Justice in Mystic Grove

by S F Bose

  “Newmont saw you fighting?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah he saw the end of it, I think. He asked what we were fighting about, but we both said it was nothing.”

  I stared at Dwight. "So you had a brawl over a traffic stop?"

  “It was hardly a brawl,” Dwight replied. “The fight was about Meagher throwing the traffic stop in my face in front of my wife.”

  "Dwight, do you think Meagher was involved in anything illegal?" Sam asked. A dark look passed over Dwight’s face and he looked down.

  When he looked up again, he said, "Not that I know of. I wouldn't be surprised, though. He was bad news."

  I leaned forward and said, “Dwight, we need your help.”

  Dwight shifted in his chair. “Sure.”

  “We found some evidence that indicates Meagher was blackmailing people. Your name is included in that evidence.”

  Reed looked slowly back and forth between Sam and me.

  “Dwight, he's dead,” said Sam. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you killed him. However, we found a notebook detailing all the people Meagher blackmailed. One of those people might be the killer. We need to understand what Meagher was doing and why.”

  Dwight sighed and sat back. “Okay. I'm tired of hiding it. Meagher stopped me for speeding last September. I'd also been drinking. I joined some friends for drinks after work and overdid it. Anyway, Meagher looked at my license and asked what I did for a living. I told him I was an EMT-Paramedic and he said he admired paramedics. He advised me that if I failed a field sobriety test or the breathalyzer, he couldn’t help me. I could lose my EMT-Paramedic license and my job would be gone. I knew he was right. So when he offered me a monthly payment option, I grabbed it like a lifeline.”

  “How did you get the money to him?” I asked.

  “I mailed cash to a P.O. box.”

  “What was the P.O. box address?”

  Dwight rattled off the complete address and I wrote it down. When he saw my surprise, he said, “I memorized it. I didn’t want my wife to find the address written down anywhere.”

  I nodded. “How much did you pay him?”

  “Sixty dollars a month.”

  “He was blackmailing you, Dwight. Weren’t you worried about retaliation for beating him up?”

  Dwight ran a hand through his short black hair. Then he rested both forearms on the conference room table.

  “I did worry about it. The blackmail wasn’t about money for Meagher. It was about power. He liked controlling people. I had run into him a few other times and he always made a point of letting me know he had the upper hand. After the fight, I hoped he wouldn’t turn me in or retaliate in some other way, as long as I kept paying him. Looking back on it, by beating him up I think I became unpredictable. In a weird way that gave me some… power.”

  “He could have raised the monthly payment,” Sam said.

  Dwight nodded. “That’s true, but he didn’t. If he had, I’m not sure what I would have done. At first, sixty dollars a month seemed like a steal to keep my job. Then we learned my wife was expecting. Once the baby arrived, money would be even tighter.”

  “Did you plan to stop paying?” I asked.

  “I considered it, but hadn’t made a decision,” he replied. “I was leaning toward getting a part-time job to bring in more money.”

  “Did you see Meagher after the fight?” asked Sam.

  Dwight nodded. “A couple of times. However, when he saw me, he avoided me. That’s what made me think that I had gained some sort of edge.”

  “Okay Dwight, just for the record, where were you between the hours of 1:00 p.m. and 5:00 pm on Wednesday May 6th?”

  Dwight pulled a pocket calendar out of his jeans and flipped through it. Then he smiled. “I was on duty but I show here we didn’t have any runs. I was at the firehouse playing poker or sleeping. We work a twenty-four hour shift and then get two days off before the next shift.”

  “Can anyone confirm that?” I asked.

  “The captain was there for the entire shift. But you won’t tell him about the drunk driving, will you?”

  “No. We'll come up with some story and ask him to confirm you were at work all day,” I assured him.

  “Thanks. He'll confirm it. Here’s his direct number.” Dwight shared the captain’s name and telephone number. I wrote the information down in my notebook.

