Deception Specialist by John Shepphird

Author:John Shepphird
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Down & Out Books

CHAPTER 30

Except for an old-timer hunched over a Bloody Mary, the woodsy Eureka Tavern was empty. The place felt timeless. Shuffleboard table. A dusty Olympia Brewing Company neon sign. Mining implements decorated the walls. I bellied up and ordered a beer. Laura, the bartender, a lanky cowgirl in worn overalls, hair in braids, poured.

Minutes later, Madeline joined us. As I suspected, Laura was the one Madeline was staying with. She introduced me. “Jack is a friend of my brother. He’s the private investigator helping me sort everything out.”

“Investigation consultant,” I corrected.

“Welcome,” Laura said and got Madeline a cup of coffee. “Want that Irish?” she asked with one hand on the neck of a bottle of Jameson.

“I wish, but I’ve got a class to teach.”

As Laura tended to the old guy at the end of the bar, I explained to Madeline what Jim and Kathy had said—Mike’s text that night.

“Nobody ever told me that.”

“Who took their statements?”

“Sheriff Marsh. Who else?”

“When Mike was pulled out of the mineshaft, was his phone on him?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I never got it back. I guess we all figured it was at the bottom of the shaft.” Saddened by the thought, she added, “A couple days later, they gave me his watch and wedding band.”

“Contact your cell phone provider and request the correspondence from that night.”

“How do I do that?”

“Who opened the account?”

“Mike.”

“Is it in your name?”

“I forget. Probably not. He had it before we were married, handled most of the bills and stuff like that.”

“You should be able to get that info. Did you text Mike that night?”

“No.”

Laura was flipping through sports channels on the TV. I said to her, “I understand there’s a tunnel in the basement here.”

“Who told you that?”

“Jim and Kathy.”

Laura laughed. “Yeah, well…that figures. We don’t advertise it, but there is a crawlspace downstairs. It goes maybe a hundred feet or so.”

I said to Madeline, “I’m wondering if Mike could have fallen into the mineshaft from an interconnecting tunnel, as opposed to from the sinkhole above.”

“A tunnel?”

“I met with the first responder who retrieved Mike. He said there are interconnecting tunnels leading to the shaft.” I turned to Laura and asked, “Do you know of any other entrances to the mine, other than downstairs?”

She shot a knowing look to Madeline before Laura said, “There is an entrance at the old mill. A bunch of us went exploring once. I asked Mike and Madeline if they wanted to come, but…”

“There was no way I was going into some nasty tunnel,” Madeline said. “I’m claustrophobic.”

Laura teased, “Plus, spiders freak you out, right?”

Madeline said, “Arachnophobia, acrophobia, nyctophobia. I’ve got all the phobias.”

“How about coulrophobia?”

Madeline asked, “What’s that?”

“Fear of clowns,” Laura said. “I suffer from that. Big time. A lot of them here at closing time.”

The sound of Madeline’s laugh reminded me of her brother Hector’s.

Laura went on, “Wikipedia says twelve percent of adults suffer from fear of clowns.” She poured a shot of Jameson for herself. “I definitely have that,” she said, then downed the shot of whiskey.

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