“Wow,” Jonelle said. Not only was it a mystery how Susanna ended up on the street, now it seemed as if the woman had embezzled a lot of money. “How’d that happen?”
“Based on the audit, the scheme was simple in its plan. And it worked because we trusted her. Never would I imagine she’d be the one to steal from the town. Sophia maybe. But not Susanna.” He looked wistful.
Finkleberg explained how the scheme worked. “Susanna wrote personal checks from the government account which collected from transactions such as property taxes and fees from parking tickets to dog licenses. Apparently she established separate accounts at two local banks, converted the money into cashier’s checks and deposited them into the accounts.”
According to the commissioner’s investigation, Susanna made false entries in the county’s accounting records to make it look like legitimate expenses.
“Once we found out what was going on, we went back and discovered things that should have tipped us off but didn’t. Like all the overtime Rosemary worked, when none was needed. We found out later from the other secretary that customers would complain they weren’t being credited the correct amount on their taxes.”
“Why didn’t she tell anyone?”
“She said Rosemary told her people were always complaining, and being the newest secretary in the office, she didn’t press the point. Guess she should have.” He peered at Jonelle. “We’ve been told no money was found on Susanna’s body. I’m going down to coordinate with the local police. It’s vital the town get all its money back.”
While Jonelle appreciated his concern over the town’s funds, she found it curious that he wasn’t interested in who might have killed Susanna, or why.
“Does anyone know what happened to Rosemary?”
Finkleberg nodded. “That’s about the only good result in this whole mess, though I guess ‘good’ would depend on your point of view.” He smiled at the perplexed look on Jonelle’s face. “Rosemary Wilkins was caught at the Canadian border and now sits in prison.”
“She have any of the money?”
“When Wilkins was apprehended, she had $20,000 in her possession. In exchange for a guilty plea and a reduced sentence, she confessed that Susanna was supposed to ship an additional $30,000 in cash sent to a delivery box number. Can you imagine that amount of money delivered by UPS? What a dimwit. She blames everything on Susanna and is pissed she got screwed.”
By all accounts that left over $330,000 that Susanna had managed to escape with undetected. The question now was, where was the missing money? Susanna couldn’t stroll into a bank with that much money if she had no permanent address. Luther told Jonelle he knew Susanna had a lot of money and she needed his help hiding it. Luther also said he never actually saw any money. When she returned to Maryland she had to find Luther and make him tell her everything.
Jonelle stood and paced around the office. “Helps me think,” she said as his eyes followed her around the room. “Did Rosemary give the police any indication where Susanna went or what happened to the rest of the money?”
He shook his head. “Rosemary said that after they split up, Susanna told her she was getting as far away as she could.” He frowned. “Wait a minute. Rosemary did say something a little peculiar. I discounted it at the time, but now, I’m not so sure.”
Jonelle stopped pacing. She fingered her necklace and waited for Finkleberg to finish.
“She said Susanna told her she knew someone down south who could not only help hide her, but also help her hide the money.”
“Rosemary said that?”
He nodded.
“Who was this someone down south? Did Rosemary have a name for this person?”
“No and we believed her. Rosemary is not the sharpest thorn on the bush.” Finkleberg’s voice rose. “Why Susanna bothered with her is a mystery to me.” He softened his tone. “Once Rosemary was caught, she told us everything she knew. Her mother said Rosemary told her to expect a package but didn’t say what was in it.”
“Was she telling the truth?”
Finkleberg nodded. “Rosemary’s mother was very upset when she found out what happened. She agreed to inform us if she received a package and she never did.”
“The whole thing sounds farfetched. But it is kinda clever. All that money hiding in plain view somewhere on a shelf just waiting for the owner to go get it.” Jonelle raised her eyebrows. “You guys did check, right?”
“We had no choice. Checked every friggin’ delivery store on the UP. Nothing.”
The two of them sat quietly, each absorbed in their own thoughts.
