Major Crimes (11 page)

Chapter 13

Chelsey

The Garfield Public Library was one mile away from the municipal building. Being that it was a gorgeous day, I could’ve walked. Being that Drew may have dialed the police, I chose not to.

The library had laptops, free Wi-Fi, and access to a virtual collection of most of the newspapers in a fifty-mile radius. I got to work right away, searching for information on Jennifer Pavlica aka Jennifer Wallace aka Jennifer Current Name Unknown.

Jennifer lived just southeast of Garfield in a small borough called Moonachie. I hadn’t been to Moonachie before, but there was a first time for everything. I jotted down her address, noting she still had the last name of Pavlica, and I scrambled out the door to find her.

It only took twelve minutes to get to Jennifer’s house. It was a weekday, so I wondered if I’d even find her. She probably worked. I parked and approached her ranch-style suburban home.

Her garage door was open and there was a car inside with the trunk open.
Maybe I caught her at home after all
. I followed the path to the front door and knocked. No answer.

The house’s interior lights were off.
Could she have left her garage door open by mistake?
I made my way back to the garage and peered inside. No sign of life.

I ventured inside and knocked on the door leading into the house. No answer, no sounds of someone inside. I tried the knob. Locked.

Nothing of interest appeared in the garage. Tools, fertilizer, boxes of photos. I peeked into an unmarked box. A black mask and a knife were there. I panicked. I looked closer at the knife without touching it.
Is that blood?

A sound at the door to the house made me jump. Someone was coming. A wave of panic washed over me. I glanced around the room. Nowhere to hide…except the trunk. I jumped in, not thinking, and closed it.

My heart thumped and I tried to catch my breath. The engine started.
Oh, please, no!
How the heck was I going to get out of this one?
Why did I panic? Why did I jump in the trunk? Why didn’t I introduce myself and ask her questions about Archie, then make a graceful exit? I’m an idiot!

The car eased out of the driveway and onto a road.
It’s freaking hot in here! How am I going to get out of here?
There was an emergency release button. I could’ve opened the trunk and jumped out, but not while the car was moving. Maybe if I waited for a red light. But, if I jumped out on a main road, I could’ve gotten run over by another car who wouldn’t have expected a person to jump out of a car trunk.

I hoped Jennifer would park in a lot somewhere without checking inside the trunk before I was able to free myself. I waited for an eternity. I closed my eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was the heat, the lack of oxygen, or the stress of the situation, but my body gave out and I fell asleep.

* * *

A woman screaming jolted me back into consciousness. I wasn’t sure how long I was out. I sat up and said, “Hi. Um, sorry.” I looked around. We were parked at a strip mall. The woman, Jennifer, had dropped a couple of shopping bags on the ground.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my car?”

“Um, I know this looks bad, I umm…” I tried to think of an excuse. I thwarted a burglary in progress and they pushed me into the trunk? Nah. My cat ran away and I was chasing it into the trunk, when it leapt out and I got locked in accidentally? Nah. I shrugged and went with the truth.

“My name is Chelsey Alton and I’m investigating the death of Archie Wallace.” I climbed out of the trunk.

Jennifer looked perplexed. “You’re investigating it in the trunk of my car?”

“Um, I know how stupid I look.”

Jennifer crossed her arms and looked me up and down. “I’m calling the cops.” She pulled out her cell phone and started to dial.

I grabbed her arm. “Please don’t. Give me five minutes and then call if you don’t believe me.” I released my grip and eased my hand away.

She put a hand on one hip and I noticed her derrière would be the envy of J-Lo. “Five minutes.”

“I’m a private investigator. I’m looking into the murder of Archie Wallace. I know you were married to him for a short time. I wanted to see if you could answer a few questions. Was Archie a good guy? Do you know of anyone who would do something like this to him? Did he have any enemies? If you knew his friend Solar. If you kept in touch with Archie.”

