by Lois Lavrisa
“Who, me?” I stammered.
“You’re a good actress, but you can’t fool me. You knew all along about the connection.”
“Okay. You got me. So, are you going to tell me what she said? Or what?”
“How about first, you tell me what’s going on? Because clearly you didn’t listen to me when I told you to leave my investigation alone.”
“You’re right, and I’m really sorry.” For the next few minutes, I told him everything I’d learned about the case, no matter how minor or inconsequential it seemed.
After I finished, José said, “You know. I hate to admit this, but you might be on to something.”
“Aren’t you glad that I didn’t listen to you?”
“No,” he said.
I avoided the chance for him to rebuke me by moving on. “So, what was on the witness statement?”
“The report said that Miss Woodham was only five years old, a minor, so her parents were also listed. What I surmised from the report is that the witness, Priscilla Woodham, had been out walking her dog. Her parents said she was only allowed to go down to the end of her street, about four houses away from her home. Priscilla had stopped, catty-corner to the convenience store when it all went down.”
“So far this matches up with what Gerald told me already,” I interjected, confidant that his story would line up.
Gerald was such a wonderful guy.
José cleared his throat. “Miss Woodham ran home and told her parents what she saw and heard. By then, the police were already at the scene of the crime. Anyway, her parents took her over to the police, and they filled out a witness report.”
“Any details that you can share?”
“I have my notes here, hold on,” he said. I heard shuffling of papers. “Let’s see, red car. One person in the car. Driver wore an orange hat. Kids are very color-oriented. It’s not like they know the make and models of cars.”
I volunteered to clarify information. “By the way, it was a sixty-nine GTO Judge, carousel red with a V-8. And the orange hat was a gift from Gerald’s uncle, a big Orioles fan. Remember, I told you Gerald had driven the car?” I added, “But like I said, he was innocent.”
José exhaled. “In the witness report, it said that Miss Woodham saw a firecracker coming from the store.”
“That must have been the gunshot the store owner fired at Gerald’s friend as he tried to escape,” I said.
He was silent for a moment. “But she said before that shot, or in her words, ‘a firecracker,’ first she’d seen a firecracker come from the red car.”
“Well, that just doesn’t make sense. Because Gerald was alone in the car. If a shot came from his car, that would mean that he…” My heart faltered and my head spun.
“Yes?” José prompted me.
“Two shots. Two shots. Oh José, Priscilla remembered.” An alarm rang in my head. “Do you think there might be any chance that Priscilla remembered wrong? I mean, she was so young at the time.”
“Kids are super sharp, and her statement was taken within minutes of the crime. And she was interviewed by three officers, three separate times that evening. Her witness report was exactly the same each time. I think what she said could be considered very accurate.”
“Why would a shot come from Gerald’s car?” I repeated the story he’d told me. “Gerald said he saw his buddy coming out of the store. After that, he told me he’d seen the store owner shoot his friend, then Gerald took off.”
“You can tell me what Gerald told you a million times, Annie Mae. But considering details from the witness, that doesn’t add up.”
“I know. But I’m trying really hard to have it make sense in my mind.” I needed to believe Gerald, to trust him.
“Annie Mae, you and Gerald are friends, and I think you want to believe him. But from my experience everyone, without exception, lies. And there were two different shell casings found. One from the store owner’s gun, and the other was not. And it looked like their investigation hit a dead end with the other bullet, the one that caused the fatality.”
“So the store owner’s shot did not kill the kid?”
“No.”
I was barely able to breathe. “If he lied, that changes everything. He could’ve killed Priscilla to keep her quiet.”
Fear hit me like icy water.
Gerald was a horrible person.
“Hold on, we don’t know that for sure. But you’re right, that would give Mr. Gill reason to silence her, permanently. But I have to follow procedures,” José said.
“He had the motive, the opportunity and the means to do it.” The thoughts flew out of my mouth, “Every single accident this week, he was around. Oh my, he could have done it all. Killing, wayward car, ghost falling, head hitting—”
“Annie Mae, listen to me,” He cut me off. “I’ll be over in a while. What time does your theater camp closing ceremony end?”
“In about two hours.”
“Good I’ll be there then. Do not, I repeat, do not do anything. Let me do my job, you know the one I was trained for and you were not?”
I clicked off without answering him.
Dang it if I was going to allow Gerald to pull the wool over my eyes, everyone’s eyes. The first shot was from the car, Gerald’s car.
My stomach twisted, as I tasted acid in my mouth.
A theory formed in my head. Could Gerald have planned the robbery all along? Did he send his friend in, but somehow his friend botched the robbery, and Gerald shot him so that his friend would not be able to rat him out, then Gerald sped off?
He killed his friend. The dead can’t talk.
I shivered. Did Gerald kill two people?
Yes, the dead can’t talk, but Priscilla did. Her note had the words two shots circled three times. She knew, or at least had remembered that night.
Time for me to face the handsome devil and make him pay.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Two hours later, after I had rushed home, got showered, dressed and made up, I was at the closing ceremony. It was a grand event and a wonderful closing ceremony.