“What about your relationship to Susanna?”
Finkleberg squirmed in his chair. “What do you mean by ‘relationship’?”
“I mean, how did the two of you get along?” She paused.
“We got along fine.”
Jonelle studied the man before her. She watched his body stiffen and waited for him to continue.
“We had a good working relationship.”
When he didn’t provide more information, she moved on. Even though he seemed convinced Rosemary had told the police everything, Jonelle wasn’t so sure.
“Would it be possible for me to ask Rosemary a few questions? Is she incarcerated nearby?”
Finkleberg regarded Jonelle through narrowed eyes. “We only have one prison in the state that houses women. She’s a Level I prisoner at the Women’s Huron Valley Correctional Facility located in Ypsilanti.”
“Where’s that?”
“It’s about thirty-six miles west of Detroit, just outside of Ann Arbor. But you’d be wasting your time. Rosemary was really contrite when she was caught and the police chief told us she couldn’t wait to tell all she knew.”
Yet, the woman headed for the border, Jonelle thought. After doing a quick calculation of how much extra time she would need to visit Rosemary in person, she tried a different tack. “If I understand the way the prison system works in most areas, those in minimum security must have a few extra privileges, am I right?”
After a slight hesitation, he nodded.
“So, do you think I could call her? I’d identify myself and tell her I’m helping Sophia find out more about Susanna. Rosemary may not know that Susanna was murdered.”
“She probably doesn’t.” He leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. “Tell you what,” he said, looking back over at Jonelle. “I know her lawyer. I’ll give him a call, have him contact you at the Lakeside B and B. If he agrees, the two of you can work out the logistics.”
“Fair enough,” Jonelle said. “Can I talk to the person who replaced Susanna? I’d like to find out what, if anything, she can add to what I already know.”
Finkleberg was shaking his head even before Jonelle stopped speaking. “No. He doesn’t know any more than what I’ve already told you. He didn’t live in this county at the time, so he doesn’t even know Susanna.”
“Okay,” Jonelle said. Something else nagged at her. “What about the ex-husband? Is it possible he might shed some light on the missing money?” And, Jonelle thought, the man now lived “down south,” another reason for Susanna to head there.
Finkleburg’s high-pitched laugh resounded through his office. She waited for him to finish.
“Sorry about that,” he said. He wiped his eyes with his pocket handkerchief. “Guess you don’t know the full history of Barry and Susanna. To say it was a volatile marriage is putting it lightly. In hindsight, it’s difficult to imagine two people who should not have gotten married when they did, least of all to each other.”
Jonelle nodded. “I’ve heard rumors that he was abusive. And that the police were called to the home on several occasions. Still, people sometimes resolve their differences after some time has elapsed.”
He swiveled back and forth in his chair, a bemused look on his face. “Rumors, huh. I’ll bet. Well, let me set the record straight on a few things.”
From the sly look on his face, Jonelle could tel
l he was enjoying himself.
“First off,” he said, “Barry never physically hurt her. Most of his ‘abuse’ involved the venom that came out of his mouth. Susanna was the one who used her fists and threw things. Poor guy ended up black and blue on several occasions.”
Jonelle’s eyes widened. “You mean she hurt him?”
“Sometimes,” Finkleberg said, eyes lighting up with mischief. “Or you could say she was just defending herself, which is an excuse I hear from some people around here. Others say she started more than half of their battles.”
“I’ll be damn,” Jonelle said. “Speaking of the ex, do you have any idea where he lives?”
“Sure,” Finkleberg said. “We still send each other Christmas cards. I have his address at home.”
CHAPTER 14
On the way back to the B and B Jonelle decided to eat lunch at a different restaurant. She’d ask a few more questions about Susanna and Sophia to see what new information she could uncover about the two women.
