by Al Boudreau
“Oh, my goodness,” Sarah said.
“I think we should head down there. He’s going to need some support.”
“Yes, definitely,” Sarah said. “I’m glad I didn’t stick around for the interrogation. Was it bad?”
“No. James was compassionate. I don’t think he ever had Corey pegged as a suspect, anyways. It was more to rule him out. And Corey was as cooperative as anyone I’ve ever seen.”
I walked over to open the car door for Sarah when I noticed James heading our way. “Any way the three of us can have a sit-down to compare notes on the Enright case once you two are done visiting with Corey Anders?” he asked.
“Sure. How about 11 at the Hometown Diner?”
“That should work,” James replied.
I climbed in the car and looked over at Sarah, who was scrolling the screen on her phone. “Doesn’t look like anything’s been leaked concerning Amanda’s death yet. But the whole brouhaha with her being James Coughlin’s illegitimate child is still raging. Why do people crave that kind of controversy so much?”
“Because it makes folks feel better about their own miserable lives. They’re bored, and they want to be distracted by someone else’s dirty laundry.”
“Yeah, well, I think it sucks. Amanda is gone. Meanwhile, the world is all atwitter with her sordid family history. It makes me really sad, Carter. People are so disappointing.”
“That’s one of the many reasons I love you, Sarah Woods. You don’t buy in to all that negativity.”
“Thanks. That’s a really sweet thing to say.” Sarah reached over, grabbed my free hand, and held it as I drove.
We didn’t say much for the rest of the short drive to the hospital, my thoughts consumed by coming up with a mental list of murder suspects in preparation for our meeting with Detective James. His officers likely had half of them rounded up by now, soon to be questioned just like Corey Anders.
We pulled into Bridgeport Hospital’s visitor’s parking lot, found a spot, and headed inside to locate Corey. The receptionist at the visitor’s information desk gave us his room number and pointed us in the right direction.
We rode the elevator to the third floor and walked down the hall to Corey’s private room. As we knocked on the open door and entered I was surprised to find Kayla Brock crouching by Corey’s bedside, her head resting on his chest as tears streamed down his face.
Kayla’s eyes followed us as we got closer, but she made no effort to change her position. Conversely, Corey didn’t notice our presence until we reached the foot of his bed.
“Oh, Carter … Sarah … I’m so glad you’re here,” he said as he shifted his body. Only then did Kayla get up.
Sarah walked over to the side of the bed opposite Kayla. “Hi, Kayla. Good to see you’re here. I’m so sorry for your loss. Both of you,” she said as she reached for Corey’s hand.
Kayla nodded and her eyes began welling up with tears. “Thank you.”
“Yes,” I said. “Very sorry for your loss.”
Corey managed a weak smile. “Oh … I can’t stop these damn tears from falling. I’m convinced I’ll shrivel up and blow away if I don’t stop soon. I … I just can’t believe any of this is real.”
“I know,” Sarah said.
“We’re scheduled to meet with Detective James in a bit,” I said. “Corey, I’m sure your time with him was difficult, but he’s a friend. We know him well enough to vouch for him as one of Bridgeport’s most valuable assets. We’re going to put our heads together and find out what happened last night.”
Kayla and Corey both nodded, the sorrow behind their eyes making it hard to fight off my own sadness. Especially when I noticed Sarah’s cheeks glistening with tears.
“I know the detective has the responsibility of determining who committed this horrendous act, so I have no ill will toward him or his line of questioning. He was simply doing his job. That’s a good thing, as far as Amanda’s investigation is concerned.”
“Absolutely,” Sarah said. “I’m glad you feel that way.”
“I can’t bear to hear any details yet, but….” Corey paused to catch his breath. “Once I’ve had some time to recover from the shock of it all, I’d like to hear what happened from the two of you. Pertaining to the details of Amanda’s death, I mean.”
Kayla nodded. “Me, too, please. Amanda was the big sister I never had.”
