Page 6 by Peter d'Errico

If Chief Hall had any worry, it was because of early warm weather. Spring nights have to freeze and days thaw for sap to flow just right. Her thoughts were cut short by the phone, a call from Route 63 Sugar Shack.

She talked right over the "call is being recorded" message. "What's up, Bob? You boiling? I was just thinking of visiting. Your syrup is sweet enough to die for."

"I would be boiling, Charmaine, but you better get over here quick to see why I'm not." Bob's voice was rushed, between heavy breaths, like he'd been running. "And you may be right about my syrup, but you'll wish you weren't."

"Well, Bob, don't waste your breath; it'll be a mystery until I get there."

"I got to warn you, Charmaine, it's gonna be a mystery after you get here. You better put a call out to Dispatch and have them send a couple people, too. Mariel's already here and she's going to have some figuring-out to do."

The Chief startled at the mention of Mariel, a nice-looking former detective from the Midwest, still new in town, maybe a little too polite, but eager to help when she could. Charmaine guessed Mariel's detective training was more scientific than her own, and was happy the woman wasn't arrogant. "A sugar shack mystery. That'll be a sweet assignment," she thought as she hopped in the cruiser. She radioed Dispatch and, for the fun of it, put on lights and siren.

Page 5 by Peggy Marshall

“Mar, honey do what you do best!”   The firm voice in Mariel’s mind brought her out of  the paralysis that had resulted when she saw the body in the tank.

Her husband’s voice remained in her mind as strong today as it was when he was alive.

Frank had been a Chicago detective, same as she, when he was murdered during an undercover operation gone awry.  Mariel had dearly loved Frank and truly felt that she had lost the anchor in her life once he was gone.  Twenty-five years in the Chicago police department, she was highly decorated and well respected, yet Mariel just could not continue on with the job without Frank.  She took an early retirement and looked for a place that was completely different from Chicago, a place where she could raise Mabel and Mark in a community that cared.  Leverett was the choice she had made, and her choice was good, they had been here five years and she felt part of the community.

Despite the scene before her, Mariel smiled and said aloud “Thanks, Frank I know

I can always count on you “.  While she was not actively working with police she was not far away from the world of crime and justice.  She was now an adjunct professor at the local University and taught criminal justice as well as being an expert witness in various court cases nationwide.

She noted three things about the scene before her, there were three overturned sap buckets lying to the left of the tank, a handprint on the right window above the tank, and a large muddy smudge on the white painted interior of the door, about three feet off the floor. 

She stepped closer to the vat to view the body as she pulled her cell phone out to dial the police.   She leaned over to look into the tank and the phone slipped, she watched it slowly sink down into the bottom. 

Damn, Drat, Darn!   She cursed.  Her mind whirled for the best way to contact the Leverett Police Chief, Charmaine Hall.