A few minutes later she came upon two restaurants, one on either side of the main road. Owing to the town’s prominence as a tourist destination, Oldenberry had more than its share of eating places. Since she didn’t feel like making a left turn, Jonelle pulled into the gravel lot of the “Contented Moose” restaurant on the right. Like the other eateries she’d seen, this one also advertised bear burgers. Jonelle burped as she thought about the earlier meal. Decision made, this time she’d order a large salad.
Jonelle entered an outdoorsman’s dream. Animal heads and fish bodies adorned the wooden walls. “Pity I don’t know any hunters or fishermen,” she mumbled looking around the half-filled restaurant. A small woman in jeans and red flannel shirt approached the podium set up near the door.
“Sit anywhere, Miss. Know what you want or would you like to see a menu?” she asked.
“Well, I’ve never been here before, so I’d like a menu please.” Jonelle ambled over to a table for four against the wall.
The waitress trailed behind. “Okay,” she said with a shrug once Jonelle sat in the chair next to the wall. “I only ask ’cause we ain’t got much variety around here now that the tourists haven’t really come in yet. Next week we open our menu up, so to speak.”
Jonelle ordered a chef salad, thousand island dressing on the side and while she waited for her food to arrive, checked out the few diners in the place. Most of them reminded her of the Wickham’s but, to her great relief, without dressing alike. Her eyes settled on a dark-haired woman sitting four tables away. The woman stared at Jonelle with frank interest. Jonelle stared back, determined to see which one would stop looking first. It was a silly game she and Adrienne used to play when they caught people staring. Usually, the others stopped looking first. Not this woman. She matched Jonelle’s stare.
The waitress, whose nametag said “Jenny”, returned with Jonelle’s salad and coffee, which meant Jonelle broke eye contact first. Jonelle thought she saw a faint smile on the dark-haired woman’s lips.
“I’ll leave you the carafe, in case you want more coffee,” the waitress said.
“Who’s that lady over there?” Jonelle asked, nodding to the woman who had returned to eating her meal.
“That’s Ayasha,” Jenny said, without looking. “She’s a regular here. She’s really harmless, but if her staring makes you nervous, I can put your food on the other side of the table.”
“She do that a lot?”
The waitress nodded. “She can spot a tourist a mile away. It’s some kinda game she plays. People around here just ignore her.”
Jonelle studied the woman a bit longer. “Native American?”
“Yep. She’s full-blooded Chippewa. Her family runs the river boat casino down the road. You musta passed it on your way here.” The waitress turned to leave.
“Hold it a sec. Ask her if she’d like to come over here and join me.”
Jenny frowned. “You sure about that? Nobody’s ever asked before.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Some people say her elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top. If you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I get it. Actually, I find her interesting.”
“Suit yourself,” Jenny said with a shrug.
Jonelle’s eyes tracked the waitress’s progress as she walked up to Ayasha. Although she couldn’t hear what was said, the waitress turned and pointed to Jonelle. Ayasha gathered her things with Jenny’s help and ambled over to Jonelle’s table.
From a distance Jonelle couldn’t tell the woman’s age. This close, Ayasha appeared about her own age. Thick black hair hung mid-way down her back and glowed to a high sheen. A generous smile displayed large white teeth.
“Glad you could join me,” Jonelle said. “The waitress said your name, but I wasn’t sure I heard right. Is it eye-e-sha?”
“Nope. It’s ah-yah-sha. Means ‘little one’ in my native language. Not so little now though, huh?” Again she flashed that dazzling smile. “I really should be eating what you’re eating,” she said pointing to Jonelle’s salad. “But these burgers are really great. Would you like to share some of my fries?”
Jonelle shook her head. “I’m doing penance for sampling the local fare when I first arrived yesterday.”
The two women munched in silence. Jonelle felt a little like the person who chases after something, and when caught, doesn’t have the faintest idea what to do with it. She cleared her throat. “Um, I suppose you’ve already figured out I’m new here.”
Ayasha nodded. “I heard you’ve been asking a lot of questions about the Quinley twins. Or, as some in my circle call them, ‘tweedle-dum’ and ‘tweedle-dee.’ Those are the cleanest names I can give you right now.”
