Harriet sipped her chocolate.
“So, does that mean we can’t access the call records?”
“No, it doesn’t mean that. Records can be gotten as to what number the phone called, but without knowing who owns the phone, it’s not very useful.” Lauren pulled a paper from her bag. “It turns out this burner received a number of calls from Michelle on the day in question. More interesting is the pattern of this phone calling Aiden. If this was purchased by Michelle as a second phone, and was used by Lainie part of the time, then this call pattern is completely innocent.”
“What if the burner was Marine’s?” Mavis asked.
Lauren looked down at her paper.
“Then we have to wonder why Marine was calling Aiden so often before she died.”
“He swears he didn’t call her and she didn’t call him,” Harriet said.
Robin got out her yellow legal tablet.
“I checked with my friend in legal aid. First, they’ve been happy with Michelle’s work for them. Not germane to the issue at hand, but points for Michelle. Anyway, Luc Moreau is not one of their clients and further checking does not show him having any open legal cases in any of the local courts. He could have contacted her, or Marine may have asked her to help him. She may have been doing something for him off the books, but there’s no way of knowing that.”
Connie stirred a packet of sugar into her cup.
“So, that means Michelle had no reason to be talking to Marine’s dad.”
“That we know of,” Robin corrected.
“I heard back from the nanny,” Connie said. “She told me she needed her job and did not want to do anything to offend Michelle. From her tone, I gathered there were things she could say if she wasn’t worried about her employment.”
“Michelle was sort of mean to the tutor and the nanny,” Carla said in quiet voice. “I think they stayed because they felt sorry for Lainie and Etienne.”
Detective Morse came into the coffee shop.
“Wow, the gang’s all here,” she said. She went to the counter, ordered her coffee, and came to the table to sit while she waited for it. “I got your message about the phone. It’s a burner, but I’m guessing…” She looked pointedly at Lauren. “…you already know that.”
Lauren shrugged but kept her mouth shut.
“The detectives working on Marine’s murder aren’t interested in pursuing other possible suspects because they have an ironclad case against Aiden. Unless you can find clear, overwhelming evidence that someone else planted his hair and saliva on Marine’s body, they don’t care. If you had unimpeachable evidence he was somewhere else at the critical time that might do it. I’m not trying to be mean or to upset you, but you need to be prepared. If nothing changes, Aiden will be tried and very likely will be found guilty.”
Harriet sucked in her breath. Connie put her hands over her face.
“Diós mio,” she whispered.
“Anyone could have planted the hair,” Harriet said. “People shed hair lots of places. We need to figure out how they got his saliva.”
“Has he been to the dentist lately?” Mavis asked.
Carla looked up from her tea.
“He just got a reminder in the mail for his six-month checkup. Maybe a week ago. He hasn’t gone for that yet, so probably not.”
“The likely suspects are the least likely to have access to his spit,” Aunt Beth said.
Detective Morse stood up.
“I’ve got to get back to the station. I’m sorry I didn’t have better news for you. Let me know if you come up with anything I can help with.”
The group watched her leave in silence.
“Do we know if the police searched Michelle’s room when they were at Aiden’s?” Harriet asked.
Carla straightened and leaned in toward the table.
“They didn’t search any of our rooms. They looked in Aiden’s rooms and the library and parlor. They looked in all the public rooms and bathrooms. Michelle had a lawyer there, and they talked a lot about exactly what the warrant said. They said something about sugar bowls. I don’t know why that was important, but they weren’t allowed to search them.”
Robin laughed. “Sorry, it’s not funny, but sugar bowls refers to a legal maxim describing a fourth amendment limit on search and seizure. It’s often stated ‘If you are looking for televisions you can’t look in sugar bowls.’ People searching are limited to the locations where the item they’re searching for might reasonably be.
“I’m sure Michelle’s attorney was trying to make sure they didn’t tear the house up. Sometimes, when people don’t find what they’re looking for, they take their frustrations out on the property they’re searching.”
“Hold on a minute. Which rooms didn’t they search?” Harriet asked Carla.
“My room, Michelle’s room…I don’t think they went up to the third floor at all. Like I said, they spent their time going through Aiden’s bedroom and sitting room. They asked where he kept his veterinary drugs, and I told them he didn’t bring them in the house because of Wendy. He kept that stuff in the dog kennel building behind the house. I think they looked out there, but he usually keeps his doctor bag in his car.”
Mavis set her mug down.
“What are you thinking?”
“I was thinking we have to consider all the possibilities. Marine’s family doesn’t have access to Aiden’s saliva—that we know of. If anyone does, it’s most likely to be the people who live with him. I’m not sure how, yet, but maybe Michelle or someone else in the house.” She turned to Carla again. “Not you, Carla, but there were a lot of people staying there, what with the nanny, the tutor and Marine herself. Maybe one of them put something in his drink that caused him to spit it back into his cup or something. I don’t know how that sort of thing works. Maybe his saliva was mixed with that liquid, but all the police look for is spit.”
“That may be,” Aunt Beth said, “But how does that help us? Do you think the person would keep the evidence lying around for someone to find?”