  “Was your partner, Carol Robinson, working that same shift?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure she was. Carol wasn’t involved with Meagher. She’s clean as a whistle.”

  “Okay, that’s good to know. Dwight, you were being blackmailed which is a crime,” said Sam. “And the man who blackmailed you and others was murdered. That makes you a suspect until cleared. The police have Meagher’s original collection book. If we figured out his coding system, the police will too. You should get ahead of this and talk to Deputy Newmont.”

  Dwight shrugged. “I’ll think about it. Are we done here?”

  “We’re done. But if your alibi is solid, talk to Newmont sooner than later. You’ll thank us,” Sam replied.

  “I hear you,” Dwight agreed.

  “Here’s my business card in case you think of anything else, Dwight,” I said. He picked up the card I slid across the table, glanced at it, and put it in his pocket.

  We all stood and Dwight made a beeline for the door.

  He paused at the door to the conference room and turned back to us.

  “Steven Meagher was a very bad man. I think you’ll find hundreds of people who are happy he’s dead. I’m one of them.” With that, he left the room and we followed him to the front of the office. He walked out the door and never looked back.

  “At least he’s honest,” Sam said.

  “Yeah. On paper he’s the perfect suspect,” I replied. “My gut tells me he didn’t kill Meagher, but I’m going to call his captain to confirm his alibi right now.”

  I went to my office and dialed the captain’s number. When he answered on the third ring, I identified myself. I said I was investigating a hit and run traffic accident and was trying to track down two witnesses. Both said they were EMT-Paramedics out of his station.”

  “What were their names?” the captain asked.

  “Dwight Reed and Carol Robinson,” I replied.

  The captain grunted. “Those are two of my people. What was the date of the accident?”

  “May 6th.”

  “Hold on,” the captain said and I heard computer keys clicking.

  “I just checked our online system. Dwight and Carol were both at work all day. They were on a twenty-four-hour shift. Did you get physical descriptions?”

  “Yes. The guy we’re looking for is in his thirties and 5’10” tall, slight build, and had red hair and a beard. The woman, also in her thirties, is 5’2” tall and had dyed white hair” I replied, making up the descriptions.

  “Not my people,” the Captain said. “That doesn’t come close to identifying either Dwight or Carol. Whoever that couple was seemed to know them, though. They had their names, job title, and station number. I don’t like that. “Did the police check their IDs?”

  “They never talked to the police. A car hit the victim’s car. The two people I’m trying to find were in a car behind the victim. They stopped to check on her and she asked for their names and contact numbers. They evidently gave her bogus information and left the scene.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” the captain replied.

  “Have the real Dwight and Carol had problems with anyone at the station? Or with someone they treated?” I asked.

  “None. Both are well-liked,” he replied.

  “Okay, this is a dead end then. You want my guess it was another couple playing around on the side. They knew the real Dwight and Carol. When the victim asked them for their contact information, they panicked and used Dwight and Carol’s names to get out of a jam,” I said.

  “Sounds plausible,” the captain agreed. “Lots of screwy peo
ple out there.”

  “You got that right. Sorry to bother you. Thanks for your help, Captain,” I replied and hung up.

  I made a few notes about the interview on a separate piece of paper for Neville. Then I transferred the audio file of Dwight’s interview and walked to Neville’s desk. He was listening to an audio file and typing. When he saw me, he paused the audio and pulled out his ear buds.

  “Hey Neville. I just transferred an interview file for Dwight Reed. It doesn’t have to be done today,” I said. “These are a few additional notes. Reed’s alibi checked out.” I handed him the sheet of paper.

  “Okay. I should have the three files for today entered into the system. I’ll tackle this one tomorrow.”

  “That’s great. You’re a big help, Neville,” I said and smiled. His cheeks reddened.

  “Thanks, Liz. I appreciate that,” he replied. Neville lowered his voice and glanced in the direction of Sam’s door. “Can I ask your advice about something?”

