Mindfield (Sideways Eight Book 1) (25 page)

Chapter 29

Everyone Loves the Ice Cream Man

Fairfax, VA – Fairfax Justice Center - Task Force Command

Wednesday, 15 June – 9:06 AM

The morning news blared from the television while the ice cream man ate his morning breakfast. A slice of toast between his front teeth was forgotten when a photograph of an ice cream truck identical to his appeared on the screen. The newscaster stated authorities were searching for a person of interest connected to Annabelle Grant’s disappearance. Police requested this individual to come forward.

He choked on his toast and spit it onto his plate. Authorities were seeking him for questioning. Yesterday he worked the zone where Annabelle went missing. He tossed the toast onto the table, gulped his coffee, jumped from the chair, and grabbed his phone and keys. He kissed his wife. “Honey, I need to talk to the police. Don’t worry, everything is okay.” He stole one more kiss on the way out the door to the address given on the screen.

∞ ∞ ∞

Charley and Murphy gobbled their cranberry bagels on their way to the interagency command center. The ice cream man had called the number provided by the news station, informing them he will arrive within the hour.

Advised the man was in interrogation room two, Murphy trailed alongside Charley. He opened the door, she beckoned thanks while slipping through, and he filed in behind her.

Classic gray subway wall tile and black and white checkerboard floor tile decorated the barren room. They sat across from the mustached man who folded his hands on the table.

Charley gave the man an indifferent stare as she opened the folder Doobie handed to them when they arrived. She assessed his overall appearance and demeanor. Average height, pudgy, with grey eyes, his thin lips had an easy smile. Light-brown hair streaked by the sun draped over his forehead. He did not appear nervous or anxious.

“Your name is Lucas Williams?” Charley said.

“Yes.”

Calm, he exhibited no signs of stress around the eyes. Relaxed, his hands were steady, he leaned forward, a sign of attentiveness.

“I’m Agent Charley Faraday. The gentleman to my right is Agent Sean Murphy. We have a few questions regarding a crime that took place yesterday at Rensselaer Park on Grenadier Drive.”

“Awful, isn’t it, the little girls? Breaks my heart. I have a three-year-old daughter. I can’t imagine what the parents are going through,” Lucas said. “How can I help?”

Charley calculated how mournful Mr. Williams appeared. “We’re hoping you can help us. Yesterday, you were in the area where Annabelle Grant disappeared.”

“I didn’t know about it until a police officer asked me to move my truck. I obliged and gave him an ice cream. I asked him what was going on. He refused to offer any details.” Lucas blinked and sniffed. “I found out it was Annabelle this morning while I watched the news during breakfast and I hauled ass here.”

Murphy crinkled his brows. “You know Annabelle?”

“Yes.”

“Did you notice anything unusual at the park?” Murphy said.

“No.” Lucas lowered his head, wiping the corner of his eye. “Would you give me a second?”

They gestured in agreement.

Lucas removed a handkerchief from his back pocket and dabbed his eyes again. “I went to pieces while driving here. She’s a talented little girl. Every time she wins an award for her piano competitions, I give her an ice cream. She’s such a sweet little thing.”

Charley detected he spoke of Annabelle in the present tense.

More tears formed in Lucas’ eyes. “I’m just the ice cream guy, but getting attached to these kids in the neighborhoods is easy. They’re like an extension of my family. I go to the ball fields while they’re playing little league and watch their games. I’ve been part of their birthday parties. I’m watching them grow up.”

“It’s disturbing. Did you see anyone with a mask?” Charley said.

“A mask? Like a ski mask? In this heat?”

“Not a ski mask, a masquerade mask,” Murphy said.

“No, that’d be just weird.”

“I have a few historical questions, Mr. Williams,” Charley said.

“Sure, you mean like where I was on a certain day? That kinda history?”

“Yes.”

“May I use my cell phone to jog my memory? I maintain a work log.”

“Sure. Where were you on Monday, the fourteenth of March?”

