Chapter 10

Monday, May 10^th, 2023

6PM

“It was rash to take Fraiser and Jenkins off the case,” Judge Matthews admonished Coleridge.

“I know,” she said.

“Why did you?”

Coleridge was reluctant to answer, and Sylvia came to her rescue. “Bill, I don’t think that’s something she wants to discuss with us.”

Bill wanted her to face what she’d done, but he was willing to drop the matter for the moment.

“You should talk to the Anchorage judge about it,” he told her.

“I’m afraid he won’t be willing to reinstate them right now,” she confessed.

At that moment, Mage’s phone rang, and excused herself. A moment later, they could hear her answer it from the kitchen.

“So why won’t the judge reinstate them?” Bill asked.

“He doesn’t think someone related to the case should be working on it.”

“Can’t the chief put you on some other case?” Bill asked Fraser and Jenkins.

“Well,” Fraiser explained, “The chief is my wife and Lisa’s sister. She’s been suspended too.”

“Where’s this guy get off suspending you?” Chet exploded. “Does he even have the authority?”

“He doesn’t really,” Fraiser said, “but he’s buddies with the rest of the judges in the area, and if we don’t play ball, he’ll make it rough. Which means, they’ll make it rough. So, our superiors play ball.”

Bill Matthews had been a judge for a long time, and he looked ready to explode, but he held it together.

“So he’s gonna convict Bruce one way or another,” Bill growled.

“Actually, no,” Coleridge said. “He’s a fair judge. He just wants to keep everyone fair. That’s how he’s managed to keep his job for so long.”

“Doesn’t sound fair to me. I think I’m gonna pay him a visit. This is ridiculous. This is beyond ridiculous! If you’re gonna be fair, you’re fair to everyone. Is he in the courthouse?”

“Judge Matthews,” Brad said, holding up his hand. “Before you do that…”

Bill looked at the young man surprised. “Yes?”

Fraiser took over and explained. “If I’m reinstated, I have to go by the book, Sir. I won’t be able to do anything to help my brother.”

“Do you have reason to suspect that your coworkers won’t do their best, and fairly, for Bruce?”

“That’s not it, Judge. Bruce and I grew up separately. I mean in separate households. We didn’t know we were brothers for a long time, even though we were in the same high school. We were friends, sure, but once we found out that we were actually brothers... I decided that he’d always be able to count on me, even if our parents weren’t honest with us.”

“So this is your way of keeping that promise?”

“He’d do the exact same for me.”

“That’s commendable, son. But I know Bruce. I don’t think he’d want you to give up your job.”

Fraiser nodded. “Probably not, but it’s not his choice. It’s mine. And you know good and well that he’d do the same thing for me.”

The judge slowly nodded his head. “So you're going to investigate, along with my family here,” he indicated the rest in the room, “to make sure Bruce is given the full courtesy of an impartial investigation?”

“You got it.”

“And what if it shows he’s guilty? Even with an impartial investigation?”

“It won’t, Judge.”

Matthews gave a sympathetic smile. “I understand, Ron. But what if it does?”

Ron Fraiser sat still for about a minute, looking towards his feet. He moved around in his chair uncomfortably, then finally, in a very quiet voice, said, “I’ll cross that bridge when -- If -- I come to it.”

Matthews nodded.

-=#=-

When Marcia went to answer the phone, she found French on the other end. He had informed his doctors that he was fine, and he was leaving. They argued, but in the end, his decision was final. He didn’t have to stay if he didn’t want to.

He’d called his office and found out that Coleridge was still at the farm, so he called the farm to see if he could get a ride from her.

Mage said nothing about any keys missing, but said that she’d come and get French. The agent said nothing, but wondered why she would pick him up.

Marcia and Coleridge went along with Mage to the hospital and when they collected French, he had to admit to himself, it was nice being in a vehicle with three very attractive women. If only Coleridge acted as nice as she looked.

“How come you all came to pick me up?” he asked.

