This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental.
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Mark Stevens
I would like to welcome my previous as well as hopefully new readers back to enjoy this story. However, should you have not read any of the Porterville books before you should do so
- Porterville 2. Murder in Porterville 3. Silver Candlesticks
All three stories are stand alone, however, a lot of the same characters from the first book return for more adventures.
To my old readers: Welcome back. To my new ones, welcome aboard.
Chapter Ten
Britt was up early the next morning working on the outline for his latest book when his cell phone rang. The caller was Cory Manners, the detective from Little Rock, Arkansas.
Cory apologized for calling so early and asked if he could meet up with Britt sometime that day.
Britt assured the detective that he had been up for quite some time working on the outline of his book.
"Say, I've been hearing about you and the books you've written," Cory said. "I hear they are quite good," the detective ended with praise.
"You haven't been talking with my mother, have you?" Britt responded. "She's the only one around here that feels that way."
"I seriously doubt that," Cory disagreed. "Actually, it was Chief Poteet that sang your praises to me."
"He probably feels he has to since he's now joined our family."
Britt asked the detective why he wanted to meet with him.
"I'd rather talk with you face to face," Cory answered. "Tell me a good time and place to meet."
"Why don't you come out to the house?" Britt suggested. "Say in about an hour. That would give me time to finish what I'm working on."
Cory agreed on the time, and the two ended their conversation.
Britt went back to his outline and half an hour later he was satisfied with his work. He closed his laptop and left his office. He returned downstairs and headed for the kitchen. He found Edna cleaning after the breakfast meal. He greeted the woman with a warm smile.
"Edna, I have a visitor coming in half an hour. Would it be possible to have some fresh coffee?"
"Of course, Mr. Britt."
Britt returned to the living room and told his mother he was going to have a visitor.
"I can go upstairs," Catherine offered.
"No need," Britt assured his mother. "However, I will tell you my visitor is the detective from Little Rock. I don't see any reason why you should need to leave. Just promise me you won't become worried when we hear what the man has to say."
"Why should I worry?" his mother asked. "Do I have cause?"
"Nope, nothing to worry about. I promise."
A short time later the doorbell rang and Wallace was suddenly in the room announcing Cory Manner's arrival.
Britt greeted the man with a warm handshake. "Good to see you, Cory."
After greeting his guest, Britt introduced the detective to his mother.
"I'm glad to meet you, Mrs. Williams," Cory said and smiled.
Britt asked Wallace to have Edna bring in the coffee he had ordered.
Catherine welcomed the detective to Porterville and for a few minutes the conversation was of general nature. When Edna had served the hot beverage and left the room, Britt brought a halt to their talking.
"So tell me, Cory, what's on your mind?'
Cory looked over at Catherine sitting on the sofa. A look of doubt appeared on his face.
Britt quickly assured the detective that whatever he had to say, he could say it in front of his mother.
"As you know, I am here investigating the death of Jacob Crawley. I suppose you are wondering why I came all the way here from Little Rock.
"I worked for several years with Jerry Poteet before he retired. When Brian contacted his father about Crawley's death, Jerry gave me a call. He had done some checking and found out that Crawley had been a gardener employed by a woman that had died over thirty years ago. He knew I would be interested. You see, this woman, Grace Littlefield died back then, and for whatever reason, her death had never been determined to be an accident. It also hadn't been ruled as murder, either. At the time there was absolutely no clue as to what had happened concerning the lady's death.
"Jerry had never been satisfied at the way the case had turned out. Years later when I joined the force, he told me about the Littlefield case one day. Hearing what he had to say, I soon came to the same conclusion. But, since we had nothing to go on at the time, we more or less had to drop the ball."
"And now?" Britt asked when the detective paused.
"And now the department is willing to allow me to do some investigating."
"I'm assuming you think there may be a connection between Crawley's death and the Littlefield case?"
The detective took a sip from his coffee cup and said, "I think there's a good possibility."
From the sofa Catherine asked, "If this is so, then why was this Mr. Crawley in Porterville? More to the point, why do you think he ran me down?"
"Mom, I think nothing was intended for you," Britt told his mother. "I really think you just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time."
