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Overview
17-year-old Betty Jo Dean was abducted and murdered thirty years ago. It took two days to find her body. She was found, fully dressed apart from her slacks, beneath a gnarled, stunted tree, shot in the back of the head. No one was ever charged with her murder.
Now, following an appeal from one of his constituents, Mayor Mac Bassett has called for the case to be re-opened. But when the body is exhumed, it is revealed that the skull, found loose in the coffin, does not belong to Betty Jo.
If Mac could discover why Betty Jo’s head was taken, he would be one step closer to finding out who killed her. But no one in the small town of Grand Point is talking. Sheriffs, doctors, medical examiners: everyone seems to be warning Mac off. And then people start dying …
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781847515438 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Severn House Publishers |
| Publication date: | 06/01/2015 |
| Edition description: | Reprint |
| Pages: | 288 |
| Product dimensions: | 5.40(w) x 8.40(h) x 0.80(d) |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Silence the Dead
By Jack Fredrickson
Severn House Publishers Limited
Copyright © 2014 Jack FredricksonAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-84751-543-8
CHAPTER 1
Monday, June 21, 1982
Her hands were too sweaty. The knob slipped away and the door slammed back, echoing a thunderclap through the dark, deserted town.
She pressed back against the siding at the top of the stairs, clenching her fists to make her whole body stop shaking, and looked down. No surprise he wasn't on the sidewalk; he didn't like the light. He'd be somewhere else, invisible, making sure she walked straight home from the phone company.
For a flit of a moment, she wanted please to believe he'd come to his senses over the weekend. Lord, she wanted that, but she couldn't dare hope it.
She touched her cheek. Though it was three nights since Friday, the bruise still throbbed. That was OK. The pain would give her courage to be strong. That, and pretending she was in a movie, and what she feared wasn't really real.
She stepped out of the shadow and into the light, slow and unafraid, like Kathleen Turner in Body Heat. Kathleen was purposeful. She'd had courage, even if it was for devilish purposes. Kathleen got what she needed because she didn't let being afraid stop her.
She took out her compact, mindful of the imaginary camera, and took her time inspecting her cheek. She'd sweated like a waterfall inside her operator cubicle all through her shift, maybe from the heat, more likely from the fear. All night long, she'd trembled.
The powder was doing fine, covering the bruise. Likely Pauly wouldn't notice, though maybe his noticing wouldn't be such a bad thing.
She'd called him two hours earlier. It was nervousness, but she needed to be sure he'd show up.
'So, gorgeous, we're still on for tonight?' he said, right off.
Relief calmed her like cool water. 'Remember, I finish at ten,' she said, careful to talk low so the biddies in the next cubicles wouldn't hear.
'The Constellation, right?'
'Yes.' She'd chosen it because it was just across the highway and up Second Street, so close she could practically run to it. Then, somewhat theatrically, she whispered, 'You might want to cancel, though.'
'What?' He sounded real concerned.
'Things are a little unsettled for me right now,' she said mysteriously. She'd decided it was only fair to give him a little warning.
'Meaning what?' he naturally asked.
'Meaning I'm of interest to other men. One's important. He thinks he owns me. There might be trouble if you come to Grand Point tonight.'
'Old boyfriend?'
'Not hardly – at least about the boyfriend part.' Old was right on, though.
'An older man? Don't worry. I don't get afraid,' he said, in a most manly way.
'Because you were a Marine, right?'
'Semper Fi.'
She did not as yet speak foreign languages, having quit high school for bigger things two years before, but she assumed he'd just said something reassuring. Absolutely, Pauly was a wonderful man.
The biddy in the next cubicle had leaned back so she could eavesdrop better.
'See you at the Constellation.' She clicked off, relieved. Though this would be only their first real date, she was sure Pauly Pribilski was a confident man.
That was two hours ago. Now, alone in the light at the top of the outside stairs, the comfort she'd felt was gone. The Important was somewhere down below.