Harriet tore her napkin into shreds.
“I don’t know. Checking out the rooms the police didn’t search would give us something to do besides sitting around watching Aiden grow old in jail.”
“Michelle’s bedroom is the only one in the house that’s locked all the time,” Carla told them.
“What?” Harriet and Mavis said at the same time.
Carla cheeks turned pink. “She’s really paranoid about it. I’m not allowed to clean it or anything. Even the kids are only allowed in her sitting room. She puts her sheets out in the hall.”
“Do you know where the key is?” Harriet asked.
Carla’s face turned from pink to red.
“I know where she hid a spare. She didn’t know I was home when she hid it. It’s under the rug in her sitting room. I was behind the sofa on my hands and knees polishing the wood floor edges, and she came in and hid it. She never knew I was there.”
“Are you sure it’s her room key?” Mavis asked.
“I know I shouldn’t have, but I was curious,” Carla stammered. “When she was gone, I took the key and tried it. I swear, I didn’t go in, I just checked to see if it worked.”
Beth looked at her and smiled.
“You did fine, honey. It’s all very weird if you ask me. Locking her room. Hiding a spare key.” She shuddered. “I suppose you want to go look in her room,” she said to Harriet.
“I think we have to.”
Robin slid her pad and pen back into her bag.
“I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, but I can’t be there. Let me know if you find anything. And don’t touch anything.”
“Do we know when Michelle will be out of the house for sure?” Mavis asked.
“The only place she goes on a schedule is legal aid,” Carla said.
Harriet drained the remains of her cocoa, and Beth gathered up her purse.
“I’ll swing by Jorge’s and pick up more plastic gloves.”<
br />
Mavis shrugged into her jacket.
“I’ll be part of the distraction team if it becomes necessary. Carla and I can be stitching on our quilt blocks downstairs after she lets us in. Beth, you can search with Harriet and Lauren.”
“I’ll call Jessica,” Lauren said. “She can sit in her car outside legal aid. No one in town knows her, and her rental car is average looking.”
“Is all this cloak-and-dagger necessary?” DeAnn asked, speaking for the first time.
Harriet looked down the table to where she was sitting.
“It probably isn’t. We likely won’t find anything, Michelle will be at legal aid, none the wiser, but we will feel a tiny bit better for having done something…anything.”
“Fair enough,” DeAnn said. She stood up. “I have to go get the kids ready for church.”
Harriet’s shoulders drooped.
“Are we being silly?” she asked her aunt.
Beth patted her back.
“What you told DeAnn is correct. We need to do something besides sit here. Come on. I don’t want Michelle to be tied up in this anymore than you do, but we need to find out.”
“Does Michelle work on Sunday, though?” Mavis asked Carla.
Carla smirked. “Yeah, and she hates it. They make her come in and research cases. She said they make her come in Sunday afternoons because she went to school with the guy who does the schedule, and he doesn’t like her because she turned him down for prom when she didn’t even have another date.”
“When does she leave?” Harriet asked.
Unless she has something else to do along the way, she leaves at one-forty-five,” Carla reported. “She’s usually late for everything she does, but she has to be on time there because they keep records and report it to the court. She can’t mess up if she wants her license back.”
Mavis put her purse over her arm.
“Shall we gather at Aiden’s at two?”
Harriet finally stood and put her coat on.
“That works for me. You know, if Michelle turns out to be involved in this, Aiden is going to be crushed. He’s had such a hard time dealing with all her shenanigans trying to keep us apart this last year. They were finally repairing their relationship.”
Aunt Beth picked up their mugs and carried them to the bussing station then returned.
“You’ll to be there for Aiden, no matter what happens. We’re going to figure out who killed Marine and get him out of jail. Then we can all support him as he recovers. He listens to Jorge. He’ll talk to him, too.”
The group trickled out to the parking lot. Lauren stopped by Harriet’s car.
“Do you care if Jessica and I come over and stitch for an hour or two before we go to Aiden’s? It’ll give us a chance to mull over the possibilities.”
Harriet opened her car door.
“Sure. I’ll make us something for lunch.”
Lauren and Jessica arrived as Harriet was putting the finishing touches on chicken Caesar salads. Sharon was making iced tea.
“We’re in here,” Harriet called when she heard them come into her studio. She set the large bowl of salad on the table. “I hope it’s okay we’re eating in the kitchen.”
“Hey, it’s fine,” Lauren told her. “If I don’t have to cook, I’ll sit on the floor with Scooter it that’s what it takes.”
Harriet laughed. “We won’t be that casual.”
“Just suppose,” Jessica said, gesturing with her fork when they were seated around the table, “you find a jar of saliva marked ‘Aiden’ on Michelle’s dresser. How do you get the police to find it? And then how do you get them to believe Michelle used it to set him up?”
Lauren chewed thoughtfully and swallowed.
“I’m reasonably sure the police can get a search warrant based on an anonymous call. Probable cause can be a phone call, if I remember right.”
“Are you a lawyer?” Sharon asked her.
