by T Lockhaven
Ellie reached out and took his hand. It felt cold and frail. “You’re going to be fine.” She smiled gently. “You have a strong alibi, and the memory card is going to show the police what Drew was up to.”
George nodded. “You’re right, Ellie, I just don’t want anything to happen to Ed or his family. I’ll give Gordon Sparks a call; he’ll know what to do.”
“You can use my guest room if you would like some privacy,” Michael offered.
“Thank you.” George squeezed Ellie’s hand, retraced his steps down the hallway to the guest room, and shut the door.
“Look,” Michael said when they were alone. “I know that George thinks Ed is innocent, but honestly, I think he’s the prime suspect. We know it’s not George, and it couldn’t be Mrs. Mallory—she could barely lift a five-pound bag of sugar—and her husband, well, he wears Izod Lacoste sweaters, so enough said.”
“It could be Tony, the electrical worker,” Olivia suggested.
“Maybe,” Ellie said, “but from what we saw, he was acting like a total imbecile, but it didn’t escalate to the same level as Ed…well,” she corrected herself, “at least we don’t have evidence that he went as far as Ed.”
“We’re forgetting a huge piece of the puzzle,” Olivia exclaimed, “the black book.”
“That’s right.” Ellie nodded. “He tried to get George to deliver the book to someone at the party.”
“Which meant Drew couldn’t do it himself…he already knew he was in trouble,” Michael suggested.
“I wonder if he stole the book, realized what was inside, and then decided he was in way over his head.” Ellie suggested.
“I think you’re right,” Michael said, “however, the only person that’s going to know the answer—”
“Is his accomplice,” Ellie said, completing Michael’s thought.
“We’ve got to get to the Beach Comber Motel,” Olivia stated, “before she skips town.”
The trio pulled on their winter coats as they waited for George to finish his phone call. Ellie pressed the button on her fob to warm up her car.
“Are you guys heading out?” George inquired, surprised that everyone had their coats on.
“Yes,” Michael replied, “we’ve got a lead that we want to chase down. Were you able to get in touch with Gordon?”
“Yes, yes, he’s going to pick me up here. I mean,” George smiled, somewhat embarrassed, “if it’s okay that I stay here.”
“Certainly, that’s fine with me, make yourself at home.” Michael paused in the doorway. “George, are you sure Drew didn’t say anything about who you were supposed to give the book to?”
George hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “No, Michael, I’m sorry. Just that it was someone at the Bernstein party.”
Michael couldn’t help but feel George was hiding something from them. He decided to push just a little more. “Yeah, almost impossible to figure out who. There was probably over a hundred people there.”
“At least,” George said.
“Did you see anything inside the book, or maybe initials on the cover, anything?”
“Nothing,” George replied. “It was a black book with a leather cover, the size of an address book.”
“We need to go, Michael,” Ellie insisted, “we’re running out of time.”
Chapter 8
The Beach Comber Motel was located on the outskirts of Lana Cove festooned between a nearly empty strip mall and a mobile home lot. The motel had recently been painted a latte brown with white trim, making it look like the world’s saddest gingerbread house. The rooms were tiny, rectangular boxes aligned in a row, each door decorated with a flimsy, plastic Christmas wreath with a plastic bow.
A neon-yellow oval sign sat balanced atop a blue-neon ocean wave. The oval sign was split into halves: the bottom was sandy brown and decorated with seashells, the top a brilliant blue. The words Beach Comber Motel beckoned to the discreet, and the bright neon-red vacancy let passersby know they were available to entertain their transgressions for only twenty-nine dollars a night.
Ellie eased her car into the motel lot and pulled in between a Jeep and a pickup truck, the back filled with snow-covered firewood.
Three police cars, lights flashing, were parked in front of the motel. The door to room number seventeen was open, and a uniformed officer watched them warily as they exited Ellie’s car.
“That’s not a good sign,” Ellie said under her breath.
