Murder Outside Haneyville by Gary Whitmore - HTML preview

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Chapter 7

 

An hour had passed since Jodi met Donovan at his Buick outside the front entrance of the motel.

Jodi got inside her Honda and drove off from the Motel 6.

Donovan got inside his Buick and drove off from the Motel 6.

While Jodi drove her Honda through the streets of Haneyville, some of the sights gave her strong déjà vu feelings. 

Then déjà vu feelings came back when she drove down Addison Avenue located in the residential area of Haneyville. It was located in the northeastern side of Lake Haney.

The vast majority of these homes were built during the 1940s when Haneyville started to become boomtown after the plant was built. The houses were single-story ranch style with front porch and single car garage.

 While she drove down Addison Avenue, Jodi could not figure out why she felt like she had been down this street before.

She pulled her car into the driveway of Ernie’s home located off of Addison Avenue. That déjà vu feeling got stronger the second she glanced at the front of the white-painted home with black shutters.

Jodi turned off her engine and got out of her SUV.

She stood by her car door and got a warm feeling throughout her body while she glanced at Ernie’s quaint home.

She walked over to the front door and rang the doorbell. She waited.

A few seconds passed, and the front door opened. Ernie appeared. “Are you Miss Lauder?” he asked.

Jodi was speechless for a few seconds while she stared at Ernie in a bit of a trance. She had this weird feeling of Ernie being a younger and vibrant man. She snapped out her trance then remembered he asked her a question. “Yes, you can call me Jodi,” she replied.

“Please come inside, Jodi,” Ernie said then he stepped aside to allow her to enter his home.

Jodi stepped inside his home.

Ernie closed his front door then glanced at Jodi. There was something familiar with her. “Have we met before? I got this feeling we’ve met before,” he asked.

Jodi looked at Ernie, and she had the same feeling. “No sir, this is my first time down here in Haneyville. Unless you’ve been up in Lexington,” she replied.

Ernie thought for a few seconds. “I was up in Lexington oh, about six years ago,” he said and hoped his memory was correct.

“Maybe our paths crossed up there on the streets?”

“Maybe,” he said but had this strange feeling about her. But it was a good feeling.

“Would you like some coffee while we chat?” he offered.

“That would be nice.”

“Let me go make a fresh pot,” Ernie said then he walked through the living room and headed into the kitchen. 

“Make your self at home, Jodi,” he called out from the kitchen while he started to make a pot of coffee.

While Ernie made the coffee, Jodi saw numerous photos of Ernie, Kathy, and Tiffany in framed pictures hanging on the wall above the stone fireplace.

She walked over to those photos and started checking them out. 

Meanwhile, Donovan parked his Buick out in front of the Haneyville Police Station.

He got out of his car and glanced at the one-story brick building. He saw that it had a 1978 carving in stone above the glass door front entrance. The original Sheriff’s office was built out of wood in 1924 and burnt down to the ground in 1977. This was the replacement building made from concrete blocks with brick exterior.

Donovan headed to the front door then went inside.

Once he got inside the police station, he saw a small counter and two desks in a small area. 

Off to the right was a closed door with the “Sherriff Rock Riley” sign to the left of the door.  To the right of the door hung a “No Smoking” sign on the wall.

Deputy Kent Riley worked on some paperwork behind his desk.

The other desk was where Deputy Andrew Barker occupied. But he was out patrolling the streets of Haneyville at the moment.

Kent looked up from his paperwork and saw Donovan behind the counter. “How can I help you?” he said while he got up from his desk and headed over to Donovan.

“I’m Donovan Kirby a reporter from the Florida Today newspaper down in Melbourne, Florida.”

“What brings you to our neck of the woods?”

“I’m up here to do a story on the discovery of that nineteen sixty-two Buick found in Lake Haney and those two missing teenagers,” Donovan replied.

“A story about Tiffany Carlson and Howie Anderson. Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe some other readers out there will read it and provide information about their whereabouts,” Donovan replied.