“Absolutely,” Sarah said. “Is there anything at all that Carter and I can do for either of you? Or get for you?”
Kayla and Corey looked at one another and both shook their heads.
“Well, then, we’re going to get to work on this case right away,” I said. “We’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you,” Corey said.
I waited for Sarah to begin moving toward the door then followed her out.
“My heart aches for Kayla,” Sarah said. “She seems to be taking Amanda’s loss nearly as hard as Corey is.”
“Yep. Guess the three of them were kind of like a little family.”
“Yeah. Good observation,” Sarah said. “I never thought of them in that way until now, but I think you’re right.”
“I didn’t want to bring it up while we were in there, but James is going to want to bring Kayla in for questioning, too.”
“Of course,” Sarah said. “She was one of the last people to see Amanda alive.”
“I don’t see her as a suspect any more than I did Corey, but it would be helpful to know we can 100% rule her out. The less people we have to look at, the more we can focus on those who might be responsible.”
“Uh-huh. Like that scumbag newspaper guy, for instance.”
“Yep. He’s high on my list, even though he seems way too obvious,” I said. “And he’d have had no credible way of knowing Amanda was planning to meet with Meghan McCue.”
“No, but he could have been watching Amanda,” Sarah said. “Following her. At any rate, this therapy guru woman seems to be the one with the most explaining to do. Amanda was found inside this woman’s soon-to-be office. That couldn’t have happened by accident, or by some wild coincidence.”
“You’re right. There’s also the contractor who supposedly found her there. Yet, out of all the obvious suspects, the newspaper executive is the only one with a clear motive. Bottom line? If he’s guilty, he’s one lousy criminal. I doubt someone would be idiotic enough to threaten another human being in front of hundreds of people, only to turn around and commit murder the very same night. But I’ve been in this field long enough to know these cases are rarely what they seem to be on the surface.”
Sarah nodded. “Good that we’re both tenacious, right? With James’s help, we’re going to find out who did this.”
“Yep. We’re a little ahead of schedule for our meeting with James. Let’s use the time to take a drive past Briarwood. Get the lay of the land, so to speak. I want to see which unit this McCue woman owns, look at the unit’s orientation to the street, what kind of lighting is in place. Maybe it’ll help give us some clue as to how this one played out.”
“Let’s do it.”
Chapter 10
“Guess Amanda’s murder is no longer a secret,” Sarah said as we rounded the curve in the road leading to the entrance of Briarwood Office Condominiums. There were mobile satellite vans and cars from over a dozen news outlets lining the property, and police vehicles everywhere.
“I see James’s cruiser over near the end of the building. His men must have their hands full with all these people in and around the scene.”
“Uh-huh. Good thing he’s on this one, because we’re not going to be able to get close enough to draw many conclusions of our own. I’m eager to find out what he’s seeing inside the place.”
“Yep. Best we give him plenty of space to get the facts down.”
“McCue’s condo is an end unit,” Sarah said. “Any way we can maneuver through the chaos to get a peek at the back side of the building?”
“Let’s give it a shot,” I said
as I pulled a U-turn then approached the building from a different angle. “The road that runs parallel to the rear of the place isn’t very close, but maybe we can see well enough to get an idea how the floor plan is laid out.”
Sarah rolled her window down and took a few pictures with her phone as I drove slowly past the property. “Looks like there are egress doors on the back side of every ground unit.”
“Yep. Troubling we’re not seeing much lighting, though” I said. “One fixture next to each exit door, and a single flood fixture up high, near the midpoint of the roofline.”
“Looks like there might be cameras on both corners, though.”
“Let’s hope they’re functional, and not just visual props. Those fake cameras don’t keep people from committing crimes.”
Sarah rolled her window up and turned toward me. “I know we’ve still got a half hour before we’re scheduled to meet James, but what do you say we hit the diner early and grab a booth.”