She moved to the edge of the stairs and hesitated again, knowing now she was exposed to the windows above the Red Wing shoe store across the street. Likely it was nerves that imagined them going black the instant she stepped outside. Doctor Romulous Farmont liked his perch above the shoe store for looking down on them all, but that time of evening he liked the darkness of the Hacienda better, sitting back against the wall with the rest of the Importants.
She shuddered, remembering her time above the Red Wing just a few weeks before. Crazy afraid, she'd gone to the doc because he was the only doctor in Grand Point and she'd had to know. He'd drugged her a little, to calm her, he said, but not so she couldn't feel his fingers, working. She'd wondered how much of that was necessary.
An understandable concern after a minor indiscretion, he'd said in his fancy words, without asking who'd done the deed. If anything still developed, he'd take care of it. He would, too, without saying anything to anyone. He took care of things, especially for other Importants.
There was no sense remembering that now. She took a deep breath and went down the stairs. Nothing would happen until she got to the highway and didn't turn for home.
Like always, the sidewalks were empty. The few cars parked at the curb belonged to the other phone operators. She hurried toward the corner, her footsteps clacking the cement loud enough for even the deaf to hear.
Too soon, she was out from the safe shadows of the storefronts. To her left, the highway ran dark to the bridge. The moon was full, glinting off the river like a thousand eyes, waiting. But there were only two eyes likely to be watching to make sure she headed straight home.
No, damn it, she said in her head. She was only seventeen. She was entitled to a proper date with a nice young man. She stepped off the curb.
Headlamps appeared sudden in the east, speeding across the bridge toward her.
She ran across the street before the lights could find her, and up into the trees on the courthouse lawn, their craggly old branches making welcoming long shadows to hide her. She ducked behind the biggest tree and stuck her head out enough to see.
The headlights grew larger as the car got closer.
Surely, it was him.
CHAPTER 2The Important had gone crazy dangerous the previous Friday night.
She'd been walking home from her four-hour shift at the phone company, thinking for the thousandth time about the gorgeous young man she'd met the night before. Tall, broad shoulders, blond, he'd appeared at the Pepsi machine in the break room like a god. She'd quickly closed her Photoplay magazine, cover down, so he wouldn't think she was shallow reading about movie stars, and gave him a semi-interested smile.
It worked. He came over and sat down. She had only four minutes left on her break, but he was real charming and they talked for ten, about nothing and everything, until the supervisor found her and waved a bony finger. By then, Pauly Pribilsky said he'd drive her home after work.
And that's all it was. They talked in his car for maybe fifteen minutes, then they had a kiss – the one she'd been thinking about ever since.
Walking home the next night, Friday, she'd been too lost in hoping Pauly would call over the weekend to pay any mind to anything else. She'd just passed the usual ruckus in the Hacienda parking lot when the Important had stepped out suddenly from the bushes to block her way.
His face had been purple with anger, and something wet was dribbling from the corner of his mouth. 'Got yourself a boyfriend?' he'd said, all out of breath and sneery.
'He's just a boy from work —'
'I know who he is,' he'd said, interrupting rapid-fire, still breathing heavy. 'Paulus Pribilski, Polish, lineman for the DeKalb-Peering. Lives up in Rockford. Hot shot, fancy car, likes to gamble too much.'
Truly, the Important's eyes were everywhere.
'He's someone my own age!' she'd shouted, then instantly regretted it, because his face had puffed up like a kid holding his breath to not cry.
'Look,' she'd gone on, trying to be nice, 'all's you and I do is sneak off, and things went too —'
'I know about you seeing Doc Farmont.'
There was no hope to it. She'd been major flattered when he, an Important, had expressed an interest in her one night when she was walking home, almost in this very spot. A man like him could be exciting, and she was leaving Grand Point anyway, soon as she saved up enough for beautician school in Chicago. He was married, but that would add to the excitement. Except it didn't. All he wanted was to sneak off.
