Fugitive Filling (6 page)

Chief Grant was at his desk, leaning back in his chair and frowning into space. Jake knocked on his door after getting permission to pass through upon signing us both in on the ledger.

“Is this a bad time?” my husband asked the police chief.

“Yes. No. I guess what I mean is that it’s as good a time as any. Come on in,” he said.

“That’s not what I’d call a definitive answer,” I said as we stayed outside.

“You’re both more than welcome to come in. I was just mulling over the two interviews I just conducted, trying to figure out how I could have handled them better. To say that they were unproductive would be an understatement.”

“Who did you interview?” Jake asked before I could admit that we wanted a shot at his two reticent subjects. Jake knew full well who the police chief had spoken to, but by asking a simple question, he’d still managed to tell a lie. It was an interesting thing to see in action.

“As if you didn’t already know. You both saw the appointment book, didn’t you? Of course you did,” Chief Grant said, and then he shook his head slightly. “Why wouldn’t you? The appointment book was open, and it was kind of hard to miss.”

“We saw that Joe Chastain and Becky Rusch both had appointments with Teresa last night,” I acknowledged, without telling him that I had been the one who had opened it to the one page we needed to see. It was an interesting way to hold a conversation, finding new ways to obfuscate the truth. I was a little sad that we were deceiving our friend, but I couldn’t bring myself to come right out and admit that I’d been the one who’d opened the book in the first place.

“And now I’m betting that you two want to talk to them yourselves, is that it?” He was dead on the money, but he didn’t look too happy about it.

“Would you mind if we gave it a try?” Jake asked. “We can approach them from a different angle than you were able to. What do you have to lose?”

“Just my job, my dignity, and my hope of ever being gainfully employed in law enforcement ever again,” Chief Grant said. “Why not? You can’t do any worse than I did.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I said. “It’s an extremely difficult job.”

“I realize that more and more every day. I just hate it when folks won’t cooperate when I ask them simple questions that should be easy to answer,” he said with a grin.

“I can relate to that,” Jake said.

“Somehow I kind of doubt that,” the police chief said with a wry smile. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t always get what you were looking for the first time out.”

“Take my word for it; I’ve been just as frustrated by the lack of cooperation as you are right now. If you’re sure you don’t mind, Suzanne and I would love to interview both of them.”

“Do you need any information from me about either one of them?” Stephen asked as he leaned forward to check his report.

“We’ve got it covered,” I said quickly, not quite again lying but not telling the complete truth, either.

“You were taking pictures when I showed up at the office,” the chief said. “No doubt you took a few photos of the page in question.” There was no question, just a statement of fact.

“We did, along with some other things,” Jake readily admitted. I didn’t like where this was going, but we had to play it out as honestly as we could at this point. I didn’t mind skirting the truth if I had to, but I wasn’t going to lie directly to the police chief, particularly not about anything directly involving an active murder case, and I knew that Jake wasn’t about to do it, either.

“What did you get?” the new chief asked hesitantly. “Was there anything of interest that you’d care to share with me?”

Jake grinned. “I didn’t want to volunteer anything, but I was really hoping you’d ask.” He pulled out his phone and brought up the pictures he’d taken at the crime scene. Skipping through them, he landed on the one we’d both studied so carefully earlier and said, “I tried to get a good shot of that heel print, but my camera couldn’t pick it up.”

“We got something better than that, but it was ruined when we tried to preserve it.”

“Can you at least tell if a man or a woman made it?” I asked.

The chief shrugged. “All we can say for sure was that it was from some kind of work boot. We can’t even gauge the size, but we’re going on the assumption that it was made by a man.”

“Women wear work boots, too, you know,” I said.

“Of course they do. We’re not going to discount that possibility, either, but I think that we can all agree that the majority of people who wear them are men. What else have you got?”

“Show him the picture you took that’s been baffling us,” Jake urged me, so I grabbed my phone and I pulled up the label I’d found by the desk.

“Chief, do you have any idea what that is?”

“It’s from a box of power bars,” he said with a nod. “We found that, too. Evidently Teresa bought a case of the things yesterday, and the label came off. We found the rest of the label, along with the box, in the office closet.”

We hadn’t even had time to search there! So that explained that. Or did it? “Do you happen to know if she ordered them online, or did she buy them at the grocery store?” I asked.

Chief Grant looked surprised by the question. “I have no idea. Why does it matter?”

Jake got it right away. “If they were from the grocery store, then Bobby Wells could have brought them to her, which would put him in her office sometime around the murder.”

