Casual Mention: Spulman County Mysteries, #1

Richard Munson

Copyright © 2019 by Richard Munson.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names of characters, organizations, institutions, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

Cover art and photography by Richard Munson.

To Nancy.

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter 1    

Chapter 2    

Chapter 3    

Chapter 4    

Chapter 5    

Chapter 6    

Chapter 7    

Chapter 8    

Chapter 9    

Chapter 10    

Chapter 11    

Chapter 12    

Chapter 13    

Chapter 14    

Chapter 15    

Chapter 16    

Chapter 17    

Chapter 18    

Chapter 19    

Chapter 20    

About the Author

Overview

Reading Order for

Spulman County Mysteries

You need not read the novels in any specific order, but you will find better continuity, character development, and long-arc plot elements if you read the novels in the order listed.

Casual Mention

Breakfast Encounter

Day at the Lake

Night of the Coyotes

Fast Water Undercurrent

Tulip Turn Up

Sliding Revelation

Rapid Descent

Convenience Store Inconvenience

Culmination

You can explore the full list of books in this series at The Spulman County Mysteries.

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Chapter 1    

Charles Winslow opened the back hatch to his red SUV and retrieved his bucket and clam gun. He closed the hatch and locked his vehicle before trudging to the cliff edge. As he prepared to descend to the beach down the slippery natural stone staircase, he cursed himself for not bringing his hip waders. He adjusted his cap, pulled his jacket tight around his neck, and turned on the headlamp secured below his cap. Charles used the light to illuminate the path before him as he made his way to the top of the steps.

He exercised care as he shifted his weight onto each succeeding step while lowering himself the full sixty-three feet to the beach. Along the way, his clam gun and a bucket rattled against one another, producing a soft and non-rhythmic noise that did not carry far in the wet morning fog.

After descending the stairs, Charles noticed that the tide was approaching full ebb. When the sun rose at 5:38, the tide would be out, providing the perfect opportunity to find his legal limit of clams. He took a few moments to scan the beach to decide where he wanted to sit until sunrise.

Charles walked south along the beach to move away from the steps. The beach face near the steps hosted large crowds because people seldom ventured far from the stairs. The clammer knew the sand near the steps likely contained few clams and he wanted to find a more productive section of the beach.

He had walked a few hundred yards before noticing what he assumed was someone sleeping on the beach near the cliff face. Charles repositioned his bucket and clam gun so they did not rub together and disturb the man’s slumber. As he passed the man, he noticed the man was lying in an unnatural position. It did not appear normal for someone asleep on a cold beach. It seemed odd to Charles that the man had no blanket or sleeping bag on such a chilly morning. Charles placed his bucket on the sand and lowered the handle to avoid making noise.

He edged closer to the cliff and soon realized the man was not sleeping but was dead. Charles took time to confirm the person was dead and then decided he should not advance further or he might contaminate evidence. He called emergency services to report his finding then moved away toward the surf. He overturned his bucket, spilling his trowel, gloves, and clamming bag onto the sand, and sat on the upturned bucket while awaiting the help the dispatcher said was on the way.

While he waited, Charles craned his neck to examine the cliff line to consider the point from which the person fell. It was not obvious where the fall originated since the top of the cliff was ill defined and covered in thick vegetation. The clammer then turned to gaze at the ocean as the limited light illuminated the small and infrequent waves. He could see dimples in the moist sand where razor clams hid, but he realized he would not be clamming today.

A few minutes later, two men carrying an aluminum stretcher emerged from the steps and walked at a fast pace in his direction. As the two men arrived, Charles rose and greeted them. He pointed toward the cliff to notify the men of the body’s location. I’m pretty sure the guy’s dead. I didn’t get too close, but he didn’t seem to be breathing and he hasn’t moved or made any noise.

The older of the two men nodded. Okay, we’ll check. You’ll need to stay here. Investigators will need to ask you questions. They’ll be here in another ten minutes. Thanks.

The two men walked toward the body. As they neared the cliffs, they approached with care. Only one person approached the prone man to check for vital signs. Within a few seconds, he rose and stepped away from the body. It was obvious they could do nothing.