“I want to see your ID.”

I reached into my pocket and retrieved my driver’s license.

“Where’s your Private Investigator ID?”

Prior to swimming in the lagoon, I hadn’t exactly had time to grab my private investigator ID or anything else for that matter. I thought about how I would’ve really loved a change of underwear because I was sure I must’ve soiled myself when I got caught in the trunk.

“I apologize that I don’t have it with me, but I’ll give you the phone number of the agency where I work. They’ll vouch for me.”

“Archie wasn’t a bad guy. I loved him. He couldn’t keep his zipper shut though.”

“It’s the dangling participles.”

“What?”

“Sorry, that’s just something my best friend says all the time. It slipped out. She always says that men’s dangling participles make them do stupid things.”

“That’s for certain.” Jennifer’s look softened.

“Do you know the name of any of Archie’s…” I searched for the right word. “Mistresses?”

“Cynthia Sterling. That’s who he slept with when I was married to him.”

I repeated the name Cynthia Sterling several times so that I didn’t forget it. “Did you know Solar?”

“I did. He’s been friends with Archie forever.”

“Would he have a reason to kill Archie?”

“No. Never. He was the gentlest guy you’d ever meet. They were good friends. If that’s what you think, you’re on the wrong lead.”

“I don’t really have a solid lead. Do you know anyone who hated Archie? A criminal he put away? Family members? Former friends?”

“His ex-wife didn’t like him too much.”

“Martha, his first wife?”

“Yeah. She’s always been pissed about him leaving her for me.”

“I thought she left him.”

“It was due to his cheating…with me…so six in one hand, half dozen in the other.”

“Anyone else?”

“I heard Cynthia’s husband got wind of Cynthia’s affair with Archie and left her. I don’t know if he harbors any ill will. They had a child.”

“Cynthia has a child?”

“A daughter.”

“What’s her name?”

“Don’t remember. Tina or Tara or something.”

“Tina Liara?”

“Don’t know. Your five minutes are up.”

“Just one more minute, please. Your brother—would he have any reason to be angry at Archie?”

“Are you joking?” Jennifer raised an eyebrow.

“Just need to check out everyone that was with him that night.”

“Drew wouldn’t hurt nobody.”

That was a double negative. I wondered if he did hurt somebody.

“Is Drew left- or right-handed?”

“Left, why?”

“Thanks. Um, you wouldn’t happen to be going back to your house after this, would you?”

Jennifer crinkled her forehead. “Why?”

“Well, I, um, sort of, kind of, need a ride back to my car, which is, um, at your house.”

Jennifer threw both of her hands up into the air.

* * *

The drive back to Jennifer’s house was awkward, to say the least.

“You never did tell me why you were in the trunk of my car.” Jennifer eyed me sideways as she drove.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“Too late for that, I already do.”

“I knocked on your door. You didn’t answer. I saw the garage door open, so I knocked on the inside door to the house. You didn’t answer that either.”

“So you hopped into my trunk? You’re not very bright for an investigator and all. Scaring the bejesus out of me like that.”

I wondered if Jennifer had a point. Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be an investigator. I didn’t think I was very good at it. “I saw something in your garage that scared me.”

“What? A mouse? We get those sometimes.”

“No, a knife in a box, with a mask.”

“You mean my eight-year-old son’s Halloween costume?” Jennifer burst into laughter. “Honey, if you’re going to be a good investigator, you need to learn how to tell the difference between a real knife and a plastic toy.”

I hung my head in shame. “It’s been a long week.” She had a point. I was being ridiculous. Bryce had found a knife next to him the morning he woke up at Archie’s house. The police should’ve had the murder weapon. I shouldn’t have panicked about seeing a knife. I blamed it on my nerves and stress levels.

When we got back to Jennifer’s house, I gave her my number and told her to call me if she thought of anything that would be useful. I also decided to show her the picture of the strange ring Bryce had found. She said she never saw anything like it. I believed her. She had the chance to leave me stranded in a strip mall, and she didn’t. That counted for something. I didn’t think she had anything to hide.