“You have... well, had the keys to the SUV,” Coleridge told him, looking back from the front passenger seat.

“Didn’t you...?” He just shook his head. “Why didn’t you get the extra set?” he finally asked her.

Marcia was curious as to why she hadn’t gotten a spare set, but she was also frustrated with French. He wasn’t making things any easier for Brandy. When did I start thinking of her as Brandy? she wondered.

“Well, I do want to thank you for helping me out there,” he said. “I wasn’t in too great a shape. You probably saved my life.”

“I didn’t want to lose you,” Brandy said. Then, to cover her tracks, she added, “You’re a great partner.”

“Thanks,” French said, and looked out the window.

Marica had had enough. “Do you not get it!?” she almost yelled at French. “Why must men be so stupid sometimes!?”

“Marcia,” Brandy said loudly. “It’s okay!”

But, French was a good investigator, and knew how to read emotions, and things left unsaid. He slowly turned his head to face Coleridge, who was looking back at him intently. Her face turned crimson, and she turned away -- but not before Greg French understood everything.

-=#=-

French and Coleridge arrived at the farm early the next morning. Fraiser and Marcia were working in the barn, and the two agents made their way to the main door and stopped there. “Agents French and Coleridge requesting permission to enter!” French called out to Fraiser.

Ron Fraiser looked to the door, and saw them. From what Coleridge said the night before, he understood a bit more about the agent, but he still didn’t like her. “Come on in,” he told French. He knew that his invite included Coleridge too, but he didn’t see any way of excluding her without being completely rude, and he was determined to not be that way.

“We’ve found out some things about the body,” the female agent told him.

“And what's that?” Fraser asked, barely containing his distaste.

Coleridge sighed. She knew she’d brought it on herself, so she’d have to live with it. “It's a Caucasian male, around 35 to 37 years old. We haven't got an ID yet, but working on it. Died around the same time as Lisa.”

“How?” Ron asked.

“That's pending.”

Ron flipped over a pail sitting nearby and sat down. This didn't look at all good for Bruce. “The age fits Gerry,” he said quietly.

French didn't say anything. All his training said to let Fraiser continue his thought. Coleridge, however, spoke despite the same training. “I understand what you're saying, Detective. Let us handle it, okay? You know what I'm saying, right?”

“Of course, I d...” Something in her expression made him stop the tirade he was preparing to unleash.

Greg French then said something unexpected. “I'd like to speak to you off the record. You too, Miss Chatham.” Marcia had been quietly tending to Tigger, but it was apparent she had heard every word when she turned immediately at his address. “Off the record, this doesn't feel right. We have to go where the evidence leads, or appears to lead. You don't. I can't... we can't get away with gut feelings, as you well know.”

Fraiser looked at Coleridge, who oddly, seemed interested in her nail polish. She'd actually turned away from them and was busily filing at one of her nails. Apparently, ignoring what was being said.

“What are you saying?” Ron asked, hoping to get a bit more clarification.

Coleridge turned back at that, and glared at Fraiser. “According to our training, Detective, we can't want you to investigate. You are someone who's only motive is to prove his brother innocent. That's all you want to do, therefore we can't want you to be involved. Am I clear?”

Something in the way she said the word detective wasn't a dig that he wasn't one anymore. Instead, it was a reminder that he was still a detective. And a very good one at that.

“Yes, Agent. You are very clear.”

“Good,” she said. “On the record, I want to say we can't stop you from thinking about the case, or even investigating on your own. If we find any evidence that you've been at a crime scene, we will have to order you to cease and desist, understood? Clearly understood?”

He was shocked at what she was suggesting! He wouldn't have ever expected it but looking at French for confirmation, he received a nod.

“I understand very clearly, Agent,” he replied.

“Good,” she said. “anything pertinent you think of, or uncover as you mull this over, we'll expect you to share with us immediately, clear?” she was no longer glaring. It was as if she was suddenly laying out the guidelines for a friendly handshake bargain.

