by A M Ialacci
Cruz looked at Charlie, who shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t ask. It’s better that way.”
Chapter Ten
Dwight and Nick went off to check out some possible offices for the FBI team, and Charlie’s phone beeped.
“It’s a text from Darius. Positive ID on Harriet Brennan. Her wife, Violet, confirmed.”
“We’ll need to talk to her wife very soon, but maybe not this morning,” Allie suggested.
Charlie nodded. “This afternoon. First, let’s poke around here, get a feel for who Harriet was, what she did, and the people she worked with.”
“Exactly what I was thinking. Dwight’s busy. Who should we start with?”
“How about the rangers who reported to her? Let’s see who’s here and what they say.”
Charlie flashed his badge at the information desk and was soon given a list of rangers currently working the Cape Lookout National Seashore, along with their current levels and dates of hire.
“Of course, not all of these were on duty or at the Cape last night. Some may have been done for the day, others at Shack, others here at the Visitor Center. We’ll need an accounting of who was where and when,” Charlie said. “Let’s ask.”
“Who would know which rangers were working last night?” Allie asked the volunteer at the desk.
“Harriet Brennan,” the sullen woman said.
Charlie nodded. “Her office?”
“Up the stairs, second door on the left.” The volunteer pointed.
“Maybe she has a written record or an agenda on her computer,” he said as they took the stairs.
Her office was simple—a wooden desk that fit the space faced the door with two small chairs in front of it for visitors. The walls were lined with pictures of Harriet in the community with kids, and on the Cape, sometimes with animals. Allie spotted a picture of Ryan and other kids from the Autism Center. There was a paper desk calendar filled with scribbles and doodles along with appointments and events. Allie sat in the desk chair and moved the mouse to wake the screen up. She was prompted for a password, which Harriet had luckily put on a Post-It note in the corner of the screen.
“Looks like they use Outlook. Maybe there’s a staff schedule in there,” she said. After hunting around for about ten minutes, she turned to Charlie. “I don’t think there’s anything here. It doesn’t look like she uses this system that much.”
An auburn-haired woman in her mid-thirties, dressed in the green ranger uniform, stepped into the office and then pulled up short when she saw them. “Oh!”
Charlie stood and flashed his badge. “Chief Detective Bishop, and this is my consultant, Allie Fox. You are?”
“Becca Holt,” she said, reaching out to shake their hands. “I’m a ranger, obviously.” She gestured to her uniform. “I was just coming in to get a file from Harriet’s desk. Superintendent Goodwin has asked me to take over the scheduling for now.”
“Oh, good. Then you’re just the person we need,” Charlie said. “Who was working last night and where?”
“Of course,” she said, clasping her hands together. “Um, I was. Greg Chan, Jenny Dowling. Dwight was here—hadn’t even gotten to the island before…”
“Before Harriet was found?” Charlie asked.
Becca swallowed and nodded. “I’m not sure about Law Enforcement officers. They do their own schedule. But I saw Sandy Greer there. I think a couple of the others showed up a bit later when she radioed for backup.”
“We’ll talk more later, but do you have any idea why someone would want to kill Harriet?” Charlie asked.
Allie watched her closely and noted the slight hesitation and lick of the lips before her response.
“Of course not. She was really the face of the NPS in the community. She did so much for turtle-hatching season and promoting ecological responsibility. Allowing the animals, the wild horses, and the marine life their natural habitat. And her work with kids in the schools and partnering with disability groups. She was loved. I can’t think of any reason anyone would want to hurt her.”
“Someone did, no doubt about that,” Charlie said.
“And you think it was one of us?” Becca asked.
Charlie shook his head. “I don’t think anything yet. Just asking questions.” He smiled.
Becca nodded.
“Anyone else around here we should talk to besides the rangers you mentioned?” Charlie asked.
“Not that I think he had anything to do with it, you understand,” she said. “But Harriet had a lot of dealings with Tim Douglas, the owner of the ferry service.”
