“I didn’t want to worry you or make you feel even more trapped in your job. I never said anything to you, but I knew you weren’t happy at the bank.”
“Okay, look. I’ll call the bank and see what I can do.” She stopped herself. “But what is the point? I mean, if you’re in Montana, and I don’t have a job." Or a husband. “I’ll call them. Maybe we can at least salvage our credit. A foreclosure would keep you from buying a place there.”
Cade said softly, “You’re not coming here, ever, are you?”
Before she lost her composure, Enid replied, “I don’t think that’s the solution. Goodbye, Cade.”
CHAPTER 45
Enid heard the phone ring somewhere. It sounded like it was underwater. She pushed the duvet away that had been covering her head and reached over to retrieve her phone from the bedside table. Dried tears caked her face. She reached for a tissue and blew her nose.
“Hello?”
“You sound like you were asleep. Did I wake you?” asked Jack.
“I was just taking a nap.”
“At two o’clock in the afternoon? You’ve gotten lazy while I’ve been gone.” When Enid didn’t reply, he added, “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“I just got back from Chicago last night, and I talked with my friend Dan at SLED this morning. He can meet with us this afternoon if you’re up to a little road trip.” He added, “I’ll even throw in dinner.”
Enid ran through a list of excuses she might use, but none seemed plausible. Catching a glimpse of her face in the mirror, she cringed. “Okay. I should be ready by the time you get here.”
* * *
The drive to Columbia was short and there was little conversation. Jack pulled into the parking lot at the Lizard’s Thicket restaurant on Broad River Road. “We’re meeting him here since this conversation is off the record.”
As soon as they sat down at a table inside the restaurant, a friendly blonde waitress appeared. “What y’all having?”
“We’ll have two teas. One sweet, one un,” said Jack. A tall man in khaki pants and a light blue shirt walked in and sat down. “Add another unsweet,” he said.
Jack introduced Enid to Dan and then they talked about the USC Gamecock’s fall season for a few minutes.
Dan turned to Enid. “Jack told me you were writing about Rose Marie Garrett. You were related to her somehow?” He glanced around the room, which was practically empty this time of day.
Enid nodded. “Yes, she was my husband’s cousin.”
“I see,” said Dan. “But you wanted to talk about Police Chief Dick Jensen, is that right? And this is somehow related to your story?”
Enid gave Dan a brief summary of what they had learned about Rosie’s death, while he listened attentively. At the end, she said, “When I began this story, it was about her life. I assumed the killer was dead or long gone by now.”
“And what do you think now? Do you think Chief Jensen was directly involved in Miss Garrett’s death, or you do think he merely botched the investigation?”
“Before I answer that, can I ask you a question?”
Dan remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
“Is Chief Jensen under investigation?” she asked.
The waitress appeared to provide drink refills, so everyone was quiet until she left. A man came in and sat down in the booth behind them. Dan glanced back to see who it was and then leaned in to reply in a low voice, directing his comment to Jack. “You know I could lose my job for talking to two reporters.”
Jack grinned. “You’re safe, since neither of us are reporters any longer. I’m sort of retired, and Enid doesn’t work for a newspaper.”
“That’s not very reassuring” said Dan, looking at Jack. “I trust you, but this conversation is way, way off the record, okay?”
Both nodded in reply.
“Chief Jensen has been on our watch list for a while. He, well, let’s say, we haven’t caught him red-handed, but he appears to skirt around the edges of the law. We had an informant tell us he paid the chief to look the other way. This was about five years ago. We snooped around a bit over there but found nothing solid to substantiate that allegation.”
“Are you still investigating him?” asked Enid.
“Not actively, but his name comes up from time to time, so we have an active file on him.” Dan shifted his weight to get more comfortable on the hard plastic seat. “You’ve got to understand, though, in small towns, especially where the family is as entrenched as the Jensen family is, they play by different rules. Things that we may consider out of line are often routine in places like Madden. For example, I can’t accept a fruit basket at Christmas from a grateful family, but Jensen probably gets a dozen pies during the holidays. It’s all relative and it may not seem fair, but unless we can prove Jensen actually took money from someone doing something illegal, then we’ve got nothing.”