“You won’t get any argument from me. My stomach is screaming to be filled.”
“Aw, I forgot to feed you again, didn’t I? Some partner I turned out to be.”
“Think I’ll keep you around just the same. House is way too quiet when you’re not in it.”
Sarah smiled. “Well … guess I should put off telling you about the three week cruise I’ve been planning with the girls, then.”
I looked over at her and rolled my eyes. “You’re full of it. You’d miss me too much.”
Sarah let her head fall back against the headrest then turned and stared out the passenger side window as we made our way toward the diner. After a few moments she said, “I’ve been thinking about a particular point Amanda made during her show last night. And, in light of what’s happened to her, it really rings true to me.”
“The one about suppression causing people to blow?” I asked.
“That, too, but it’s not the one I’m talking about. She said something about people being bullies behind the glass, but cowards face-to-face. And she’s right.”
“I kind of feel like it’s always been that way.”
“Really?” Sarah paused for a moment then continued. “Maybe it’s different for you because you were a cop. Or because you’re a man. But I feel like it’s more common, lately. In fact, I had a run-in with a young girl while I was on my way to the market the other day. The little twit cut right in front of me on Main Street---nearly took out my front fender---then proceeded to give me the finger. And I mean with passion. Thing is, I did absolutely nothing to provoke that kind of reaction.”
“You weren’t riding her back bumper after she cut you off?”
“I swear, I did nothing of the kind.” Sarah shook her head and let go a sigh. “So, get this. She pulls into the same parking lot I was heading into. Well … I couldn’t resist. I caught up with her and told her what I thought of her antics, in no uncertain terms. Know what she did? She scurried away with her tail between her legs. Wouldn’t make eye contact. Nothing. Acted like I wasn’t even there. Like it never happened.”
“Bet she figured she’d never see you again when she flipped you off,” I said.
“Yeah, well, that’s just the point. A PC person would have just smiled at her and let it go. And she was obviously counting on me not making any waves, or ruffling feathers. Thought I’d just suck it up and take it.”
“Yep. I get it,” I said. “Well, that part. But you also said it rings true to you, in light of what happened to Amanda. Not quite sure how it relates.”
“Simple. Amanda was bold. She spoke her mind. She took a stand. And some coward tricked her. Some bully snuffed out that young, vibrant woman’s life.”
“Hmm. I see what you’re driving at, but … well, we don’t know squat about the circumstances surrounding Amanda’s death at this point.”
“Maybe not,” Sarah said, “but Amanda couldn’t have ended up inside that office condo at such a late hour by chance. Someone obviously went to great lengths to get her there. Either to mask their own identity, or to frame an innocent person for murder.”
Chapter 11
“I can’t believe how often you two end up with the same booth,” James said as he approached our table inside The Hometown Diner. “What do you do, call ahead to reserve it?”
“Nah. People just know,” I replied. “They take one look at us when we walk in and vacate our spot. It’s a respect thing.”
James shook his head and laughed. “That’s what I like about you two. I can always count on your goofy sense of humor. Which, after a morning like this one, is a welcome relief.”
“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked.
“The media circus, what else?” James said. “We don’t get high-profile cases in this town often, but when we do it makes my job a heck of a lot harder to manage.”
“Yeah. We took a ride by Briarwood an hour ago,” Sarah responded. “Those news people remind me of Koi fish at feeding time. It’s like a free-for-all frenzy of hunger.”
“No doubt,” I said. “Good analogy.”
“You two eat?” James asked, staring at our depleted coffee mugs.
“Oh, Carter wanted to,” Sarah said to James. “I told him he needed to be polite and wait for you to get here.”
James looked at me, eyebrow raised. “Carter, don’t ever do that again. A man has to eat.”
I looked at Sarah. She gave both of us a wrinkled-up scowl. “I won’t choose to take the high road for either of you two ingrates ever again,” she muttered.
Which made us laugh out loud.