“Dealings?” Allie asked.
“Compliance. He has a contract and strict standards for safety and cleanliness, that sort of thing. Harriet oversaw that end of things, too.”
“Anyone else?” Charlie asked.
Another hesitation. “Well, there’s one guy… Again, not that I believe he would ever hurt her, but they had a pretty antagonistic relationship.”
“Who was that?” Charlie asked.
“His name is Lester Fulcher. He’s an older fella, a local who likes to get up in arms about his rights being taken away. And he directs a lot of his anger at us because we’re the closest representatives of the government. He often breaks regulations and rules just to wind Harriet up. At least he did,” she said, shrugging.
Charlie nodded. “I’m aware of Les. You aren’t the only government entity he likes to wind up.”
“You too?” Becca laughed.
“He’s… a character,” Charlie said. “All right, we won’t take up any more of your time. You’ve been very helpful. We’ll speak to you again soon.”
“All right,” she said as Charlie and Allie stood to leave and each shook her hand as they left the office.
“What’s next?” Allie asked when they had cleared the front doors.
“I really want to go see Violet, Harriet’s wife. I don’t want to intrude upon her grief, but we have a limited amount of time, too.”
Allie looked at her watch. “Why don’t we grab a bite to eat, lay out a plan, and then we can head that way?”
“I like that idea,” Charlie said, and his stomach growled. His phone rang, and he said, “Hold that thought.”
Allie listened to his half of the short conversation, and when he hung up, she asked, “That was Kat Matthews, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” he said. “We need to make a stop in Beaufort.”
“Great,” Allie said. She had been confident that the dirt she had on Kat Matthews would allow her to consult on the case with ease. But it was possible that Kat found a workaround. She was a clever lady. A woman didn’t become DA in the middle of this good ol’ boy network without a few tricks up her sleeve.
They stopped at the Outer Island General Store for a biscuit on the way. Charlie asked after Ryan, and Allie said, “He’s doing okay. He’s at his friend Frankie’s house today.”
Charlie nodded. “You know, we can always set him up with Sheila if you need someone to look after him while we’re off investigating.”
“I know.” Allie smiled. “You guys have been so good to us.”
Charlie shook his head. “We all need people, right? You and Ryan mean a lot to us.”
“Backatchya,” she said and winked.
Charlie laughed. “You ready for Ms. Matthews?”
“Is anyone ever really ready for that?” She rolled her eyes.
He laughed again. When he had parked at the courthouse, Allie left her purse in the car, knowing she’d have to go through the metal detector. Charlie led the way to Kat’s office and checked in with the receptionist. A few moments later, Kat herself opened her office door and motioned them in.
“So the task force has given you the go-ahead to be involved in this investigation,” Kat said, her eyes trained on Allie.
Allie nodded, and Charlie said, “Yes, ma’am.”
“And you just happened to be there when the body was found.”
“My brother was
the one to find her,” Allie said.
“Ah, yes, your brother. What was he off by himself for? Weren’t you watching him?” Kat smirked.
“A ranger who knew him had volunteered to keep an eye on him for a few minutes. Apparently, he wandered away,” Allie said, her cheeks flushing.
Kat tutted and stared hard at Allie. “Seems like we’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we?”
“Ma’am? Is there something you needed from us?” Charlie said, his voice a little edgier than usual.
“I just wanted to remind you both, but particularly Allie, here, that you are representing our county with some pretty powerful people. If it were me, of course, I wouldn’t have allowed a civilian anywhere near the investigation, but you have friends in high places, Miss Fox.”
“If I’m not mistaken, it is up to you, ma’am,” Charlie reminded her.
Kat shook her head. “It seems a few on the task force want her there, and I’m not going to deny them that and get in the middle of it all.” She leaned forward. “However, I draw the line at a civilian having access to files and evidence. She can tag along with you when you question suspects and such. But she does not get her hands on anything. Am I understood, Chief Detective Bishop?” She stood and puffed out her chest, fingers splayed on her desk blotter.
