Paper-Thin Walls

by Melanie Jones Brownrigg

  All the while, the officers were searching, the townsfolk were rubbernecking, and the neighbors were gawking. This went on for another forty-five minutes until the big boys entered the scene. Whipping around the end of the street, here came ABC, CBS, FOX, and NBC. Three of them squeezed by the local van and drove in front of the captain’s police vehicle, coming to a stop just short of the mud puddle.

  The fourth unit from NBC couldn’t find a spot to park so the driver opted to pull into the yard belonging to the Simpson’s neighbors on the north. The adjoining yard was immaculately kept with freshly mowed grass, recently trimmed hedges along the north side of the property, and colorful pansies planted up near the porch. The news van plowed across the green lawn, leaving a deep rut in the yard, and came to a screeching stop some five or six inches before plowing over a cute little wishing well. The well looked to be a real cistern with a rounded stone base. Two upright support beams on each side supported a gabled roof, and a bucket of ivy hung from a rope tied to the spindle, next to the crank. The homeowners, a mid-fifties woman and her early sixties husband were perched in lawn chairs on the front porch, tsking at the deep tracks left by the news van.

  Doors flew open from each media vehicle and satellites were extended within seconds, mics were hooked up and cameras went into recording mode. Questions were asked and limited answers were given. When the reporters noticed me, I became the next target.

  “What’s your name? Who are you? What capacity are you here in?” I was asked.

  “Please, I don’t want to be on TV,” I said, twisting my face away from the cameras, imagining Bill seeing me on the nightly news at his mother’s house, of all places. He would most definitely kill me. There was no way I could stay at my apartment now. The risk would be too great.

  The unrelenting newshounds were determined to get something out of me. “Have you been arrested?” they asked. “Who was murdered? We heard there was a murder. Did you murder someone?”

  “No! I’m only here as a ride-along with Detective Sutton,” I explained, hoping my insignificant presence would be disappointing enough for them to leave me alone.

  Somehow my answer morphed into my being the detective’s girlfriend. I really didn’t know how that happened. “We’re only friends,” I yelled at their backs when they spun their cameras to film one of the officers crawling into the house through an unlocked kitchen window. Moments later, he opened the front door, letting the other officers swarm inside like an angry beehive. Though I couldn’t see what was happening inside, I assumed they were equally diligent as they were on the exterior of the property.

  Sometime later, one of the men came out with a framed photo of a young girl. “Is this the girl you talked to?” He held the glass-covered picture out for Detective Sutton to look at.

  “Yes, it is,” Detective Sutton confirmed. “But apparently it’s not Kenna Simpson.”

  “No, that’s Belinda Simpson. I went to school with her,” the uniformed officer explained. “She’s Bill’s sister.”

  How about that? Bill’s sister and his mother had covered for him. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind now. Kenna was dead. But where was her body?

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Ryan

  Ryan watched as Hailey backed out of the driveway like she was going to a fire. “Where was Momma going in such a hurry?” Ryan asked his son as Adam bounded up the porch steps.

  “She’s going out with some man. I forget his name. But she saw him last night, too. It’s the same man she said.”

  Ryan couldn’t believe his ears and his legs grew so weak he had to stumble to an outdoor chair. “What did you say? Tell Daddy again where Momma went.”

  “Out with a man. They’re going somewhere together. I don’t remember where.”

  “No, honey. You must’ve misunderstood. Surely, Mommy isn’t going out with a man.”

  “Yeah, she met with him last night in a parking lot. They talked. I saw him and he was wearing a suit and tie. She said it was the same man.”

  Ryan’s heart developed a hole and pain poured out of it. He couldn’t believe Hailey was already seeing someone. Had his wife already moved on? The thought wrenched at his gut and tears formed in his eyes. “No, please God, don’t let this be happening,” he prayed.

  “Daddy, what are we gonna do today?”

  “Uh, I don’t know.” Ryan couldn’t think. His concentration was shot. All he wanted to do was call Hailey and tell her to get her butt back home. What the heck was she thinking? And he couldn’t believe she was already entertaining a man right in front of their son. How dare she!