“I’ll look into it,” he said as he jotted down a quick note. “Thanks.”

“We’re more than happy to help. How’s your investigation going?” It was an innocent enough question, but I held my breath waiting for his response. I figured he could yell at us, ignore us, or there was even a slight chance that he’d tell us something we didn’t already know. Thankfully Jake stayed out of it.

Stephen smiled. “I’m not quite sure that I’m ready to share that much with you two at the moment.”

At least it was better than a scolding. “I get that, but if you change your mind, you know where to find us,” I said.

Jake stood and offered the chief his hand. “Thanks for the green light on our interviews.”

“At this point, what can it hurt, right?” he asked as he took it.

“I’m sure we’ll see you soon,” I said with a grin.

“There’s no doubt in my mind.”

“Suzanne, you pushed him a little in there, didn’t you?” Jake asked me the second we were back in my Jeep. I didn’t have to ask him what he was referring to.

“I figured, what could it hurt? The chief seemed to be in a giving mood. After all, he’s letting us talk to Joe Chastain and Becky Rusch.”

“I know, but it had to cost him something to allow it. Did you ever consider stopping while we were ahead?” my husband asked me with a laugh.

“It never even crossed my mind,” I said with a big grin. “Do you still want to tackle Becky first?”

Instead of answering my question directly, my husband said, “Normally, I’ve always believed in handling the toughest interview first.”

“So then we speak with Joe?” I asked.

“Funny, but I don’t think he’s the hardest one we have to talk to. I understand men like him, but Becky Rusch’s road rage is something I’m having trouble wrapping my head around.”

“Then it’s Becky after all,” I said, starting off in the direction of her place.

“No, it’s Joe,” he corrected me.

I turned around the moment I got the chance. “Make up your mind, sir.”

“I never got a chance to tell you what my thoughts were,” he countered. “We do this in order, and since Joe’s appointment was first, he’s the logical one to start with.”

“Oh, if you’re going to start trotting out logic, then I don’t stand a chance.” I knew that Joe Chastain worked at a body shop on the edge of town, so that was the way I started driving. “How are we going to handle this? Are we going to pretend that my Jeep needs a facelift?” I asked.

Jake looked surprised to hear the idea. “No, I thought we’d just come right out and ask him about his meeting with his attorney last night.”

“We can try, but it might not work. We can’t force anyone to talk to us, remember?”

“Maybe not, but I have a feeling that he’s going to want to cooperate.”

“Why do you think that?” I asked as we neared our first suspect’s place of employment.

“I don’t know. Folks just seem to want to open up to me,” Jake answered.

He wasn’t kidding. “Did you ever think that it might be because you carried a gun?”

“I’m sure that had a little to do with it, but I never had to use it to get a statement out of someone.”

“Be my guest, then. I’d love to see you in action.”

Jake wasn’t sure what to make of my statement, and maybe he was right, but I had a hunch that without any authority backing him up, he might have just as hard a time getting answers as Grace and I usually did.

One thing was certain: we were about to find out.

Chapter 6

A
t least the body shop
wasn’t busy.

I spotted Joe over to one side and told Jake, “He’s over there eating a bag of chips.” The repairman had on a pair of dirty overalls and heavy work boots that left a track of red clay dirt wherever he stepped. Had he left a similar trail the night before in the attorney’s office? Even if he had, it didn’t necessarily mean that he’d killed her, but if he tried to deny that he’d even been there, it might be something we could use against him later.

Jake nodded and started off. As he headed for the man, I followed along. There was no way I was going to miss this.

“You’re Joe Chastain, aren’t you?” Jake asked in an officious voice.

“Who wants to know?” Joe replied, clearly unimpressed so far.

“We need to ask you a few questions about Teresa Logan,” Jake said rather formally.

“You a cop? You look like a cop to me,” Joe said with a scowl.

“I used to be,” Jake admitted.

“But you’re not anymore,” Joe replied. “I hate cops.” Chastain wadded up his bag and threw it toward a nearby trashcan, hitting the floor instead. I had to fight the urge to pick it up and throw it away properly for him.

“Like I said, I’m not one anymore.”

“Then I’ve got nothing to say to you. I already spoke to the police chief, but I didn’t have much choice, did I?”

“He gave us his permission to follow up with you,” Jake said. I could tell that he was beginning to get a little frustrated by the man’s lack of cooperation. I wanted to step in to see if I could expedite the interview, but this was something Jake needed to see for himself. Besides, I doubted that Joe would have been any more cooperative with me than he was being with my husband, though I didn’t have the weight of being a former police officer against me.