“Hello, Detective,” our server said as she returned with another mug, then proceeded to fill all three to the brim. “What’s it going to be?”
“The special, please,” James replied.
“Make it three,” Sarah said.
“Coming up.”
I reached in my back pocket for my notebook and nodded at James. “What have we got?”
“The medical examiner estimates Enright’s time of death to be between 10:30 pm and 11:00 pm. Signs of blunt force trauma to the back of the head, coupled with possible strangulation. It appears the hyoid bone was fractured, suggesting the killer was able to get some decent pressure against Amanda Enright’s throat. This is all from his preliminary field report, so it’s not conclusive. But he seemed to think his early findings would stick.”
Sarah closed her eyes and began squeezing the back of her neck. “I just lost my appetite.”
James nodded and continued. “She was found on the floor, adjacent to the rear exit of the condo unit. The M.E. thinks she was struck in the back of the head then straddled and strangled, using a breaker bar from a ratchet set found on the floor next to her. It appears, judging by the leaf fragments and grass clipping found in Enright’s hair, that the killer pinned her throat against the open door’s sill until she stopped breathing.”
“Prints?” I asked.
“Nothing on the alleged murder weapon,” James said. “Prints belonging to the contractor and the therapist were all over everything else, with the exception of the back door handles. Those were wiped clean.”
“What about witnesses and surveillance?” Sarah asked.
“Nothing so far,” James replied. “The cameras mounted on the building are real, but haven’t been activated since initial testing when the building opened, months ago.”
“What did you find on Enright’s phone?” I asked. “Anything helpful?”
“What phone? No device at the crime scene. And, so far, nothing inside her home. My men are searching the grounds surrounding the Briarwood structure as we speak. What I did find, however, were three different kinds of pills in her bag. None of them in prescription bottles, either.”
“Yeah, I saw her take something when we were down at the station last night,” Sarah said. “I figured she might have a pill problem.”
“The M.E. is planning a full tox screen, so we’ll see what he comes up with.”
“So, the contractor, therapist Meg
han McCue, and this newspaper jerk Herod Erlichman are all under your microscope?” I asked.
“We’ve already ruled Erlichman out,” James replied. “He went straight back to Boston, after we released him, to leak his story about Amanda Enright being the televangelist’s illegitimate daughter. As a result, the guy’s got alibis galore. He’s pretty pissed-off, though. Apparently, someone he works with tipped off the reporter who wrote the front page story for the Bridgeport Gazette. As a result, the Gazette beat Erlichman’s rag to the punch with the news. Not only that, but by the time Erlichman’s Monday edition went out for delivery the revelation was already making its way across the internet like a rocket.”
“Are you holding the contractor and the therapist down at the station?” Sarah asked.
“Yes. The boys are keeping McCue busy at the station until I can get there. Gave her the old ‘material witness’ song-and-dance. And the contractor is in a black-and-white, on his way to the station now. Speaking of suspects, I’ll need to bring the general manager of WTLK in, as well as the young intern. Do you happen to have contact information for either of them with you?”
“Both.” I flipped through a few pages of my notebook then spun it around so James could see it. “There you go.”
“Why can’t working with other people be as easy as it is with you two?”
“Because then you wouldn’t really be earning your pay,” I said.
“You’re going to earn yourself a special hand gesture if you’re not careful, Carter,” James replied, the three of us breaking into laughter as our server delivered our meals.
“Y’all are in a real good mood for a Monday,” our server said as she set the platters of lasagna and salad down before us.
“Not really,” James replied. “We’re just real good at faking it.” He finished jotting down his notes then slid my notebook back across the table.
We took a few minutes to dig into our food, taking a break from discussing the murder investigation. It was becoming a heavy case for all of us, the lunchtime breather a welcome opportunity.
Sarah was first to speak after we’d plowed through the better part of our food. “Was there any sign of forced entry at the office condo?”