She laughed. “No. Let’s just say some of the computer work I do for my clients involves sensitive situations.”
Jessica was still using her fork as a pointer.
“So, you or Harriet call the police and tell them there’s saliva that could have been used to implicate Aiden. Is that enough?”
“That’s the question,” Harriet said. “Let’s hope we find more than just a jar of saliva.”
Lauren stabbed a piece of chicken but hesitated before putting it in her mouth.
“She’s right—we need a plan.”
Harriet thought about it.
“If, and this is a big if, we do find Aiden’s spit, or drugs from his vet bag, or anything else that convinces us Michelle is guilty, we might be able to use Jules Moreau.”
“Go on,” Lauren encouraged.
“You know how he offered to sell me information about Michelle being in the woods? What if we had him go to Michelle and tell her he saw her go into Aiden’s apartment with Marine, and he saw her come out alone a few minutes later. He could say he knows it was at the critical time.”
Jessica set her fork down.
“Would he lie for you?”
“Not for me,” Harriet told her. “But I think he would for his sister.”
Lauren stabbed another piece of salad.
“Okay, I like this plan better now. We may have a chance.”
Harriet sighed. “This all depends on us finding something in Michelle’s room.”
Jessica started eating again.
“Oh, I think you’ll find something,” she said between bites. “Nobody locks their bedroom all the time in their own home unless they’ve got something to hide. And I’m guessing it’s something big.”
The women finished their lunch and cleaned up the dishes.
“Shall we stitch for an hour and try to calm our nerves?” Harriet asked.
“‘Would it be okay if I ride along with Jessica in the observation car?” Sharon asked. “After all this, I’m not sure I can sit home and wait.”
Jessica smiled. “I’d be happy for the company.”
With that settled, they made their way to the studio to embellish their crazy quilt pieces for the next hour.
Chapter 27
Carla had called Harriet to tell her when Michelle was gone. Lauren and Harriet waited up the road from Aiden’s house until they got the call from Jessica that Michelle was in the legal aid building. Mavis had gone ahead into the house before Michelle left, since she was supposed to be there helping Carla with her crazy quilt block.
“It’s show time,” Lauren said when Carla answered the door. “Jessica and Sharon have eyes on Michelle’s car, and she’s inside her building.”
Aunt Beth handed out pairs of one-size-fits-all plastic food-handling gloves.
“Put these on,” she instructed.
Carla led them to Michelle’s sitting room and went to the corner by the window. She flipped the edge of the rug up. As she had reported, a shiny key lay on the rug pad.
“Let me pick it up, dear,” Beth told her. “We don’t want your fingerprints anywhere they shouldn’t be.” She picked it up with her gloved hand. “Well, let’s see if this fits.” She crossed the room to the bedroom door, slid the key into the lock and turned the knob. The door opened.
Weak light filtered into the room through the sheer lace curtains. Beth looked on the wall beside the door and found the switch. The room was bathed in yellowish light when she pushed the old-fashioned button switch.
Harriet followed her aunt into the room and was quickly joined by Lauren.
“Well, not quite as messy as I’d hoped,” she commented.
Lauren looked around. Michelle’s desk had a small note cube and one pen. Her dresser had a crocheted scarf and a painted glass lamp.
“I didn’t expect the surfaces to be quite so devoid of…everything.”
“Let’s not make any judgments here. And be sure you don’t leave anything out of place,” Beth told them. She began opening dresser drawers one at a time.
The women worked in silence for a few minutes.
“This is curious,” Beth said finally.
Harriet looked up from the desk.
“What?”
Beth pulled a large blue plastic bag from the bottom drawer.
“This looks like an electric blanket. How very curious.”
“What’s the problem?” Lauren asked her.
“First of all, as cold as it still is this time of year, if you had an electric blanket, you would be using it.”
“Maybe she doesn’t like them,” Harriet countered.
“You’re right,” Beth continued. “But if she didn’t like them, this house is so big and has so many closets, you’d put an unneeded blanket in a linen closet. Her dresser is crowded with clothes. This…” She pointed at the bag she was holding up. “…is out of place.”
Harriet stood silently for a moment.
“If Michelle killed Marine before we saw her driving around looking for her, she could have kept her body warm with that blanket. After she saw us, she could have gone back and taken the blanket off the body.”
Lauren turned away from the nightstand she was examining.
“I wonder if she was tracking Aiden.”
“Wouldn’t she have to have help?” Beth asked.
“Not really,” Lauren told her. “All she’d have to do is tape a cell phone to his bumper and use the track-my-phone function on her own phone. When he was a couple of miles away, she could take the blanket off, go back to her car and take off. Marine would measure as warm as toast, leading the medical examiner to believe she’d just passed.”
Harriet turned back to the desk.
“There are more sophisticated time-of-death tests, but I doubt anyone did any of them because they originally thought she was a drug overdose.” She pulled open a deep file drawer to the right of the knee well on the old oak desk. “Bingo,” she said and pulled out a stack of smallish white boxes.
Crazy as a Quilt (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 8) Page 21