“Jennifer, before you go inside, there’s one final thing…”

“What now?”

“Do you have an alibi for the night Archie was murdered? I mean, I don’t think you did anything, I was just wondering.”

“I was in California with my son. I’m nobody’s suspect.”

“Thanks for your help.”

Once I was back in my car, I checked my cell phone and found a few missed calls from Bryce. He was going to have to wait. I texted Freddy and asked him to check out Jennifer Pavlica’s alibi of being in California, Cynthia Sterling, and where I could find Martha or her daughter.

Then I called Bonnie at work.

“Coral Beach Village. Dira speaking.”

“Hi Dira. It’s Chelsey.”

Silence. What was wrong with Dira anyway? As many times as I had called for Bonnie, you’d think she’d at least say hello to me.

“How are you, Dira?”

“Fine.”

“Is Bonnie in?”

“No.”

“Can you tell her I called?”

“Yes.”

“Please tell her I said thank you for the rental car.”

“Uh huh.”

“Have a great day, Dira.”

Dira didn’t wish me a great day back. I felt bad for Bonnie. It was hard to train good help. My stomach growled. I turned the key in the ignition and drove away in search of lunch.

Chapter 14

Bryce

Before I headed to my next stop, I texted Chelsey.
Just thinking of you, hope you’re ok.
I didn’t want to keep bothering her by calling again. Plus, she wasn’t answering. I checked for tails as I drove to the pharmacy. I didn’t see any, so I parked in the lot and ran into the store.

Moments later, with a bag full of toiletries, I jumped in the Tahoe and went back to Frank’s house. I felt completely useless and had nowhere else to go. Staying out of sight was my best bet, as much as I hated it.

Inside, Geri was busy cooking lunch. “Oh, Bryce. I was wondering if you could help me.”

“Sure, Geri.”

She led me to a hallway cabinet. “Do you see up top there? Can you grab the lightbulbs?”

At only four and a half feet, I could see why Geri needed the help. I grabbed the package of lightbulbs and handed them to her.

“Now come here.” Geri motioned me to follow her into her bedroom.

A wicked thought crossed my mind.
Oh, no way is she leading me into her bedroom!
I didn’t know why such a crazy idea had gotten into my head.

We walked through the bedroom door, and she sat on the bed. I glanced left and right, wondering if I was on an episode of
Impractical Jokers
. I hoped Frank didn’t come into the room and wonder what I was doing there with his wife!

Geri fiddled with the lightbulb box until she pulled one out. She pointed up above the bed. “I can’t reach. I’ve asked Frank to change this light a thousand times and he doesn’t move to do anything. All he does is play on his computers in the basement all day long. He doesn’t want to do anything ever.”

I laughed to myself. Of course she didn’t want me in her bedroom. Being bored to tears was making me crazy. I stood on the bed at Geri’s direction and changed the light in her ceiling fan.

“I’m going to whip up a batch of my homemade cookies for you.” Geri’s gratitude appeared in the form of food. That was fine with me. She and Frank were good cooks.

“Do you need help with anything else?”

“No. Go downstairs and find out what that old fart is up to.”

Laughing to myself again, I walked through the house and into the garage. Once again, I marveled at the collection of toilet seats before heading through the black door into the
Star Trek
command center.

Frank was too busy staring at a screen on his CCTV unit to notice me.

“Hey, Frank, I…”

“
Shhhhh!
”
Frank motioned for me to come near him. “See what you make of this…it’s from the night of Archie’s murder. There’s a deli across the street from Archie’s house. I hacked into its surveillance system. They kept a week’s worth of videos on their cloud drive.

Frank pointed to the screen. In the far right corner, there was a car. He hit the play button and a person dressed in dark clothes walked by with their head down.