“Good for him,” the man said. “The problem is that I don’t have time to monkey around with you two.” He glanced at me and added, “Shouldn’t you be somewhere making donuts?”

“The shop’s closed at the moment,” I said with a smile. I regretted giving Emma our last donuts earlier. Maybe I would have been able to use them to bribe Joe into answering a few of our questions. It had worked with others in the past.

“Well, mine isn’t,” Joe said with contempt. “I’m busy, and even if I wasn’t, customers aren’t allowed back here.”

“That works out fine, because we’re not customers,” Jake said, standing his ground.

The body shop repairman didn’t like that one little bit. “Listen, I’ve already told you once, so I’m not going to say it again. I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

He clearly didn’t know that my husband’s stubborn streak was wider than anyone else’s he’d ever met. “Then we’ll be glad to wait right here until you do,” Jake replied.

Joe approached my husband, cracking his knuckles as though he were about to use them. I wanted to tell Jake that maybe it was time to back off, but I couldn’t do it without embarrassing him, and besides, I knew that my husband could handle himself. He didn’t need a gun to protect himself, or me either, for that matter.

“I said go.” The repairman spat out his words, and the two men were inches apart now.

“No.”

After the longest ten seconds I could recall in recent memory, Chastain backed off a few steps. “What do you want to know?”

“Did you meet with Teresa Logan last night at seven thirty in her office?” Jake asked as though nothing had just happened.

Joe frowned. “I don’t have to tell you that. It’s, what do you call it? Attorney–client privilege. Yeah, that’s it.”

Why was I not surprised that Joe Chastain knew his rights?

“I’m not asking what you discussed. All I want to know is if you met with her,” Jake said patiently.

“Yeah, of course I did. So what?”

“Was anyone else around the office when you left?”

“No. The place was empty,” Joe said.

“Was she on the phone with anyone as you were leaving, by any chance?” I asked.

Joe looked a little surprised to find me still standing there behind my husband. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, she was making a call right when I walked out the door.”

“Did you leave a threatening message on Teresa Logan’s answering machine within the past week?” Jake asked him.

Joe frowned and shook his head. “Why would I do that? She was my attorney, and besides, she was going to get me off. Now I’m going to have to start all over and go through the hassle of finding a new lawyer.”

“I’m so sorry for the inconvenience,” I said sarcastically. Here a woman was dead, and this man was worried about letting his fingers take a walk through the yellow pages. I had a tough time generating any sympathy for him. “Did you happen to catch who she was calling?”

“How would I know?” he asked.

“Joe, is there a problem over there?” a gruff, heavyset man asked the repairman from the office.

“No, it’s all good, Mr. K.”

The man nodded, and then he stared at us for a few moments before turning away.

“Listen, I can’t afford to get fired,” Joe said. “I need this job. I answered your questions. You have to take off now.”

“Are you okay with that, Suzanne?”

“I don’t have anything else for him at the moment,” I said.

“Okay, then,” Jake said. “We can leave. If you think of anything else, be sure to let us know.”

“How about if I call the chief instead?” Joe asked with a nasty grin. “After all, he’s the one working the job. You’re not, remember?”

Back at the Jeep, I turned to my husband and smiled. “I must say that I’m impressed.”

“Why? I didn’t get very much out of him.”

“The fact that he told us anything at all is what’s so amazing to me. I thought he was going to take a swing at you for a second there.”

“He was posturing, and when I wouldn’t back down, he folded. If he’d been drunk, it might have been a completely different story, but I knew where things stood.”

“I’m going to have to take your word for it, but I’m warning you, if you try to go toe to toe with Becky Rusch, things might not end nearly as well for you.”

Jake seemed amused by the idea. “Why, do you think she might take a swing at me?”

“I don’t know, but you said it yourself. She’s a bit of a wild card. If you go over there trying to intimidate her, you’re probably going to run into the same dead end that Stephen did.”

“Do you want to show me how it’s done? Is that what you’re saying?” he asked with a grin.

“I’d love to take the lead, but feel free to jump in during a lull.”

“Only if I have to,” Jake said, and then he took out his cell phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“I’m going to update the police chief about our conversation, and then I’m going to ask him to check Teresa’s cell phone records. If she really did make a call after Joe left, he might be off the hook.”

“If he was telling us the truth,” I said.

After Jake made his phone call, he asked me, “Don’t you believe Joe’s story, Suzanne?”

