The Survivors Club

by J. Carson Black

  “No problem.”

  The first page carried the details of the shooting. Karen Poole, along with the clerk, was killed. Karen had been standing by the counter of the Pit Stop convenience store, talking to the young man behind the counter. It was just before shift change at twelve midnight. She was shot at point-blank range. The young man, a kid with dishwater-blond hair and a stud through his eyebrow, had fallen behind the counter, shot through the eye. The killer had managed to get him to open the cash register and took what little money was there.

  Tess watched and rewatched the surveillance tape. The man who entered the store wore a black ski mask and a hoodie. The sweatshirt he wore either made him look bulky or he was heavyset. Under the ski mask his head looked substantial, and from the way he moved, Tess thought he was older—pushing forty. Definitely not a kid.

  Tess asked Searles, “Have you made any progress on this case?”

  “Unfortunately, no. The only witnesses are dead. And the guy must have run off to a car parked nearby.”

  “Anything unusual?”

  “No. Except usually the robberies are committed by younger males.”

  She saw no nervousness. No panic. No hesitation.

  He was good with a weapon. Just from the trajectory, just from the way he killed.

  “How much money was there in the drawer?”

  “Twenty dollars.”

  Tess went back and forth through the report. It looked an awful lot like Karen Poole had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was just too much evidence that this was a convenience store holdup.

  But she didn’t believe that.

  Tess had already formed an opinion, already thought the shooter was Wade Poole. Everything she’d learned about him pointed to that. But the evidence just wasn’t there. There didn’t seem to be a way to orchestrate it. No way to make it happen. Too many variables.

  Tess said, “So what do you think?”

  “The guy’s a good shot.”

  The image was grainy and dark. The man had walked out the door to the right, money stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie. To the right along the walkway and out of view. Gone.

  “Can we look at it again?”

  “Sure.”

  Tess watched it three times.

  “Can we go back?”

  “Sure.”

  “There.”

  Detective Searles stopped the tape. There was a lot of static, everything frozen, gray and black, blurry image, the greenish light of a car going by, headlights hitting the wall.

  “What does that look like to you?”

  “His hand?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s wearing gloves.”

  “Yes, he is. But there. You can see the outline of a ring. On his right hand.”

  “Looks like some kind of man’s ring. Biggest ring I’ve ever seen.”

  The ring was bulky and square, stretching the leather glove.

  Tess had seen a clunky ring like that before. She’d seen it on the third finger of the right hand of the cheerful rancher type she’d met at Jaimie Wolfe’s place.

  How he’d grinned and looked around at the stable yard, at the riding ring, and the barn. “Name’s Barnes,” he’d told her.

  She saw him reach down to lift a potted plant off its saucer, exposing the key to the house. Saw the clunky ring sparkle in the sunlight as he twisted the key in the doorknob, all the while making small talk. She remembered asking him for his contact information so she could talk to him later, and how he’d put her off by asking her to give him her card.

  “I’ll copy you on the file and the tape,” Jenny Searles was saying. “The detective on the original case is Sol Green. I think his number’s still good.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  “Great,” Tess said. But she hardly registered the walk back out to the front doors of the station.

  She was still back at Jaimie’s ranch, watching Wade Poole let the dogs inside the house as he gave her the biggest snow job ever.

  Tess called Sol Green’s number but got no reply. She checked in to a Red Roof Inn off the freeway—on her dime—and called Bonny at home.

  “Where are you again?”

  “I’m in Phoenix.”

  She ran it down for him.

  “Any progress?”

  “I don’t know. I thought while I was here I would see what I could find out about Pat Schofield’s sister’s homicide.”

  “What’s that got to do with it? How long ago was she killed?”

  “Eleven years ago.”

  “I don’t see what you’re looking for.”

  “I don’t, either. It’s probably nothing. But Pat Scofield, George Hanley’s daughter, ran into Wade Poole, Karen’s husband. She’s afraid of him, and thinks Karen was a victim of domestic violence.”

  “That’s not your case. What’s it look like?”

  “It looks like a simple robbery-homicide. A holdup.”

  “Then why are you still there?”

  “I’m sleepy, and I don’t want to make the drive.”

  A pause.

  Tess wondered, in that moment, if she’d just driven over the line.

  “Good enough,” Bonny said at last. “Keep me posted.”

  The next morning Tess called Danny, who was awake and on his way in to work. “Do you have the Scofields’ number?”

  “No, but it’s in the file.”

  “Will you text me?”

  “Sure.”

  “How’s Elena?”

  “Perfect. Although you’d be amazed how such a puny little thing can make such noise. We’re in for a long long year.”

  More than a year, Tess thought.

  Tess called Sol Green again. This time he answered—on the first ring. “I was just about to call you.”

  Tess asked if she could come by and talk to him. He gave her directions to an older section of Phoenix. Brick ranch houses, lots of large trees and lawns—something you didn’t see in new sections.

  Sol Green and his wife were just finishing breakfast when Tess showed up.

  They insisted she have breakfast.

