Part 6 (1/2)

CHAPTER 20.

”Mike, how many acres is this property? It seems like it goes for quite a ways,” Brad asked as he and Mike started walking toward the shack.

”I think it's about one hundred and fifty acres. My great-grandparents bought it around the turn of the century. They owned a couple of gold mines in the area, but when those dried up, they bought this property and began to raise cattle on it. When Aunt Agnes and Uncle Max took it over, they not only had cattle, they had quite a few horses and about every other animal that you'd find on a farm. I remember having fresh eggs for breakfast that my aunt had collected from the henhouse that morning. The two of them were pretty self-sufficient. They had their own water from the dammed up stream, meat from the animals, fruit from the orchards, and fresh produce from those two greenhouses you can see over there. Aunt Agnes had a real green thumb. They always had fresh vegetables and fruit. I suppose it many ways it was an idyllic life.”

”Well, it's always been my dream to grow my own fruits and vegetables and have a lot of animals,” Brad said. ”I feel so much more alive when I'm outside and communing with nature than I do when I'm locked in my cubicle of an office listening to people tell me their problems. Don't get me wrong, I really care about my patients, but if I had a choice, believe me, my choice would be to spend my life outdoors.”

”I suppose you can take comfort in the fact that you have a successful practice, and you're good at what you do. Look over there. You can see the stream and the little shack right beside it. That's where Gary lives.” He told Brad about playing cowboy there when he was a young boy and visiting his aunt and uncle.

”Let's stop here for a minute. I want to see if we can hear any sounds coming from the shack. I can see Gary's motorcycle, and I find that a little strange.”

Brad turned towards him. ”Why is that strange?”

”Well, my aunt talked about how he rode it in the middle of the night, and it woke her up. I also heard it when I first drove into town night before last. Why it's strange is that I haven't heard it once since then. He must not have left the shack since Kelly and I got here. Okay, let's walk on over to the front of the shack, and I'm going to knock on the door. I don't see a lock, and I couldn't find a key. Why don't you stand behind me? I'd like you to keep your gun drawn, because I really don't know what to expect.”

They walked through the undergrowth to the cabin, and Mike knocked on the door. There was no sound from within, and no one came to the door. He knocked again, loudly, and said in a loud voice, ”Gary, it's Agnes' nephew, Mike Reynolds. Please open up.”

Again, there was nothing. He quietly said to Brad, ”I'm going in. Keep me covered. Something doesn't seem right.”

He opened the door and yelled, ”Oh no!” Brad was right behind him. They both looked in shock at the man on the floor, lying in a pool of blood, a gun in his hand. ”Mike, it looks like he's committed suicide.”

”Yes, it does. Don't touch anything. Did you bring a phone?”

”Here,” Brad said, handing it to Mike who called 911 and explained to the dispatcher what they had found. She said the police would be there shortly.

”Brad, I've got to call Kelly and tell her what's happened. She's going to freak out if police cars come roaring up the lane.” He called her and told her about Gary and asked her to point the police in the direction of the shack.

”Mike, I think you might want to look at this.” Brad said, handing him a piece of paper which Mike quickly scanned.

”It's a suicide note,” Mike said. ”He says he couldn't take it anymore, and that he was afraid he'd hurt somebody. It says to look at the newspaper article next to the note. It will explain what he's been going through.” Mike walked over to the table where Brad had found the note and saw the newspaper article. He quickly scanned it and said, ”It's about a man who was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. Gary must have thought he had the same thing. That would explain the screaming that Aunt Agnes heard coming from here. Poor guy. I feel sorry for him.”

Mike heard voices and recognized one of them as being Chief Robbins' voice. He walked out of the shack. ”Well, Chief, two deaths in the two days since I've been here. Not a very good track record, I admit, and we're still no closer to discovering who killed Aunt Agnes. If it was Gary, we'll never know.”

”Mike, you know the drill. Tell me everything you can.”

An hour later, the chief said, ”Go on back to the house. I imagine you have a few things to do before the service this afternoon. I'm going to copy this note and send it, along with the Judge's signature, to my friend in Sacramento who's the handwriting expert.”

”Chief, would you hold off? I think I'll have another one for you a little later. Might as well send them all in at once.”

”Want to tell me about it?”

”I will later. If you would hold those two for now, I'd appreciate it.”

”No problem. I'll be at the house after the service. If you have it, I can pick it up then.”

