High Country Fall

“So you did not rope off the deck and keep everyone out except yourself and the rescue team?”

“Well, Mr. Freeman had already been there, but I didn’t let nobody else come on that part of the deck, no, ma’am.”

“No further questions,” said Ms. Delorey.

I recessed for lunch at that point and, feeling in the mood for a quick order of chicken fingers, asked Mary Kay for directions to the nearest Hardee’s or Chick-fil-A.

“You’re kidding, right?”

I looked at her blankly.

“There aren’t any fast-food chains in Cedar Gap. Not allowed. Nearest one’s down in Howards Ford.”

“Not allowed? How can you not allow McDonald’s or Burger King?”

She laughed. “There used to be a Tastee-Freez, but it went bust and the town council voted not to allow any more chains in. Generates too much trash and they tend to drive out local cafes. They’re not real happy with the Trading Post or Roxie’s either because their customers aren’t as careful as they ought to be about where they drop their napkins.”

“So where do people go for a quick lunch?”

“Well, there’s a new place next to the Trading Post. The Three Sisters Tea Room.”

“A Russian tea room?” I asked, amused.

She smiled. “No, it’s American and it’s really good—salads and sandwiches made from bread baked right there in the kitchen every morning, but it’s only open from twelve to four and there’s always a line, so you might be better off at the High Country Cafe. It’s just on the other side of the monument, about two doors off Main. Their chicken salad’s not as good as the Tea Room, but it’s not bad and you can usually get a seat.”

Her assessment of the chicken salad was an understatement. It was delicious. If that other place was better, I was going to have to check it out before I left Cedar Gap, long line or not.

I was back in the courtroom at one o’clock sharp.

“Call Detective Glenn Fletcher to the stand,” said Burke.

As I watched Detective Fletcher come forward and once more take the oath to tell only the truth, I reminded myself to keep an open mind and not to let my earlier speculations about his willingness to bend the facts color my opinion of his testimony in this case.

What he had to say was fairly straightforward. As is routine in cases of violent or accidental death, he and members of the sheriff’s department crime scene team had proceeded to Dr. Ledwig’s residence, arriving there shortly after five.

“Mrs. Tina Ledwig and her daughter drove in right behind us.”

“Miss Carla Ledwig?”

“No, sir, this was the younger sister, Patricia Ledwig.”

Carla Ledwig? The quarter finally dropped. The same Carla that had left a message for the twins to call her?

“What did you do when you arrived?” asked Burke.

“We immediately secured the scene. Mrs. Ledwig was upset and wanted to go over to see what the recovery team was doing.”

“You did not let them onto the deck?”

“No, sir.”

“But Mr. Freeman continued to be there?”

“No, sir. We moved him outside our tape barrier, too, and our photographer took pictures of the entire scene before recovery began.”

“Permission to approach?” asked Burke.

I nodded.

He handed a packet of four-by-six color photographs to Fletcher. “Are these the pictures that were taken on the deck?”

Fletcher did a pro forma flip-through. “Yes, sir.”

Burke then handed copies to Ms. Delorey and to me.

Long framing shots captured the whole deck, from a handful of mailers carelessly heaped on a table beside the French doors that opened into the stone house to pots of bronze-colored chrysanthemums ranged along the steps. I saw exposed joists where the old decking had been removed, as well as a section of the railing. New planks were stacked next to a pair of sawhorses, and a circular power saw lay on a piece of wood across the sawhorses. From another angle and well behind the yellow police tape, Freeman stood near an older woman and an adolescent girl— the same older woman who now sat on the front row behind Lucius Burke.

I glanced across the aisle. The two young women seated there in support of Freeman were probably Patricia Ledwig and her sister, Carla. I wasn’t sure which was which, though, because they were very similar in looks—same long brown hair, same thin faces.

Two pictures were of a body crumpled on a rocky ledge amid vivid orange and red underbrush. The close-up of Ledwig showed the head at an unnatural angle.