“Do you see what I see?”

I scratched my head. “Someone coming out of the deli?”

“Nope, nope. Guess again.”

I didn’t feel like playing
The $64,000 Question
but out of politeness to my safe house owner, I squinted at the screen. “When was this recording from?”

“One twenty a. m. the night Archie was murdered. See anything unusual?”

“It’s June and the person is dressed in long sleeves, long pants, and a hoodie covering their head. Their face is obscured.”

“Precisely. They are walking away from the deli, not toward it.”

“One twenty in the morning could be chilly out. It could be a neighbor walking around. I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman.”

“Could be a neighbor, but it isn’t.”

I looked at Frank, confused. “How do you know?”

“I’m glad you asked that question.” Frank puffed up his chest. “Let me show you.” He fast forwarded the recording to two ten a.m. “See the time here—two ten.” He pointed to the screen. “Now watch.”

Appearing before us on the screen was the same person, walking toward the deli. Head hung low.

“For starters, I checked the weather. The low for that night was eighty-nine degrees. You’d have to be eighty-nine years old to feel cold in eighty-nine degree weather.” He laughed like Santa Claus at his joke. “She goes off camera, but look here.” Frank pointed to the upper left-hand side of the screen. “Taillights. She got into a car.”

“Why do you keep saying she?”

“Because the frame is small. Maybe it’s a small man, but the hoodie looks feminine to me.”

Why he thought the dark hoodie was feminine, I’d never know. Since Frank had a fifty percent chance of being correct on the gender, I didn’t argue. “You think that’s a Ford Focus?”

Frank stared at the screen. “I don’t know. How can you tell by just a taillight? It doesn’t look unique.”

“Maybe an auto mechanic could tell. Too bad we can’t see the plate.”

“Yeah. If it wasn’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.” Frank laughed at his own joke again. “All I know is, if that’s a Ford Focus, you have two clues. The perp is a girl—a man wouldn’t drive a Focus. And the perp isn’t one of those rich, fancy types—what do those cars go for? Eighteen thousand dollars? That there is no doctor’s or lawyer’s car.”

Frank had quite an imagination. Did he honestly think men didn’t drive that type of vehicle? And how does he know a doctor wouldn’t be frugal? What if the car was a rental? I reached into my pants pocket and retrieved the bag with the ring inside. “Freddy told me to give you this ring.”

“Yeah, I’ll have it tested. Feel like going for a drive?”

“Sure.”

Frank saved the video to a flash drive, which he pocketed. We hiked up the black staircase, past the toilet seats, which made me chuckle yet again, and into the kitchen.

“Geri, where are my car keys?”

“Where are you going? You know I’m making lunch. The food’s gonna get cold.”

“We won’t be long. We’ll eat when we get back.” Frank pulled a polo shirt over his wife-beater tank and shoved his wallet and cell into his pants pockets. He found the keys and I followed him toward the front door.

Geri yelled from the kitchen. “Linda and the kids are coming again tonight. Pick up some torpedo rolls on your way back.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Was Frank annoyed that the entourage was returning to his house or the fact that he had to pick up rolls? Or could it be that he also had to deal with my problems? I didn’t dare ask.

We buckled ourselves into Frank’s van and he sped off. Our first stop was at the DNA Lab of New Jersey. It was thirteen miles from Frank’s house in an industrial warehouse complex. We walked in the main doors and strolled down the hallway marked “Nuclear DNA Unit.”

Hopefully, there was enough blood on the ring for proper testing. Hopefully, the sample hadn’t been compromised. We still weren’t sure the ring had anything to do with the murder. But, hopefully, it did.

After Frank submitted the ring along with Freddy’s contact information, we drove to an auto parts store. Frank approached the guy behind the counter. “I was wondering if you could look at some taillights on a video and tell me what type of car it is.”

The guy looked confused. “I don’t think so.”

Frank whispered to me, “He’s dumber than a load of bricks.”