Pricilla’s team had won first place and my team placed second. As the audience chattered, they spilled out of the auditorium into the lobby for refreshments, and I walked over to Bezu.
“Annie Mae, you look like a million bucks,” she greeted me.
“Thank you.” I was wearing a long cobalt sequined gown.
Bezu gave me a hug. “You smell good, too.”
Forgetting what I’d put on, I sniffed my wrist. “Sandalwood. Listen, there’s something really important I’d like to talk to you about.”
“Sure, why don’t we go over there?” She pointed to a quiet corner of the lobby.
“I think I know who the killer is,” I said when we were out of earshot from the crowd.
“Bradley, I mean, Dwight?”
“No, he’s just a jerk.”
Bezu smiled, “And you don’t need any detective work to find that out.”
“Right.” I grinned. Then I glanced around, making sure no one could hear. I whispered, “I think Gerald murdered Priscilla.”
She covered her mouth. “Gerald? You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, but I am.” I shared with her all I’d discovered.
“So you think he not only planned the robbery, but set his friend up to do it, then killed him when he realized his friend bungled the robbery?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“And do you think he stole my car and tried to hit Priscilla and Dwight?”
“Possibly. He happened to be around every time there was an accident, or near-accident.” I said. “And he could have also cut the rope on the ghost prop, and also hit Winona in the head. Maybe he did all of it. I didn’t want to confront him until after the ceremony. No sense ruining that for the kids. But now it’s fair game.”
“What do you have in mind?” Bezu asked. “And do you need help?”
“No. You finish up what you have to do. I
’ve bothered you enough this week while you were trying to work. I can take care of Gerald myself.” I didn’t want to admit I had no clue how I was going to confront him.
“I’d be glad to help, after all I agreed to be your sidekick.”
“And I appreciate it, but I’ve got it covered. Plus José said he would be here after the ceremony. I expect him to be here anytime now. I’m just going to do a little preemptive work. It’s personal to me.”
“What’s your plan?”
“Don’t you worry about that.” I looked over and spotted Wilbert and his dad, K-Man, who was drinking punch with one hand while balancing a little plate of snacks with the other. Several feet from them, Winona stood off to the side chatting with some students. “First, I have a good deed to do.”
“Before you leave, I have to tell you I’m flying to Brazil tomorrow, and spending a few weeks with Luiz.”
“That’s terrific, and well deserved. You go and have a great time,” I said.
“Are you sure I can’t help? I think it’d be easier confronting a murderer, than meeting Luiz’s parents for the first time. Luiz said that they are not fond of Americans, mostly Southern ones. He thinks they’ll love me, but I’m as nervous as a flock of chickens seeing a fox. Really, I’d rather stay here and help you. And I really think that you should wait for José to arrive before you confront Gerald.”
“Sorry.” I laughed. “I need to handle this myself. It’s personal.” After I left Bezu, I approached Winona.
She excused herself from the two students she’d been chatting with.
“Great closing ceremony, huh?” I said.
“It was nice.” Winona had on a form-fitting grey gown that showed off her cute figure.
“And congratulations to your team.”
“You mean my mom’s team.” Winona blushed. “I’m trying to get used to saying it out loud. It makes it seem real.”
“Yes, your mother’s team.” I squeezed her hand. “Listen, I have some people I want you to meet.”
A moment later, we stood in front of Wilbert and his father. I made introductions, and we all shared some small talk about the ceremony.
“Angelo, didn’t you go to high school with Priscilla Woodham?” I asked.
“Yes.” Angelo, The K-Man, was a tall thin man, with a strong nose, cleft chin, and one dimple in his cheek. He wore his hair short and neatly combed. He studied Winona.
“Winona, you might find this interesting, but Priscilla and Angelo had a connection. They not only went to the same high school, they dated the summer before senior year,” I said.
“Yeah, they did.” Wilbert nodded.
“Actually, right through the second month of school. Then she broke up with me,” K-Man interjected. “By the way, I’m really sorry about what happened to her. I really liked her.”
Winona seemed to scrutinize him. “May I ask what month you broke up?”
“Sometime that September,” he said.
Winona bit her nail.
No doubt, she was adding September through June and coming up with nine months as well.
“Small world, huh?” Wilbert said.
His father nodded as he kept his eyes on Winona.
“Did you have a nickname in high school?” I asked Angelo. Of course, I knew it was The K-Man, I just wanted him to say it out loud.
“The K-Man. I don’t think anyone even knew my real name,” he said.
Wilbert, who had stood silent, laughed. “I get it K for Kevin and Man, shortened for Mandalari. Maybe I should be called The W-Man.”
Winona’s face seemed to deflate as her lips quivered. Then tears glistened in her eyes as she said, “Are you Cayman, as in my…?”
Wilbert jerked his head and looked back and forth between Winona and his father. As though watching a tennis match. “Are you kidding me, I just noticed we all have cleft chins,” Wilbert blurted out. “It’s like we’re—”
“Related,” K-man said.