Lucas removed his phone from his shirt pocket and placed it on the table. “I don’t even have to look. The company makes ice cream desserts and cakes. We had an order obligation of over a hundred and fifty desserts for St. Patrick’s Day. We worked eight-hour shifts around the clock to meet the deadline.”

“Why?” Charley said.

“A freezer died on us that afternoon. We were hustling, moving the contents from one freezer to the other. I called in an emergency repair with the company who does all our heavy appliance maintenance, which costs a damn fortune. The technician arrived around six that evening. Freezer was history. Nothing would bring it back to life. Those things are expensive.”

“A freezer is expensive?” Murphy said. “I bought my chest freezer for around four hundred bucks.”

“A walk-in freezer.” Lucas grinned. “They cost a little more.”

“Ice cream company? I thought it was only a truck?”

“It’s a good size business, year round. I have fifteen trucks and forty-two employees,” Lucas said.

“For ice cream?”

“We make our own ice cream, cold desserts, such as ice cream cakes for area restaurants. We’re the only one around that makes Baked Alaska. We do specialty work for weddings, birthdays, whatever. It’s a year round business. We don’t drive around for four months ringing a bell. That’s a small part of it.”

Surprised, Charley said, “Go on.”

“About five years ago, my dad made a proposal to all the independent ice cream guys. He’d buy them out, and they’d work for him. Some took the offer. Today, those guys are still company employees making ten times the income they did with their trucks.”

“Are you saying you own every ice cream truck in the area?” Murphy said.

“No, there’re other independent trucks. Most of them buy their ice cream from me. But we’re the only one of its kind.” Lucas squinted and tapped his chin. “Wait, there’s a new one… I saw him last month. I tried to talk to him, but he got into his truck and left before I had a chance.”

“If we spoke with the company who repaired the freezer, would they verify the information you’ve given us?” Charley said.

“They sure would.” Lucas removed a pocketsize flip top spiral notebook and a pen. He scribbled and handed the torn sheet to Charley. “The work order will show how long the work took. I have to sign for the technician’s hours so they won’t cheat on their overtime.”

Charley pointed at the notebook. “What’s that?”

“I write stuff while on my runs. So I won’t forget anything.”

Charley held out her hand. “May I see it?”

Lucas handed her the flip-top. Going through it, she found an interesting piece of information. “You were on Statler Avenue on Saturday the fourteenth of May. It’s behind Lawson’s Bowling Alley.”

“A baseball field. Yeah, I was there, Pee-Wee league tournament. Funny, they call it a tourney, but all the kids get trophies. Competition is a dying art.” Lucas pointed at Charley. “That’s where I saw the independent ice cream guy. He was a strange looking fellow.”

Murphy ears perked. “How so?”

“He had the weirdest hair I’ve ever seen. Black, I mean black. To his shoulders. Shiny, but wiry, fuzzy looking. Hard to describe. His mustache was light brown, strange, considering his hair color. He had on those cheap sunglasses. The ones with the neon earpieces. Lime green.”

Charley and Murphy eyed each other.

“What was he wearing?”

“That’s another thing.” Lucas shook his index finger. “He wasn’t wearing the traditional white uniform. He had on blue-jeans and a…” Lucas rubbed his chin. “His shirt… yellow, odd color for a man.”

Murphy grunted. “I wear yellow.”

“As big as you are, you can wear whatever color you want. I won’t argue with you.” Lucas grinned. “You’re about as intimidating as they come.”

Charley snickered, glancing at Murphy her thumb pointed in his direction. “Him?”

“You don’t find him a little scary? He’s a big guy. I don’t mean fat either. Damn, he’s tall… and,” Lucas waved his hands around his torso, “he’s built.” Lucas rose from his seat and leaned over the table. “How many six-packs you got in there?” He laughed, returning to his seat.

“He’s about as intimidating as a panda,” Charley said.

“Pandas are cute.” Murphy grinned, removing his cell from his pocket. He stood and walked to the other side of the room.

