Garage Sale Diamonds (Garage Sale Mystery)

by Suzi Weinert

  Kaela still looked stunned. “I…I don’t know what to say, whether to be angry about putting my kids in danger or grateful they’re fine and think they had a good time.”

  “Life’s full of surprises, Kaela. Our attitude about what happens makes the difference for us and the ones around us. However you feel about it yourself, why not keep it positive for the children?”

  Kaela hugged her mother. “You’re nuts, Mom, but I really love you anyhow.”

  Just then the children raced in, all smiles and eagerness.

  “We have lots to tell you,” said Christine. “Becca took us for shopping, a movie and dinner.”

  “And Gran took us to garage sales where I got the first doll and this one I traded for it.”

  Milo could hardly wait to tell his news. “I wode in a police caw with a weal policeman and a siwen. It was so much fun.”

  “Told ya,” Jennifer laughed.

  After thanking her for babysitting, they left. As they pulled away, she still waved goodbye on the front porch when Adam’s car arrived. He strode to the door. “Let’s go inside where it’s warm. I just heard some news at the station. A deer/pickup-truck accident in Great Falls on Old Dominion Drive sent Dad and Mr. Donnegan to Fairfax Hospital. They’re okay but under observation. Do you want me to take you or can you drive?

  “You’re on duty. I’ll drive. Thanks, Adam. You’re a good son.” She hurried to alert Becca.

  “If Dad’s hurt, I want to come, too.”

  “Becca, I know you do, but won’t you please stay here for the workmen coming this morning to repair the door where those men broke in and the security system they disabled? Getting the house secure again is so important right now. I promise to call you with everything I learn. And Celeste comes in an hour to clean for the Thanksgiving party. Someone needs to let her in.”

  Grudgingly, Becca agreed and Jennifer left. At the hospital she parked, hurried inside and identified herself at the ER desk.

  “Have a seat. You can see them soon, after they’re diagnosed and cleaned up.

  Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty. Anxious, Jennifer returned to the desk. “Just reminding you I’m here to see Jason Shannon and Tony Donnegan.”

  “The doctor will be out to talk with you soon. I know it’s hard to wait when you’re worried. Would you like coffee or a soda?”

  “No, thanks.” She flipped through magazines for fifteen minutes more before the doctor appeared.

  “Mrs. Shannon?” She nodded. “Your husband’s cuts, bruises and sprained wrist are minor. He also has a concussion. We’ll keep him overnight for observation. He’s luckier than the other guy.”

  “I’m here for Tony also. He’s our neighbor. His wife died a few days ago, so he’s alone now. I’m his advocate as well, and I’m the one to tell his grown children.”

  “Okay, then. He has a fractured femur. He’s all right now, but if it takes a worse turn, it could be serious. So he’ll also stay for observation.”

  “When will you know?”

  “Hard to tell. Meantime, we’re putting him in ICU.”

  “And my husband?”

  “He goes to the Neurology Ward. We hope to release him tomorrow and expect his symptoms to dissipate in a couple of days.”

  “Thank you, doctor.”

  When he left, Jennifer asked the desk how soon she could visit Jason in Neuro. The half hour they mentioned gave her just enough time to make her calls. After her own children, she’d call Tony’s family. She’d stored their contact numbers in her cell phone.

  90

  Tuesday, 11:18 AM

  In the Neuro Ward, Jason lay quietly, eyes closed, as Jennifer entered his room.

  “Are you awake?” she whispered. He nodded, opening his eyes. “How do you feel, Honey?”

  “Blinding headache and can’t focus. Everything’s fuzzy. What happened?”

  “As you returned from your hunting trip this morning, Tony’s pickup hit a deer and ricocheted into a tree. You were knocked cold. You’re feeling concussion symptoms. They say a few more tests, then bed-rest and taking it easy at home after that.”

  “Like we do a lot of that in our lives…”

  “We will now, at least until you’re better.”

  “When do I get out of here?”

  “The doctor thinks tomorrow. The accident was serious, so you’re very lucky.”

  His brow furrowed. With difficulty, he tried to think back to the crash. “How…how’s Tony?”