Winona backed up a step, as though trying to get a better picture of K-man. “You mean that I’m your daughter?” Her voice sounded soft like a small child.
“Yes. I’ve thought so, too.” K-man shifted his stance.
“But why, why didn’t you find me?” Winona’s voice weak and pleading.
“I didn’t know about you. Really. Or I would have found you. When I saw you and Priscilla together this week, something inside of me clicked. Priscilla never told me about you. Ever. But I had this feeling, a father just knows.”
“Is this what I think it means—for real? I have a sister?” Wilbert jumped and tackle hugged Winona, almost toppling her over in his embrace.
K-man joined the group hug, his eyes full of tears.
My heart sang. My good deed was complete.
I left them and went in search of Gerald. The last time I’d seen him, he was the master of ceremony for the closing program.
Now that camp had wrapped up, it was time to confront him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
While I began my search for Gerald, I called José. I got his voice mail and left a message telling him I was going to talk to Gerald soon, and that I was at Armstrong in the lobby outside of the auditorium.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Gerald entering the auditorium. I followed him. Cracking the door open, as quietly as I could, I saw him walking down the aisle, then up the stairs to the stage. He disappeared behind the set.
I climbed the stairs to the sound and light booth, and turned on the stage mics. I figured if anything happened to me, I could scream and my voice would be amplified, hopefully drawing in someone from the lobby to help me.
I located him behind the stage, near a table gathering some papers.
He looked striking in his tux. I had to remind myself that he had moved to the number one spot on my suspect list, bumping Dwight down a notch. Although Dwight still got top billing for jerk of the year.
And as far as Gerald, truth be told, I never really liked bad boys. If my suspicions were correct, Gerald was the worst bad boy of all.
“You look lovely, Annie Mae.” He kissed my cheek.
My flesh prickled. I had to keep up the illusion that everything was okay. I couldn’t let him know I suspected him of murder, after all if he’d already killed twice, who was to say he couldn’t add me as a third victim?
“You look good, too.” I hoped that José would walk in any second. But I couldn’t wait any longer to right some wrongs. “It was a nice touch that Priscilla’s team won first place.”
“Yes, they really pulled off a great performance,” he said.
“With all things considered, how tragic it must’ve been for them to have their leader killed, then, still grieving from their loss, to have to compete without her direction.”
Gerald rubbed his temples. “I’m sure it was. But they rallied together and made the best of it.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I have to finish up a few things, you’re welcome to join me.”
I trailed him as he walked to center stage by the podium, where he grabbed a folder. Standing in front of him, the podium between us, I tapped my fingers on the wood, trying my best to act casual.
Adjusting my dress I said, “So, tonight’s the big night huh?”
His eyebrow rose. “For what?”
“For you.” I pointed at him. “You’re telling the police about what happened in sixty-nine. Remember?”
He flinched. “Yes, yes of course. Thank you for reminding me. I’ve been so immersed in the competition, I’d temporarily put that out of my mind.”
Okay, this would be a stretch but I had to lure him in, to force him to tell the truth. As I thought about what I’d say, my breathing and heart rate increased. The pounding in my ears was deafening. “So when you go to the police, you might want to make sure you tell them about the second shot.”
Gerald stiffened and adjusted his bowtie. “Second shot?” He whirled around and began a brisk walk toward backstage.
As
I shadowed him, risking it all, I let it go. “The first shot, the one that came from your car.”
He froze, his back to me. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. The only shot was from the store owner.”
“Funny, you told me earlier you couldn’t remember how many shots were fired, because you’d driven away.”
Gerald fidgeted with his shirt cuff. “One, there was only one.”
“Yes, that’s the story you apparently want me to believe.”
He spun around, his neck crimson. “What are you getting at, Annie Mae?”
“There were two shots. The witness, Priscilla, heard and saw, two shots. The first from your car,” I said in my most authoritative voice.
“Kids, huh? They sure have active imagination don’t they? I bet she heard an echo from the store owner’s gun being discharged. That’s all.” He puffed out his chest and exhaled. “And, Annie Mae, I’m surprised you’re questioning what I’d said to you about what happened. Don’t you know me by now?”
Hell no I don’t. “She saw a firecracker coming from the red car, and there was only one occupant in the car, and she said they wore an orange hat.”
He looked away. “She was mistaken. I mean, she was right about my hat, and my car. But no shots came from my car, heck I didn’t even have a gun.”
“But she was sure of it back then, she was very accurate,” I said.
“Why are you doing this? I thought you and I had something special. Here, you’re making me feel like a liar and a criminal. Don’t you trust me?” Gerald reached out and stroked my face.
I recoiled. “Gerald, here’s what I think happened. You planned the robbery that night. You got your buddy to go with you, and you had him do your dirty work. When you thought that he screwed up, you silenced him, permanently, by shooting him before you drove off. You just lucked out that the store owner also had a gun and fired as well.” I couldn’t stop myself, as my voice rose. “And this week, after seeing your picture, Priscilla remembered it all. She knew she had you over a barrel, so she threatened you.”