The paramedics returned and stopped beside Charles. The younger man used his thumb to point toward the body. Yeah, he’s dead. I doubt someone could survive a fall from that height. We’ll hang around with you until the sheriff or medical examiner arrives, then we’ll leave it to them.

The older paramedic looked around the beach. It’s a beautiful morning. Too bad he didn’t live to see it. You’re out this morning for clams?

Yeah, I thought with the tide out I’d be able to get my limit before breakfast. It doesn’t look like I’ll dig clams this morning.

The detectives won’t keep you too long. Perhaps you’ll get a chance later.

Nah, I don’t feel up to it now. It’s been a downer morning. I guess I’ll go home after this.

As the men chatted, a lone figure exited the steps and descended toward the packed wet sand. He then walked toward them just above the waterline. By the walk and the lack of any buckets, shovels, rakes, or clam guns it was obvious this was not someone here to enjoy nature’s bounty.

Sheriff Carl Maclin extended his arm to shake hands with the two paramedics. Good morning, Tom, Jeff. Did you confirm he’s deceased?

The older paramedic glanced at the body before responding. Yeah, he’s dead. I’d say he’s been dead an hour or more. We couldn’t help him.

The sheriff then turned to address Charles. So you found the body?

I did. He was just lying there. I thought he was sleeping on the beach, but it didn’t look like a normal sleeping position so I figured I’d better investigate. It surprised me he was just lying there dead. Charles shook his head and upper torso as though to ward off some evil.

What time was that?

I’m guessing it was 5:15. I called 911 right away so that should give you a more precise time.

Did you touch the body?

No, once I realized he was dead I stayed away to avoid contaminating any evidence. The only person to go near him was a paramedic. He didn’t disturb it much.

The paramedic confirmed that he had approached and tried to avoid disturbing the body or the sand. He noted that he tried to retrace his footsteps to avoid disturbing more sand than necessary.

Sheriff Carl Maclin again turned his attention to Charles. So you were out digging for clams this morning.

I was planning to wait for the sunrise and was working my way south to find a good spot. That’s when I found him.

Do you have a shellfish license?

I do.

Can I see it please?

Sure. Charles dug through his layers of clothing to produce his wallet from which he extracted his license. Here you are. It’s current.

The sheriff used his flashlight to illuminate the document. So I see. Thank you and thanks for getting a license.

Charles felt the harassment over a license was unnecessary under the current circumstances. He realized it was best to keep his irritation to himself. No problem.

While your wallet is out, can I see your license? I’ll need your full name, address, and contact information so we can contact you if we have additional questions. Is the information on your license current?

Charles handed his driver’s license to the sheriff. He then struggled to control his nerves and return the shellfish license to its designated place in his wallet. It is.

The sheriff checked the expiration date and address on the license. How long have you lived in Harbortown?

I’ve lived there my whole life. I’ve lived at that address for twenty-two years now. My whole family lives in Harbortown, Piermont, or Cliffside Estates.

Sheriff Maclin pulled a notepad from his vest pocket and recorded the relevant information from the license. Can I also get your phone number and an email address?

The clammer provided the requested information after the sheriff returned his driver’s license. He placed the license in his wallet and returned the wallet to his left rear pants pocket while looking with apprehension toward the man on the sand.

So do they call you Charles, Charley, or Chuck?

They call me Charles. Some people call me other names. He chuckled at his little piece of self-deprecating humor. Most people call me Charles.

Are you married, Charles?

Yeah, my second wife Lydia and I got married twenty-six years ago. Long-time.

Yes, it is. Do you come here often to dig for clams?

I come on mornings when the tide is low. I allow other people to get some at high tide.

They appreciate that, I’m sure. Did you notice anyone else on the beach, stairs, or in the parking lot when you arrived?

No, I was the only one here, except for him of course.

As you drove in this morning, did you pass any vehicles coming in the other direction?

I can’t say I was paying attention to that. It’s possible I passed a car or two. I’m not sure, and doubt I could tell you what kind they were.

You noticed nothing unusual? You didn’t see any erratic driving, high speeds, or unusual behavior?

No, there was nothing strange until I walked onto the beach.