Charlie glanced at Allie, then back at Kat Matthews. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Do your jobs and don’t make fools of us. It’s all I ask.” She folded her arms and nodded at the door, dismissing them from her office.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Charlie said.
“Yeah, thanks,” Allie said, smiling.
Kat’s face dropped into a scowl, the last thing Allie saw before she closed the office door. It just about made her day.
Chapter Eleven
Charlie pulled up to the large home on Straits Drive. There were two vehicles in the driveway, so chances were good that Violet was home. They climbed the long flight of steps to the front door and knocked. After a few moments, a tall woman in her forties with close-cropped, platinum-blonde hair opened the door. She looked at Charlie’s badge on his belt and began to cry.
“Ma’am, I’m so sorry to have to call on you like this,” Charlie said.
“No, no. It’s fine.” She wiped her eyes and nose with a tissue. “Come in, please. I apologize.”
“No apologies necessary, ma’am. You’ve been through a traumatic experience,” Charlie said. “I’m Chief Detective Charlie Bishop, and this is my consultant Allie Fox.”
“You can call me Vi. Please sit,” she said, gesturing to a large, overstuffed linen couch with a view through floor-to-ceiling windows of a dock that lead out to the calm blue water of The Straits. “How can I help you?”
“We wanted to ask you a few questions, and maybe look around the house with your permission.”
“Of course,” she said. “Anything you need. Can I get you some tea or water?”
“No, we’re fine,” Charlie answered. “Did Harriet have any enemies that you know of?”
“Enemies?” Vi laughed. “No. She was adored. Everyone we knew loved her.”
“All right, anyone she complained about? Someone at work?”
“At the park?” She looked up at an angle, thinking. “No, no one that I can recall specifically. Obviously, she griped about work like we all do, but no one in particular.”
“And your marriage was happy?” Charlie asked.
Vi paused. “Ah. Now I’m a possibility?” The corners of her mouth turned up, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She continued before Charlie could answer. “Yes, we were very happy. We’ve been together for eighteen years. We even traveled to Massachusetts as soon as it was legal to marry there.”
Charlie smiled. “And you were where last night?”
“I was here, watching Netflix,” Vi said.
“Was Harriet acting strange in any way in the days or weeks leading up to her murder?”
Vi’s face crumpled at the word. She swiped at her face with the tissue again. “Uh… no. Nothing that stood out in any way. Everything was normal. I just can’t believe she’s gone.”
“We are so sorry for your loss,” Charlie said.
Vi nodded absently. “Did you want to look around?”
“If you don’t mind,” Charlie said.
“Of course. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” she said and disappeared around the corner.
“Need a pair of gloves?” Charlie asked.
“I’ve got some.” Allie smiled.
“Look at you, fancy-pants private investigator.” Charlie laughed. “I’ll start in the bedroom if you want to look around here in the living room.”
Allie nodded and began a sweep of the room, noting the pictures on the walls that mimicked the ones in Harriet’s office. Lots of kids, animals, but also several of Harriet and Vi on their various travels. Although the pictures were personal, little else was in the living room, which was a bit curious. Typically, people spent the bulk of their hours at home in the living room and their bedroom, and they were the two most likely rooms to contain personal items that would tell you something about a victim. Not the case here. She peeked behind some of the wall hangings, checking for hidden safes. There were none, but she did find a large, patched hole in the drywall behind one. Interesting.
Next, she checked furniture cushions and underneath. Along the edge of the carpet near the foyer, she found several tiny pieces of broken glass. She picked them up and put them in a small glassine bag she pulled from her back pocket. So much for not handling evidence.
There was a small pile of mail in a basket near the foyer as well. She flipped through it. Mostly advertisements, something from a doctor’s office, and what looked like a credit card bill. Nothing earth-shattering.
