Grave Deceit

by John J. Hunter

  She was going to drag him to hell and make sure he stayed there.

  CHAPTER 2

  The taxi coasted down the highway, coming to a stop near the edge of the road. Alice handed the friendly Mexican driver the fare and climbed out of the back seat.

  The yellow cab zoomed past her, kicking up a cloud of dust. She looked around her at the long stretch of road on either side, slicing through the Mojave Desert, and identified the place of the car crash by a hollow spot in the thick shrubbery. She went down on one knee and examined the gray asphalt. Her eyes traced the path the car must have taken as it barreled into the bushes.

  A light breeze ruffled the loose tendrils of hair framing her pale, thin face as she stared in the distance. She touched the road; it burnt hot from the rays of the sun blazing overhead. A satisfying sensation coursed through her as she rose to her feet. She took her smartphone out of her pocket and began taking pictures.

  She turned the camera to the spot in the bushes where she had found the burning car. As she watched the spot through her phone, a memory swam before her eyes.

  Her mother sat at a gracefully set dinner table wearing one of her best dresses. Time and again she would touch the string of pearls around her neck. Now and then, she would tip her head back, part her red painted lips to reveal a gummy smile, and let out a melodious laugh.

  The dinner table was decked with exotic flowers, fine china, and slender tall candles. Alice sat in one corner taking small bites of the gourmet meal her mother had prepared for the guests.

  Exquisitely dressed men and women sat around the table exchanging compliments and smiling politely at each other. A tall African American man raised his wine glass. “Congratulations on your promotion Rita,” he said, locking eyes with her. “And congratulations on your new car.”

  Her mother blushed. “Thank you, Marcus.”

  Her stepfather wrapped a muscular arm around her mother’s slender shoulder. “Let’s hope she doesn’t wreck this one. She’s a hopeless driver!” he said, letting out a bark of laughter.

  The dining hall rang with laughter. Her mother flushed a deep shade of red. Alice sneaked a glance at the African American man who had made the toast. His eyes set on Rita; his expression a mixture of sadness and pity.

  She lowered the cellphone and stared at the flattened shrubs and bushes. Could it be that he was really gone this time? Her eyebrows puckered and she scowled at the gaping hollow in the greenery. Why couldn't she shake the feeling that she was being played? Was it all inside her head? Was she chasing a ghost?

  Her phone rang, breaking her train of thought. She swiped her thumb across the screen and placed it over her ear, waiting for Adrian to speak.

  "Where are you?" he asked as soon as the phone touched her ear. "We've been worried sick about you! I asked Tyler and he said he had no idea where you'd gone!" he continued, without waiting for her to answer.

  "I'm out on the highway," she replied. "I wanted to look at the crime scene one more time."

  "And you didn't think it would be a good idea to mention that to someone? Send someone a text message or something so we don't end up filing a missing person’s report."

  "I was in a hurry," she said. "I'm sorry." She knew Adrian meant well and was genuinely concerned about her safety.

  He took a deep breath. "Just weeks ago a twisted serial killer was prowling through this part of town preying on men and women he deemed as sinners."

  "And we caught him, remember?"

  "Yes, but that is not the point! Who knows how many more psychopaths are living here."

  "Let's refrain from stereotyping,"

  He let out a sigh. "Can you just get back? I wanted to go to the junkyard to have a look at the car, or whatever remains of it."

  "And you couldn't go with Tyler?" she asked.

  "I don't know where he is either. I called him earlier to ask about you, he said he didn't know and hung up," he replied. "Listen, I am not going there alone and I really want to have a look at that car."

  Alice understood his reluctance to venture out alone. It had only been a few weeks since the serial killer he just mentioned had placed a knife to his neck in an attempt to keep him hostage and help him in his escape. The incident must have left him rattled.

  "Fine, I'll be there in an hour." She hung up. A gust of wind rippled the trees and bushes stretching before her. She squinted at the road. In her mind, she imagined the car hurtling toward her at full speed. It swerved to the left, narrowly missing smashing straight into her, and landed in the bushes.