"I would have to agree with your son, Mrs. Williams," Cory said to Catherine.
Giving the detective one of her looks, Catherine said, "Let's get something straight here, Mr. Manners. If you are going to be involved with my son in any way, you must call me Catherine. Understood?"
The detective's face turned a shade of red, and then he said, "Very well, Catherine. Then I insist that you call me Cory. Both of you," the detective added as his eyes traveled from Catherine's face to her son's.
"Now that we have our first names addressed, what can I do to help you?" Britt asked.
Cory finished his coffee. He sat the cup and saucer on the table beside his chair. Looking across the room at Britt, he said, "I'm going back to Little Rock. I was wondering if you'd like to come with me. You see, Jerry has pulled some information up on Crawley. Actually he's located the man's residence. I'm going to go check it out. I'd like for you to accompany me. That is, if it's possible. I realize that you are a busy man."
Britt looked at his mother. He didn't speak.
"Britt Williams, don't look at me that way. I know what you want to do."
"You're giving me your permission?" Britt couldn't keep the smile from forming on his face.
"As if you need my permission," Catherine remarked.
"Will you not worry?"
"Don't embarrass me, Britt Williams." Catherine looked at Cory and said, "Take him. Please. He won't be satisfied if he doesn't go."
"When would you leave?" Britt asked the detective.
Cory looked at his watch. "I'd like to leave within the hour if you can be ready by then."
"Let me call Devon and fill him in on what the plan is," Britt said standing to his feet.
Cory also stood. "I have a couple of things to do, and then I'll be back to pick you up. Oh, and Britt, you might pack a duffle. We might not make it back tonight. It'll just depend on what we find out in Little Rock."
The detective left, and Britt went upstairs to pack his bag. At the same time he gave Devon a call and told him what the plan was.
"You don't mind if I go, do you?" Britt asked after explaining the reason for the trip.
"Of course not," Devon assured him. "I'll try and make an early day of it and leave the office. That way, I can be there with Catherine. Speaking of your mom, is she alright with you helping Cory?"
"She is. In fact, she told Cory to take me with him. She knows how much I want to go."
"You just want to gather some information for another book. I know what your reasoning is," Devon teased.
"Well, that, too. Still, if I can help Cory, then perhaps we'll discover why the Crawley guy was going so fast he could have hurt Mom a lot worse than he did."
"I agree. No one can hurt Catherine and get away with it," Devon declared.
When Britt explained that he might not be back home until the following day, Devon assured him it was not a problem. "Like I said, I'll plan on being on hand for Catherine. Have a safe trip, Love."
"Thanks. And thanks for being here with Mom. I love you, Babe. I'll give you a call this evening, especially if I have to spend the night in Little Rock."
Britt quickly threw some things together, and by the time Cory was there to pick him up, he was standing at the door with his bag and laptop.
Catherine had left the sofa and slowly made her way into the foyer. She gave her son a kiss on the cheek.
"Take care of yourself," she said.
"I will, Mom. Devon's hoping to leave work early this afternoon. He wants to spend some time with you."
"He doesn't have to babysit me," Catherine declared.
"No, he doesn't. And he's not," Britt added. "He loves you, Mom. He wants to take care of you. Face it, you now have two sons."
"Not two," Catherine told her son. "I have three sons and one daughter. Don't you dare overlook Brian and Alice."
"Never," Britt said giving his mother one last kiss. "Cory's here."
"Just promise to be careful," Catherine said and watched her son walk out the door.
Always the mother, Catherine sighed and made her way back to the sofa. Even though she had told Britt she wouldn't worry, Catherine knew better. After all, that's what a mother does. It was her job to worry until her child was safely back home.
Chapter Eleven
When they reached the west side of Little Rock, the detective handed his cell phone to Britt and told him to give Jerry Poteet a call.
"You'll find his number on my phone," he told Britt.
Britt took the phone, and when he found the man's number, he punched the call button.
A moment later, Britt said, "Hey, Jerry, Britt here. We've just made it to town. Where are we supposed to go?"
Brian's father gave Britt the address where they could meet him. When Britt repeated the information, Cory explained they were heading for North Little Rock.