Jack leaned forward. “Who supposedly paid off Jensen? One of the bikers?”
Dan wrapped a paper napkin around his glass to absorb the moisture and then took a sip. “I’d rather not confirm any specifics, but that wouldn’t be a bad guess.”
Enid responded to Dan’s earlier question. “I think Jensen knows who did it. The popular vote around Madden is that one of the bikers killed Rosie during a drug buy.”
“But you don’t believe that?” asked Dan.
“Rosie was a troubled kid. She was disillusioned and felt betrayed by everyone close to her. She may have played around with drugs a bit, but there were none in her system, according to the coroner’s notes. She was never arrested or treated for addiction, and I think the family, my husband’s family, would have intervened if she had a drug habit.”
“That still doesn’t implicate Jensen,” said Dan.
Jack jumped in. “No, it doesn’t. But he’s pushing that story awful hard. Too hard, if you ask me. What have you heard about Ray Jensen, the chief’s son?”
“Ray refused to say anything. He said he didn’t know anything and didn’t want to get involved.”
“Did you believe him?” asked Enid.
Dan shrugged his shoulders in reply and glanced at the time on his phone screen. “I’ve got to get back.” He put his phone back in the case on his belt and looked at Enid. “If you have specific information that he was involved in Miss Garrett’s death or that he deliberately misdirected the investigation, we want to know about it. You, or anyone else, can give us an anonymous tip.” He stood up to leave. “But I need specifics.”
Jack left money on the table for the teas, and he and Enid followed Dan out to the parking lot. Jack shook Dan’s hand and thanked him. Dan appeared to be uncomfortable talking outside, and quickly got in his car. “Don’t forget Garrett’s murder is still an open case. As civilians, you don’t need to be sticking your nose in it.” He held up his hand to keep Enid from speaking. “I know—you’re just writing about her life.” He put the key in the ignition and started the car. “And don’t misunderstand what I said about small town law enforcement. Underestimating Chief Jensen because he’s a small-town cop would be a mistake. The less involvement you have with him, the better.”
After Dan drove away, Enid said to Jack, “That meeting wasn’t very productive.”
“I know it seems that way, but Dan plays everything close to the cuff. He’ll go back and document everything you said, as coming from a confidential source, and add it to Jensen’s file. If Jensen is dirty, they’ll get him eventually. In the meantime, he’s right about staying as far away from Jensen as you can.”
After Enid and Jack got in the car, and Jack looked at the time on the car radio. “It’s a bit early for dinner, but we can hang around Columbia for a while. There’s a great little Italian Restaurant, the Villa Tronco, where we can eat dinner later.”
Enid focused on checking the text messages on her phone. “Sure, sounds good.” One, in particular, caught her attention. “On second thought, I’m a little tired. Can w
e do dinner some other time? I’d like to get back to Madden.”
“Sure.” Jack sounded disappointed. “Everything okay?”
Enid nodded. The message from Ray Jensen was clear:
“I’ll be in touch. Don’t tell anyone about this message.”
Thanks, Madelyn. You came through for me after all.
CHAPTER 46
Cassie walked into the inn’s library where Enid was staring at her laptop screen. “You working?” asked Cassie.
“Just checking on a few things.” Enid closed the laptop.
“I called Molly again to see if she had any more news on reaching Ray Jensen. She said he’s hard to reach these days, but she’ll see what she can do.” Cassie sat down in the chair across from Enid. “She said she was worried that you’re getting yourself in too deep with this story about Rosie.”
“In too deep? What exactly does that mean?” Her tone was harsher than she intended.
Cassie’s face showed her concern. “You keep saying you’re writing about Rosie’s life, not her murder. And I realize the two are inseparable in many ways. But it does seem like you’re playing detective.” Enid started to speak but Cassie held up her hand. “I know you’re tired of everyone telling you to be careful. But we care about you.”