I thanked the guy for his time and we left.

“Maybe one of Freddy’s investigators could figure out if the taillight belongs to a Ford Focus.” I was trying to be helpful, but Frank was determined to figure it out.

“Maybe.”

Frank drove to an auto body repair shop. No luck there either. Three stops later, we were in Florence Township at the house of a mechanic who does repair work from his home.

The house was white and resembled an old farm house, minus the farm. A sign on the road said, “Buster’s Auto Body.”

We walked up the long driveway and knocked on the door. The man who answered looked like he just walked off the
Duck Dynasty
set. I presumed that was Buster.

“What can I do ya for?” He had more of a southern accent than a Jersey one.

“We were wondering if you could take a look at a photo and see if a taillight belongs to a Ford Focus.” Frank’s bald head beaded up with sweat in the afternoon heat.

“Yep. Where’s the photo?”

“I have it on a flash drive.”

“What in tarnation is a flash drive?”

“Do you have a computer?”

“Nope. Never had much use for one.”

I did a mental eye roll. Frank reached in his pocket and pulled out a phone. “Good thing I sent the video to my cell phone earlier in the day.”

Frank found the video on his phone and handed it to the guy. Buster grabbed the phone, squinting at it. “What the devil?”

Frank took the phone back. Buster had inadvertently hit the side button and turned off the phone. Frank cued up the video and handed the phone to Buster again.

The video started to play. Buster brought the phone closer to his eyes. “Dang it.”

Frank took the phone back and cued up the video again. “I’ll hold it for you.”

Buster scrutinized the video playing in Frank’s hand. “Yupper. That there is a Ford Focus taillight. See them there L-shaped thing-a-ma-bobs? Yep, them babies would cost about two hundred and ninety dollars to repair here at my place.”

Frank looked at me. “Am I good, or am I good?”

“You’re good.”

We thanked Buster and turned to leave.

“Y’all have a nice day now and if you need any work done on your cars, remember me.”

“We will,” I answered.

We hopped back into Frank’s van and he sped off again. I wondered where he was headed. Since I had nowhere to go and nothing to do, I didn’t bother asking where we were going.

An hour later, Frank zipped onto the Garden State Parkway. We were shore-bound. Nerves got the better of me. I didn’t want to be seen in the area. My fellow law enforcement officers were searching for me. I scrunched down in my seat and lowered my baseball cap.

“You look scared shitless, Bryce.”

“You could say that.”

“No worries. We’ll be outta here in no time.”

“Won’t Geri be angry that we missed lunch?”

“Yeah. Probably.” Frank smirked.

I shook my head.

Frank exited the parkway and took the causeway over the bridge headed toward Coral Beach. He pulled up to the deli across from Archie’s house. It would have been a relief if I never had to see Archie’s house again.

He pointed to the street next to the deli. “That’s where your perp must’ve parked.” He then pointed to a spot on the overhang of the building. “And there’s your camera.”

Frank pulled up the video on his cell phone and watched the person walk from where they parked and toward Archie’s house. He motioned with his hand. “See, she walked from there to there. There’s nothing else around here. No side streets. Archie’s house takes up a good three acres. Yup. I think that’s the person who did it.”

I wondered why Frank trusted me when not many others did. He never assumed that I had committed the crime. Underneath the quirks, he was a caring guy. He cared enough to help me, a total stranger.

Frank swung the car around and headed back to the parkway. I asked if I could watch the video on his phone. He agreed and handed me the phone.

The next stop was the bakery. Frank ran inside to get the rolls while I stayed in the car and watched the video. I watched it over and over—searching for some clue. Something, anything. Then I saw it. It was just a glimpse, but I saw it.

I’d have to wait to get back to Frank’s house to enlarge and enhance the video—but I knew it in my bones. Frank was right. That
was
the perp. And the perp was wearing that odd ring on a chain around her neck.