“Sit, Lucky,” she said, as she knelt down and carefully parted the branches to see if she could tell what it was. A matchbook cover. She controlled herself as she reached for it, trying to avoid any contact with thorns. She carefully retrieved the matchbook by its edges, not wanting to get any fingerprints on the front or back.
She stood up and examined the cover. The name, Evergreen Construction and a phone number appeared on the front, a fir tree logo stamped on the back. That logo seemed familiar, but she wasn’t sure where she’d seen it. When she opened the matchbook, she got really excited because inside was a hand-written phone number. Holly put the matchbook in a plastic bag she had in her pocket for collecting dog poop and headed back around the side of the house to the driveway.
At the corner of the house, Holly stopped. She spotted Ivy across the street watching the Canadian Geese swimming in the duck pond. She gave a whistle and Ivy turned, appearing relieved at the sight of Holly and Lucky. She walked back from the edge of the pond to the curb directly across from the house. Holly mouthed the word “Clear”, pointing first to the left, then the right. Ivy scanned the street and the park. When she was sure that no one was around, she nodded and waved for them to come out.
“Don’t ever do that to me again,” Ivy said as they headed home. “You’re lucky no policemen were patrolling. Why are you smiling?”
Holly increased her pace as she said, “Let’s get home. I think I found a clue.”
41 FACEBOOK
“Good Morning, Detective,” said Officer Yolanda Rivera from her desk in front of Manelli’s office.
“Morning, Rivera,” he answered. ”Have you solved the case yet?”
“No,” she replied, chuckling. “But I have a few things for you that might help.”
“C’mon in,” he said, opening the door and walking over to his desk.
The uniformed Rivera picked up her Microsoft Surface Notebook and followed. Her thick brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She wore no jewelry and no make-up, except for a light coat of lip gloss.
Manelli hand-picked the no-nonsense, 28-year old to be his assistant two years ago, when her computer skills helped solve a case he was working. A rookie, not even assigned to his case, she’d read his reports and did some research on her own. When she approached him with what she’d learned, Manelli immediately set out to have her assigned to his department. He knew initiative was one thing you couldn’t teach someone. Either you had it, or you didn’t. Yolanda Rivera had it.
“What ya got?” he asked leaning back in his chair.
Yolanda’s unpainted finger nails tapped her screen. “First of all, I contacted the Paramus Police Department. Turns out one of my fellow cadets from the Academy just started working there. He told me the Nowicki car crash was no accident. A witness called the day after it happened. A woman who’d been driving a few car lengths in front of Nowicki’s Continental reported that as she was driving, she happened to look in her rearview mirror. She saw a white box truck veer into her lane, and it looked to her like the box truck cut the Continental off. She didn’t think too much of it until she saw the paper the next day. She, of course, didn’t get the license number of the truck, but the Paramus police found a white box truck abandoned on a Paramus side street later that day. The truck was reported stolen that morning by Franklin Plumbing in Paramus.”
“Anything on the driver?”
“Just that he was a white male. The witness said she couldn’t identify him.”
“Too bad, but at least we now know the crash was no accident.”
“Looks that way.”
“What else?”
“I spent a little time on Facebook yesterday and found something I think you’re going to like.”
“What?”
Yolanda slid her finger across the screen, then entered some rapid keystrokes. She turned the tablet so Manelli could see the screen. A group shot of about fifteen twenty-somethings with their glasses raised in a toast filled the screen.
Manelli shrugged. ”What am I looking at?”
“You see the boy in the center? That’s Phillip Hagel. This photo was posted on his Facebook page the day of Edna Hagel’s murder. It could provide him with an alibi.”
“Then why did his father, mother and sister say he was at the store?”
“That’s the question I asked myself.”
“Anyone tell you, you’re going to make a good detective?”
“You, sir, thank you.” Rivera smiled and continued. “I called Phillip’s cellphone all afternoon yesterday and since I got here this morning. It’s going straight to voicemail. If he has an alibi, why wouldn’t he want to talk to us and get cleared?”
“Also, a good question,” Manelli mused. “Keep trying to reach him.”
“I will. One more thing. I can’t find anything to suggest that Novardo Development or the two partners have been involved in anything remotely criminal. The partners don’t even have a parking ticket between them.”
“Nice work, Rivera.”
“Thank you, sir.” Rivera stood up, sliding her fingers across her notebook as she returned to her desk.
Manelli’s cellphone rang. He looked at the screen. A number he didn’t recognize.
“Manelli,” he answered.
“Hello, Detective?”
“Yes.”
“This is Maria Colon. You gave me your card yesterday when you came to see Dina Hagel.”
“Yes, I remember you.”
“I don’t know if I should be calling, but…” The woman hesitated.
“Ms. Colon, you must have information that you think is important or you wouldn’t have called me. Anything you tell me will be held in the strictest confidence.”
“I heard Dina talking on the phone after you left. They don’t know where Phillip is.”
“The family?”
“Yeah. It sounds like he just disappeared or something.”
“When?”