Enid stood up and gathered her tote bag. “You’re right. I’m tired of people telling me to be careful. I know what I’m doing.” Enid saw the hurt on Cassie’s face. “Look, I appreciate your concern. But it’s time for the truth to be told. And it’s time for me to do what I think is right. I’ve been playing it safe all my life. I took a better paying job to make life easier, or so I thought. I watched Cade’s journalism career progress while I focused on taking care of Mother.” And to take care of Cade. She stopped to gather her composure. “I don’t regret any of it. I did what I thought was right at the time. But now, I’m going to give Rosie a voice and make sure she’s heard.”
“Are you sure you’re doing this for Rosie and not for you?” Cassie’s expression reminded Enid of her mother’s when Enid had tried to convince her mother she had taken the job at the bank to advance her career. Her mother knew, in the way mothers know these things, that Enid was making a big sacrifice to take care of the mounting medical bills. “Are you sure you’re not just doing this for me?” Her mother had asked with the same anxious expression Cassie had now.
Enid stood up again to leave. “I appreciate your concern, and your friendship. But if you can’t support me, at least don’t try to stop me.” She walked out of the room, sorry that she had been so abrupt with Cassie.
Half way up the stairs, she heard her cell phone ring. She tried to retrieve it but couldn’t reach the bottom of her tote without losing her balance. At the top of the stairs, she dug down into the large bag and felt the now-silent phone in her hand. Checking the missed calls, she saw a local number she didn’t recognize.
Enid went in her room and dropped off her things at the desk by the window. She called the missed number and it rang repeatedly, but no answering message kicked in. She was about to end the call when a male voice answered. “Hello.” He spoke softly, with a refined Southern accent.
“This is Enid Blackwell. I believe you just tried to reach me.” After a moment of silence, Enid assumed they had been cut off. “Hello. Are you still there?”
“I understand you’ve been trying to reach me,” he said.
Enid was annoyed at the secrecy. “Who are you and what do you want?”
“My name is Ray. Ray Jensen.”
Enid sat on the bed. “Ray?” She was momentarily speechless. “Thanks for calling.”
“Madelyn asked me to call you.”
Enid was struck by his obedience to Madelyn. She gathered her thoughts. “I’d like to meet with you.”
“What do you want from me?” He didn’t sound too happy.
Enid was afraid he was going to hang up. “I assume Madelyn told you that I am writing a story about Rose Marie Garrett, about her life.” No reply from the other end, so she continued. “I understand you two were close friends.”
“I’ll meet you at the old tobacco farm on the south side of town. I’ll text you the directions. Six o’clock this evening. And come alone.” Before the call ended, he added. “Don’t worry. I’m not the person you need to be afraid of.”
Enid held the phone in her hand, trying, but failing, to take comfort in those last words. She was tempted to ask Jack to go along and hide in the backseat, but decided against it. She didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the chance to talk to Ray.
She decided to leave a note on her bed before she left. At least, if something happened, Jack and Cassie would know where she had gone and who she was meeting. She pushed her worry aside and focused on what she wanted to ask Ray. She’d have to keep it simple and short, as this might be her only opportunity to talk to him. He knows something.
CHAPTER 47
At this time of day, there’s usually plenty of daylight left. This evening, the dark clouds overhead made it seem more like twilight. The old tobacco barn where Enid had agreed to meet Ray Jensen was leaning slightly to one side, its brown weathered siding hanging loose in places. Enid glanced around but saw no cars or sign of anyone. The car clock showed 6:05. Maybe he had already left, but surely he would have given her a few minutes’ leeway.