“Olivia, Ellie,” Michael whispered, grabbing Ellie by the sleeve of her jacket. “That blue Honda.” He tilted his head. “That’s Drew’s car.”
“Oh no.” Ellie shook her head, worried about the safety of the woman. “I should have called the police—”
Suddenly, a man burst out the door of room seventeen, his hands cuffed behind his back, followed by two police officers.
“I already told you! I heard yelling, the door was open, I just wanted to make sure she was okay! How was I supposed to know it was the television? I’m a hero.”
“That’s the guy from the pictures,” Olivia said. “Tony, the electrician.”
“Livs, there’s Ryan.” Ellie pointed at one of the officers escorting Tony to the back of the squad car.
“Ask my wife, she’ll tell you!” Tony shouted. “I was only trying to straighten things out.” He nodded toward a red-haired woman, bundled in a blue winter coat, an angry expression on her face.
“Yeesh, that guy might be safer in jail,” Michael joked quietly.
“I think you’re right,” Olivia said. “That’s one angry woman.”
“Ryan,” Ellie called out, waving to him.
The officer looked up, stared for a moment, and then his face relaxed when he recognized her. He spoke to his partner—Ellie imagined he was telling him that he knew her—and then he walked over. “Ellie, what are you doing here?”
“Helping Mr. West here do a little sleuthing,” Ellie said, arching an eyebrow. “Ryan, this is Michael West, future bestselling author, but mostly just unemployed.”
Ryan gave Michael the once-over and then reached out and shook his hand.
“And you know Livs,” Ellie said.
“Yes, of course. Hi, Olivia.” Ryan gave her an awkward smile and an even more awkward wave, which Michael could tell he immediately regretted.
“Is she okay? The woman, is she okay?” Ellie asked before Ryan could ask her any more questions.
“Luckily, she wasn’t here, but we did find this guy going through her stuff. Claims she—”
“Detective Mitchell,” the other police officer called out, motioning him over.
“Just a minute,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes. “Let me go see what Baxter needs. I’ll be right back.”
“One quick question,” Ellie said. “Why is he after the woman who was staying here?”
“Long story short, he claims that he came here to confront her. Said she came on to him at a bar. Said they shared a couple drinks, the woman gave him a hug and left. Unfortunately for him, a couple of his wife’s friends were at the bar and snapped some pictures of him with the woman. He said he brought his wife here to prove nothing happened.”
“And he heard screaming inside,” Ellie added, “so he burst into the room to make sure she was okay?”
“Yeah.” Ryan nodded. “The television was really loud; I’ll give him that. We got an anonymous tip that an assault was in progress, so we hightailed it over here and found this gentleman in her room. I’m sorry, I gotta see what Officer Jackson needs.”
“Sure, sure, thank you, Ryan.”
“So,” Olivia asked as Ryan walked away, “do you think Tony’s telling the truth?”
“My gut tells me yes,” Ellie replied, “and I think Ryan’s does, too. Who would bring their wife over here to confront another woman if he was going to do something…insane? I’m going to talk to his wife. You two wait here, I think she’ll be more receptive if it’s just one person and not three.”
“Fair en
ough. Come on, Michael.” Olivia motioned toward Ellie’s car. “I think we’ve just been relegated to the children’s table.”
“Fine.” Michael sniffed defiantly, a devious twinkle in his eyes. “Don’t be surprised if we have this entire case solved by time you get back.”
Ellie disappeared inside the motel’s office and returned a minute later with a hot cup of coffee. “Heck of a night,” she said to the woman. “Here’s a cup of coffee.”
“Thank you.”
Ellie guessed the woman was about forty, her eyes tired, her cheeks and nose red from the cold. She cradled the cup for a moment, blew across the surface, and took a sip.
“Horrible night.” She shook her head. “And who are you? Are you with the police department? You seem familiar.”
“No, ma’am, I’m Ellie Banks. I own the Bitter Sweet Café.”