  “Don’t know yet. He’s in ICU. I came to see you before checking on him.”

  “Thanks, Sweetheart. This close call reminded me I didn’t say I love you when I left before dawn. You were asleep and I didn’t want to disturb….Who knew it was almost my last chance?” He clutched her hand, blinking back tears.

  “You won’t get away from me that easily,” Jennifer soothed.

  He smiled. “I’m going to rest now. Bet they gave me something to make me drowsy.”

  His eyes closed. She stood beside him, holding his hand, until his snores signaled he slept.”

  In the ICU, Jennifer followed a nurse through the maze of privacy curtains shielding supine patients attached to beeping machinery. When asked about Tony’s condition, the nurse said, “Stable at the moment. He’s on morphine, so he may ramble a bit.”

  Tubes and life-monitoring wires linked Tony to a lot of equipment. He seemed asleep until she touched his hand. “Tony, it’s Jennifer.

  His eyes snapped open. He grabbed her hand and held on tight. “Thank God, Jennifer. You’re here with me at last. It was all worth it for this reward.”

  Confused, she said, “Yes, I’m here with you now, and I’ll stay close until your children arrive. But what do you mean, ‘worth it for this reward’?”

  “When I fell in love with you years ago, I…I wanted to divorce Kirsten but my lawyer said she’d get the house and then I wouldn’t see you across the street every day.”

  “What?”

  “So I had to think of another way to end my marriage for us to be together.”

  Jennifer couldn’t believe her ears. Must be the morphine talking, she figured. Yet Tony sounded lucid, just very relaxed, as if he’d lost all inhibitions. And he looked at her clearly when he spoke.

  “Finally I made a plan. At my clinic we use a drug called pentobarbital to euthanize animals. It took me a year to figure out the right dosage for a person of her size and weight, one that wouldn’t kill outright as we do at the clinic but a dose she couldn’t survive for long.”

  Jennifer’s mouth gaped in surprise.

  “I gave her a sedative first and when she slept I injected the drug slowly, a little between each of her toes where it left no bulge and nobody would look for it. Right on schedule she had trouble breathing. When rescue arrived, the respiratory difficulties progressed into cardiac arrest and death at the ER, exactly as I’d calculated.”

  Jennifer’s surprise turned to shock as he continued. “She didn’t want cremation but I had no choice in case anyone looked later for evidence. The drug’s detectable in an exhumed body and I couldn’t risk it. Kirsten’s death left me free at last. But not you. With Jason alive, you remained trapped in your own marriage.”

  Shock changed to horror. She stood, trembling, beside the hospital bed, hating to hear more but too fascinated to leave.

  Tony spoke again. “I tried to stage an accidental shooting on the hunting trip but when that failed, the crash was the only way. If I brought the truck to a stop he’d be alive and you beyond my grasp. Instead I hit the accelerator to crash the truck—to get rid of him. It was my last chance. If he died, you and I could start life together. If I died instead, that would be better than facing the future without you, my darling. I did it all for you…for us. And now we can stay together all the rest of our lives.” He looked deep into her widened eyes. “I love you, sweet Jennifer. Let me hear you say it to me. I’ve waited so long to…hear you say those…beautiful words.”

  “I…I,
” she gasped. But his eyes had closed as he fell into a deep sleep with a smile on his lips.

  Jennifer staggered out of Tony’s curtained enclosure, hurried back toward the Neurology Ward and reached her husband’s room just as several of their children arrived to visit their dad.

  91

  Tuesday, 12:46 PM

  “The workmen are here, Miss Jennifer,” Celeste informed her as she hurried into the house. “Becca says the Mister is at the hospital. Is he all right?”

  “Yes. Thanks for asking. He comes home tomorrow. What about you, Celeste? Are you well and happy?”

  She laughed. “I am both.”

  “Are you still planning to help us here on Thanksgiving?”

  “Oh yes, Fred and I will both be here.”

  “Good. Let’s see…” Jennifer consulted her list. “I need to take something to the bank, pay the workmen, figure out dinner, make more phone calls, get groceries for Thursday and get back to the hospital.