“Okay. Well, I wasn’t born when they disappeared, so I know nothing about them.  My dad was a deputy back in those days. He’s not here at the moment. He took my mom down to Knoxville for a little shopping,” said Kent.

“I was hoping I could maybe see that Buick pulled out of the lake.”

“Sure, I don’t see why not,” Kent said then he walked over and motioned for Donovan to come around behind the counter.

After Donovan went behind the counter, he followed Kent to the rear door of the station.

Kent and Donovan stepped outside and into the fenced back area of the police station. 

Donovan saw the rusty and muddy 1962 Buick Special parked alone in the fenced area.

“Are the divers still searching the lake?” Donovan asked while walking over to the Buick.

“They searched a good bit of the lake but called it off after finding nothing,” replied Kent while he walked over to Donovan.

Donovan walked around the car looking it over and started to get another déjà vu feeling.

“Do you have any theories what might have happened to Tiffany or Howie?” he asked while he peeked inside the driver’s door window.

“We still believe they are living up in Canada.”

“I wonder how come they never contacted anybody since the seventies?” Donovan curiously asked.

“I guess they wanted to separate their lives from this place,” replied Kent.

“I wonder why?”

“People can be strange at times,” replied Kent.

“I guess,” said Donovan then he looked inquisitive while he peeked back inside the car. “Can I check out the inside?” he asked.

“That’s not a good idea. The Sheriff gave me orders not to let anybody inside that car,” replied Kent.

Donovan looked at Kent and saw he was serious but really wanted to check out the inside of the car. “Thanks, deputy,” he said then walked away from the car.

Kent escorted Donovan to the rear door of the Sheriff’s office.

Back at Ernie’s home, he and Jodi sat on his couch in the living room drinking coffee.

“I still remember the last time I saw my sweet Tiffany,” Ernie said then he took a drink of coffee. He paused for a few seconds then started to tell her about that day.

In Ernie’s story, it was back to Thursday, August 20th, 1970. 

It was the early evening, and he had his white 1964 Ford Galaxy with red interior parked in the driveway. He just rinsed off his car with the garden hose when Tiffney bolted out of the front door.

“Bye daddy,” Tiffney said while she rushed through the front yard to her 1962 Buick Special parked out along the street.

“Where you going?” Ernie asked while he turned off his hose.

“To the drive-in with Howie then who knows afterward,” she said while she stopped in the front yard and looked at him.

“Don’t get home way too late,” he said while he reached in a bucket and grabbed the sponge that had been soaking in the soapy water.

“I won’t tell daddy,” Tiffany said then she ran over to her car and got behind the wheel. She started up the engine then drove off down the street, tooting her horn.

While Ernie soaped the hood of his Galaxy, he eyed Tiffany’s Buick while she drove off down the street.

Back in his living room, Ernie’s eyes welled up a bit while he thought about that evening. 

“That was the last time I saw my daughter,” he said, then wiped away a few tears.

Jodi looked at Ernie and felt so sad for him. “You never heard from Tiffany? I mean, the thought is that they ran off to Canada,” she said.

“I never heard a word after that night,” he said and stared at one of Tiffany’s pictures that hung on the wall. “My wife Kathy passed five years ago due to cancer. I’m glad she’s not around to see Tiffany’s car after it was pulled from the lake,” he said then he looked over at Jodi.  “I wonder if Tiffany is a journalist up in Canada? That’s the career path she wanted to take after high school.”

“She wanted to become a journalist?” Jodi said while she looked in Ernie’s eyes.

“Yep,” he replied, then his eyes widened when he thought about something. “Let me show you something,” he said then stood up.

Jodi stood up then followed Ernie out of the living room and down the hallway.

He stopped at a closed door. He opened it, and Jodi saw that it was Jodi’s bedroom. 

“I left her room the same way it was in nineteen seventy. I don’t have the heart to change it,” he said, then stepped inside the room.

Jodi looked around the room, and it was your typical teen girls bedroom. 

There was a record player on the dresser.

On the one wall were posters of Janis Joplin, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, and Davey Jones of the Monkees.

