Novel brings new attention to sister’s 1976 murder case
By Roy Ockert Jr.
Nov. 18, 2014
One of the best things about being retired from full-time newspaper work is that I have time to read about something other than current events. I have made a small dent in my library and moved a few new books to the top of my reading list.
One of the latter is “A Sunny Place for Shady People,” published this year by Stiletto Press. The author is Stephen W. Brooks, a fellow native of Hot Springs who lives on St. Simon’s Island, Ga. It’s his fifth novel (http://www.stephenwbrooks.com).
I don’t read many novels, preferring non-fiction, especially autobiographies, biographies or other books that deal with the history of American politics and government, education, Arkansas and sports.
But “A Sunny Place” had a special attraction: It’s based on the murder of my sister, Linda Edwards, on the night of Aug. 21-22, 1976, a case which remains officially unsolved. This is the first book based on her case, which has been the subject of countless newspaper articles, magazine features, radio broadcasts and television programs over the years.
I’ve long considered doing a book — I’ve certainly done the research — but it’s still painful to relive the details, and reading this book was difficult. However, it may clear a path for my own attempt.
I’ve written about my sister occasionally so longtime readers may remember some of the background. She was a 29-year-old Garland County deputy sheriff when she disappeared one Saturday night, and her car was found on a road outside Hot Springs the next morning. But her remains weren’t found until the following Feb. 12 on Jack Mountain, a rugged area about 8 miles from her car and in Hot Spring County.
An autopsy showed that she died from multiple blows to the head, a homicide. No murder weapon was ever found, nor were her purse, her deputy’s badge or identification card.
That summer a first-degree murder charge was filed against a Hot Springs Police Department narcotics officer, Thurman Abernathy, with whom she’d had an affair that allegedly resulted in a pregnancy. But over the next two years the case, built almost exclusively on hearsay, including what Linda told friends, and circumstantial evidence, fell apart. The charge was dropped, and then the case was submitted to a grand jury, which returned no indictment.
More than 38 years later, the case officially remains open but unsolved. Linda’s son Toby, not quite 6 years old at the time of her death, took up the cause several years ago and maintains a Web site, lindaedwards.com, where he has assembled documents, articles and other materials.
Brooks’ novel is a fanciful solution to the crime. It’s set in the present day, when a group of mostly retired law enforcement officers get together and endeavor to solve a cold case.
Brooks acknowledges in the book’s dedication that the novel is an “account of actual and fictional events surrounding the murder of Garland County Sheriff’s Deputy Linda Edwards.” He also declares that the characters in the novel are fictional and that any similarity to “a specific person living or dead is purely accidental and coincidental.”
Thus, the victim is not Linda Louise Edwards, but rather Lydia Louise Roberts, also 29. The chief suspect is Abaddon Thurgood. Linda’s boss was Sheriff Leon Barlow; Lydia’s was Barton Leoni. The chief investigator in my sister’s case was Mike Fletcher; in Lydia’s case it was Michael Felter. Both went on to become state legislators.
Otherwise, the facts of the fictional case are almost exactly the same as in my sister’s case — from where the car was found to where the remains were found to a verbatim autopsy report to the legal process. Hot Spring County is Hot Springs County, though that may be an error.
The novel’s “hero” is William “Mac” Mackenzie Donovan, whose biography resembles Brooks’. Both are retired law enforcement officers, originally from Hot Springs, and both earned law degrees, then specialized in admiralty and maritime law.
Donovan teams up with a beautiful Hot Springs police officer who operates a K-9 unit. Much of the novel is spent developing a romantic relationship between them, and yet she is killed off with little explanation after an ill-advised solo trip to Jack Mountain.
In fact, Brooks makes Thurgood a serial killer, bringing two or three new murders into the picture during the cold case investigation. I won’t spoil the ending except to say that the solution doesn’t come through the courts.
The storyline involves Lydia’s badge and gun suddenly appearing near where her remains had been found so many years earlier, the gun apparently having been used to kill the K-9 officer. As far as I know, my sister had no gun with her when she died.
In addition to the book’s focus on Donovan’s romantic conquests, its coarse language at times is distracting. Perhaps some cops are plenty profane — Brooks should know — but I’ve known many who aren’t.
More disturbing, the book is poorly edited — apparently by nothing more than a spell-check function — because there are errors throughout (“chocked” instead of “choked,” “damn” instead of “dam,” “to” instead of “too,” etc.). Comma placement is atrocious, other punctuation is haphazard, and and even the chapter numbers are repeatedly wrong. I’d have been glad to help.
But I appreciate Brooks bringing new attention to a real-life case.
Roy Ockert is editor emeritus of The Jonesboro Sun. He may be reached by e-mail at royo@suddenlink.net.