  Her eyes stayed fixed on the asphalt. The absence of skid marks on the road suggested something was amiss. She turned to her phone to call an Uber to pick her up.

  ***

  Stacks of old cars towered all around them as they walked into the junkyard. Rows upon rows of twisted metal stretched as far as the eye could see. The junkyard keeper was a pot-bellied man with a wild gray mane jutting out from under his cap. A thick, black and white stubble covered his jaw and double chin. He wore a dirty wife-beater under a checkered shirt with the button undone.

  His belly jiggled as he walked alongside them to take them to Chris Murphy's car.

  He stopped in front of an automobile carcass. "Here it is," he grunted.

  Alice stared at the metal framework of the car that had survived the fire. The flames had gobbled up almost everything. The junkyard keeper turned and waddled away, leaving them alone to examine the burnt automobile.

  Alice slowly walked around the car, her eyes set on the ruined automotive. She kneeled near the trunk and peered inside.

  "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" asked Adrian. He stood behind her with his hands in his pocket.

  Alice turned to look at him. "The gas cylinder is still intact."

  He nodded slowly. "It should have blown up and turned to smithereens if the fire erupted organically." He walked the length of the car and kneeled near the trunk, peering at the ash and layer of soot that covered the metal.

  He took out a small test tube from his pocket and a scalpel and began scraping the ash from the metal, collecting it inside the tube.

  "What are you doing?"

  "A chemical analysis should show the cause of the fire," he replied as he stood up and corked the tube. "Let's suppose arson was involved. The chemical composition of the ash will give us an idea of the liquid used to start the fire."

  Alice bit her lower lip as she studied him. "So you think it wasn't an accident?"

  He shrugged his shoulders. "All I can say is that Chris Murray looks like one shady character. He had been running from the arm of the law for a long time. It sounds highly convenient that he supposedly got killed in a car accident just days before he was scheduled to start a long and arduous prison sentence."

  He placed the tube in his pocket and turned toward her with his hands on his hips. "And also, like I said on the phone, this town seems to have a lot of creeps."

  A small smile appeared on Alice's lips. She was glad that there was someone who shared her doubts about the accident.

  They found Tyler waiting for them in the motel parking lot. He strolled toward them as they jumped out of their Uber.

  "Are we going to entertain ourselves by playing hide and seek now?" he asked, archly.

  "We decided to keep a few secrets of our own since you weren't sharing yours," Adrian replied with a lopsided grin.

  "Alright, I'll come clean," he said, holding up his hands. "I went to check Murray's house again."

  "Did we miss something the first time?" asked Alice.

  "Yes," he replied as he reached into his pocket and took out a stack of papers. He handed them to Alice.

  She had a quick look at the papers and gave Tyler a puzzled look. "Bills?"

  "Yes. Looks like Chris hadn't been paying his utility bills for a long time now."

  Alice scrutinized the bills in her hand.

  "Not only that," Tyler continued. "I did a little digging and found that our guy was knee-deep in deb
t."

  "Any idea what he did for a living?" asked Adrian.

  Tyler's forehead creased. "It's hard to say, the records show he owned a company named Murray Life Services. What exactly he did there or what the company was for is unclear. He filed for bankruptcy a few years ago."

  Alice and Adrian exchanged confused looks. Chris Murray's life seemed like a big, complicated jigsaw puzzle.

  "Oh, there's something more." He shoved a hand in his pocket and took out his smartphone. After jabbing the screen with his thumb, he flipped it to show them a photograph of a bald middle-aged man. "Turns out, Chris had bought life insurance worth a million dollars. Just before he died, he named Harrold Brown, his childhood friend, as the sole beneficiary."

  Alice took the phone from Tyler and stared at the photograph. Harrold Brown had a shiny bald head, smiling eyes, and a bushy brown mustache. His green eyes shone as he looked at the camera and his face crinkled around the eyes and mouth.