“That’s right.” The woman smiled wanly. “Delicious coffee, and a lovely atmosphere. My name’s Rita. So—”
“Yes,” Ellie explained, “you’re wondering why I’m, well, we,” she gestured to Michael and Olivia, “are here.”
The woman tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, as if to say: Well, tell me.
“We were driving down Ridgewood, and we saw the police cars. I recognized my friend over there,” she pointed at Officer Ryan, “he’s the guy talking on his phone, and, well, my curiosity got the better of me, so I stopped to see what was going on.”
“Yeah, seems like curiosity got ahold of my husband, too, who’s over there, the guy in handcuffs.” She glanced at him and shook her head. “I’ve been married to him for twenty years—this Tuesday is our twenty-first anniversary—and this is what I get. My husband gawking at some spring chicken. And then to make matters worse, he gets arrested breaking into her motel room.”
“I’m so sorry…but why would he be barging into a woman’s motel room?”
“It’s nothing,” the woman said bitterly. She sipped her drink and waved as if shooing away the conversation.
Ellie took a gulp of her coffee and stared out at the parking lot, giving the woman her space.
“Ah, what the heck…. Tony’s a good guy,” she started. “He’s smart, but he doesn’t have any common sense. He admitted to buying the tramp a couple of beers and giving her a hug, but he said that was as far as it went, and I believe him. I’m mad because she stole his wallet. She went to the restroom and never returned, and when he went to pay his tab, he realized his wallet was missing. He put two and two together, ran out into the parking lot, just in time to see her jump into a blue car with Florida plates and speed off. That’s the car,” she said, pointing at the blue Honda.
“How the heck did you two ever find her?”
“It took almost a day and a half. He figured she was from out of town because of the Florida plates. So, he mapped off Lana Cove, and we have been to every bed and breakfast, hotel and motel in Lana Cove.”
“And you decided to come with him?”
“After you get texts and photos from your friends that your husband is buying another woman drinks, and then your husband declares he’s going to search all of Lana Cove until he finds her….” Rita’s eyes filled with tears. “I love my Tony, but I don’t like being made a fool of, and because of his stupidity, he’ll probably lose a huge contract at the Bono estate.”
“Wait, how would he lose his job? I’m sure Mr. Bono would understand that you had to take care of a few things since your husband’s wallet was stolen.”
“I wish it were that simple,” Rita explained. “I couldn’t care less about the woman. It’s just that, we really needed this contract. The Bonos have a very strict security protocol for employees. Tony’s been working for six weeks to get approved to work at their estate. He’s been through background checks, his company has been investigated, and they even ran a background check on me. He was supposed to begin work today.”
“I guess I’m just being dense,” Ellie said, “but if your husband passed the background check, and they verified the legitimacy of his business….”
“The problem is, what was in his wallet. My husband was given a super-encrypted, all-access key card to the Bono estate. To put it simply, you do not lose this card. Now they would have to reissue cards for all of their staff and recode their alarm systems. That’s the reason this is all so heartbreaking. This was a high-paying job and also a tremendous opportunity for Tony to make a name for himself and to land higher-paying clientele. Now, it’s all over.”
Ellie put her hand on Rita’s shoulder. “Listen, Officer Ryan is a good guy. I’ve known him since high school. I’ll do what I can for you and your husband, maybe they’ll find that wallet, and he won’t have to make that call….”
“Thank you so much. Tony’s a good guy, too, he’s never been in trouble.”
Ellie handed Rita her phone. “Type in your number, and I’ll let you know what I find out. I’ll do whatever I can do, I promise you.”
The woman nodded and closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispered quietly as Ellie walked away.
Chapter 9
“So nice of you to return, Ellie. I’ll have you know that in your absence, we busted the case wide open,” Michael exclaimed.
“Really?”
Michael nodded and then shook his head. “Nope, we’ve got nothing. We know it’s not George—”
“I can almost guarantee it’s not this guy,” Ellie said. “His wife’s been playing Where’s Waldo with him for the past thirty-six hours.”