He gave a small smile, and replied, “Crystal.”

“Then there's no real reason for us to wish you good luck in any investigation, is there?”

“No ma’am,” French said. “no real reason at all.”

It was the final sign that they all understood each other. There was no request for help, and there was no statement that Fraiser would offer any. The main stipulation Brandy had placed was if they looked at an official crime scene, make dang sure they didn't disturb it.

Marcia was a witness that the agents had actually forbade him from interfering, but Fraiser had no doubt she understood all that was said. She was too sharp not to.

“As a courtesy,” French said as they turned to go, “we’ll keep you apprised.”

“Thank you, Agents,” Ron said as they headed back to their SUV.”

“I wish we could bid you the same,” Coleridge called over her shoulder.

“Shi…”

“Uh uh,” Marcia said to Fraiser. “You know what Mage says about swearing on the property.”

“Yeah, I do, Marcia. But honestly, this occurrence needs a four-letter-word or two.”

-=#=-

The family of Chatham, Johnson, and Matthews, plus Fraiser and Brad Jenkins, sat around a restaurant table in downtown Palmer. Wanda Gregory, the real-estate agent for Mike and Gloria, and Bob and Liz was expected to stop by in a few minutes.

“Can you repeat what she said, exactly, Marsh?” Judge Matthews asked, referring to the conversation with French and Coleridge.

“I believe so,” Marcia said, and then proceeded to repeat exactly what was said, tone perfect.

“That’s how she said it too, Judge,” Fraiser said. I’ll swear to that.”

“Well, this is an interesting situation. If that’s accurately how she said it, and I’m certain it is, knowing Marcia and her photographic memory, then they’re urging you to act, off the record.”

“It sure sounds like it,” Bob said.

Bill Matthews sighed. “I’m going to have to bow out at this point. At least I don’t want to have any knowledge of what you do to find any evidence you ‘dig up’.”

“Understood,” Mage said, “but can we run things by you without necessarily disclosing how we come by the information?”

“I don’t see any problems there,” the judge said. “There are times a judge has to tell the jury not to take certain evidence into account. It’s a ridiculous order, but it is legal.” He laughed. “I figure in this case, I don’t ask, and I can’t tell.” He gave them a little smile.

“Fair enough,” Chet said, nodding.

At that moment, a middle-aged woman was brought to their table. She had light-brown, almost blonde hair, and a complexion too dark to be Caucasian, but very fair for African American. Lastly, she was smartly dressed in a blue business suit.

Mike and Bob stood up, and Ron found himself doing the same. She was a very attractive woman, and Fraiser, having heard the story of her husband, wondered why the jerk would have fooled around on her. Thinking of Coleridge, he thought, Well, there’s more than just looks. Maybe she’s just not very nice.

When everyone sat back down, Bob Johnson introduced Wanda to everyone, and she proceeded to tell them how their offers appeared to be proceeding.

Both sellers had made some counter-offers, and Wanda was suggesting that her clients accept those, but with the stipulation that some things be repaired. There was some wood on the dock of Bob and Liz’s prospective house that needed replaced, and some flooring that needed refinishing.

Mike and Gloria’s had the basement halfway finished. Some carpet, tape and texturing of the walls and a coat of paint would go a long way to justifying the cost they were asking.

As ideas were tossed back and forth between the two couples and Wanda, the others started talking about what their first steps would be regarding Bruce and the case.

They talked for several minutes, then Fraiser realized talk had stopped between the others. Looking up, he realized Wanda was gazing at him.

“You’re talking about the woman who’s body was found near Thunderbird Falls? Her husband was arrested. You’re his brother?”

Fraiser hoped fervently that the fact didn’t hurt the couple’s chances of getting their homes. It shouldn’t, but sometimes people made some odd choices with their morals.

“Yes, Ma’am. I am.”

“I see,” Wanda said.

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--Rosemary