  "Any way we could get in touch with him?" Alice asked.

  "I have an address. He lives in Malibu," Tyler answered.

  Alice gazed at the photograph on the screen. His clever green eyes and slight smile made it seem as if he was thinking about a very amusing joke.

  "Let's pay him a visit, shall we?" she said, returning the phone to Tyler.

  "Let me ask Naomi if she wants to come with us," said Adrian. Alice leaned against the Camry as Adrian sprinted across the parking lot toward the motel.

  Tyler studied her, warily. "So where did you and Adrian go?"

  She shrugged. "Just looking at the crime scene and the car at the junkyard," she answered, briskly.

  Tyler looked taken aback. After his lengthy speech detailing every little thing that he had learned, he did not expect such a curt response.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "Did I do something to offend you?"

  She gave him a bewildered look.

  "Because lately I've been getting this feeling that something about me is really pissing you off."

  "Oh." His frank honesty threw her off. "Oh," she said, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes flitting all over the place in an effort to avoid eye contact with him. "I'm just caught up in the investigation. I didn't notice I was coming off as rude. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

  He eyed her, suspiciously. "Are you sure that's all?"

  "Yeah," she said, meeting his gaze and giving him a confident smile. "That's all."

  "Great," he said. "So is there anything about the investigation that you'd like to share with me? Because we're all in this together, let's not forget that."

  A door opened and closed in the loggia above. Adrian emerged from the motel room with Naomi in tow.

  "I'll keep you updated as soon as we have concrete evidence," said Alice, smiling widely like an air hostess. The fake smile made her facial muscles twitch.

  Naomi and Adrian's arrival rescued her from the agonizing conversation. They all piled into the car and set off to meet Harrold Brown in Malibu.

  Desert plains were soon replaced with white sand beaches and tall palm trees outside their window. Naomi had gotten a lot chirpier ever since they left Needles behind. She made Tyler turn on the music and sat singing along to the lyrics. Alice was miles away in the passenger seat next to Tyler.

  Lately, she had been having a hard time connecting with the others, especially Tyler. Discovering the necklace and the watch threw her off balance. Moreover, the possibility that her stepfather was alive kept her feeling on edge all day.

  She glanced at Tyler. His face showed no recollection of their earlier squabble. She scowled and looked away, feeling mad at herself for pushing him away.

  They cruised around posh neighborhoods with neatly trimmed front yards, expensive cars, and sprawling houses. Wide, tree-lined avenues gave way to narrower roads with bleak scenery. Majestic villas were replaced with modest dwellings.

  They coasted past cookie-cutter houses with gray ridged roofs, white walls, and dismal front lawns. Tyler stopped the car in front of a house whose owner was busy hosing the yellow patches of grass in the yard.

  Harrold Brown had their back toward them. Alice recognized him the second he turned around at the sound of the car engine coming to a halt. He watched them with curiosity as they stepped out of the vehicle. A smile rippled over his face and his eyes twinkled as he saw them walking toward him.

  He turned off the water hose, tossing it aside, and extended a hand toward Tyler. "Good day," he said, giving his hand a firm shake. "I'm afraid I've never seen you folks around this neighborhood before."

  Tyler let go of his hand and reached in his pocket to take out his FBI badge. A bemused smile played on his lips as he flicked it open to show Harrold the gold shield.

  Harrold's smile grew wider. "And how may I be of service?"

  "We just need you to answer a few questions," Tyler answered, putting away his badge. "If that's alright with you."

  "Of course it is! Come on in," he said, gesturing at them to come inside.

  They trooped inside the house. Harrold led them to a comfortable-looking living room with a plush white couch and a fireplace. The walls and mantle were covered with picture frames documenting Harrold's globetrotting adventures.

  Alice stopped to stare at the frames on the wall, leaning close to look at the people smiling at the camera.