  Tess asked him a number of questions about the homicide. His wife at that point took the dishes to the sink and rinsed them, as if shutting out what they were saying, then came over and kissed him on the cheek and said, “I’m going to the store.”

  “Okay, hon.”

  He leveled his worn eyes on Tess. “So what do you want to know?”

  Tess was on the freeway by ten a.m. She’d already put in a call to Bonny, telling him what she’d learned from Sol Green. “Bottom line, Wade Poole knew where Karen would be that night, because she was waiting for her nephew to get off work.”

  “Her nephew?”

  “The other victim, David Molroney. He was her nephew—which was not in the cold case file.”

  She’d learned this from Sol Green.

  Tess explained that Karen had been married before she married Wade Poole and was on good terms with David, her nephew from that marriage. In fact, she thought of him as a son. His car was in the shop that week, and while he could get a ride to the store, she agreed to pick him up while his car was in the shop. She did it for a week.

  “Sol Green told me they looked at Poole, but he had friends who vouched for him—he was at a bowling alley. Said he cooperated. Everything pointed to a random shooting.”

  Bonny whistled.

  Tess said, “He wanted to get rid of her, so he made it look like a robbery.”

  “Audacious.”

  Tess told Bonny about her meeting with Dave Barnes a.k.a. Wade Poole at Jaimie Wolfe’s place. Remembering how he’d smiled and looked around the barnyard and picked himself out a nice, unmemorable name. Remembering the chunky ring on his finger. “He was good, Bonny. He was just your friendly neighborhood rancher type looking after a friend’s property.”

  She saw his face now: open, honest, affable. A sunny personality.

&n
bsp; Only a psychopath could pull that off.

  Bonny said, “Jesus.”

  Driving back, Tess superimposed the image of the man she’d met at Jaimie’s over the hooded figure at the convenience store. Fortunately, she could run the tape back in her head exactly as she’d seen it on the video recorder.

  Tess recognized his movements.

  Subtle things.

  The man had always been in control. He knew how to get the upper hand from the beginning—like a good cop would.

  And then, there were the gloves, and the bulky ring hidden underneath one of them.

  CHAPTER 45

  After chores were done, after calling to cancel lessons yet again, Jaimie heard the phone ring in the house.

  She was hopeful. Maybe someone had found Adele.

  As she walked to the house, she thought for the hundredth time that something might have scared Adele. Dogs did run away. If so, she hoped Adele would find her way back. She’d taken Adele as a trophy, but already loved her like one of her own. The idea of Adele out there on her own, lost, hungry, maybe even hurt—was unbearable. Every time the phone rang, she hoped it was someone looking for a reward—she’d gladly pay a hundred dollars. Two hundred, even, if she could just get Adele back.

  She was still in shock over Chad’s death. She felt as if she’d been beaten around the head. And Michael—she sensed that something was going on with him. Michael, the rock of the family. She sensed that he was holding something back. She sensed that he was scared.

  Everything going to shit.

  She got to the phone just before the recorder came on. “Hello?”

  “Listen carefully.”

  It had to be a prank. Whoever it was had been sucking on helium. “Michael, is that you? Because it’s not very fun—”

  “I have your dog.”

  “What? Who are you?”

  “A friend. I found your dog on the road. She’s got a collar and tags, and the tag says ‘Bandit.’ That’s your dog, isn’t it?”

  The weird Donald Duck voice, high-pitched and thin as a thread. She heard whoever it was pause, suck on something, and then he piped: “I want a reward.”

  “I offered a reward. One hundred dollars—it’s all yours.”

  “Good.”

  “Why don’t you bring her here and I’ll write you a check.”

  “No check—cash. I don’t trust the DeKoven family.”

  That high Donald Duck voice.

  “Okay, bring her here. When are you coming?”

  “No, you meet me.”

  “Meet you?” That didn’t sound like a good idea. Fear began to thrum in her stomach, in her heart. Was this a crank call? “No, you come here.”

  “What a shame.”

  “What do you mean, what a shame?”

  “Poor doggie. Looks like Bandit is gonna go to heaven.” And the caller hung up.

  Jaimie succumbed to panic. She’d blown it! Now this monster would kill Adele. She tried to find the number on the readout, but it was blocked. There was no place to call. How’d they do that? She had to talk to him—had to. The motherfucking bastard was going to kill her dog!

  She sat there, trembling. Unable to move, unable to think.

  The phone rang again. Jaimie stumbled to her feet and snatched it up. “Who’s this?”

  Helium Man said, “I’ll give you one more chance.”

  CHAPTER 46

  Tess and Danny were once again in the Scofield kitchen. This time the subject was all about Wade Poole.

  “So it was him,” Pat Scofield said, after heating up a plate of tamales. “You want one? They’re homemade—Bert made them.”

  “Thanks,” Danny said. They each took one, doled out on dinner roll plates.

  “Let’s go out onto the patio,” Pat said. “It’s so nice out there, even though it’s sweater weather.”

  Pat said, “I saw him again. I was sure it was him, but Bert said it was my imagination. Even though he wasn’t there.” She shot him a resentful look.