“I’m not sure. He hasn’t been to the office since the day before Mrs. Hagel was murdered. All of us from the office--we went to the funeral. I saw Phillip drive away from the cemetery, but he wasn’t at the repast luncheon. That’s the last time I saw him.”
“Ms. Colon, thank you. You did the right thing by calling me. This is important information. My advice to you is don’t tell anyone, not even your mother, that you talked to me, okay?”
“Okay,” she giggled.
“And if you learn anything else, you call me.”
“All right. I will. Good-bye.”
That explains it. With Phillip missing, the Hagels don’t know he had an alibi. They may even be afraid he did kill his grandmother, so they’re covering for him. Or, maybe he left the party and actually killed Edna Hagel.
“Rivera,” Manelli shouted. He refused to use the intercom buzzer.
Officer Rivera appeared in the doorway.
“You think you can do your Face Page thing and find some likely places Phillip Hagel might be hanging out.”
“That’s Facebook, sir, and I’ll get right on it,” she said. The phone rang and Rivera turned to see which line was lit. “That’s your line, sir. You want me to pick it up?”
“No, I’ll get it.” Manelli picked up the handset. “Manelli.”
“This is Steven Hagel. I want that Donnelly woman arrested,” Hagel snarled.
“On what charges, Mr. Hagel?”
“Trespassing. I just emailed you a picture of Donnelly in my mother’s backyard this morning. That woman had no business being there. I want something done about her.”
“Okay, Mr. Hagel. I’ll take care of it.”
“You better!” The phone clicked in Manelli’s ear. He checked his email and opened the one from Steven Hagel. Next he clicked on the attachment. No doubt about it. Holly Donnelly was standing on Mrs. Hagel’s patio, and the time stamp on the photo showed today’s date.
Manelli shook his head, got up, grabbed his jacket and stopped at Rivera’s desk. “Have a
patrol car meet me at 7 Park Place.”
43 BUSTED
“Okay,” Ivy said once inside the house. “What did you find?”
Holly pulled the plastic bag containing the matchbook out of her pocket.
“Where’d you find that?”
“Near the shed in Edna’s yard.”
“But what makes you think it’s a clue?” Ivy sat down at the kitchen table.
“Look,” Holly giggled. She pulled the matchbook out of the bag by its edges, careful not to touch the cover. Opening the matchbook, she pointed to the phone number written on the inside.
“Anyone could have dropped that, even Juan. You said he sometimes does day work for other landscapers.”
“Maybe, but he doesn’t smoke,” said Holly, returning the matchbook back to the plastic bag. “And maybe--just maybe--that number belongs to the murderer.”
Ivy frowned. “Why didn’t the policed find it?”
“I thought about that.” Holly sat down, dropping the plastic bag in the center of the table. “The day of the murder the rose bush was still in full bloom. The red matchbook cover probably blended with the red roses. A week later the blooms are spent. Any flowers left on the bush are dark and faded.”
“Okay, but what if it was dropped after the murder?”
“How could it be? The place is cordoned off.”
“Right. So you’re going to call Manelli, right?”
Holly sighed. “I guess I have to. But I’d love to know whose phone number that is inside the matchbook.”
“Why don’t you call it?”
“What if it’s Steven Hagel’s?”
“So? Just hang up.”
“Ivy, you do know what caller ID is, don’t you? If he sees my name on his phone screen, he might make good on his threat to call the police. I already have to admit to Manelli that I crossed the police barrier. I don’t want Steven Hagel calling him to say I’m harassing him.”
“Maybe Steven Hagel doesn’t have Caller ID.”
“Unlikely. Most all phones do.”
“Really?”
Holly shook her head. “You have to be the most technologically unsavvy person on the planet.”
“Guilty. But I don’t think it’s hurt me,” Ivy sniffed. “So call Manelli.”
Holly frowned. “Wait. I know what. I’ll do a reverse lookup on the Internet.” Holly placed the matchbook on the plastic bag, picked up the bag and headed downstairs to her office.
“What’s reverse lookup?” asked Ivy trailing after her.
“The opposite of the phone book. You enter the number and reverse look-up tells you who the number belongs to.”
“How do you know these things?”
“How do you not know these things?”
Holly sat down and turned on the computer. She located the reverse look-up site and typed in the number. “Here goes,” she said as she hit the enter key.
“Aha,” Holly said. Ivy peered over her shoulder and saw “Hagel Printing and Paper” on the screen.
“So a landscaper had the Hagel number on his matchbook? That doesn’t prove anything.”
“At the very least it means that a landscaper was in Mrs. Hagel’s backyard.”
“But like I said before, maybe Juan did some work for them and he dropped it there.” Ivy walked over to the armchair opposite the work station and sat down.
Holly squinched her nose and looked up at the ceiling. “Why would Juan have the Hagel’s company number? He was working for Edna. What if an Evergreen landscaper dropped it? What was he doing there?”
“Maybe Mrs. Hagel just called that landscaper and asked him to come over and give her a price. Maybe she realized that working with a guy like Juan was too much for her, and she just needed a crew to come in once a week and take care of everything.”
“You’re probably right.” Holly started the computer shutdown and looked over at Ivy. “I guess this wasn’t much of a clue after all.”