  "Egypt, 1987." Harrold's voice came from behind. She spun around and found him standing behind her with his characteristic warm smile.

  "You seem to travel a lot," she said. The others had settled on the couch.

  "It's what I love the most," he said with a shrug. "Coffee or tea?" he asked, turning toward the others.

  "There's really no need," Tyler said, quickly. "We only need a few minutes of your time."

  "Oh, nonsense!" he said, with a wave of his hand. "I can't let anyone leave my house without a cup of my favorite Ethiopian coffee. It'll take only a short while to make, don't worry."

  With that, he hobbled into the kitchen. Alice noticed that he walked with a slight limp. She looked at the others who were just as confused by their suspect's over-the-top, warm welcome.

  He emerged from the kitchen moments later, carrying a tray with five steaming cups of coffee. He offered a cup to each one of them, then settled in a tan-colored recliner with his cup in hand.

  Alice stared at the dark hot liquid in her cup with suspicion. She looked up and saw Naomi gulping it down. She finished her coffee and gave Harrold a grateful smile. “That was the best coffee I’ve ever had.”

  Harrold looked pleased with her compliment.

  Tyler shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the exchange of pleasantries between Naomi and their suspect. “We wanted to ask you a few questions about your friend Chris Murray. I am sure you are aware of his passing.”

  His cheerful smile vanished and his eyes opened wide with shock. “No,” he gasped. “Chris is gone? How? When?” He put away his coffee mug on the table and bent over looking distraught.

  “You didn’t hear anything about his car accident?” said Tyler, looking confused.

  “No,” he choked. He sat with his head hung low. It took several moments for him to recover and look up at them. “My apologies,” he said. “Chris was a close friend. I really cared for him.”

  Standing in the far corner, Alice’s grip tightened around the mug as she glared at him. Her jaw clenched and she felt overcome with a strong urge to hurl the steaming coffee mug at him.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” said Tyler.

  He waved away his condolence and looked at him mournfully. “How can I help you?”

  “Could you tell us how the two of you came to know each other?”

  Adrian fished in his pocket for his phone as Harrold thought about his answer. He placed his phone on the table before him, recording the conversation.

  “I knew him for a long time. I don’t remember our first meeting. I believe it was sometime in the ’90s. We we
re introduced to each other at a New Year’s Eve party by our then girlfriends. We were both fond of traveling and got along well. I guess you could say that was when we became friends.”

  “And could you tell us about his business venture: Murray Life Services?”

  “I am afraid I do not know about that,” Harrold answered. “Chris and I mostly talked about our travels. We never discussed business or work.”

  “One last question,” said Tyler. “Have you been contacted by Chris’s life insurance company? The records show that he named you as the sole beneficiary a few weeks before his death.”

  Harrold hesitated a moment. Alice wondered whether the question had taken him by surprise. Perhaps he did not expect them to be so thorough in their research. “Ah, yes. Chris had very few friends and no living family members, at least that I knew of,” he replied. “We shared a close bond so it’s understandable why he would make such a choice.”

  “So you haven’t heard anything from the insurance company until now?” pressed Tyler.

  “I had been out of town all week. I haven’t checked my mail and I am terrible with computers,” he said with a big smile plastered on his face.

  Alice could feel anger boiling inside her. She despised everything about the old man sitting in the recliner: the ingenuine look in his eyes, his mocking smile, and his pretentious manner of speaking. He reminded her so much of her stepfather that she wanted to lunge at him and knock him out.

  Tyler concluded the interrogation and extended a hand toward Harrold, thanking him for his time. They got up to leave. Naomi stopped in the hallway, as they made their way to the door, to look at the photographs on the wall.

  “You’ve been to some fascinating places,” she said, pointing at a picture of him standing in front of the Great Pyramid.

  “Yes, but I’ve never seen someone as fascinating as you,” he said with a coquettish grin.

  Naomi blushed. Adrian noticed the flirtatious exchange between the two and put his arm over her shoulder, defensively.