What vehicle are you driving this morning?

It’s the red Chevy SUV up in the parking lot. It’s what I always drive.

Did you recognize the deceased person when you looked at him?

No, I can’t recall seeing him before. Did the guy commit suicide?

We’ll need to wait for the medical examiner to determine how he died. It’s improper to speculate. Can I ask you to leave your bucket, clam gun, and everything else you brought this morning? I’ll also need your jacket, hat, and headlamp. We need to test your belongings to exclude you as a suspect. It’s a procedural requirement. You’ll get your stuff back when we’re done. Put everything you can into the bucket.

You think I’m a suspect?

I don’t have reason to believe that, but we need to be certain we verify everything and don’t make mistaken assumptions. I’m sure everything will turn out negative, but I need to test it. Just make sure you don’t touch it again before you leave. My goal is to exclude you as a suspect.

I won’t touch any of it. Keep it as long as you need.

As I said, you’ll get everything back after testing. I should warn you that low priority forensic testing often takes a few months. It may be awhile before you get your stuff back. That’s a nice clam gun you’ve got there.

Yeah, the stainless steel guns last longer than the PVC guns and they don’t rust like the painted metal ones. I’ve got a plastic one I made that I can use until I get my other gun back.

Okay. Well, we’re done this morning, Charles. We’ll contact you again if we have more questions. Thank you for calling this in and thank you for providing information about what you found. It’ll help us a lot. You’re free to head home now. When you leave, can you please walk in the wet sand near the water? We don’t want to disturb any existing footprints.

Thanks. Charles turned north to walk toward the steps. He thought of the disbelief on his wife’s face when he described finding a dead body on the beach. He quickened his pace so he could get home before she left for work.

As he climbed the steps toward the parking lot, he stepped aside to allow two sheriff’s officers to pass. They each carried an aluminum equipment box and made their way to the beach. They soon spotted the sheriff and strode in his direction on the wet sand.

The sheriff dismissed the two paramedics who waved to the approaching officers as the two groups passed one another.

Good morning, Bob, Shelly. We’ll need pictures of the body, the cliff face, any prints in the sand and anything else you find here. I want castings of the prints in the sand before the incoming tide washes them away. We’ll need pictures along the top of the cliff above the body. I don’t imagine we’ll see much, but trampled shrubbery, footprints, or drag marks above the body will require pictures and impressions.

Pointing to the clamming equipment the sheriff looked at Bob Colverson. We may need to analyze that clamming gear for any evidence. It’s from the clammer who found the body. I took it just in case. Don’t even send it in for testing unless the M.E. declares the death a homicide.

Shelly looked over the task before them and concluded it was routine. I’ll have the forensics people bag and tag this stuff and do the castings as soon as they get here. You suspect we’ll find his footprints on top of the cliff?

Sheriff Maclin shook his head from side to side while he pursed his lips. If there are footprints, they won’t only be his.

Bob looked somewhat surprised. How do you figure that? You consider the death a murder?

The deceased doesn’t look like he was homeless. The man who found the body didn’t notice any cars in the parking lot when he arrived. That means the victim didn’t drive out here by himself. I’m betting someone brought him and then pushed him off the cliff. It’s possible he walked in here on his own, but with such a remote site that seems unlikely. Without a car, I’m not inclined to believe it was suicide or just a simple accident in the dark. We should assume we’re dealing with a homicide.

Shelly opened the aluminum box she carried and removed the camera and the wide-angle lens. She mounted the flash attachment and photographed the clamming gear. The middle-aged detective then progressed with care toward the body as she took the various pictures suggested by the sheriff.

Bob retraced his path up the cliff steps and began to examine the top of the cliff edge above the body. He found no signs of disturbed vegetation, recent footprints, or signs of a struggle. He moved twenty feet on either side of the body to check for areas where someone might have gone over the edge. There were no obvious signs, but he called to Shelly to suggest she take pictures when she finished photographing near the body.

Bob then heard a car pull into the gravel lot and looked back to see the medical examiner wagon pull up near the steps. Bob walked toward the vehicle and waved as the medical examiner exited the vehicle. Good morning. Where do I need to go?