  “I can see you are busy, but…” She looked uncomfortable.

  “What is it, Celeste?”

  “You have been very good to me, and I found something I think you should know about.”

  “What?”

  “It’s something at Mr. Tony’s house across the street. I clean for you Tuesday mornings and for him Tuesday afternoons. His wife used to let me in, but now that she’s gone, he gave me a key. We could go there now or whenever is good for you on a busy day.”

  “This sounds important, but can it wait until this afternoon?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. We’ll do it before I leave for the hospital. Thank you, Celeste.”

  Jennifer ran upstairs, grabbed the sock, poured out the contents and separated the diamonds from the M&Ms, leaving the candies in a dish on her vanity. The lockbox proved a smart place to keep the diamonds before so she’d put them back. She checked the refrigerator and pantry supplies against her Thanksgiving menu shopping list. With Becca visiting her dad at the hospital, she left Celeste in charge of the workmen and hurried to complete her errands in town.

  At the Giant grocery store she chose a bouquet, took it to the bank and presented it to the manager before returning the diamonds to the vault. The card read: “Thanks to all of you at McLean Bank who safeguard your clients as well as their valuables.” Understandably curious about what happened yesterday, they had many questions. Because they’d played so important a role, she felt she owed them an explanation and outlined the police arrests—but excluded the kidnapping and the diamonds.

  After her other errands, she returned home. Celeste and crew had just finished their work. Jennifer paid her.

  “Now my team goes to Mr. Tony’s house. While they work downstairs, we could go upstairs.”

  Celeste led her to Tony’s master bedroom, opened his closet door and pointed toward the back to a thin bulletin board. “He hid this here behind his clothes. Because it faces against the wall, I always vacuumed around without moving it. But Miss Kirsten said to pretend I’m spring cleaning even though it’s fall and move things usually left in place. So last time I cleaned here, I took this out. Look what’s on the other side.” Celeste pulled out the large bulletin board and spun it around.

  Jen gasped, eyes wide. Photos of her covered the surface, some cropped from group scenes eliminating all but her, and several of her and Tony, again culled from larger group shots. This discovery reinforced his drug-induced rambling confession in the ICU. Had he murdered his wife, Jennifer’s close friend, to further a relationship existing only in his mind?

  She shuddered.

  “Thank you very much, Celeste. I value your loyalty to me and appreciate your decision to show me this. You knew something was wrong here. What you don’t know is Mr. Tony’s in the hospital, very sick. If he doesn’t get better, his children shouldn’t find this. Let’s slip it inside a big trash bag and I’ll get rid of it at my house.”

  “Oh, Miss Jennifer, I hope I did the right thing.”

  Jennifer hugged her. “You did. You were very brave to make this decision.”

  92

  Tuesday, 12:57 PM

  Ahmed had met with the Russians—Natasha and Boris—earlier that morning to confirm the Great Leader’s promise they’d receive payment from another source, in currency rather than diamonds, for vests with explosives, uzi’s, canisters of Sarin gas, a few rockets and miscellanea. Said inventory would be delivered to the warehouse Ahmed selected tomorrow afternoon by 5:00.

  When “Mustafa” was forced to identify himself as Ahmed to qualify to the Russians as spokesperson for his side of their arrangement, “Natasha” revealed her name was really Anna. This provided the two otherwise-guarded conspirators their first laugh together.

  Anna handed Ahmed an envelope. “Since we received our payment in a different form, here are your ten diamonds.” Surprised at her unexpected honesty, Ahmed nodded his thanks.

  The original ambitious list of supplies had narrowed to meet the terrorists’ more modest needs. They’d no longer use mega explosives to ignite loaded semi-trucks at loading docks or to implode part of the metro tunnel or to bring down an elevated rapid transit train. The objectives had tamed, but twelve well-armed men with weapons, grenades and strapped-on explosives could still create dramatic destruction and carnage in a mall crowded with Black Friday shoppers.

