Jeopardy in January

by Camilla Chafer

  "What do you mean?"

  He opened his mouth before he seemed to think better of it. "We don't want no trouble here."

  "Of course not. Thank you for your help." I knew I wouldn't get anything more out of him. He was too suspicious and I was clearly asking the wrong questions. Plus, he seemed scared of the mysterious Tricky, although he most definitely was not scared of me.

  "She never pawned nothing," he said when I reached the door. "But she did come in looking for something just before she left."

  "Oh?"

  He leaned over and tapped the glass case that formed the counter. I stepped over, curious, and he folded back his newspaper. Underneath the case were several guns, and I noticed the case was locked. "She looked at these?"

  "She did but she never bought one," he told me. "Lotsa paperwork for these. Can't sell 'em without it."

  "Did she say why she needed a gun?" I asked, wondering just how afraid Bree might have been when she ran away from her life.

  "No, and I never asked."

  "Thank you," I told him again and this time, I left.

  Outside on the sidewalk, I checked the street for other vehicles and anyone who might have been watching me. Between the car possibly tailing us, the leopard woman and the pawn shop guy, I had plenty of reasons to feel jittery. However, the street seemed average and ordinary. A young couple with a stroller passed by, then a woman pushing a shopping cart shuffled past me.

  I activated my phone, sending a request for a car to Bree's former address. A few minutes passed before an Uber rolled up. I climbed in and we drove towards downtown. Every so often, I turned to check behind us but saw no black sedan following us.

  Chapter Twelve

  Even though my search online could not provide a bookshop in the location where Bree had listed her reference, I wanted to physically check it out. The Uber dropped me off at the location where it was supposed to be and I stepped out. The sun was bright but still cold, and the temperature was only fractionally warmer than when I left my house four hours earlier. Thanks to Jason's suggestion that we eat breakfast at the diner, I wasn't hungry yet and took my time walking the two blocks each way.

  The downtown area had nicer shops than Bree's former neighborhood. A general mix of chain restaurants and fashion stores, along with some independently-owned shops sprinkled amidst the small businesses. The traffic flowed steadily in both directions and the pedestrians were mainly comprised of older people and parents with small children. I guessed that everyone else was either at school or work. That was where I would have been too, if not for Bree's murder.

  A stationery shop now occupied the address of Bree's supposed bookshop. I stepped inside and looked around at the tables, which were stacked with pretty notepads and pencils. All the supplies were bright and pretty rather than the usual, boring, standard office inventory. If I hadn't already bought my mother's birthday gift, I could easily have found her something here.

  "Can I help you?" asked a short lady with straight, black hair, cut severely at her shoulders. She adjusted her thick-rimmed, black glasses as she asked her question.

  "Have you been here long?" I asked.

  "Six months," she said.

  "Oh." I frowned, attempting to look puzzled. "My friend, Brittany, said there was a bookshop here."

  "Nope, just us," she said, without any indication to suggest she recognized the name I just mentioned.

  "Perhaps it was next door?" I noticed a vacant store adjacent to this one.

  "No, I think that used to be a clothing store," she said. "They were only open a few months before they abruptly closed down."

  "What a shame. Was that recently?"

  "Yeah, only a few weeks ago. They definitely didn't sell any books though."

  "And there are no bookshops around here at all?"

  "There's a library, but that’s a good three blocks north," the lady replied. "We carry a small selection of children's books, if that's any help?"

  "Thanks, but no. I was actually looking for someone that worked there, rather than for a bookshop, itself." I paused. Why didn't I think of that before? I had a photo of Bree! The one from the box I'd been informally assigned to remove. I reached into my pocket, pulling out the wad of newspaper articles and the photo. Shoving all the articles back into my pocket, I held out the photo. "Perhaps you recognize her? The photo's a little old," I explained as she studied it, "but she still looks the same."

  "No, I'm sorry, I don't think I've ever seen her before," she said, shaking her head and returning the photo. I was watching her as she examined the photo and became slightly disappointed when she failed to show even a flicker of recognition. With a sinking feeling, I realized I'd been on a wild goose chase.

  "Thanks for your time," I told her before leaving. I called another Uber, and began heading to the central library. Sinking into the backseat, I tried not to feel too disheartened. I was glad I followed the lead, even though it turned out to be a dead end. At least, the apartment gave me some promising clues but I wasn't sure what to do with some of the information. Like the stuff about Tricky and his creepy friends, or the gun Bree once considered purchasing but ultimately left town without. I debated over calling Detective Logan, but later decided I didn't want to risk annoying him with my limited investigation. He'd been very clear when he told me to stay away from Bree's apartment and I was pretty sure he wouldn't be pleased about my continuing to look into her past.

  As we drove through the city, I pulled out the articles, smoothing out the somewhat crumpled paper to read again. What could have interested Bree so much in these articles? The one thing they had in common was that they were all thefts. By the time we pulled up to the curb in front of the library, I also learned that in each theft, the prime suspects were gang members working together to pull off the heists. However, none of the articles offered any information about how they might have accomplished them.