Allie went to see how Charlie was making out and noted several guest rooms along the way that looked like they hadn’t been touched in years. She found Charlie in the master bedroom, going through one of the nightstands.
“I guess this was her side,” he said. “I found several dated journals, but not a current one.”
“That’s odd,” Allie said.
“And they don’t look like they were written with ballpoint pen, either.”
“Charlie, she had ink on her right hand. She probably uses fountain pens.”
“You’re right,” Charlie said. “Did you see an office on your way up here?”
“No, but there has to be one, right?”
“Probably, in a house this size,” he said.
“Have you looked in the closet yet?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “I’ve been looking through the journals to see if they would give us any insight.”
“And?” Allie asked.
“No go. They’re pretty boring, actually. Mostly about the weather, any animal sightings, beach erosion. More of a scientific journal, really.”
“Bummer,” Allie said, opening a closet door and turning on the light.
She supposed that Vi and Harriet each had their own closets, and that the one with ranger uniforms belonged to Harriet. She went through both, looking for something stowed away, a box stuffed with mementos, a photo album. Something personal that would tell them more about Harriet Brennan and why she was killed. At the back of Harriet’s closet, she found a plain-looking shoebox with what some might call “adult toys” inside.
“Uh, Charlie,” she said, motioning for him to come over and look.
“Huh,” Charlie said. “I suppose that’s fairly normal, right?”
Allie paused. “I guess, but if they were being used regularly, wouldn’t they be by the bed? Why are they being stored in the back of the closet, almost hidden in plain sight?”
“We could ask Vi about them,” Charlie suggested.
“You want to take that on?” Allie held the box out to him.
Charlie smiled. “I’ve had quite a few more difficult conversations than that.” He took the box and disappeared downstairs.
&nbs
p; Allie continued her search but didn’t turn up much else. Who was Harriet Brennan?
She left the master bedroom, wandered a little further down the hall, and found an office. It had a small writing desk off to one side, several tall bookshelves, a well-worn loveseat, and an armchair in the corner under a reading lamp. There was a shorter bookshelf closer to the desk which held various bottles of ink and a display of several fountain pens. “That confirms that theory,” Allie said. There were also several empty leather covers on the bottom shelf that looked like they held several smaller notebooks at a time. Allie couldn’t help but feel like the journals Charlie had found in the nightstand were not the only notebooks that Harriet had kept. A cursory look through the desk drawers turned up nothing of note.
Charlie returned with the box and said, “Vi claimed she and Harriet used these, but her body language told another story.”
“Interesting,” Allie said. “I found bottles of ink and several fountain pens here, so that’s likely the source of the ink on her hand. Also what look like leather journal covers, so I have a hunch there are more notebooks than the ones you found.”
“Wonder where they are,” Charlie said.
“Me too. Also found some glass shards near the edge of the carpet downstairs and a patched hole in the wall behind a painting.” She opened the closet door and a pillow and a blanket fell out at her feet. “Maybe someone was sleeping on the loveseat in here recently?” Allie suggested.
“Sounds like maybe Harriet and Vi may not have been as happy a couple as Vi seems to recall,” Charlie said.
“I think I’ve found all I’m going to find here. But I have a hunch. Let’s check the garage.”
“The garage?” Charlie asked.
“Yep.”
They went back down the stairs and let Vi know they were going to look in the garage briefly before heading out. Allie opened the door to the cleanest garage she had ever seen. There weren’t even oil spots on the cement floor. Bikes were hung on hooks from the ceiling, and other sporting equipment was organized in hanging bins on the wall. They were or had been an active couple. In the corner, Allie had spotted what she had expected to find. Several banker’s boxes filled with miscellaneous items: some out-of-season clothes, trophies from glory days gone by, a few photo albums, and framed commendations with Harriet’s name on them. “Looks like maybe Vi packed up Harriet’s things at one point. Or she did it herself. And then one or both of them had a change of heart.”