Bob pointed in the general direction of the steps. Good morning doctor. The sheriff is waiting for you on the beach. Be careful. The steps are steep and slippery this morning. Take it slow.

I will. Thanks. Dr. Bilman descended the steps and walked toward the sheriff, again walking along the wet packed sand. He approached the sheriff and nodded. Morning Carl, what is it this time?

Good morning. It looks like a homicide. It’s likely staged to appear like a suicide, but I doubt that’s what we’ve got.

Okay, let me go look. The medical examiner advanced toward the body, ensuring he did not disturb any of the existing footprints.

As he got closer, he asked Shelly to photograph a tape measure that showed the distance from the cliff face to the deceased man’s head. He requested additional close-up pictures of the upper torso. He was interested in the positions of the arms and neck. After Shelly had completed the pictures, the M.E. turned the head to check for any visible wounds. Dr. Bilman then returned to speak with the sheriff.

You’re right. This could be a homicide. I can tell you more after we determine time-of-death and I complete the autopsy.

What makes you feel it’s a likely homicide?

"I see two suspicious things. The first is the body orientation. Second is its distance from the cliff. That position suggests he walked there or someone placed him there rather than he fell from the cliff.

I don’t accept that someone pushed him either. He would fall further out if someone pushed him. I’d say he died here on the beach or someone placed him here after he had died.

The sheriff was skeptical of the placement theory. There are no drag marks in the sand coming from the water or the steps, so it seems unlikely someone brought him here unless they carried him. It’s beginning to sound as if he died where he lays. Do you have any idea regarding the cause of death?

He’s got a cut right ear and an abrasion and bruising on his right temple, but I don’t see any other injuries consistent with a fall. However, there could be other injuries under the clothing or his hair. I’ll need to do the autopsy before saying more.

You’ll have a challenge getting the body out of here. Those steps are steep. The sheriff did not envy his friend’s task.

I won’t use the steps. I’ll ask the Marine Unit to bring a boat in here and we’ll take him that way. It’ll be safer and we’re less likely to cause any additional injuries to the body. It’ll be cheaper than a helicopter. I’ll ask Melissa to arrange the boat before she comes to help.

Sheriff Maclin put his hands on his hips and took in a deep breath while scanning the rather calm Pacific Ocean. Well, it’s the start of another gorgeous day in Spulman County. I’ll leave the body in your capable hands.

The sheriff walked to the top of the cliff and then over to join Major Bob Colverson and Detective Shelly Foster. Did you find anything up here?

Major Colverson looked at the cliff edge then focused on the sheriff. No. I doubt he was up here but Shelly took pictures just in case.

Good. We need to tape off that part of the beach until the M.E. and forensics people finish. Also, notify me if he has any ID so we can talk to people. I’ll catch you in the office later.

Carl Maclin got into his command vehicle and headed toward the city of Bierman, the county seat. He stopped at the local bakery and picked up his customary hefty cinnamon roll and a large coffee. He drove to his office where he ate his breakfast while preparing for his long day.

Just after 9:30 AM, Major Robert Colverson tapped on the door to the sheriff’s office. Following a hand wave from the sheriff, Bob entered the office and sat in one of the office chairs.

The sheriff brushed a small pile of crumbs from the top of his desk and dumped them in a trashcan. I hear you got the ID for the guy on the beach.

"We believe so. His name was Chris Michelson. The M.E. identified him through his driver’s license and plans to confirm it with fingerprints. Dr. Bilman expects to have that confirmation in a few hours.

The man’s wife called in a missing person report on him twenty minutes ago, so we’re sure we have the right person.

Does anyone here recognize the name?

So far, nobody recognizes him. We need to go inform the wife and ask her questions. If the M.E. can’t confirm the fingerprints, then we’ll need her to provide the name of the dentist or view the body.

Do you want me to go along for the notification?

That would be good. If you’re busy, I can get someone else to come instead.

I’m free for a few hours.

Okay. No matter how many times I do this, I always dread it.

I hate it too. Does the wife work?

She does, but she told the dispatchers she’d stay home today in case her husband shows up.