By 6:15, the gathering clouds made it almost as dark as night. The wind had begun to whip the trees in the approaching storm. Enid started the car and was putting it in reverse to leave when she saw a vehicle driving up behind her. Her survival instincts kicked in, and she looked around at her escape options. The only way out now was going through the open field beside the road. She kept the car running until the man she recognized as Ray climbed out of his car and walked toward her. Because of the heat, her car window was down. As a precaution, she raised it slightly but left enough space to carry on a conversation.
Ray rapped his knuckles on the car window. “Get out and let’s talk. Unless you want me to get in with you.”
Enid turned off the engine and opened the car door slowly.
Ray must have sensed her reluctance and stepped back away from her car. “You wanted to talk to me, remember?”
Feeling a bit foolish, Enid got out and shut the car door behind her. Ray had his hands in his pockets and looked harmless enough.
“Can we talk over by the barn?” he asked. “There’s an old bench over there we can sit on. This place belongs to my uncle. I come here sometimes to clear my head.”
Enid looked behind Ray and saw an old wooden bleacher that appeared to have been on a high school football field. It was sagging in the middle, and whether it could hold both their weights seemed questionable. Ray surprised her when he took a cloth handkerchief out of his pocket and laid it on the rough wooden plank for her to sit on. “Don’t worry. It’s clean—the handkerchief, I mean.”
Enid relaxed a bit and sat down on the neatly pressed white square. “Thanks,” she said. Ray sat slightly away from her but close enough to carry on a quiet conversation. “I appreciate your meeting with me.” Even though she was becoming more comfortable with Ray, she kept her tote close by, taking comfort that the gun Cassie had given her was in it. She mentally calculated how long it would take her to reach into the bag and grab the gun if she had to.
Forcing herself to breath normally, Enid turned slightly on the bench to face Ray. “Do you mind if I get my pad and take a few notes?”
A bolt of lightning illuminated the sky. Ray looked up at the clouds.
“Looks like we’re going to get a storm.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his legs and putting his hands on the back of his neck. He massaged the base of his skull a few times. “Madelyn says you’re writing an article or something about Rosie. I don’t want to be a part of it, but I’ll tell you what I can. But only off the record.” He pointed to Enid’s notepad she had pulled out of her tote. “I’d feel better if you wouldn’t write any of this down.”
&nbs
p; Enid had always admired Cade’s ability to remember long conversations without notes. After years as an investigative journalist, Cade had honed this skill, but Enid had trouble remembering a grocery list unless she wrote it down. Hopefully, with practice, she’d at least regain what recall abilities she had at one time. Enid smiled inwardly when she realized the irony of not being able to remember any of the mnemonic techniques her journalism professor had taught her.
“Alright, that’s fine.” Enid’s mind was racing. Should she start out with the easy questions to build rapport with Ray? But maybe he would only answer a few questions so she needed to jump right to the meaty ones. I hate being rusty. Just relax.
“What was your relationship with Rosie?”
“We were . . .” He seemed to be looking for the right words. “Special friends.” He looked away toward the dirt road leading to the barn.
“I’m not sure what that means. Were you platonic friends?” She paused. “Or more special than that?”
Ray continued to stare off into space, lost in a world that didn’t include Enid. She waited until he spoke. “We were more than just friends. At first, we were just two kids pissed off with our families. That was our common interest.” Even after more than a decade, he appeared to have difficulty characterizing his relationship with Rosie.
He continued, “I guess you know all about that crap her family pulled on her—telling her that her mother was dead.”
Enid nodded.
Ray wiped the dust from the soft leather of his brown loafers. Enid recognized them as Bruno Magli only because she and Cade had looked at them in a store and laughed, wondering who would pay that much for a pair of shoes. Cade ended up with a pair of knockoffs at a third of the cost.
“We never had sex.” Ray smiled slightly. “Not because I didn’t want to. But she needed a friend more than a tumble in the hay.” He paused. “I guess I loved her. In my own way.”
The wooden bench was getting harder by the minute, and Enid shifted her weight trying to get some relief. “I know Rosie did drugs. And I’ve been told the two of you used together—that you supplied her.”
Murder in Madden Page 17
