Fallacy (Detective Jade Monroe 3)

by C. M. Sutter

  Mandy did as she was told.

  “Now put duct tape across his mouth and eyes. Make sure it’s secured tightly to the back of the chair so he can’t squirm. I want our next project to be perfect. Mariah, cut that tape off his forehead.”

  When Mandy and Mariah had done what they were told, Alice handed the sandpaper to Mandy.

  “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  “Sand his forehead real good. I don’t want any tape residue on him.”

  Mandy’s feet were frozen to the floor until Alice shoved her toward Larry.

  “Move it. Your day is far from over.” Alice crossed the room and grabbed a magazine off the end table. She fanned her face with the pages. “Hot in here with all this adrenaline flowing. Start sanding. I’ll tell you when it’s good enough.” Alice took her seat next to Mariah and watched Mandy work.

  “Mama, his forehead is bleeding from all the sanding.”

  “I can fix that.” Alice rose and entered the first room down the hallway. She returned with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured it over Larry’s forehead.

  His back arched stiffly with pain. Muffled cries sounded through the tape. She wiped his forehead.

  “Guess we got the sticky stuff off.” She opened the Dremel attachments box and sorted through them. “This one looks good.” She put the bit in the end of the tool and handed it to Mandy. “I want you to write cheater across his forehead in big block letters. You had better make it look good too or you’ll suffer my wrath. No misspelled words, and I want it neat so everyone can read it.”

  Mandy slowly carved each letter into Larry’s forehead. She was thankful when he finally passed out from the pain. “I’m done, Mama.”

  Alice stood and moved in closely to inspect Mandy’s work. She dabbed the paper towel across Larry’s forehead. “Good girl. That’s enough until John gets here. I’ll start dinner.”

  Chapter 28

  The cardboard clock hooked through the suction cup on the office door showed the manager was out to lunch. The red hands on the clock were pointed at one thirty. The office would re-open then.

  “Didn’t the manager know we’d want to talk to him?” I said, somewhat perturbed as I jiggled the handle on the locked door.

  Jack shrugged. “Maybe he thought calling in the abandoned car was talking to somebody. Let’s start with the tenant in E-207. After we interview her, we’ll do our routine ‘knock and talk’ to whoever is home in the D, E, and F buildings. We’ll catch the manager later.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” We climbed the stairs to the second floor and followed the hallway to E-207. “Here it is.” I knocked and heard footsteps approaching. I was sure the five-second hesitation to open the door was due to the tenant sizing us up through the peephole. I heard the familiar sound of a chain lock slide, then a dead bolt turn, and finally the door creaked open. A friendly looking twentysomething woman smiled widely at us.

  “Hi there,” Jack said. “We’re detectives Monroe and Steele from the sheriff’s department. May we speak to you for a few minutes?”

  “Sure, come on in. I’m Heidi Anderson.”

  We shook Heidi’s hand and took a seat on the couch in her small but nicely decorated living room. She pulled a kitchen chair in and sat across from us.

  “Heidi, could you walk us through this morning when you got home?” I asked.

  “It wasn’t anything eventful.” She looked at me, and I nodded for her to continue. “I spent five days at my parents’ cabin in Rhinelander. Let’s see, I left there at eight o’clock, so I must have gotten home around eleven thirty. I already had the week planned off of work.”

  “And then what?” Jack asked.

  “I pulled into the parking lot kind of mindlessly, I guess, and approached my spot to turn in, but a car was parked there. I looked around and didn’t see anybody outside, so I drove over to the manager’s office and parked in the visitors’ area. I told Mr. Crane about it, and he called it in. My car is still sitting there. That’s really all I know.”

  “Okay, thanks, Heidi. You can move your car back to your space now. The other car has been towed away.”

  We handed her our cards, asked her to call if she thought of anything else, and crossed the hallway to the adjacent apartment.

  We’d spent the next two hours interviewing people that hadn’t noticed anything, but it was something we had to do. There was always a chance we’d catch a break.