Now she'd met Pauly Pribilsky and romance needed to blossom. Still, she wanted to be kind. 'It can never be anything between us,' she'd said, trying to smile.
He'd slapped her hard across the face. 'That's for being unfaithful,' he'd said, hissing like an animal.
Her eyes had teared up so quick she hadn't seen the second one coming before it slapped the numbness where the first had hit. 'That's for dressing so provocative.'
She'd backed up but not fast enough.
He'd hit her a third time. 'And that's to remind you to walk straight home after work. No car rides from anybody.'
'Go to hell!' she'd screamed, and ran off.
It had taken her a block to realize that the Important wasn't chasing. He didn't need to. Grand Point was small and he was big. He could find her whenever he wanted.
She'd waited fifteen minutes in front of her house for her breathing to get regular. Going in, she'd told her mother she'd run smack into a tree because she'd not been paying attention to her walking. She couldn't tell the truth. Her parents were from the east side of the river – Pinktown people. They'd suffer if she weren't careful. Importants controlled everything in Grand Point.
Saturday morning had been bad. She'd not been able to figure out what to do. So she'd stayed in her room, icing the bruise that was now ripe as an eggplant.
And then Pauly had called at two, saying he'd been thinking about that one kiss ever since Thursday night. She'd said she had too, but the back of her mind had been screaming no way should she see the new young man. Then, talking, she'd got to remembering Kathleen Turner and Body Heat and living strong and purposeful, so she'd said yes to Pauly Pribilski. But that had been Saturday when there'd been hours and hours ahead for staying safe in her room. Now, come Monday night, she was out, hiding in the trees on the courthouse lawn, thinking she'd made a huge mistake.
The car got stopped by a red light at Second Street, its engine rumbling low. It was still too far away to recognize. She pressed back against the tree, waiting. When the engine got louder, starting up, she snuck another peek. The car was turning onto Second Street.
It was a cop cruiser, slowing at the sheriff's side of the courthouse. She couldn't see which deputy was at the wheel. Every one of them, young and old, had invented a reason to talk to her at one time or another. Most were harmless, except for the one that was particularly disgusting. The car pulled into the sheriff's parking lot and disappeared behind the side of the building.
She stepped out from the tree, toward the darker shadows of the building. The old courthouse had been strung with red, white and blue banners for the Fourth of July, but already they were drooping like old women's underwear. The ancient bricks had baked in that same exact spot for over a hundred hot summers, wilting everything around them. She supposed if they could talk, they'd surely rather scream, from the sameness of it all.
The town had gone back to quiet. No cars, no footsteps.
Across Second Street, the goofy stars on the Constellation's sign winked slowly on and off, like the eyes of an old lech, of which Grand Point had too many. Its door was propped open, spilling light like milk onto the sidewalk, but no music came out. No one went to the Constellation for a lively time. It was a daytime place for county lawyers to down quick ones before going back to their more interesting towns. Nighttime, the Constellation was a crypt. That's why she'd chosen it.
She ran across to the unlit store next to the Constellation. Catching her breath, she checked her reflection in the darkened glass. She'd borrowed her future sister-in-law's blouse because the tan polyester caught the auburn in her hair and the hazel in her eyes. Her mother said the blouse was too tight in the wrong places, but it was only just a little. She looked good. Not just Pinktown good, but good enough for anyplace this side of the river, too.
She walked into the bar.
CHAPTER 3Pauly sat facing the door. He wore a nice gray shirt that looked tailor-made especially for his muscular physique, the big silver watch he'd worn on Thursday, and a pair of dark blue checked pants.
Otherwise, the Constellation was as pathetically empty as she'd hoped. Other than Pauly, there was no one there except for Dougie and two ancient couples smoking and drinking red drinks at a table in the back.
Pauly stood up, a real gentleman. 'Betty Jo,' he said. He pulled out a chair for her to sit down, another gentlemanly thing.
The chair he'd pulled out meant her back would be to the door. She sat there anyway, even though not being able to see the door made her uncomfortable.