“So go call Manelli.”
“What for?” Holly shrugged. “We just concluded this matchbook probably doesn’t mean anything.”
“I think you should call him about it anyway.”
“You just want me to talk to him.”
“That’s not it,” Ivy moved forward to the edge of the chair. “You haven’t already forgotten about Teresa’s accident and the fact that you may be in danger, have you?”
“No.” Holly swallowed hard and closed the laptop.
“Call Manelli. Let him decide if the matchbook is a clue or not.”
“Yuck. That means I have to admit I crossed a police line and listen to another lecture. Let’s just forget it. Pretend it never happened.”
“But what if it is a clue, and it can save Leonelle?”
“Oh, brother!” Holly jumped up. “You’re making this really difficult. I’ll tell you what. Let’s go upstairs, have breakfast, and see if there are any vegetables to harvest out in the garden. After that, you can call Manelli. You didn’t cross the police tape.”
“Deal,” Ivy said smiling. “I forgot about breakfast until just now. I’m starved.”
“Really?”
Ivy just rolled her eyes and went upstairs. Holly looked at the matchbook sitting beside the laptop and frowned. Just in case. She placed the matchbook inside the plastic bag and took it upstairs.
After breakfast, the sisters went out to the shed. Holly handed Ivy the watering can. “You water the pots in front. I’ll check the back bed for zucchini.”
Holly had just reached the vegetable patch when she heard Lucky barking furiously.
“Holly!”
Holly turned to see Ivy running towards her, pale-faced and unsmiling.
“What’s wrong? Is Lucky all right?”
“Yes, Lucky’s fine. But Manelli’s here.”
“Did you tell him about the matchbook?”
“No. I didn’t even think about it.”
“What? Why?”
“He says he needs to talk to you.”
“So? He’s been here to talk to me before.”
“This is different. He’s here with a squad car and they have their lights flashing.”
“Where is he?”
“Waiting at the front door.”
As she reached the hallway, through the glass panels of the door, Holly could see Manelli’s face wore a dour expression. She opened the door and saw a uniformed policeman standing on the walk a few feet behind Manelli. The flashing lights on the patrol car unnerved her. Ivy’s right. This can’t be good.
“We were going to call you,” she said.
“Really?” Manelli said.
“Would you like to come in?”
“That won’t be necessary,” he replied.
Ivy came up behind her. “Detective Manelli, we were just talking about you this morning. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“No,” he replied, barely looking at Ivy. “Ms. Donnelly, do you recall our last conversation?”
“Yes,” Holly answered.
“And what did I tell you at that time, Ms. Donnelly?” he asked, looking skyward.
Holly’s apprehension turned to annoyance. Why didn’t he just say what he came to say and quit with this supercilious banter?
“Detective, you know what you told me,” Holly began.
“Yes, I know what I told you, but I don’t think you do, so I was wondering if you could tell me what I said.”
Holly rolled her eyes and said, “That I could be in danger.”
“Very good, Ms. Donnelly,” Manelli said with an exaggerated smile. “What else did I say?”
“Not to go anywhere alone and to call you if anything came up.”
“Right again. Now what part of that didn’t you understand?”
“Look, Detective, we already said we were planning to call you today…” Holly started to explain.
“Isn’t that something?” Manelli cut her off. “You were going to call me, and here I’ve come calling on you. Don’t you thin
k that’s quite a coincidence, Ms. Donnelly? Wait. You don’t believe in coincidences do you?”
Holly glared at Manelli. When she didn’t reply, he continued. “Do you think that my being here might have something to do with your crossing a police barricade at a crime scene and trespassing on the Hagel property this morning?”
Busted. Holly put her hands in her pockets to hide the tremor that started in her fingertips. How did he know she was there? She was positive no one had seen her. When Holly didn’t respond to Manelli’s question, Ivy stepped forward. “Detective, this morning Holly and I were walking the dog when Lucky spotted a groundhog and ran into the Hagel yard. Holly just went in the yard to get Lucky.”
“Seriously?” he said to Ivy in a more gentle tone than the one he’d used with Holly. “You really expect me to believe that out of all the yards you walked past, your dog picked the Hagel yard to run into?”
“Yes--yes,” Ivy stammered. “With the property unoccupied, the groundhogs …”
“Nice try,” Manelli stopped her. “I won’t arrest you for lying to a police officer because I know you’re just trying to cover for your sister.”
“Are you here to arrest me?” Holly asked, her eyes widening.
“Yes.”
“Arrest me?” she exclaimed. “I haven’t done anything.”
“How about trespassing, obstruction of justice, interfering with a police investigation, maybe tampering with evidence?” he asked.
“Well, when you put it in those terms….”
“Wait a minute,” Ivy objected. “Please don’t do this, Detective. Honestly, we were planning to call you and tell you…”
“And,” Holly pushed Ivy behind her, “tell you that I crossed the police tape.”
“A confession?” He raised his eyebrows.
“I just went to get the dog,” Holly replied, feeling like a mouse in the paws of a cat, a rather large cat.
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