  Nobody remembered anything that stood out. With the patios and balconies facing the inner area where the pool was located, it was unlikely we’d find a tenant that had a reason to look out a bedroom window at the parking lot on Tuesday night.

  “Let’s see if the manager is in,” I said as we took the stairs down and followed the arrow leading us back to the office.

  “Excuse me, officers.”

  We turned and recognized a young woman following us down the sidewalk. We had spoken to her about an hour back, and she lived in the E building on the first floor.

  “There actually is something I remember about Tuesday night. It’s probably nothing, but when I came home from the movies, there was a truck in my parking spot. I had to wait for them to leave so I could pull in.”

  “Your name again?” I asked as I took out my notepad.

  “Brenda Miller.”

  “Brenda, do you remember what time that was?”

  “Um… the movie let out at ten, and then I went to a fast-food restaurant with my friend. I probably got home around elevenish.”

  “Okay.” I wrote that down.

  “Would you mind showing us which parking slot is yours?” Jack said.

  “Sure, right over here.”

  We crossed the parking lot, and she pointed at a spot two slots away from where the Corolla had been parked. A blue subcompact was neatly parked between two other vehicles.

  “That’s your car?” Jack asked.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Do you remember anything about the truck that was parked there, like the color, model, or anything unusual about it?” I asked.

  “I remember it was dark, but at nighttime I couldn’t tell you the exact color. It could have been black or dark blue, maybe even dark green.”

  “Anything else? Take your time and think hard. How about the people in it?”

  “That’s right. I saw a woman jump into the passenger side, then it sped away.”

  I gave Jack a hopeful glance. “Could you tell her age, hair color, what she wore?”

  “Um… her hair was definitely blond, about shoulder length.”

  She waited as I wrote that down.

  “And, I think she looked like my age.”

  I smiled at Brenda. “Which is?”

  “Oh, sorry.” Her face went red. “I’m twenty-two.”

  “Okay, that’s a big help, Brenda. Here are our cards if you happen to remember anything else. Thank you.”

  “Very interesting,” Jack said as we headed to the manager’s office. “We might be making progress after all.”

  “That’s a good sign.” I noticed the cardboard clock was no longer on the glass door. “Mr. Crane must be back.”

  Jack pushed the door open, and we entered. A long reception counter stood directly in front of us, covered with brochures about the complex, a plate of cookies, and a cup filled with pens. To our left was a water cooler with small paper cups in a dispenser, and to our right were two plum-colored guest chairs with a landscape hanging on the wall above them. A bell sat on the counter next to the brochures.

  We waited for a minute, expecting somebody to greet us, but when nobody did, I rang the bell. A male voice sounded from an adjoining room.

  “One minute, please.”

  We continued to wait. Finally, a slightly overweight gentleman appeared from around the corner. He looked to be in his late sixties. He had thinning gray hair, and reading glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose. He wore an ivory-colored short sleeve shirt and khaki pants. Several ballpoint pens peeked ou
t of his shirt pocket.

  We introduced ourselves.

  “Sorry about that. I was in the middle of answering an instant message from a potential tenant. What can I help you with detectives?”

  “It’s Mr. Crane, correct?”

  “Yes, ma’am. That’s me last time I looked.” He chuckled at his own comment.

  “Great. Can you spare a few minutes? We have several questions for you about the car that was parked in slot E-207,” Jack said.

  “I’m the one that called it in. I told the cops it didn’t belong there. What else do you need to know?”

  “Is there a place we can sit to have this conversation, sir?”

  “Sure, come on back to my private office.” He chuckled again.

  I gave Jack an eye roll as we followed Mr. Crane to the next room.

  “Have a seat,” he said as he pointed at several folding chairs.

  “Mr. Crane, do you monitor the complex or just show apartments?” Jack asked.

  “You mean like security patrol?”