Dougie came over, fast as a fly to a light bulb. 'Hi, Betty Jo.'
'Hi, Dougie,' she said, with just the right amount of un-enthusiasm.
Pauly ordered them both beers, and she prayed Dougie wouldn't choose that exact time to ask for ID, knowing as he did that she was only seventeen. But Dougie was cooperating, and left to get the beers.
'How's the phone company tonight?' Pauly asked.
'Quite hot.'
'All those old switches, all those old lines,' he said knowingly. 'Guess what I heard?'
Dougie chose that precise moment to bring over their longnecks.
'Hi, Betty Jo,' he said again, braying almost exactly like a mule. He took his time setting the bottles down. Surely he was destined to spend his whole life in Grand Point.
'Hi, Dougie,' she said, being polite to his saying hello for the second time in five minutes.
She turned her attention back, as any lady would, to the man she was with. 'What did you hear, Pauly?'
Pauly waited as Dougie was still standing there, awkward as something newborn, and unwise. When Dougie finally got the hint and walked off, Pauly said, 'I heard our little telephone company is kept in business by the biggest phone company, Illinois Bell.'
She looked away, like she was carefully considering what Pauly said. It didn't make sense, a big company like Bell being nice to a second-floor operation like DeKalb-Peering, but she'd not yet studied business.
Behind the bar, Dougie was shooting moony glances her way.
'I suppose that's possible,' she said.
'Competition, see? Politicians down at the capitol in Springfield say they like lots of phone companies slugging it out to keep prices reasonable, but it's baloney. Those politicians get big contributions from Bell to keep other big competition away. Tiny fish like DeKalb-Peering keep things from looking like Bell controls the state.' He sat back knowledgably and took a sip of his beer.
It appeared slimy behavior was everywhere, not just in Grand Point, Peering County.
'Lived here long?' he asked.
'My whole life, though I'm fixing to change that.'
'Leaving?'
She opened her purse and brought out the little pocket notebook. The thin cardboard cover was all frayed, and the curly wire at the top was squished from banging around in her purse, but it showed she was mature enough to have big plans.
'Every night after work I write down the money that's going to the bank come payday. I only make three-fifteen an hour, but a dollar of that goes to the bank, no excuses. In only seventy-four more weeks, I'll have enough for beautician school in Chicago.'
She told him how she'd quit high school to work in Grand Point's one beauty parlor, but how, after six months, it had closed, leaving her to find only part-time work as a nighttime phone operator.
'Well, don't leave before we've gotten to know each other properly,' he said, flashing a fine smile.
'That's a most agreeable idea,' she said. In fact, she was now thinking the whole business of Chicago might be slipping into a distinct second place if things worked out between herself and this sexy man.
Pauly glanced over at Dougie. 'I tried getting your friend to cash my paycheck, but he won't do it.'
Being as there was no one there except the ancients, she called across the room: 'Dougie, cash this man's paycheck.'
One of the ancients, a woman, looked over. The men had already been giving her the secret eyeball, probably recalling younger days.
Dougie's face got red from her suddenly paying attention to it. 'Not enough in the drawer, Betty Jo.'
She shrugged a what-can-I-do smile over at Pauly. 'Big check?' 'I do all right, climbing poles. Listen, let's try that Mexican-looking place across the river.'
Her mouth went dry but she kept her face calm. 'The Hacienda's a dump.'
'I saw lots of cars in their parking lot. They're bound to have a full register.'
'It's full up with creeps.' She touched her sore cheek. He might as well know.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Silence the Dead by Jack Fredrickson. Copyright © 2014 Jack Fredrickson. Excerpted by permission of Severn House Publishers Limited.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
Cover,Recent Titles by Jack Fredrickson,
Title Page,
Copyright,
Dedication,
Acknowledgments,
Visitation,
Book I: Her Story,
Book II: Ridl's Story,
Book III: The Mayor's Story,
Book IV: Independence,