They travelled for a time. When the exit for North Little Rock came up, Cory took it and headed north. He drove for a time and then turned right on a side road.
"Jerry should be somewhere in this apartment parking lot," Cory said.
About half way down the parking lot they saw Jerry Poteet. The man was leaning against a Ford pickup. He walked over and stood beside Cory's parked vehicle.
Brian's father greeted both men with a smile. Then turning to Britt, he said, "Thanks for coming with Cory, Britt."
"Glad to be of help if I can," Britt told the former police officer.
"Do we know anything new?" Manners asked.
"Nothing yet," Jerry answered. "I was just given the search warrant this morning. Since I no longer work for the department, I was told that I had to wait until you were back in town, Cory."
"I take it this is where Crawley lived," Britt said.
"This is the address we found," Jerry answered.
The three men went into the office, and Jerry showed the manager his search warrant. Cory showed the man behind the counter his badge and asked the clerk for the key to Jacob Crawley's apartment.
The manager looked at the piece of paper and immediately turned to a side desk. He picked up a book and flipped through some pages. Then putting the book back down on the desk, the man walked over to a cabinet on the wall. He opened it up and reached for a key.
The clerk handed the key to Cory and said, "Two fourteen. On the other side of the building."
Britt and Cory got into Jerry's truck. He drove them around to the other side of the building where they began looking for the right apartment.
"There it is," Britt suddenly called out.
Jerry pulled into a parking slot. The three men got out of the truck and headed for a staircase. At the top, they read the numbers on the doors and headed in the right direction.
Stopping in front of a door marked two fourteen, Cory inserted the key and turned the knob. The door opened easily, and suddenly the three men were standing inside a silent room.
"It appears Crawley wasn't too keen on housekeeping," Britt remarked looking around the room.
Cory said, "Let's check really close. We need to determine if this is actually how the man left the place or if someone has been here looking for something."
After looking closer, all three agreed they were just looking at a messy apartment and most likely no one had been there searching for anything.
Britt began his search in earnest. He decided to start with Crawley's bedroom. He found an unmade bed with clothes lying on top of rumpled sheets. Clothes were tossed on the floor as well as on the bed and a chair by a window.
"Damn, the man was messy," Britt said out loud.
Britt's search of the room turned up nothing but a photograph on one of the bedside tables. He picked the picture up and studied it. A woman and young boy looked back at him from the picture frame. Judging by their clothes, especially the woman's, Britt guessed the picture must be thirty or forty years old. The boy looked to be about eighteen or nineteen.
Britt carried the photograph with him back into the living room.
"I didn't discover anything in the bedroom that looked important. This picture was on a table beside the bed. Do you guys have any idea who the people might be?"
Cory took the picture and looked at it. When they had met Jerry, the former police officer had given Cory a file. The detective opened the folder and searched through some papers.
"Okay, according to what's in the file, I would say this is a picture of Martha Bennett and her nephew. The nephew being Jacob Crawley."
Britt whistled. "What the hell?"
"It seems that not only are the two related, but they both worked for Grace Littlefield thirty years ago. Bennett was the woman's housekeeper and cook and Crawley, the woman's nephew, was gardener for Littlefield."
"I can't understand why Crawley was in Porterville," Britt said. "And why the hell he was driving so fast he could have killed my mother."
"Shit," Cory said. "According to what I'm reading, Jacob Crawley came to live with Martha Bennett when he was fourteen. His parents were killed in an automobile accident. His aunt finished raising him."
"Which is probably why he ended up working for the Littlefield woman," Jerry remarked. "His aunt must have already been working for the her. No doubt Littlefield knew the boy through his aunt. That must be the connection."
In the living room was a wooden desk. It contained three drawers on each side.
"Let's check these out," Cory said.
Each man took a drawer and began going through its contents. Britt didn't find anything of importance in his first drawer. He returned it to the desk and reached for one on the other side. He began his search once more. He was beginning to think he wasn't going to find anything in this drawer either. He had reached the end of the drawer when he came to a thick folder. A wide rubber band secured the folder to keep the contents from falling out.
Britt removed the rubber band and opened the folder. He began reading the documentation.
"This is interesting," Britt said. He handed the folder to Cory.