Jodi glanced around the bedroom and had another déjà vu feeling. For some strange reason, this bedroom felt homey to her.

“I left it like this in case she came home, but now that they found her car in the lake, I don’t think she’ll ever come home. I might move her stuff out in the future,” he said then he headed off to the door.

Jodi walked out of the bedroom then Ernie closed the door.

“I now have this gut feeling that something horrible happened to my Tiffany. It started gnawing at the pit of my gut after they found her car in the lake,” he said while he walked Jodi down the hallway.

Jodi glanced back down the hallway at Tiffany’s closed bedroom door. She started to have that same feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Let me show you some family photos,” Ernie told Jodi while he walked her back to the couch in the living room.

While Jodi saw the family pictures of Tiffany when she was a young girl, she kept on getting these strange déjà vu feelings.

Meanwhile, Donovan pulled his Buick into the driveway of George and Betsy Anderson’s home located off Forge Valley Avenue.

He got out of his car. He got another déjà vu feeling while he looked at the home.

He headed over to the front door and rang the doorbell. He waited.

The front door opened, and George appeared. “You that fellow from that newspaper down in Florida who called me?”

“Yes sir, I’m Donovan Kirby.”

“Please come inside,” George said while he stepped aside to allow Donovan to enter his home.

Donovan stepped inside, and George closed the front door.

“Please have a seat,” George said while he motioned at the couch.

Donovan walked over and sat down on the couch with George.

“My wife Betsy is out shopping down in Knoxville for the afternoon. She does this once a month with her sister. She really doesn’t like talking about Howie, as it makes her cry.”

“I understand and don’t want to upset anybody,” said Donovan.

“I guess I can start with the last time I saw my son,” George said while he stared down at the carpet.

In George’s memory, it was evening on Thursday, August 20th, 1970. He pushed his lawnmower across the front yard.

Tiffany drove up in her 1962 Buick Special and parked along the street in front of the house. She tooted the horn.

The front door opened and Howie ran outside.

George turned off his lawnmower. “Don’t stay out too late, Howie.”

“I won’t paw,” Howie said while he ran across the front yard.

“Hello Mister Anderson,” Tiffany called out while she stepped out of her car and looked over the roof.

“Hey Tiffany,” George said then he pulled the cord and restarted his lawnmower.

Howie got in the front passenger seat of Tiffany’s car.

She tooted the horn at George while she drove off down the street.

George sat there after recalling that memory. He looked at Donovan. “And that’s the last time I saw my son,” said George while his eyes welled up.

“Do you believe that the two are living up in Canada?”

George looked at Donovan. “No. He would have contacted me by now. My gut tells me something happened to them that August night,” he said and looked serious.

“Did the Sheriff do any kind of investigation into their disappearance?”

“He said he did, but I feel he did nothing. He felt they ran off to Canada and would not believe any other possible scenarios.”

“I wonder why they would want to run up there?”

George wanted to provide an answer but decided he better keep his mouth shut. His eyes welled up while he thought about his son.

Donovan could sense that George was getting upset, so he got up off the couch. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. I better go now.”

George got up off the couch and escorted Donovan to his front door. 

After Jodi left Ernie’s home, she headed off to the police station.

After meeting with Kent, he took her out in the fenced-off back area.  She walked around and looked at Tiffany’s rusty and muddy Buick.

“I had another reporter here a little while ago. Said he was from Florida,” Kent told Jodi while she glanced at the driver’s door window. “Oh really,” she said and could care less while she checked out the inside of the car.

Jodi looked over at Kent. “Do you believe those two are hiding up in Canada at this moment?”

“That’s what my daddy says, I wasn’t born when they were here, so, I don’t know,” he said.

Jodi looked at Kent then back at the car. She got another déjà vu feeling while she stared at the car. But this time the feeling was followed by a little sharp pain in her chest. The pain left within seconds. She shrugged it off.

“Thank you, deputy,” she said, then headed off toward the rear door of the office.

Kent walked off and followed Jodi into the police station.