  Ryan took Adam inside and plunked him in front of the TV. “Watch something for kids,” he told Adam, handing him the remote.

  Ryan went immediately into the kitchen and slumped down into a dinette chair. He gave his friend Jeff a call. “Hailey’s out with another man, right freaking now!” he yelped into the phone. “Did Sarah say anything about Hailey seeing someone?”

  “No, not to me,” Jeff answered. “But she probably wouldn’t have. You know how women are.”

  “Ask her!” Ryan demanded. “Tell her she cannot lie right now. I have to know.”

  “Sarah,” Jeff yelled into the next room. “Sarah!”

  Ryan tapped his foot and repeatedly ran a hand over his face while he impatiently waited.

  “She says no,” Jeff answered, coming back on the line.

  “Put her on the phone,” Ryan barked. The device changed hands.

  “Hey Ryan, this is Sarah.”

  “Do not lie to me. Is Hailey seeing someone?”

  “No, she hasn’t said anything to me. In fact, I thought she was going apartment hunting today. That’s what she told me. I swear.”

  “Apartment hunting?” In Ryan’s mind, this revelation was equally bad news. He thought Hailey was considering getting back together. Why would she be looking for a different apartment?

  “Yes, you know, because of that hellhole she’s living in. I told her to move out after that creep next door threatened her.”

  “What creep would that be?” Ryan knew Hailey lived in a deplorable low-income dwelling, but he had no knowledge of any threats.

  “The guy next door grabbed her in a chokehold and shoved her to the floor. He told her to stay out of his business or he’d kill her.”

  Ryan’s focus spun around in a dizzying effect. “Why am I just now hearing about this?”

  “Because … you know how Hailey is. She didn’t want you to be worried. But I’ve talked her into finding a better place to stay. That’s what she’s supposed to be doing today.”

  “According to Adam, she’s out with some man.”

  “That’s probably a realtor. He’s most likely showing her some places she can lease. Seriously Ryan, you’re jumping to conclusions.”

  Ryan breathed deeply, hoping to get his heart rate back under control. “Okay, that makes sense. Adam said she was going somewhere with some man. It’s probably to look for a better place to live.”

  “There you go,” Sarah said. “There’s no way Hailey’s seeing someone else.”

  “Yeah, okay. Well, thank you.”

  Ryan was only somewhat relieved. If his wife wasn’t already seeing someone else, that was good news. But he didn’t want her out looking for some other place to move when she should be coming home. And he sure as heck didn’t want her staying another night next to a creep who had threatened to kill her. And if this jerk had his hands on her throat and shoved her to the floor, he might well follow through. Ryan needed to do something, and he needed to do it fast.

  “Come on, son. We’re going for a drive.”

  “Where to, Daddy?” Adam asked as he turned off the cartoon he was watching.

  “Across town. We’re going to solve a mystery today.”

  Adam’s eyes lit up. He loved mystery games and puzzle games. “For real?” he asked in an excited, high-pitched voice.

  “You betcha. If you want, you can run upstairs an
d get your inspector’s magnifying glass.”

  “Oh, yippie,” Adam shrieked, running as hard and fast as he could. Moments later, he not only appeared with an oversized magnifying glass, but he was wearing a deerstalker hat. “I’m ready, Daddy!” he squealed.

  “It looks like it,” Ryan said with a chuckle.

  The two loaded up in Ryan’s gray Honda and embarked on their mission. At the end of the street, he turned right on Hulen and worked his way down to Camp Bowie. Then he turned the corner at University Street and pulled into the multi-story apartment complex where Shannon Lowry lived. He wasn’t going to see her. She was useless and he knew it. But what he hoped for were recordings. With any luck at all, he’d be able to do exactly what he did last night. Watch himself.

  Ejecting himself from his seat belt and Adam from his carrier seat, together they went inside and made their way to the manager’s office. A mid-forties woman with horribly dyed red hair and a patch of bright red rouge across her cheeks greeted them. Joyce Wendell, according to a name marker on her cluttered desk.