  I paid the Uber driver and began the search for my friend. Back in my college days, I interned at the library one long summer. A woman named Mary Ruth was my mentor, and she cheerfully instructed me on all of the practical applications for working in a library. We'd kept in touch over the years and I was happy to see her now.

  "This is such a nice surprise!" said Mary Ruth. Moving around the counter, she reached out to embrace me. "I doubt this is purely a social visit, however. You sounded so worried when you called."

  "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

  "Sure. I'm due for my lunch break so we can go someplace quiet." As Mary Ruth and I walked into her office, a part of the library that was off limits to patrons, I explained what happened to Bree at the Calendar Library. I also told her what I'd subsequently discovered. When I finished, she asked, "Do you think she came to your town for no good reason?"

  "I'm not sure. At first, I suspected she could be hiding from someone who wanted to hurt her. Now I think she might have been hiding from someone she was involved with, and possibly, in a criminal way. She had a checkered past."

  "It does sound like she might have fallen afoul with the wrong people." Mary Ruth gestured for me to take a seat on the battered, old, leather couch. "I'm not sure how I can be of any help though?"

  "I wanted to take a quick look at some of the digital files. I was hoping to find something about Bree, maybe the reason why she thought all of these articles were worth keeping." I handed the articles to Mary Ruth.

  "I doubt you'll find anything about that young lady. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, but these might be a possibility." Mary Ruth read through the clippings quickly but I felt sure she took everything in. She was a smart and efficient reader with an excellent memory. "I remember this one," she said, holding up one clipping. "It caused quite a commotion."

  "What do you mean?" I asked, reaching for the article. Mary Ruth was referring to the latest one, the only one missing a newspaper name.

  "It happened right here in the city," she said. "It made big news. The jewelry store in ques
tion caters to a very wealthy crowd. If I remember correctly, the thieves were reportedly a team of criminals; and the general consensus was that they scoped the store out many weeks before they actually robbed it."

  "It says here that they stole uncut jewels as well as cut jewels. Uncut means they weren't already set into the various pieces of jewelry?"

  "That's correct. There's some lovely books all about jewels and jewelry that you’ll find on the third floor if you have enough time. It's not mentioned in the article but the report I heard on the news said that the gang got away with a lot of ready-made pieces like earrings, necklaces and so on, but they also managed to get inside a vault and stole the uncut pieces too. Apparently, after kidnapping the manager and forcing him to open the vault, the gang left him there, still tied up."

  "How awful!"

  "That's not even the worst part. The gang also left someone with his family just in case he tried to double-cross them in any way."

  My jaw dropped. "That's horrible!"

  "Not a gang you wanna mess with. Anyway, the news reports came to the same conclusion as the article. No one was ever caught."

  "Do you think there's a link to these, or some way that they could be connected?" I asked, spreading the articles between us.

  "It seems like it. Maybe your friend saw the connections between them."

  "What if she actually knew who was behind it?" I wondered. "That would have given her a good reason to skip town and hide out."

  "Doesn't explain why someone would have murdered her."

  "No, not exactly, but maybe this gang was desperate to keep her quiet. They might have assumed she could decide at anytime to report them."

  "That would be quite a story to take to the police, especially without any evidence."

  I thought about that. Mary Ruth was right; Bree would have no guarantee the police would believe her. I felt sure she wouldn't dare risk the chance of blowing her cover without first receiving the assurance that she would be taken seriously. The very fact that she was living under an assumed name would already have established her as a liar, which wasn’t a good start.

  Meredith's words drifted back to my mind. What did Bree say about laying low somewhere on a beach? Those didn't sound like the words of a fugitive who was prepared to tell the police everything. It sounded more like she wanted to keep hiding just as much as the members of the gang did. It left a very troubling taste in my mouth.

  "Sara?"

  "Hmm? Yes?" I momentarily failed to realize Mary Ruth was talking.

  "I asked if you wanted to see the digital archives?"

  "Yes, please," I said, smiling. I didn’t want my friend to know how worried I really was.

  "Follow me."

  The digital archives were housed in a room on the other side of the library. Two banks of long desks held several computers and the room was empty when we arrived. "Sometimes, we get students in here, or other scholarly types," Mary Ruth explained, "but it's usually quiet around this time. I'll show you how to operate the machines. I think you'll find them a lot easier than searching micro-fiche. Isn't technology a wonderful tool?"

  I agreed it was. Mary Ruth showed me how to operate the search engine as well as how to refine the parameters and narrow it down to certain dates and/or locations. After practicing on my own a couple of times, and refreshing my memory, she excused herself, but not before reminding me to be sure to say goodbye when I left.

  I first tried entering Bree's name, using all kinds of different combinations of her first and last names. I even tried different spellings but each search came up empty. Next, I sought more information about the robberies. However, excluding the final theft, the one that Mary Ruth recalled, there weren't any follow-up stories. There was also no trace of any connection between the thefts. The last theft turned out to be the biggest of all. Owing to its violent and audacious conduct, it spurred several more stories, each generally regurgitating the last until there was no new information to print.

  Finally, I searched for any other similar thefts but the results didn't tell me anything that I hadn't already lifted from Bree's sad box of private possessions.

