later, but Sammy the owner called last night saying he was sick, and asking me to come in early.”
“You’ve been here all day?” Tim asked. “That makes for a pretty long shift.”
Eleanor chuckled. “Sure, I’m pretty worn out, but ever since my folks died when I was young, Sammy’s been like a dad to me—I’d do anything for him.”
“I see,” Tim said. “How’d your parents die?”
“They were killed in a car crash when I was eight,” she answered.
“I’m sorry about that,” Tim replied. “I spoke with Bailey Jenkins at the library this morning. She mentioned to me that you stood to inherit a sum of money from Daniel after his death. Is that true?” At this, Eleanor snorted.
“That’s not even close to the truth,” she said with a laugh. “My uncle didn’t have any money at all.”
“Why would Bailey think that, then?” Tim asked.
“Beats me,” Eleanor said. “The two of us have never been close friends. It wouldn’t come as a surprise to me if she just wanted to throw some suspicion my way.”
“And what about you?” Tim asked. “Is there anyone that you think could be involved in this?”
“Absolutely,” she answered. “This has John Doyle written all over it. That man will do whatever it takes to get his way.”
“And how would John Doyle benefit from your uncle’s death?”
“I’m not sure,” Eleanor said, “but it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he had something to do with this.”
“I’ll have to pay him a visit,” Tim said. “I appreciate your help, Eleanor.”
“Sure thing,” she answered. “Let me know if I can do anything else for you. She slid out of the booth and began to check on the other customers in the diner. Tim finished his meal quickly and left a twenty on the table before making his way back to the bed and breakfast.
As he lay in bed with the lamp switched off, he thought of his conversations with Sequoyah’s residents and began to form a plan for the following morning. He would go immediately to Sequoyah Baptist Church, to see if Daniel was still there. Then, he’d find John Doyle and have a conversation with him. 
After a couple restless hours spent tossing around in the bed, Tim slept.

#

There had to have been at least two explosives planted, maybe three. There was rubble from several buildings along Market Street, on either side of the street. There was way too much damage for this to have been caused by an accidental gas leak. Tim ran through the blown out window of an Italian restaurant. There were flames crawling up the walls, and thick smoke made it hard to see. “Marissa! Jack! Link!” he yelled. The only response he got was the moaning of an elderly man trapped underneath an overturned table. Tim pulled the table off the man and rolled him onto a tablecloth. He dragged him across the restaurant and through the door, to the safety of the sidewalk outside. He checked him for injuries, the worst of which appeared to be a broken collarbone. “You’ll be safe here, sir. Don’t move from here until paramedics arrive and can help you,” he said. He made sure no one else was in the restaurant, and then he ran into the restaurant next door, calling the names of his wife and kids.