  “Yes, in a way. Do you walk around the complex and do you live onsite?”

  “Sure do, but mostly I watch the pool area from my apartment. I live in A-4 and have the best view of the pool and landscaping.”

  “I’m sure you do. Do you ever check the parking lot?”

  “No, I don’t have a reason to since all the slots are assigned. We’ve got a visitors’ parking area near the entrance with ten spaces—first come, first served sort of thing.”

  “Sure, understood. Can you walk us through this morning when Heidi Anderson told you there was a car in her space?”

  “Not much to tell. She came into the office and told me a white car was parked in her slot. I grabbed my phone and followed her out. I called the North Bend PD and gave them the license number and description of the car. I told them it must have been abandoned since all of the residents know that their guests have to park in a visitor’s spot.”

  I wrote as he spoke, even though the information was redundant. His statement was nearly verbatim to Heidi’s. “Is there anything else you remember about it?”

  “I peered through the windows and noticed the floor was a mess with empty food bags. I guess that’s it.”

  Jack furrowed his brows. “So you touched the car?”

  “Um… sort of, if you call cupping my hands to the glass to see inside better, touching it. I didn’t open the doors or anything like that, but I did pick up a scrap of paper lying on the ground by the driver’s side.”

  “What did you do with it?” I asked.

  “I meant to throw it away, but I think it’s still in my pocket. Garbage is always blowing around. I do my best to keep this place tidy.”

  I asked him to check to see if he still had it. Mr. Crane stood and fished the piece of paper out of his front left pants pocket.

  “Yep, here it is.”

  He handed the scrunched-up slip of paper to me. I opened it, smoothed it out on the desk, and took a look.

  “What is it?” Jack asked.

  “An insured parcel was sent from the post office a few days ago. This is the receipt.” I put it inside my notepad so it wouldn’t get misplaced. “Thank you, Mr. Crane. We noticed there’s sporadic video cameras located throughout the grounds. Are they live and can you access them?”

  “Yep, they’re live, but I’d have to get somebody in to pull them up. I’m not that electronically savvy.”

  “We have technicians that could access the feed with your permission,” I said.

  He scratched his forehead, as if in thought. “Well, I’m not at liberty to do that sort of thing. I’d have to call the parent company first for permission.”

  “Could you do that now, please?” Jack asked.

  Mr. Crane looked at his watch and shrugged. “I would if I could, but they’re in Great Britain. It’s ten o’clock their time. The best I could do is leave a message, but I won’t get anyone on the horn, that’s for sure.”

  I stood to leave. “Okay, that’s fine, but let them know if they don’t agree to let us go ahead, we’ll get a warrant for the video. Either way, we’ll be watching that video tomorrow. We’d much rather deal with a cooperative party. Refusing us access to it would be interfering with a murder investigation.”

  “Murder, Sergeant? Because a car was abandoned here in the parking lot?”

  “That’s correct, and make sure you mention that in your message.”

  We told him we’d check back with him in the morning, shook his hand, and left.

  With the time-stamped fast-food receipts in the car, the post office receipt, a possible video from the apartment that might show a dark green truck and a young blond woman getting into it, we had something to work with. We still had dentists, podiatrists, churches, and tire stores to follow up with too. I was sure we’d be busy for days to come.

  “Let’s head back. We’ll update Clark and see if Clayton and Billings found out anything from the tire stores,” Jack said.

  “It’s a shame, you know.” I heaved a sigh as we walked back to the car.

  “What’s that?”

  “If we can’t figure out who John Doe is, he’ll have to go in the ground unidentified or get cremated on the county’s dime. Too bad he can’t be donated to medical research.”

  “Yeah, but there wasn’t much of him left to donate. I’m definitely leaning toward the family for the murder. Now we just need to find them.”

  Jack and I returned to the station, parked the cruiser, and crossed the lot. The heat that radiated from the asphalt was still intense even this late in the afternoon. Inside, Jack punched in the code to the bull pen. Clayton and Billings looked as though they were packing up for the day.