”Thanks,” Mike said, looking at Gary's body as it was being loaded into the rear of the coroner's van. ”Poor guy. Served his country and then his life ends in this little run-down shack. I can't help but think he wound up ending his life because our country never adequately took care of the men we sent to Vietnam. Maybe if he'd gotten some proper mental health care for his condition his life would have been different.” He sadly shook his head from side to side, and then he and Brad quietly walked back to the house.

CHAPTER 21.

”Mike, did Gary really commit suicide?” Kelly asked when he'd returned to the house and told her the details of what he and Brad had found at the shack.

”Yes. He left a note saying he couldn't take it anymore, and he was afraid he was going to hurt somebody. The note said the newspaper article that was next to it would explain what he'd been going through. Evidently he suffered from paranoid schizophrenia, or at least thought he did. The note didn't indicate whether it was a self-diagnosis or if he'd actually been diagnosed with that condition by a professional.”

”Interesting that he wrote he was afraid he was going to hurt somebody. What do you make of that?”

”I don't know. I suppose it's quite possible he was the one who murdered Aunt Agnes. The note he left indicates he was afraid he was going to hurt somebody. Maybe if he did murder her he was afraid he would do it again. That could have been the motive for his decision to take his own life. We'll know more after the handwriting a.n.a.lyst examines his writing to see if there's a match to the letters Aunt Agnes received. If there's no match from him, but if there is a match with one of the others, that will be interesting information.”

”What's this about a handwriting a.n.a.lyst?” Kelly asked.

”The chief is going to send a copy of the suicide note and the judge's handwriting to a friend he has in Sacramento who is with the Department of Justice to see if the handwriting on either one matches the letters that were sent to Aunt Agnes. I told him I was expecting to get one more sample of handwriting I'd like to have a.n.a.lyzed and asked him to hold off sending it to Sacramento until later today. Has John been here yet?”

”Yes. He was here about half an hour ago and left an envelope for you. He asked me to tell you he understands it will be a few days before you can get back to him and respond to his offer to buy the Robertson Ranch. Here it is.” She handed him a large manila envelope.

Mike's eyes widened as he read the offer John had submitted to buy the ranch. ”Wow. This property is worth a whole lot more than I thought. He's offering me two million for the ranch acreage, plus an additional two million for the Robertson House.”

”You're kidding! If he's willing to offer you that much, I wonder what the developer will offer for it. That's a lot of money to turn down. Looks like you're going to have to make some tough decisions pretty soon.”

”I didn't expect any of this. I really never thought about who might get the ranch when Aunt Agnes died or what might happen to it. I'm going to do something I learned to do long ago when I was dealing with very difficult cases. When I started out with the Sheriff's Department, the sheriff told me I should compartmentalize things in my mind. In other words I should do the most obvious thing at that moment and put the other things on hold. In my mind I've always referred to it as a 'NMOT' which stands for the next most obvious thing. It's really helped me from getting sidetracked during an investigation and spending a lot of wasted time on less important things. Guess the NMOT now is Aunt Agnes' funeral. How about making me a little lunch and then we probably better go to the church and get this thing over with?”

”Couldn't help but overhear that, Mike,” Julia said. ”That's something I'm capable of doing. I'll make lunch, and we can all go together when we leave for the funeral. Brad rented a van for our drive over from San Francisco, so there's plenty of room.” A few minutes later she called out, ”Lunch is ready, and I'm serving it on the porch. I could use a couple of hands to help me carry everything out there.”

The two young girls ate quickly and asked to be excused so they could go see Missy in the barn. When they were out of earshot, Brad said, ”I think we need to say something to the girls about Gary's death, but I'm just not sure what. I'm afraid they'll hear something when people come to the house after the funeral. There's bound to be a lot of talk about it, and I imagine a few people will step outside and try to take a look at the shack.”

”I agree,” Julia said. ”I'll just tell them it was very sad that Grandpa and Dad found a man who had died when they were on their walk this morning. That should satisfy them. I think they're far more interested in Missy and Sam. When I get them dressed, I'll mention it, which it's about time to do right now.”

”Julia, Brad, I'll clean up while you're getting the girls ready. Mike, why don't you take a shower, and I'll be up in a few minutes to get dressed,” Kelly said.

”Thanks, there's something about death that always makes me feel unclean, but you know that,” Mike said.

”Yes, exactly why I suggested it. I suppose the silver lining is that you don't have to get into some sort of confrontation trying to get Gary to leave the shack.”

”No, he took care of that for me,” Mike said, as he started to walk up the stairs.