  “What can I help you gentlemen with today?” She smiled big, showing coffee-stained teeth. A mug was right beside her and the area smelled of brewed coffee, an indication she no doubt drank plenty of it during the day.

  “Does this place have security cameras, particularly of the lobby?”

  “As a matter of fact, the lobby is the only place we have cameras. You can’t get to any of the apartments without first coming in through the front entrance – unless someone has a pass card for the side entrances. So far, there hasn’t been a need for cameras on any of the other floors, so it seems to do the trick.”

  “Great. I’m looking for a recording that would have been two weeks ago last night … probably sometime between eight-thirty and nine.”

  She sucked in air between her dingy teeth. “Oh, I don’t know if the recordings go back that far. If nothing happens, then they loop over themselves. Why didn’t you ask earlier?” Then she really looked at him. “I don’t believe I recognize you. Are you a tenant here?”

  “No, but I visited one of your residents that night. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I …” Ryan gazed down at his son who was totally emersed in the conversation. “Son, please go over to the glass window and start looking for fingerprints.”

  “I’m on it, Daddy,” Adam readily agreed. “You can count on me.”

  “I knew I could,” Ryan told him, then he turned back to Joyce and made up a big fat lie. “Look, this woman works in the same office as I do. We were collaborating on a presentation that night. I laid my draft down on the coffee table over there.” Ryan gestured toward a lobby seating area. “We decided to go over to the Buffalo Brothers for a late-night snack and I accidentally left my notes behind. I need them for a Monday morning conference. I thought maybe if I saw what happened to them, I might be able to find them.”

  She eyeballed him up one side and down the other. “That’s about the lamest bullshit story I’ve ever heard. Do you think for one minute I believe you ‘forgot’ your work, and you just now ‘remembered it?’” She used air quotes, rolled her eyes and then threw her head back. “Paleeease,” she added in a disgusted tone.

  “I need to see those recordings,” Ryan said and left it at that.

  “What’s it worth to you?” she bluntly asked.

  “Fifty dollars,” Ryan offered, starting at the same figure he had initially offered Martin Haskell, the shift manager at the Bottles Up Distillery.

  She boisterously laughed to the point it hurt Ryan’s eardrums. “I don’t get out of my chair for fifty dollars.”

  “How much?” Ryan impatiently barked. “Every second of delay is a second those recordings are disappearing.” Ryan wondered if they were even still there. “And I’m not paying one dime if the recordings are already gone.”

  “Five hundred,” she countered.

  Ryan gasped and grabbed his heart. “No way. Two hundred.”

  She shook her head and smirked. “Oops another second went by. Oh, and another one.” She narrowed her eyes at Ryan. “Five hundred,” she bellowed. “Take it or leave it.”

  Ryan wanted to tell her to stick it where the sun didn’t shine and walk out. He even considered returning when someone else was manning the desk. She couldn’t possibly be the only manager. He recalled the elderly, gray-haired man who’d had his head down in a book the morning he’d passed by after waking up next to Shannon. He’d bet that man would be more willing to help him out. But then again, he knew those recordings were disappearing by the second. He needed to act now. “Fine, but only if what I’m looking for is there.”

  She puckered her lips and wobbled her head in some weird smirk. “Sounds like we’ve got ourselves a deal, sonny boy. Now cough up the dough. Cash only.” She held out her hand.

  Ryan gaped at her. He didn’t have that kind of money in his pocket, and he hoped like hell he had it in his bank account. But he might not, not if Hailey got into it for a down payment on some new apartment lease. She’d already syphoned off some for a deposit and the first month’s rent on her hellhole apartment, not to mention a bed for Adam and some other things she’d purchased at Walmart.

  “I’ll be right back,” he promised. “Come on Adam. We’ve got another crime scene to investigate.”

  Adam excitedly ran across the room. “I found lots and lots and lots of fingerprints. Lots of them are all over the glass.”

  “Good job. You’re a great detective.”