  “Sure thing. Let’s go to my office.”

  When we reached my office, I said, “Have a seat.” Neville dropped into the closest guest chair. His right leg started bouncing up and down.

  “It’s about Chloe,” he said, looking uncomfortable.

  “Okay,” I replied and waited.

  “I’m not sure what to do. Sometimes when we’re together everything is fine. Normal. Other times we’ll be talking about something and she’ll just shut down. She gets… pissy and won’t talk anymore,” he said.

  “Have you asked her ‘why’?”

  Neville nodded. “Yes, several times. Chloe gets angry and says things like, ‘If you don’t know, I can’t tell you.’ Well I don’t know and I’m not a mind reader. So I was thinking… you’re a woman too. Is there anything you can think of that I could try to make things better?”

  Neville looked so sad that I wanted to hug him.

  I sat back and thought about it. “Neville, I don’t understand what’s going on with Chloe either. I do know that you’re her longest boyfriend ever and I think she really has feelings for you. It sounds like something is definitely bothering her, but she can’t or won’t talk about it. So my suggestion is to keep track of the subjects that make Chloe clam up or erupt. Then you can see if you can figure out what the trigger issue is.”

  Neville pursed his lips and considered my suggestion. “That’s a good idea. I never thought of keeping a record of what sets her off. That could help.”

  He started to say something else but stopped.

  “What is it, Neville?” I asked quietly.

  He looked at me and blushed. “Do you think Chloe might be interested in another guy?” he asked.

  I shook my head vigorously. “Absolutely not. If she was, I would know.”

  “Are you sure?” he pressed.

  “Positive. Whatever is going on with Chloe, another guy isn’t in the mix,” I assured him.

  Neville visibly relaxed. “Thank God.” He ran a hand over his beard and exhaled heavily. “What a relief. Okay I’ll start writing down what we argue about.”

  “Let me know how it goes. And if you ever want me to talk to Chloe, I’d be more than happy to do that. She might open up to me.”

  Neville’s face paled. “No, please don’t talk to her. If she found out I discussed this with you, she’d kill me.”

  I raised my hands. “Enough said. I won’t say a word.”

  Neville stood and smiled. “Thanks for the advice, Liz,” he said and returned to his desk.

  Later, I walked down the hall to Sam’s office. He was staring at the screen of his laptop.

  “Reed’s alibi checked out,” I said. “And so did Carol Robinson’s. They were both at the station the day of Meagher’s murder. They pulled a twenty-four hour shift.”

  “I hoped they were clean,” Sam replied, looking up. Then he smiled. “It’s Friday. Do you feel like going to dinner tonight?”

  I perked up. “Sure. How about eating at the B&B? It’s Fish Fry Friday. You eat fried fish right?”

  “Sure. I’ve eaten the B&B’s fish fry before. Grace gives me extra French fries,” he replied and smiled.

  Of course she does. “Okay, fish fry it is,” I said.

  “I can pick up Flip after dinner. Maybe I’ll see if Newmont and Joyce are free to join us,” Sam said.

  “Great idea,” I agreed.

  “Okay, let’s shoot for 7:00 p.m.,” Sam said.

  “I’ll meet you in the dining room,” I replied and he nodded.

  I was happy to have something to look forward to that evening.

  Neville checked in to say goodnight before he left for the day. He had completed his work on the audio files for Aggie Beal, Tony, and Sissy. After he left I also found myself wishing we could hire him full-time.

  Chapter 18

  Newmont, Joyce, Sam, and I sat at a round table in the crowded B&B dining room. We had all ordered the fish fry and except for Sam, enjoyed a glass of wine. Sam drank lemon water.

  We chitchatted a little. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Neville and Chloe enter the dining room. They sat at a table across the room from us and seemed relaxed and friendly. Maybe Chloe is over whatever was bugging her.