“The truth of the matter is that I’ve made it a point lately not to take anything a suspect tells me at face value,” I said.

“It sounds as though you’ve been burned in the past.”

“More times than I care to admit,” I said.

“Where exactly does Becky Rusch work?” Jake asked me as I took a side street near the donut shop.

“She’s a clerk at the flower shop,” I said.

“It’s hard for me to believe that someone who works for a florist ever committed road rage.”

“Why shouldn’t she? I run a donut shop, and there are days when my customers drive me so crazy I’d be tempted to run a few of them over if I were given the chance.” I was speaking in hyperbole, and my husband knew it.

“It’s a good thing you’ve got such a short commute from work to home, then,” he answered with a chuckle.

We had to wait in line, since the flower shop was busy. I watched as Becky handled customer after customer with more patience than I showed at times at Donut Hearts. Becky Rusch was a rather plain woman, but she made up for it by smiling brightly at every customer, making each one of them feel as though their order was the most special one she’d take that day. When it was our turn at the front counter, Becky turned her charm on us as she said, “Hey, Suzanne. You must be Jake. What can I get you today?”

I glanced at the flower arrangements in the display case and said, “We’d like to buy something nice. How are the roses this time of year?”

“Sorry, but we’re completely out. No worries, they’re on back order, but we haven’t had any since Valentine’s Day. Our supplier has been having trouble meeting demand, but we should be getting some in next week.”

“Suzanne, why exactly are we buying flowers?” Jake asked me.

“I thought it might be nice to take some to Momma’s for dinner this evening.”

“If you ask me, you can’t go wrong with one of our party arrangements,” Becky said. “I know some folks bring wine, but who doesn’t like a burst of color in their lives?”

“Then again, you have to say that, since you’re a florist,” I said with a grin. It was hard to believe that this mild-mannered woman had committed an act of road rage.

“I’ve got a hunch that you recommend they bring donuts to the party. Am I right?” she asked me.

“Always,” I said. “What’s the freshest arrangement you have right now?”

“
All
of our flowers are fresh,” Becky said loudly, and then, in a softer voice, she added, “I’d go with the spring bouquet if I were you. They just came in this morning.”

“We’ll take one,” I said.

As I was starting to pay, I asked her, “It’s a shame about what happened to Teresa Logan, isn’t it?”

“It is,” she agreed.

“Did you happen to know her?” I asked.

“I did,” Becky said as she gave me my change.

“Was it privately or professionally?” Jake asked her. I had been under the impression that he’d be letting me handle this interview, but since I had interrupted his, it was only fair that he chimed in on mine occasionally.

Becky frowned a little before answering. “That’s funny. I know you’re asking a question, but you sound as though you already know the answer,” she replied, her smile quickly disappearing.

“You were one of her law practice’s clients,” Jake said, again making it a statement instead of a query.

“I am, or I suppose the proper way to say it is that I was. Why did I need an attorney? I’m sure you already know the answer to that, too. I was having a horrible day, and I let my emotions get the better of me. I’m still paying for it, but it just won’t go away.”

“Did you meet with Teresa Logan last night?” Jake asked her.

“No, I did not,” Becky said as she handed me the arrangement. There was no one left in the store, so she couldn’t brush us off in order to wait on another customer, but I knew that she was going to find some excuse to get rid of us, so I had to act quickly.

“That’s a little odd. Your name was in her appointment book,” I said.

“I went to her office, but she never showed up. The truth is that I got tired of knocking on the front door, so I finally left. The next thing I know, the police chief comes over here this afternoon asking me about my relationship with her. What business is that of his, or yours either, for that matter?” The sunny side of her personality was definitely gone now.

“We’re just trying to help,” I said.

“Are you saying that you’re trying to help
me
? Forgive me for saying so, but I sincerely doubt that.”

“If you didn’t kill your attorney, then why wouldn’t you want her murder solved?” Jake asked, and I could tell that he was honestly curious.

“People get murdered every day all over the country. I’m sorry it happened, but I can’t get too wrapped up in it,” Becky said. “Besides, I was going to have to find a new attorney anyway. She wasn’t doing me much good, and when she missed that appointment last night, I was going to fire her anyway.”

Teresa had the perfect excuse for not making it, since there was a good chance that she’d been dead, but I didn’t feel that was the right time to bring it up. I was about to ask her another question when my husband asked it for me.

“So, you’re claiming that you never went inside her office the day of the murder?” Jake asked.