  “No leads on the tires?” I asked.

  Clayton spoke up. “Nah—some said they’d call back after they had time to check their records. Tomorrow, we should get”—with his index finger, he poked each name as he counted—“nine callbacks.”

  “There might be a video of the parking lot from last night,” Jack announced.

  Clark came out of his office, his ears perked. “Did I hear you right?”

  “Yep, except the manager needs permission from the parent company to allow us access. He should have it tomorrow. If not, we told him we would get a warrant for it, anyway.”

  “Good, stay on top of that.”

  “Will do, boss.”

  “Go home and get some rest. I’ll update Horbeck and Jamison when they get in.”

  “Thanks, boss. Good night.” Jack and I walked to my car and got in. “I can wait around if you want to drop your car off.”

  “You sure? They probably won’t get to it anymore today. That means I’ll have to hitch a ride with you again in the morning.”

  “I don’t mind, but you aren’t getting off scot-free,” I said. “You’re buying coffee and doughnuts in the morning.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, woman, but you’ve got a deal. It won’t take long, I promise.”

  Chapter 29

  “Clean up your plate so you can get ready for John,” Alice said as she shoveled food into her mouth.

  “I’m not hungry.” Mandy pushed her plate aside and wrung her hands. “How can you two sit here and eat when Larry is taped to the chair and has broken teeth, a carved forehead, and a noose around his neck?” Mandy glanced at him, then looked away. “He’s staring at us. Look at his eyes—he’s petrified.”

  Alice swatted the air and dismissed Mandy’s statement. “He’s lucky he still has eyes in his head, and he won’t be petrified for long. Go on, then, put your dishes in the sink and get upstairs and change. We’ll catch John off-guard in the workshop. We wouldn’t want Larry to ruin the surprise for him.” Alice took Mandy’s plate and scraped the macaroni and cheese onto her own, then handed it back to her. “Wash that plate before you go upstairs.”

  Mandy rose and took her plate and fork to the sink. With the dishrag, she scrubbed them thoroughly, rinsed them, and set them in the
dish drainer alongside the breakfast dishes. She heaved a sigh as she crossed the kitchen and left Alice, Mariah, and Larry at the table alone.

  She came down the stairs thirty minutes later wearing the same dress she had on earlier. Alice and Mariah sat in the living room, enjoying a TV game show when Mandy entered.

  “I’m ready, Mama.”

  “You look real nice.” Alice glanced at the clock. “John should be here soon. We’ll entertain him for a while in the workshop, then we’ll come back for Larry. You should be proud of yourself, sweet pea. You’re helping to rid this town of bad men.”

  Mandy’s lip curled with disdain. “Think what you want, Mama, we’re all going to hell.”

  “Watch that tongue.” Alice smiled as if she had a revelation. “I just thought of something different for John.”

  Mandy passed in front of the TV and headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?” Alice paused the television and gave Mandy a bewildered look. “John isn’t going to be here for another half hour.”

  “I know, Mama, but I want to check the workshop and be left alone for a while.”

  “Don’t dillydally out there too long. We have to go over the plan one last time.”

  Mandy nodded and closed the door at her back.

  Mariah pulled the curtain aside and stared at her sister through the window. A small dust cloud formed as Mandy trudged across the driveway. “What’s her problem?”

  “I don’t know, honey, but let’s finish watching this show. It’s almost over.” A muffled groan sounded to Alice’s left. She turned and gave Larry a warning scowl. “Do you want to die now or later?” She smirked when he fell quiet. “That’s what I thought.”

  “Mandy is coming back, Mama,” Mariah said when she noticed her sister returning from the workshop.

  The hinges creaked when Mandy opened the door and entered the living room. She sat on the couch and gave the clock a sideways glance.

  Alice stared at her daughter suspiciously. She noticed Mandy’s left eyebrow twitch. “Are you done with whatever you had to do?”