There’s no use delaying it. I’m ready if you are.

Bob Colverson knocked on the screen door of the modest but elegant home and waited for the woman to answer. Hello, I’m Major Bob Colverson with the Spulman County Sheriff’s Department. You might recognize Sheriff Maclin. Are you Ellen Michelson?

Yes. Did you find my husband?

Can we talk to you inside for a few minutes?

Sure. Ellen held the screen door open so the two officers could enter. Once they were inside, she closed both doors and turned to look with apprehension at Bob. Have you found him?

I’m sorry to inform you we believe we found your husband deceased this morning.

Oh. God. No. This can’t be. Are you sure? It has to be someone else.

We’ll still need a positive-identification but we’re certain it’s Chris. He still had his ID with him.

Was he in a car accident? What happened? I have to sit.

Ellen sat on a chair and buried her face in her hands. She sobbed for several minutes before trying to regain her composure. The two officers felt awkward and disrespectful for standing so they found seats on the sofa.

The wife took several additional moments before she felt composed enough to speak. What happened? Where is he?

Sheriff Maclin let Bob ask the questions while the sheriff observed. Bob leaned forward as a conciliatory gesture. We’re still trying to determine what happened. A man found your husband’s body at the base of a cliff on Riddley Beach.

Ellen appeared surprised. What was he doing on that beach? That’s so weird. Why go up there?

Do you have any idea why your husband went to the beach?

No. I can’t remember him ever going to the beach. Did he drown?

"We’re still investigating what happened. Has your husband been acting unusual?

Unusual? No. He’s been normal. Are you thinking he killed himself? That’s not possible.

We’re exploring every possibility so we understand why he was there.

He shouldn’t be there at all. We never go up there.

Can I ask why you didn’t report him missing until after nine this morning?

I didn’t realize he hadn’t come home until this morning when I got up. Then I called his mom and some of our friends to see if he was there. After nobody knew where he was, I called for help. It’s not like him to not come home. Ellen’s face contorted again and she had to pause several minutes to get a handful of tissues.

After she returned to her seat, Bob proceeded with his questioning. We appreciate that this is difficult but we need to understand what happened as early as possible.

Ellen nodded her head as she wiped her eyes. Okay, I’ll try.

Thank you. You implied that your husband went out last evening. Where did he go?

It was bowling night. He’s in a Tuesday night league in Piermont. They bowl until around 10:30 and then they sometimes go to a bar for a while afterward. I don’t wait up for him and he tries to stay quiet when he comes home. I often don’t hear him come to bed.

What time did you go to bed?

I watched the 10 o’clock news then went to sleep.

What channel did you watch?

Twelve.

Do you remember who did the weather forecast?

It was that skinny brunette girl with the southern accent.

Bob took a few notes before continuing. Did your husband drive himself to the bowling alley?

He did.

What kind of vehicle did he drive?

He always drives his blue pickup. It’s a Ford F-150.

What year is it?

We bought it new earlier this year. Was he in the pickup?

No. The truck wasn’t nearby and we’re wondering if you have any idea where he might have left it?

Ellen waved her hands near her ears, causing her hair to bounce off the back of her neck. No. My mind is all foggy. Maybe he left it at the bowling alley or a bar. It wasn’t near the beach?

We haven’t found it yet. Did you keep valuables in the truck, or was the truck itself valuable?

It wasn’t cheap, but it wasn’t unusually valuable either. We never leave anything in the truck. The only thing he took was his bowling bag.

When we’re done here can you get us the license plate number and VIN?

Sure. It’ll take a few minutes to find it.

That’s fine. I assume you tried to call your husband this morning.

Yes. I’m sure I called him over ten times.

Can you give us a list of the other people you called?

Ellen handed her phone to Bob. They’re listed there in the call log.

Thank you. Bob handed the phone to Sheriff Maclin, who copied the names and numbers.

Bob returned to an earlier avenue of inquiry. Was your husband despondent? Was he having problems at work? Did he have financial worries?

No. There was nothing like that. He was his normal chipper self.

Were you two having any marital issues that might cause him to become depressed?

"We’ve always had a strong marriage. Believe me, he’d