  Resting back in my chair, I sighed. It was a good idea to try the searches but I knew I was defeated. I sent a simple text to Jason, telling him I was free whenever he was before I left to find Mary Ruth so I could say goodbye to her while I waited.

  ~

  "How was your day?"

  I jumped, blinking back into reality when I found Jason standing at my side. I leaned against the thick, brick balustrade leading up the steps to the library. I’d been enjoying a pleasant few minutes of people watching. Apparently, I missed seeing the one person I'd actually been waiting for.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine," I said, laughing at my reaction. Tension drained from me instantly. "I was temporarily lost in a world of my own. What did you say?"

  "I asked how was your day? Did you have a nice visit?"

  "Not what I expected," I told him truthfully, "but definitely interesting. How was your meeting?"

  "Like any other. Everyone talked too much before we made new appointments for more meetings." Jason rolled his eyes and I laughed.

  "I don't think I could work all day in an office," I admitted. "Too much bureaucracy."

  "Tell me about it! I'm sure your day must have been better than mine. Did you have lunch?"

  "I forgot to!" I patted my stomach and stifled a hunger pang. "Breakfast filled me up but now I'm sort of hungry again."

  "My boss took me out for lunch and I could only push the salad around with my fork." Jason mimed doing just that. "I might have room for pie on the way back to Calendar although I’m in no hurry to leave if you aren't."

  "Afraid the small town boredom will infect you if you get there too soon?" I teased.

  Jason laughed. "Not at all. Calendar is a great town! Not at all boring! I bet there's a lot brewing under the surface that most people don't know about."

  "I'm not so sure about that. The town gossips are masters at their job."

  "I guess they must have their hands full now. Oh, I'm sorry!" He stopped suddenly as my face fell. "I didn't mean to be so crass. I wasn't implying your friend's death was fodder for gossip."

  "I'm pretty sure that’s all everyone is gossiping about," I told him, placing a hand on his arm to show him I didn't take any offense. I didn't get the impression Jason intended to imply anything or suggest more than how small town gossip worked. "There isn't much too tell, unfortunately."

  "Detective Logan doesn't have any leads yet?"

  "I don't think so."

  "What about Bree's family? They must be very upset."

  "I don't think she had any. Or, at least, she wasn’t in touch with any family members," I said. I began thinking about how Bree's former roommate described her upbringing. Even if Detective Logan tracked someone down, I wasn't sure anyone would care enough about Bree to claim her body. That was a sad thought.

  "That's too bad," said Jason. I nodded in agreement, and the two of us stood in silence for a moment.

  "I have two brothers and two sisters," he said, surprising me. "I'm the youngest and my parents are still married."

  "Really?"

  "Which part?"

  "All of it."

  "Then, yes, really. Shall we go inside?" Jason indicated the public library that I exited from only a few minutes before. "Or shall we take the car?"

  "Let's go inside," I told him. "There's a nice exhibition I was looking at when you called to say you were almost here."

  "Lead the way." Jason held out his arm and I took it, pleased and surprised at the gallant gesture. "Are you and your family locals?" he asked as we stepped inside.

  "You mean from Calendar? Yes. My mother lives there. My father passed away a few years ago."

  "I'm sorry."

  "You keep saying that."

  "That I'm sorry? I suppose I do. I just can’t keep from putting my f
oot in my mouth."

  "Don't start licking your toes." I laughed at Jason's puzzled frown. "That's what my dad used to say whenever my mom or I put our feet in our mouths. I don't have any siblings. I would have liked at least one, I think. I envy you for having all of yours."

  "I can lend you one or two," he joked. "I envy you too. You never had to share toys or a bedroom."

  "I envy you always having someone to play with."

  "I envy you never having to wear hand-me-downs."

  "No way! You wore your sisters' clothes?" I gasped in mock shock as I deliberately took his comment literally.

  "Only until college," he quipped, just as sharply.

  We passed a pleasant hour, walking around the library and browsing the exhibition. I picked up a couple of paperbacks from the used sale shelf, and Jason waited with his arm again. He was always ready with something new to point out to me or to make an interesting comment regarding the architecture or history of the grand, old building. It felt nice to walk arm-in-arm, almost like we were a couple. The more I relaxed, the less I thought about Bree, or the man in her apartment, or the car following us. I didn't even notice the time until Jason checked his watch. He announced we would have to leave soon if we intended to sample the famous pie and still get home before the night closed in. As he said it, I must admit a little ripple of guilt fluttered through me. Not only did I almost forget about my date with Tom, but I still needed to be home in time to take a bath and get dressed.

  "Is it wrong if I say that I'm glad your car blew a tire?" Jason asked as we rolled to a stop in front of my house. That was a good three hours, and two large slices of pie, later.

  "If it is, then I'm guilty too," I replied. "The journey just wouldn't have been the same alone."

  "Truer words could not be said," agreed Jason. "You're pretty good company, Sara."

  A blush started to fill my cheeks. "I would never have enjoyed the best pancakes in the world without you. Or the best pie."

  "See? I have my perks." He paused, glanced away, then turned back again, and I frowned at the sudden shyness I saw in him again. "I'd like to take you to dinner if you don't have any plans tonight."