  “Anything new on your front?” Newmont asked. He sat to my right. He looked across the table at Sam and then at me.

  “A few things. We have to be careful because our client is a lawyer, though,” Sam replied.

  Newmont nodded. “I understand.” He took out his small notebook and a pen.

  Sam glanced at me and I said, “First, we found some addresses in the back of Meagher’s Rainy Day Fund notebook. They were storage facilities in the Madison area. Those keys Meagher hid could be for storage lockers.”

  “Yeah, I noticed the addresses when I made a copy of the notebook for myself,” Newmont replied. “When I looked up a few, I saw they were storage facilities. There was also a number after each street address. We think it’s the storage locker number. Turns out each of the keys you found had a sticker with one of those numbers.”

  “Not a bad system unless you lose that notebook,” Sam said.

  I nodded. “That’s why Meagher hid it in his desk drawer.”

  “So when I brought the evidence to Detective Swanson, I alerted him to the storage facilities and the keys. He’ll be getting search warrants,” Newmont said.

  “I’d love to know what’s in those storage lockers,” Sam replied.

  Newmont nodded. “Me too. I’ll let you know when I hear back from Swanson. Did you have anything else?” he asked me.

  “Yes. Meagher was blackmailing people,” I replied. “The entries in the Rainy Day Fund notebook list everyone he was extorting. The longer code in each line entry is a driver’s license number. If you search your license records for each code, you’ll get the person’s identity.”

  “Good work!” Joyce said and I smiled across the table at her.

  “It sure is. That’s a big motive for murder right there,” agreed Newmont. He jotted down some notes.

  “We also interviewed one of the people in that notebook,” Sam said. “Remember we mentioned Dwight Reed, the EMT-Paramedic?”

  “Yeah, he had the fight with Meagher at the Village Tavern,” Newmont replied. “Meagher was blackmailing him?”

  Sam nodded. “He was, but Reed has an alibi for the day of the murder.”

  “What was he blackmailing Reed for?” Newmont asked.

  “Reed said he’d been driving home one night when Meagher stopped him,” Sam replied. “He’d been drinking with friends earlier that evening. When Meagher asked him what he did for a living, Reed told him he was an EMT-Paramedic. Meagher warned him if he failed the field sobriety test or the breathalyzer, he’d probably lose his job. Then he offered the Reed the option of paying him monthly.”

  “Reed took the deal?” asked Newmont.

  “He did,” Sam replied.

  Newmont’s jaw tensed. “How’d he pay Meagher?”

  “He
sent cash to a post office box every month. Here’s the P.O. Box address,” I replied and handed him a slip of paper. Newmont read the address, nodded, and put the paper into his notebook.

  “Thanks, we’ll follow up on this.”

  “By the way, we strongly encouraged Reed to contact you,” Sam added.

  “I’ll ask him to come in so we can get his evidence into the case file,” replied Newmont.

  “The other thing is we spoke to Sissy at the Tipsy Cow. She said Meagher had lunch with a woman there the day he was killed,” Sam said.

  “The woman with the hat and sunglasses? One of our guys spoke to Tony and he mentioned her,” Newmont replied. “But I don’t remember anything about Sissy.”

  “Sissy was off work the day your guy interviewed Tony. She’s also not a fan of the police,” I said. Newmont grunted.

  Sam nodded. “Sissy shared some interesting information. She thought the blonde woman’s floppy hat, sunglasses, gloves, and wig were a disguise. She said Meagher and the woman argued and he looked upset when she left. He also spoke to someone on his cell phone. After Meagher left, Sissy went out to her car to get her glasses. She saw the woman with the wig pull out of a parking spot across the way. She said the woman followed Meagher when he turned his van left onto the highway.”

  Newmont added some notes to his notebook. “This is new information. Did Sissy get a plate number on the woman’s vehicle?”

  “No. She did say the woman drove a silver Chevy SUV. That was the best we could get on the vehicle,” Sam replied.