The Vermont Coppers

By Geoffrey A. Feller

Natalie Dvorak #10: Vermont State Police Detective-Sergeant Natalie Dvorak gets a new partner as she investigates the case of Lee Roser, a quiet loner who lives in an isolated house in the woods. Roser has been reported missing by his half-brother but a tenant in the house claims Roser has left the country. Natalie and her partner come across a private detective who’s also looking for Lee Roser but won’t say why. Evidence of a decades-old love affair emerges along with a story about a missing treasure dating back to the days of the independent Vermont Republic. The missing person case turns into a homicide and one cop’s mistake threatens to undermine the whole investigation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Geoffrey A. Feller
• Release date: Dec 13, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463006115

Geoffrey A. Feller

I was born fifty-seven years ago in the Bible belt but grew up in a Massachusetts college town. I am married and my wife and I have moved frequently since we met. We've lived in Minnesota, Massachusetts, and New Mexico, as well as a brief residency in Berlin, Germany. I have worked peripherally in health care, banking, and insurance. In addition to writing, I have done a bit of amateur acting and comedy performances. I am afraid of heights but public speaking doesn't scare me. My wife and I live in Albuquerque with our chihuahua.

Book preview

THE

VERMONT COPPERS

by Geoffrey A. Feller

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2019 by Geoffrey A. Feller

CHAPTER ONE:

THE PRODIGAL BROTHER

They’re cops, Vince. Go talk to them or I will.

The woman who had spoken was short and chubby with dark stringy hair. She was in early middle age and was wearing a black tank top above blue jeans, exposing flabby arms under pale skin.

She was sitting with her husband, Vince Roccato, at a table in a roadhouse near Rutland. Vince was twice the size of his wife, his blond hair thinning and his brown eyes in a squint. A half-empty pitcher of beer―a pale lager―was sitting in front of them along with a pair of empty cups.

Let it go, Patty, Vince muttered, staring at the group of people gathered at the bar: five men and two women, some sitting on barstools, some standing, none wearing uniforms.

State police, Patty said. Wherever Lee’s gone, they can find him.

Not if he’s left Vermont.

You dope, they can get through to other state cops. The FBI.

Vince scowled.

FBI, my ass! Like they’d be interested.

But if Lee was kidnapped, taken across state lines, that’s a federal offense. I think.

"If anyone kidnapped my brother, they’d pay ransom to get rid of him!"

The waitress walked near the table. Vince waved her over.

Another pitcher, guys?

Just wanted to ask, Vince said, how d’you know they’re cops?

Maxine’s a barmaid, Patty said. She knows police when she sees them.

Shut up, Vince told his wife. So?

So don’t talk to her like that, Maxine replied sharply. "Now just to let you know that I know what I’m talking about, I used to date that tall, good-looking one on the right. Besides, most of ’em have been in here before. They’re from the Rutland barracks."

That old boyfriend of yours has a new chick with him now, Vince observed with a smirk.

Why d’you care if they’re cops? Maxine asked with a frown. You wanna turn yourself in for something?

We’re worried about Lee, Patty said.

She’s worried about Lee, Vince grumbled.

Well, they happen to be detectives, Maxine said, not just highway patrol. Go tell ’em what’s worrying you.

Patty shot a glare at Vince as Maxine stepped away to check in at another table. When her husband failed to move, Patty got up from the table and marched away through the smoke coming from a dozen cigarettes burning around the room.

Vince growled to himself, pushed his chair back from the table, and stood up. He just barely thought to pick up his wife’s purse before following her.

The young detective Maxine claimed was her ex stood out from the rest, given his height. Vince fixed his gaze on him as a landmark, swaying slightly as he walked. His build was top-heavy; a barrel on stilts, as Patty teased.

There was a slender girl next to the young detective, his left arm draped over her shoulders. She seemed even younger than he was; the other cops appeared at least as old as Vince, whose forty-second birthday was a month away.

He caught up to Patty, who was hesitating at the last moment, and gave her the purse. By now, the detectives had noticed the couple. All of them looked Vince and Patty over without smiling. The blond was holding a glass of wine; each of the rest had long necked beer bottles in their hands.

To the left of the youngest with his date was a stocky man with a bald head standing in the middle; two more men were on barstools, one with gray hair and a short, paunchy figure; the other was tall and muscular with a receding hairline. Standing and leaning against the larger man at the bar was the second woman. She had brunette hair, a prominent nose and dark blue eyes. Although even shorter than Patty, the woman looked formidable from the lean, athletic shape filling out her pale green blouse and blue jeans.

Lady cop, Vince thought.

Can we help you folks? the oldest detective asked from his barstool.

The lady cop Vince had seen at the roadhouse was Sergeant Natalie Dvorak. The next morning, she was at the barracks, meeting with the gray haired man, Lieutenant George Sweeney, in his office.

Natalie, I want you to go on the call with Kovic, he was saying.

What for? That can be a one-man job.

It can be but Kovic’s new around here and I don’t want to find out he’s a loose cannon after the fact.

Natalie frowned.

What makes you think he might be one?

Listen. I didn’t want to bring this up on the man’s first day here. Why not give him a chance to make an impression? That’s what I was thinking.

But you heard things, is that it?

Sweeney nodded and leaned back in his chair.

Nothing serious or I wouldn’t’ve had him. I won’t give you all the details from his C.O. at Brattleboro but I’m told Kovic likes to do things his own way. So I want someone to show him how we do things at C Troop.

Why me and not Johnny Billings?

Sweeney shook his head.

You know better. Johnny’s too laid-back. Besides, you know he’s taking off with that new girlfriend for a long weekend. This missing person case gets drawn out; I need someone steady on it.