Charley regained eye contact with Lucas. “Is there anything else you can tell us about him?”

“He was a small man, skinny, about yeigh high, around five-six maybe eight. Shorter than me. I’m five ten.” Lucas leaned back on the metal folding chair. “Oh, shit, I get it now. The other little girl disappeared at the bowling alley.”

Murphy stepped behind Charley, tapping her on the shoulder. “I called the refrigeration company. They verified the repair.” Murphy sat and reclined against the chair.

“Good.”

Lucas displayed a hint of fear. “You don’t think I did this, do you? I would never hurt a child. I have a seven-year-old son, a three-year-old daughter, and one on the way. I love these neighborhood kids. It’s because of them I won’t stop driving the truck.”

“Mr. Williams, you aren’t a suspect, but a possible witness. We don’t believe you’re involved. Relax. Your information is valuable. We will use it to find who’s responsible for the deaths and kidnappings of the little girls,” Charley said.

“My heart breaks for them.” Lucas’ lower lip quivered. “I know Annabelle, but not the others. I bet the other drivers do. I’ll ask them and find out for you. Is that okay?”

“I would prefer the investigators talk with your employees.”

“If any of them did this, I’ll kill ’em myself, no problem. Come to my business, unannounced if you wish, talk to them. I can’t believe any of them would do this. I’ve known most of them for years, even back to when I was a teenager.”

“These types of killers have a tendency to hide in plain sight,” Murphy said.

“I’ve heard that.”

“Mr. Williams, I’d like to ask a favor of you?” Charley said.

“Ask away.”

“If you see the independent ice-cream truck again, would you call the authorities?” Charley scribbled the number on the flip-top cover. “Do not approach or engage him. Get the license plate number, take a picture with your cell phone anything, but do not engage him.”

“Can I follow him?”

“No. Do not do that,” Murphy said. “Let’s not tip the guy. Give him a reason to go underground.”

“I’m not gonna let some piece of shit child-killer get away. I’ll do it with or without your permission.” Lucas slammed his fist on the table. “I’ll tell my employees to do the same.”

“Please, don’t. Not until all of them are cleared.”

Lucas slumped back his seat and rubbed his mustache. “That makes sense.”

“Mr. Williams, we both understand your frustration, but your safety and life are important. Do nothing that could place you or your employees in danger,” Murphy said.

Lucas rubbed his face with his hands. “All right, but if I see this prick, I’m not gonna be responsible for my actions.”

“Stop and think,” Charley said. “We aren’t sure if he is the subject. Let us do our job.”

Lucas glanced at both them. “Okay, I’ll do as you ask.”

Charley tipped her head. “Thank you, and the info you’ve given us is valuable. You’re free to go.”

“I’m not ready.” Lucas raised his index finger. “There’s one more thing.”

“What would that be?” Murphy said.

Lucas grinned at Charley. “Agent Faraday, I’m disappointed. I’ve sat through this whole interview waiting for you to recognize me.”

“How do you know me?”

“We graduated from high school together.”

“We did?” She studied his face, reducing ten years of aging. “You’re, Louie? But it says here your name is Lucas.”

Murphy’s shoulders pulled back. Finally, a piece of the past she couldn’t control. Opportunity knocked, and it was loud.

She flopped back onto her chair, bewildered. “Marching band, you played trumpet.”

“Everybody called me Louie because of Louie Armstrong. I was never good.” Lucas leaned over the table, grinned, and wagged his finger at Charley. “You were the class clown and the prankster.” Lucas chuckled. “You pulled a few.”

Murphy raised his hands, palms outward. “Wait.” He pointed at Charley. “This lady, the class clown. For real?”

Lucas laughed loud. “She was a riot.”

Murphy put his elbow on the table, propped his jaw with the palm of his hand, staring at Charley. “Care to share?”

“We all grow up sometime.” She turned her attention to Lucas. “You own the ice cream company?”