  As the Great Leader instructed, Ahmed guided the van-load of men arriving at 10:00 to a local motel, where they occupied adjacent first-floor rooms. Abdul drove separately in his own car. Gathering in one of the rooms, the ten men, who had met for the first time when they boarded the van in Maryland, introduced themselves to Ahmed and Abdul and described their skills.

  Exuberance united them upon learning they targeted a large shopping mall on Friday at 1:00. Abdul distributed maps, the kind available to any mall shopper, showing the basic layout of stores and restaurants. Until the wee hours last night, Ahmed had worked out who would carry what weapons to which locations and now conveyed this battle plan to them.

  Friday morning they were to appear clean-shaven, wearing accurate watches. They would board the van at 9:00 and synchronize their timepieces. Abdul arranged with motel management for late departure, but they’d never pay for the rooms since they’d be dead by that checkout time.

  They’d drive their twelve-person van to the weapon warehouse, eat breakfast there and assist each other in concealing their assigned guns and explosives under bulky winter coats brought with them. At noon the van would drive to the mall, dropping them off singly at entrances near their destinations. The last man would park the van, never to return, before also entering the mall. Each man would be given a newspaper and a magazine. At their target points they’d inconspicuously windowshop or sit down to read until one o’clock when the jihad would begin.

  During their stay at the motel, at mealtime one man would bring the rest carryout food, which they’d eat in their rooms. They’d become virtually invisible at the motel, drawing no attention to themselves individually or as a group. Nothing could go wrong.

  But for Ahmed, everything had gone wrong. Stuck in this miserable motel, he couldn’t say goodbye to Khadija or the others at her house. He thought of the wife he would never hold, the children he would never love and the gentle old age he would never reach. He questioned the slaughter he planned, its purpose, its uncertain result and even its instant path to Paradise.

  Why had Allah tortured him by throwing boulders across this path to righteousness? What had Ahmed’s questioning achieved? Was Maury Rosenblum right when he said after the Frisbee game that Jews and Arabs in America could live and work productively together? If that were true, had Ahmed exerted his life’s energy in exactly the wrong direction?

  He wanted out of this nightmare but realized with a shudder that the walls inexorably tightening around him imprisoned him totally.

  93

  Tuesday, 2:04 PM

  The Great Leader’s kill order for Jennifer Shannon weighed heavily on Ahm
ed’s mind. Did she deserve to die for innocently buying a doll at a garage sale with no idea about the treasure inside? Once she found it, she acted logically to protect it. On the other hand, her actions drastically impaired their grand mission by stealing its funds and reducing their manpower. Only the Great Leader’s ingenuity and resources restored their ability to attack.

  He’d like to spare the woman but that defied a direct order. Who knew where the Great Leader positioned eyes to watch his every move? His choice: mercy for the woman or defiance of his mentor. Which path did Allah intend? In the end, with no way out of his cage, he saw no choice.

  Ahmed knew Abdul’s car provided flexibility the rest didn’t have, so Abdul would carry out the order to kill Jennifer Shannon.

  He did not question the assignment when Ahmed told him to eliminate her. From the start, Abdul thought her an insufferable, meddling woman. Her actions to destroy their original magnificent plans deserved punishment. Death after painful torture seemed best, but death in any form repaid her infidel wickedness.

  “At your house you already have a pistol, a rifle, knives and grenades. Choose the method you think best to dispose of her, close or at a distance. Do it today and report to me when you finish.”

  “It shall be as you say,” Abdul responded before driving home to get the equipment he’d need.

  If Abdul were a passenger with a driver, killing her as she drove would be easy, but shooting accurately at someone while driving yourself was hard—he knew from experience. So, he would do the job at her house.

  He parked near the tennis court in her residential neighborhood, hid his gun beneath his coat, threaded his way past the community tennis courts and crept into the parkland to reach her house as he had done before. Hidden behind a tree at the edge of the woods, he watched for her to appear in front of any window. He waited. Half an hour passed. This, he knew, was one of his last three days on earth and he wished to spend the time differently than shivering in the woods. He waited. Another thirty minutes went by. Enough. Could he just tell Ahmed he’d done it? Would his leader learn the truth in the time left?