Fine, Natalie sighed. Do I pull rank on Rick or let him take the lead since he’s interviewing the brother?

Think of it as being his field supervisor. Hang back a bit and observe. He starts getting off track, rein him in.

Natalie looked Sweeney in the eye.

You didn’t like partnering with me at first, did you?

Why bring that up? It was over three years ago and we know each other now.

True.

Before he gets out of the interview, what d’you think of Kovic so far?

Seems outgoing, friendly. But Dan thought he was phony.

Sweeney smiled.

Did he?

That’s what he said.

Well, your husband might be a good judge of character but we’re the one stuck with Rick Kovic, not him. Must be nice, having a one-man police department; Dan’s only responsible to himself.

And to the citizens of Holbrook. Someone could make a motion to revoke his contract at the annual Town Meeting.

Wasn’t that tried once?

After I broke up his marriage, yeah. But they got over it. Officer Dan is popular in our community. People even accept me lately.

Yeah, since Dan’s ex got remarried.

Even before that, Natalie said. Okay, I guess I don’t have anything better to do than supervise Rick. Maybe show him how to be insubordinate in the way you take it from me.

I don’t take it from anyone else.

Kovic didn’t give Natalie any outward signs of resentment after being told that she was going with him to check on the missing person. He grinned and said he’d be happy to have a fellow investigator along, one who knew her way around the area a lot better than he did.

I’m from Burlington, originally, Natalie said as she walked alongside the burly junior detective to the unmarked sedan in the barracks lot. But after I was assigned here five years ago, I moved down to Pittsford, then Holbrook.

That’s the tiny village your old man was telling me about last night?

Population 218 at last count, Natalie replied. Is Rutland a step down from Brattleboro for you?

Wouldn’t say that, Kovic told her. You want to drive or should I?

You drive and I’ll give you directions if you need them.

Pembroke, Kovic said, opening the driver’s door. Ever been there, Sergeant?

Yeah, Natalie said as she got inside the car. Just a minor drug bust.

Long drive from here?

Long enough for you to debrief me on that interview with Roccato.

Natalie let her partner drive out of town on the road towards Pembroke before prompting his report.

Vince Roccato hadn’t seen his older brother, Lee Roser, in three weeks.

Roser? Natalie asked. Not Roccato?

They’re half-brothers. Same mother, different fathers. Roser’s eight years older than Roccato; fifty years old. Parents all dead; Roccato’s father, Roser’s father, and the mother to both of them.

Three weeks out of contact, that’s unusual?

Roccato said it was. He and his wife were supposed to stop by Roser’s place and pick him up for a family dinner in Rutland where they live. But he wasn’t at home.

Banged on the door?

Apparently.

Roser has a house?

Inherited from his father, owned outright.

Roccato couldn’t get inside?

No. Door was locked.

Couldn’t see anything amiss through a window?

He looked. Nothing seemed wrong. Roccato assumed his brother ditched them, made him mad, so he just drove off.

Roser has a car?

Yes.

Was it there at his house?

Yeah.

Any idea from Roccato about how or where his brother could’ve gone without driving?

No. That’s why they started to worry after getting over their hurt feelings.

Did they call him?

He doesn’t have a phone.

Who doesn’t have a phone in 1985?

Lee Roser, Kovic said, chuckling. Is Pembroke kind of backwoods?

Not so backwoods as that. So is this Roser some kind of weirdo? A recluse?

Yes. You saw his picture.

Natalie nodded, thinking of the face in the snapshot Roccato had brought in to how them. His brother had thin, light brown hair, high cheekbones, prominent nose, a pair of thick eyeglasses, and a weak chin.

Did they drop by Roser’s house again over the past three weeks? she asked.

Yes, a few times.

What was the most recent trip?

Last weekend in June.

Roser’s car still on the premises?

Yes.

Do the Roccatos know any of Roser’s neighbors?

No. Roser’s house is back into the woods a bit. There’s nobody around who’d see him come and go while they’re outside mowing the lawn or something.

Well, if it’s been two weeks maybe Brother Lee’s come back in the meantime and we can meet him in person.

And tell him to get a phone line installed.

Otherwise, though, Natalie said after a moment’s consideration, any particular reason Roser’s life could be in jeopardy? Health concerns?

Not that Roccato mentioned.

"Not that he mentioned? Didn’t you ask?’

Kovic swallowed and avoided Natalie’s gaze.

Wouldn’t he have brought it up?

Almost certainly, Natalie agreed. But we can’t make assumptions. Roccato might not think some chronic condition is potentially dangerous. Then again, he’s not a doctor.

Neither am I.

Don’t get defensive, Rick. If this odd brother’s reclusive he might not talk about health problems, even to family. Maybe he doesn’t get routine medical care, either. Might have been walking in the woods and dropped dead from something no one knew he had wrong with him. At fifty, something could develop without obvious symptoms.

Okay, sorry.

Any idea of where Roser gets his groceries or other provisions?

Uh, I didn’t think to ask that.

All right, well, if Roser’s still missing at his house, we can check the most likely businesses in or near Pembroke. Maybe there’s been some interaction between Roccato’s drop-ins at one of those stores. Could be he just happened to miss Roser when he wasn’t home.

But with the car still parked there?

Yeah, that’s still suspicious.

I did think to ask Roccato if Roser had any dangerous friends or habits that might get him into trouble.

Good. Suppose not or you would’ve mentioned that by now.

Yeah.

Get anything more specific from Roccato about the brother’s personality?

More specific?

Like what behavior makes Lee a weirdo, other than being a fifty year old hermit.

Not really.

"No matter.