  Tess let Danny take this. She thought that he and Pat had a better relationship, for whatever reason. Bert looked put out, discounting his wife as usual.

  “Can you tell me where you saw him?” Danny said, his voice quiet and gentle.

  “Well, I was at the Safeway. And he was in line in the checkout—two people ahead of me.”

  “Do you think he saw you?”

  “He looked back. He tried to hide it, but I’m pretty sure I saw surprise on his face.”

  “Did he say anything to you?”

  “No.”

  “Did you say anything to him?”

  “I wouldn’t give him the time of day.”

  “So what did he do then?”

  “He just turned around and stacked his groceries on the conveyer belt. Like he never even saw me.”

  “So you think he recognized you.”

  “Oh, he recognized me all right. How do you not recognize your dead wife’s sister?”

  “Did he react in any way?”

  “You could tell he wasn’t going to. He thinks he got away with how he treated my sister, but he knew my feelings about him.”

  “What happened next?”

  “He left. I was still in line—I couldn’t exactly follow him out! But I watched him go, you better believe I did.”

  “What did you see?”

  “I saw him go out the sliding doors, you could see through them, and walk into the parking lot with his groceries.”

  “Did you see him get into a car?”

  “No. The person in front of me only had four or five items and I was putting things on the belt.”

  “So you didn’t see what he was driving.”

  “No.”

  Danny looked at Tess. “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate—”

  “But I did see the truck when he drove by that couple of times. What you’d call cruising.”

  “Can you describe the truck?”

  “It was white.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I don’t know anything about trucks. Sorry.”

  Danny looked at his notes. “Can you tell me about your sister’s nephew from her first marriage? His name was David, right?”

  “Yes.

  “She really liked him. But you have to understand, I wish she’d never met him. If she hadn’t, she would have never—” Pat’s fingers abruptly went to her mouth and her eyes grew wide. She looked at Tess.

  She’d made the connection. After all these years.

  Tess could see she was flailing. Her eyes were glassy as she looked from Tess to Danny and back again.

  Danny hunkered down so he could look in to her eyes. “Are you all right?”

  “I…” She glanced around, focused on her husband.

  Tess noticed the stubborn look on Bert’s face. Had he thought the same thing at one time, but then discarded it as impossible? Tess had no way of knowing.

  Danny said, “Do you think that is possible? That she was killed on purpose?”

  “By someone, do you mean Wade?” demanded Bert Scofield. “Because that’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard of.”

  Tess thought that the idea must have crossed his mind before.

  Pat said, “You didn’t see the way he had her under his thumb. There’s a mean side to him, as I keep telling you, but you won’t listen and neither would Dad.”

  Danny shot a look at Tess. Tess said to Bert, “Would you mind—I like those tamales so much. I’m wondering if you can give me the recipe.”

  “Sure.” He led her back into the kitchen. He reached into the cupboard and plunked down a bag of blue corn and husks for the wrapping. “It’s pretty straightforward.”

  “Could you write it down for me? I’d really appreciate it.”

  “Sure.” His voice was gruff. He grabbed a tablet that had been affixed to the refrigerator and got a pen from the kitchen drawer. “You’re not fooling me. You just wanted me out of there.”

  “Yes, that’s ri
ght. But I do want the recipe.”

  “Fine. But what you have to understand is, Pat’s always been, well, a conspiracy theorist. She’s been convinced from day one that Wade killed Karen. Although thankfully, she never said it in public. I don’t want to get sued.”

  “Is Wade the suing type?”

  “Who knows? But if you want my opinion, I think she’s imagining things.”

  “But you do admit he’d know where she was at twelve o’clock that night.”

  “Sure. But that doesn’t mean he’d do anything. Look, I know people. I work in business. He and I used to go on hunting trips together, and you get to know a guy. I don’t believe it, and I’ll tell you another thing, her dad thought he was a good guy. They worked together for fifteen years. George was his mentor. They were like that.” He crossed his fingers.

  “You sound convinced.”

  “I know people. Wade’s one of the nicest people you’d ever want to meet. Karen was…she was difficult. Her first marriage ended, but she got attached to that kid, Dave. Couldn’t let it go. No relation, but she was always humoring him. You ask me, she had a crush on the kid. You know, like those schoolteachers?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know, older women and kids barely out of high school. Or even in high school. She was a teacher herself. So…it’s not a leap to think that she might have had a crush on the kid. Going out there at midnight to pick him up when his car was in the shop? You asked me and I’m telling you what I really think: she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Tess heard footsteps behind her—Danny. “Hey, thank you!” he said to Bert. “We’ve taken up enough of your time, so we’ll be going.”

  “Yeah, well.” Bert glared at Danny. “Maybe you should spend more time on solving my father-in-law’s murder instead of going on wild goose chases.”

  “Hey, you might be right,” Danny said. He held out a hand. “We’ll do our best to find out who killed him. It’s important to us.”

  “Yeah,” Bert grumbled. “‘Your call’s important to us.’”

  Tess grinned at Danny.