‘Newbridge PD is missing stuff,’ Ed said to the investigator. ‘They’re amateurs.’
‘Don’t worry, Mr. Delaney,’ said Joey D’App, ‘I’ll get to the bottom of it. When I was working homicide in the three-two on the west side, I usually knew who did it on day one. My job was to prove with hard evidence what my gut already figured out. They used to call me The Velvet Hammer. You don’t hear me coming, but you feel it when I do.’
Ed gave Joey D’App what little documentation he had, and the private investigator went to the Rochester area to snoop around. A week later, he confirmed some things Ed had suspected. The big reveal was that the first cop to arrive at Quinn Roberts’ apartment had assumed it was a suicide and didn’t seal off the premises. Ed hadn’t known that. Not surprisingly, the cops didn’t share that tidbit with the Delaney family.
‘Look, Mr. Delaney, none of the cops came out and said it, but it was obvious they had their eyes on your son-in-law,’ said Joey D’App when he called Big Ed from Rochester. ‘That’s my gut. I’ve been doing this for almost thirty years, and it’s almost never wrong.’
‘What does that mean then?’ Ed asked.
‘From what I could tell, it sounds like they have a piece of evidence that’s conclusive and pins it on your son-in-law,’ said Joey D’App. ‘But the DA excluded it, because of the way it was collected. If the crime scene was contaminated, that would do it. Every cop I talked to, off the record, thought your son-in-law was somehow involved. I’m sorry to say, it doesn’t look like there’s going to be an arrest anytime soon. In my professional opinion, Newbridge PD messed it up.’
‘Now what?’
‘I hate to tell you this, Mr. Delaney, but they may never make an arrest.’
And that was that. His beautiful daughter was dead, and an asshole was walking around without a care in the world. Over and over he asked himself why one of her kids hadn’t picked up the phone and let him know what was going on? They should have looked out for their mother, he thought. He couldn’t forgive his grandchildren, and at the same time, he couldn’t forgive himself. His job was to always protect her, and he had failed.
Chapter 63
His oversized shopping cart was loaded with gigantic packages of junk food and an apple pie big enough to feed an army. Long lines crisscrossed the large warehouse supermarket. Some were waiting to check out and others, like John McQuillan and his girlfriend, Marie, were lined up for some Costco free food samples. It had been a few months since Quinn Roberts’ murder, and McQuillan was relieved to have his mind on something besides homicide. He and Marie would often make a morning out of Costco and eat enough so they could skip lunch entirely. Polishing off a mini taco, he saw a familiar face through the crowd but couldn’t place the guy.
Somebody out of context can throw you. Your mailman in a bathing suit at the beach or your dentist eating a burger at TGI Fridays, it can take a minute. Usually, you’d recognize your dentist in a second, but in a strange location wearing different clothes, it can take longer. McQuillan stared at the faces across the floor, struggling to place them.
He nudged his girlfriend.
‘See that guy over there? The one in the light blue sweatshirt.’
‘Where?’
‘The guy holding the big box of trail mix,’ he whispered.
‘Where?’
‘Earth to Marie, over there,’ he said, exasperated. ‘The middle-aged guy in blue standing by the big containers of ketchup.’
‘Yeah, I see him,’ she said. ‘What about him?’
‘He looks familiar,’ he whispered.
‘Not to me,’ she said, munching on her taco.
He begged his brain to kick into high gear. The older guy in light blue was with the twenty-something girl and boy. He knew them. He was sure of it.
Then, it hit him. The guy in blue was Alec Roberts. The smug little shit who murdered his wife. He’d been thinking about Roberts every day for the past four months. How could he not recognize that murderer right away? He hoped he wasn’t losing his edge.
Every morning since it happened, he looked at Quinn Roberts’ face. Her sister, Erin, had sent every police officer on the investigation a small framed picture of Quinn. Each cop also received a handwritten note from Erin begging them not to forget that her sister was a real person who was loved, not just a victim. McQuillan had her picture on his desk. As far as he was concerned, Roberts should be in maximum security instead of sampling andouille sausage at Costco.
Seeing Alec Roberts enjoying himself, moving freely around the store while that beautiful woman was in the ground churned up rage inside the policeman. He knew her husband killed her and that his own investigation was practically dead. All his leads were drying up.
‘Watch the cart, Marie, I’ve got to do something,’ he said as he walked directly over to Alec Roberts.
Alec was laughing as he ate a sample of macaroni and cheese out of a small paper cup. The detective planted himself directly in front of him and put his finger right in Alec’s face, practically touching his nose.
‘You murdered your wife, Roberts,’ McQuillan spewed. ‘Every cop in the department knows you killed her. You’re not fooling anyone. We haven’t figured out how you did it, but we will. And we’re gonna get you, Roberts. You can count on it. Chew on that.’
The detective walked back to his girlfriend with a smile on his face and the two resumed their shopping.
‘Feel better now that you got that off your chest?’ asked Marie.
‘A lot better although I’ll probably regret it tomorrow. Not a chance Roberts is going to keep our conversation to himself.’
‘You think he’s going to file a complaint?’
‘Absolutely, but I’ll deal with it.’