“I saw you speaking with Tony’s wife.” Officer Ryan joined the group. “Want to compare stories?”
“Sure, Rita said that her husband met Jane Doe at a bar, that he’d bought her a couple drinks, she went in for a hug—and relieved him of his wallet. He realized his wallet was missing when he went to pay his tab, and she claims that they’ve spent most of the past thirty-six hours scouring Lana Cove for her car.”
Ryan nodded. “Did she say anything about how he got into the room?”
“She didn’t mention that. She did mention that he’d just landed a very important contracting job at the Bono estate, and the wallet had his new security card in there. I have a feeling that it was more about getting that card back than anything.”
“The Bono compound is like a fortress,” Ryan concurred. “Losing that security card definitely isn’t going to bode well for Tony.”
“What’s going to happen to him?”
“We’ll bring him and his wife in for questioning—at this point he’s looking at criminal trespass—but we’ll see what the captain says.”
“Did you find his wallet?” Michael asked.
“We did.” Ryan nodded. “The credit cards, cash, and security card were gone.”
“You didn’t happen to find a little black book, did you, like an address book?” Ellie asked.
Officer Ryan closed his notebook and narrowed his eyes. “Ellie Banks, what aren’t you telling me?”
Ellie kicked herself. “You know George, George Owens?”
“Yes, and if you know of his whereabouts, Ellie, he is a suspect in a homicide investigation.”
“George showed up at Michael’s house….”
Ryan’s mouth tightened into a thin line.
“Ryan, this was before we knew anything had happened.”
“Where is George now?”
“After we found out Drew had been killed, and George was a suspect, we told him he needed to turn himself over to the police. He called Gordon Sparks, his lawyer. They were on their way to the Lana Cove police department.”
Ryan sighed. Ellie could tell he was upset with her, and rightfully so.
“What did George tell you?” he asked.
“He said Drew called him and told him to meet him at the Schooners restaurant if he wanted his job back. He said he needed him to do a favor for him, that he would explain the details in person.”
“We have numerous witness accounts,” Ryan confirmed, “t
hat placed George at Schooners with Drew. Did he say anything else?”
“He told George he had a black book and he needed him to give it to someone at the Bernstein party. According to George, Drew acted like it was life or death. It frightened George so much that he refused.”
“Did he say who he was supposed to give the book to?”
“No. But George did say that Drew kept looking around nervously. He even tried to force George to take the book, but when he wouldn’t, George said Drew slammed him into the wall and took off running outside.”
Ellie reached into her pocket and handed Ryan the memory card. “He said Drew dropped it when he slipped and fell on ice running to his car.”
“Any idea what’s on it?” Ryan asked.
“It’s basically filled with photos of people Drew was blackmailing, pictures from the art expo, people’s homes…a virtual who’s who connecting Drew to a huge web of crimes.”
“George gave you this card?”
“Yes, when he showed up at Michael’s. He found it when he was walking to his car, on the ground where Drew slipped.”
“Hmm.” Ryan pulled out a baggie and placed the memory card inside. “Ellie, you said George told you he would get his job back if he delivered the book to someone at the Bernstein party?”
“That’s right. George told me and my friends that it wasn’t until he left the Bernsteins, and stopped for coffee at Waverly’s, that he found out Drew had been killed. He saw the report on the news, saw Drew in his front yard, panicked, and drove straight to Michael’s house.”
“I just want to say,” Michael spoke up, “that my house is not a safe haven for individuals wanted by the police. Please continue, Ellie.”
Ryan’s jaw tightened. “Ellie, George didn’t work the Bernstein party. My family went to it—and the Santa that they had definitely wasn’t George.”
“What?” Ellie gasped. “But he told us…. Why would he lie to us?”
Officer Ryan fished his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in a series of numbers.
Michael, Ellie, and Olivia stood breathlessly waiting.