So far, Ayasha seemed okay. Only one way to find out for sure.
“You might also know that I’m here to discover as much as I can about Susanna’s background,” Jonelle said. She added quickly, “And whatever you can tell me about Sophia. I understand the girls were close when they were children, but drifted apart in their teens.”
Ayasha crammed several fries in her mouth. Jonelle munched salad and topped off her coffee while waiting for her guest to finish chewing. “Well,” Ayasha said, using her hand to cover a soft burp. “’Scuse me. Never knew anything about them really until middle school. Had a few classes with both of ’em but they stayed pretty much to themselves and only hung out with their white friends. Neither one of them socialized with us ‘Injuns’”.
“What about in high school? Did you know them better?”
“Sophia a little bit more than Susanna. They pretty much hung around with their separate cliques. I do know they continued to get into trouble, though it was typical stuff by then.” Before Jonelle could ask, Ayasha added, “Stuff like getting busted for shoplifting, drinking alcohol in cars with their friends. Some drugs. Like that.” She gave Jonelle a knowing look.
“Can you give me more specifics?” This was getting interesting.
Ayasha gave a short laugh. “Once, they got busted trying to sell nickel bags of marijuana on the south side of town. They operated on different streets, but hell, look around at how small this place is. Imagine it. Two blond lookalikes selling drugs. Might as well hold up a sign for crissakes.” She snickered.
The image that flashed in Jonelle’s mind made her smile. “I thought Susanna was the ‘good’ one. She sold drugs, too?”
Ayasha rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Neither one was what you’d call ‘good.’”
“What else can you tell me?”
Ayasha looked off in the distance. “The first couple years, some brainiac in the school system thought it would be cute to have the girls take all the same classes. They found out pretty quick that was a very bad idea.”
“Why?”
Ayasha looked smug. “They would sit together and talk all during class. They’d laugh and giggle with each other; totally not pay attention. Little things started happening to the teachers. Papers would go missing; things on the desks moved around
. One teacher found all her school supplies super glued together. Finally the school decided to separate them. Their daddy went to the school board, but this time other parents complained and he couldn’t do anything about it. Quinley argued nobody could prove the vandalism was the twin’s fault. But everybody knew it was them.”
A clear picture of the two formed in Jonelle’s mind. “I heard about what they did to a little boy. Took his clothes and harassed him. Did they do stuff like that when they got older?”
Ayasha tucked thick hair behind her ear and leaned in closer. “There were a few incidents that spread from my part of town.”
Jonelle glanced around and noticed the two were now the center of attention. “Are you finished with your meal?” she asked.
“Sure. You in a hurry?”
Instead of answering right away, Jonelle caught the waitress’ eye and made the sign for the check. “No, but I think you and I can talk better someplace more private.” Jonelle paid for her meal and offered to pay for Ayasha’s. “I already paid. But thanks.” As the two left the restaurant, Jonelle felt eyes boring into her back. She hesitated, contemplating whether or not she wanted to resume their conversation in her room at the B and B. Ayasha settled the issue.
“There’s a really cute park nearby where we can sit and look over at the waterfall. I need to take my car ’cause I may have to leave in a hurry to get to work on time. Where’s your car?”
“Over there,” Jonelle said, indicating the Ford Escape.
“Mine’s the dusty blue Explorer at the end. I’ll wait ’til you pull up behind me.”
Jonelle settled the SUV behind the Explorer and used the time alone to try and unravel all the information she’d been told so far. It seems everyone in town had their opinions about the twins, but she hadn’t come close to figuring out how Susanna ended up with Luther. Even accounting for the fact that Susanna’s ex went to school at Hopkins and was still living somewhere in the area, it still didn’t explain how a woman with more than a quarter of a million dollars ended up on the street. And where was the money?
The Trickster (A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 3) Page 10