  “Detective,” Adam slowly repeated. “That’s where Momma was last night … with a detective. I remember now. I thought he would be wearing a police uniform, but he wasn’t. He was dressed just like you go to work.”

  Ryan was on the way to the car with Adam by his side. “A detective? Not a realtor?”

  “Mama said a detective. He took her suitcase.”

  “A suitcase. How long was Mama with this detective?” Ryan couldn’t imagine why Hailey would have a suitcase … unless it was an overnight bag. Did she stay the night with this guy!? He felt angry blood rushing to his head.

  “Not long. She just gave it to him,” Adam answered.

  Thank you, Jesus, Ryan thought. But still, he couldn’t understand why Hailey was delivering a suitcase. And he couldn’t help worrying that she might be seeing someone. After all, why was she with the detective today? Were they looking for a place together? He gulped back a lump in his throat, trying to dismiss any thoughts of Hailey moving on without him. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand and if he were successful, maybe, if things hadn’t gone too far, he could get her back.

  As soon as they were in the car, he sped to the nearest ATM. He first checked the balance to make sure Hailey hadn’t beat him to the funds. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the last withdrawal was him paying to watch the bar footage. As soon as the dough was in his hands, he flew back to the Heartland Apartments.

  “Let’s go Adam. We’ve got some more investigating to do.”

  Adam threw his hat back on and grabbed his magnifying glass. “I’ll follow your lead,” Adam squeaked as they entered the lobby once again.

  “Here,” Ryan growled, spreading the bills out on Joyce’s desk. “But like I said, this is conditioned upon the footage still being there.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Joyce hauled her lard ass up from the chair. She was wearing big baggy sweatpants and a tan colored T-shirt that could easily have been made into a tent. “I’ll set you up over here, where I can keep an eye on you.” She used her index finger and middle finger and touched her eyes, then turned her hand around and pointed the two fingers at Ryan. “Don’t even try to slip something by on me. You got that sonny boy?”

  “Get the recordings going,” Ryan grumped.

  She waddled over to a small desk off to the side that probably served as an assistant’s workstation during the weekdays. It already had a computer on it, which Joyce powered up. “Don’t be watching me now,” she grouched as she put in th
e passcode.

  Ryan looked away, watching Adam back at the glass windows. It took a few moments for the security programs to load, and then Joyce went through the recordings, selecting the day in question.

  “You’re a lucky man. It looks like your day is still here,” she commented, shifting the cursor around. “Here, I’ll start the playback at eight o’clock. You go through it until you see if what you need is there.”

  “Thank you,” Ryan said, taking a seat in the small rolling desk chair while Joyce watched over his shoulder for a moment before going back to her own desk.

  “What are you watching, Daddy?” Adam asked coming up beside Ryan and trying to crawl into his lap.

  “This is the boring part of the job. If you want to do something exciting, why don’t you see if anything has been dropped under one of those chairs or either of those couches. Remember, anything can be a clue, even a gum wrapper.”

  Adam smiled. “I’ll find it Daddy. I will.”

  Ryan returned to the playback and began watching, once again in real time even though he thought he could speed the recording up until he and Shannon entered the lobby. But with Joyce’s beady eyes firing intermittent lasers at him, he kept his hands in his lap.

  Ryan knew he had left the Bottles Up Distillery right around eight-thirty. It took approximately ten minutes to walk back to the parking garage. He estimated the drive time between downtown and here to be another ten minutes, which meant he should be arriving at around eight-fifty.

  He was disappointed when nine o’clock came and went. He was puzzled when five after nine rolled around and he and Shannon still hadn’t appeared. But then, at precisely six minutes after nine p.m., the door opened and in walked Shannon. She turned and held the door open, shifting herself off to the side. Ryan’s eyes bugged out of their sockets when he saw Jason Patterson hauling him in through the door. Ryan was a limp noodle, completely out of it, and Jason was bearing his total weight. Ryan was glued to the recording, watching as Jason dragged him along, through the lobby and down the hallway toward the elevator.