As he had predicted, the following Monday, Alec Roberts’ attorney filed a complaint with the Newbridge Police. McQ was summoned to the Chief’s office shortly thereafter. He was given a slap on the wrist and told to shop at Walmart next time. Alec Roberts did not have any fans in Newbridge.
Chapter 64
It was painful but at the same time therapeutic when Colleen, Mike and Erin put up the Memorial Page for Quinn on Facebook. They picked their favorite pictures of her from their photo albums and their phones and scanned them in. Some were from when they were little and others from when she was older. They found shots from each decade of her life to share with the world. The three sisters had been together for all of those moments, at every age, as kids, teenagers, young mothers. Sisters and best friends.
In their last face-to-face meeting with the Newbridge police, the cops suggested the Delaneys could help the investigation through their Facebook page by watching for any unusual activity; comments that were out of place or from people they didn’t know.
‘You never know where a lead will come from,’ said Detective McQuillan. ‘If you see anything odd, let us know. We’ll take any help we can get.’
After a few months, they had over two hundred followers to Quinn’s page; mostly cousins, high school and college friends and Quinn’s neighbors from Avon. Around that time, Hannah told Erin that her father already had a steady girlfriend. Erin and Mike weren’t surprised. They had since learned that Alec had cheated on Quinn for most of their marriage.
Erin checked the Facebook page often and one day a few months after it went up, she noticed two unknown men had started to follow Quinn’s page. One was named Rich Morelle and the other, Devin Borke. She didn’t remember Quinn ever mentioning those names, so she texted Mike and some of Quinn’s college friends. Nobody recognized their names. They checked with Hannah and Jack and the Avon Ladies, too. Nobody knew them.
Erin did a deep dive into Morelle and Borke’s Facebook profiles, examining their pictures, friends, and postings. Since Quinn died, she had become a master at forensic Facebook sleuthing. If she dug long enough and went down a bunch of rabbit holes, she’d find out a lot. It just took patience.
From their profiles, Morelle and Borke appeared to b
e in their forties, close to Quinn’s age. Borke lived on Long Island, nowhere near Newbridge and seemed to be single. Morelle, on the other hand, lived in Buffalo, only about an hour and fifteen minutes from Quinn’s apartment. He had pictures of himself with kids but no wife. Erin figured he was divorced.
Maybe the two guys amounted to nothing, but they stuck out as peculiar. She sent the information over to Detective McQuillan but never heard back on whether the cops checked them out. The cops were rarely transparent and only shared what they wanted claiming that they “would compromise the integrity of the investigation” if they told the Delaney’s too much. The Delaney’s usually interpreted that as “the cops had nothing”.
About six months after Quinn died, Erin was poking around again on Facebook posting more pictures of her sister. She noticed her Facebook Messenger icon had a red alert mark on it. There was a message there from someone she didn’t know. Her name was Denise Orrem.
Hi Erin,
I’m sorry about the loss of your sister. I found your name in a newspaper article about Quinn’s murder. Last night, I met a guy in a bar, and we planned a kayaking date for later this week. During our conversation over drinks, he mentioned his wife had been killed three years ago. I told my friends about him, and they convinced me to Google him before I went anywhere. That’s when I saw all the newspaper articles talking about the murder saying it happened just a few months ago, not years. I’m positive he said it happened three years ago. Why would he lie about that? I hate to bother you with this, but I didn’t know who else to ask. Am I overreacting? Should I be concerned or am I being overly suspicious? I really liked him, and he was never arrested, but I figured you would know better than anyone. Again, I’m so sorry to bother you and for the loss of your sister.
Thank you, Denise Orr.
Hi Denise,
Stay away from Alec! You are absolutely right, my sister didn’t die three years ago; it has only been months. Alec is a world class liar and still a suspect in my sister’s murder investigation. They were in the middle of a contentious divorce, and the police don’t have enough evidence to arrest him. Whether he did it or not, he’s not a nice guy. I would suggest stay away from him.
Erin
Hi Erin,
Wow, so scary. When I met Alec, he asked me how long I had been divorced, and I asked him the same. He told me he was a widower and that his wife had been murdered three years ago. I thought it was odd that he had this weird half-smile on his face when he said it but figured it was his way of hiding his pain. After I Googled him and read about the murder, I canceled the date. I want to meet a guy, but I’m not that desperate. Thank you for letting me know. I’m so sorry for your loss. D.
Chapter 65
QUINN
Seriously, Alec? You told the woman in the bar that I died three years ago? It hasn’t even been a year, who’s the liar now?
You smiled when you told her I died. She thought you were smiling to hide your pain. That’s a laugh. You’re not the person I thought you were. You’re a narcissistic psychopath, just like Dr. Shapiro said. I’m starting not to like you at all.
Chapter 66
While Alec was seeing Alison Moore, he was also involved with another woman named Cindy Kelleher. Neither woman had any idea the other existed.
Cindy had joined an outdoor hiking group for singles online hoping to meet someone who shared her passion for nature and exercise. That was where she met Alec. The group met for an afternoon guided hike at a state park with marked trails. It was a beautiful, warm summer day, and Cindy was aware of him looking at her when the group started up the mountain. As they walked, she noticed he made a point of being near her. After about twenty minutes, they struck up a conversation.
He made her laugh and she liked that. She learned he was a History professor at the University of Rochester. She was a bit of a history buff herself and was drawn to intelligent guys. A man with advanced degrees was a huge turn on for Cindy. Towards the end of the hike, Alec asked her if she would like to go for a drink or a coffee afterward. They planned to meet at Canfield’s, a wine bar near Rochester. The drinks and conversation went so well they decided to order dinner.
‘I got divorced five years ago,’ Cindy said. ‘No kids, just me and Boo.’
‘Who?’
It took Cindy a second but then she got Alec’s little joke.
‘Ha ha. Boo-hoo. She’s a Maltese.’
‘Why Boo?’
‘Because she’s white, like a ghost.’
Alec laughed. Cindy smiled. Not a naturally funny person, it made her feel good that she amused him. He told her about his grown son and daughter and mentioned his wife had died. As the evening progressed, he opened up more and said his wife had actually been murdered.
‘The police are still looking for her killer,’ he said with hope in his voice. ‘It’s been rough, especially on my kids.’
He looked sad when he told Cindy about his wife’s death. He said she reminded him of her. Same height, dark hair and fair complexion. Cindy’s heart broke for him. Poor man, she thought. How awful. No one should have to go through that.
After their fabulous first date, Cindy thought he might be ‘the one’. Being with Alec was so easy. They started seeing each other even though they lived more than an hour apart. The distance made things challenging but they made it work.
After two weeks Alec spent the night at her place. He didn’t rock Cindy’s world in the bedroom department but she was in her late forties, and it was nice to have a man in her bed again. After their first overnight, Alec stayed over whenever they got together. Two months later, he suggested they go away for a weekend. That same weekend, Alison Moore was out of town at a trade show.
‘It’s only October, and it’s still warm,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a tent, let’s you and me go camping.’
That weekend they were completely in sync. They hiked, fished and cooked dinner around the campfire while singing corny country songs that neither could remember all the words to. At night, they zipped themselves into their tent and snuggled inside their sleeping bags. That weekend, Cindy fantasized about marrying Alec.
Everything was going great until Cindy accidentally discovered Alec had another girlfriend. She was playing around on Facebook and discovered Alison Moore. Based on the dates on Alison’s posted pictures and comments, it looked like Alec had been seeing Alison for over a year, long before Cindy came into the picture. She discerned that he’d been sleeping with Alison while he was still married to his dead wife and while he was sleeping with her.
Cindy had already divorced a husband who two-timed her and had no tolerance for liars or cheaters. That was a deal breaker. Alec tried to lie his way out of it until she finally told him he was a jerk and never to call her again. Ever.
Chapter 67
QUINN
Sorry, Cindy. Guess you found out the hard way, just like me. It must have stung when you learned he was sleeping with another woman. You don’t know the half of it. You only know about Ali Moore. Guess what? Dr. A was probably sleeping with two or three of his students, too. If I were you, Cindy, I’d get checked for STD’s, you have no idea where that thing has been.
Chapter 68
All the Delaneys were frustrated. It had been ten months since Quinn had been found dead and nothing had happened. To make herself feel like she was doing something proactive, Erin trolled Alec on Facebook. She sifted through his contacts and their photos and their friends’ pictures and comments for hours. Through her meticulous process, Erin figured out which women he was involved with. She copied every photo posted and saved them all to her hard drive. Alec didn’t post much, but all his new girlfriends wanted their friends to know they had a new man in their life, even if he was a murderous shithead.
Once Erin figured out who they were, she was able to piece together some of Alec’s romantic rendezvous. It was amazing what you could find on Facebook if you followed the strings. She wondered why all these women were willing to go
out with Alec, given that Quinn’s murder had been in all the newspapers and on local TV. These women only had to do a two-second Google search, and they would have known he was the primary suspect in his wife’s unsolved murder.
When Erin found Alison Moore on Facebook, she hit the jackpot. Alison had posted tons of photos of herself and Alec hiking in the mountains and dozens more from a vacation they took to Scotland. Every pic posting had a time stamp and Erin was able to piece together the last year or two of Alec’s life after he and Quinn split.
Erin wondered if Alison Moore had anything to do with her sister’s death. From everything she saw online, Alison looked pretty normal. After an extensive search using Google and LinkedIn, Erin decided the woman was most likely an innocent bystander.
Erin tracked Alison’s Facebook page for months, checking it every day for anything new. One day, she noticed that Alison and Alec Roberts were no longer Facebook friends. The pictures Alison had posted of her and Alec had disappeared. Fortunately, Erin had made copies of all the pictures and had them neatly in a file on her desktop labeled, ‘KILLER.’
If they were no longer friends on Facebook, Erin deduced, they probably broke up. She was dying to reach out to Alison to wring every juicy bit of information out of her but decided to wait, in case their break-up was temporary. Erin checked Alison’s status every morning. Six months later, there was still no Facebook connection between Alec and Alison. Erin sent her an instant message through Facebook.
Hi Alison,
I Am Quinn Page 18
