Fugitive Filling

by Jessica Beck

  The problem was, Chief Grant knew about them as well.

  “Why don’t you play that message again?” he suggested.

  I did, twice as a matter of fact. After it ended the second time, I said, “Beats me. There’s something familiar about it, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “At least you’re doing better than I am, because I don’t recognize the voice at all,” Jake admitted. “If he’d been speaking in a calm voice, it might have been easier to tell who it was, but he seemed pretty upset, didn’t he?”

  “I’m not really all that surprised. I would think that Teresa got those kind of calls on a regular basis,” I said.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “She was a lawyer, Jake. Given the quality of her general clientele, I’m guessing that civility was usually at a minimum.”

  “I’m not so sure you’re being a hundred percent fair about that. Don’t forget, innocent people need attorneys sometimes, too.”

  “You’re right. It just seemed to me that Teresa wasn’t that kind of lawyer. Then again, maybe my attitude toward her has been tainted by her behavior toward you since she first came to town.”

  “I’m not saying she was right to do what she did, but you can’t condemn her for the class of her clients. Let’s get back to that message. It’s one thing being angry with your opponent’s attorney, but it’s a whole new level to actually kill her just because of a lawsuit.”

  “It’s still a possibility, though. Until we figure out who left that message, we’ve got two names and three clues,” I said as I closed up my phone. “That’s not bad, considering that we’ve just gotten started.”

  “It’s not exactly good, either.”

  “Don’t you think you’re being a little too hard on us?” I asked my husband.

  “Maybe. You have to remember that when I was a cop, I had access to everything pertinent to the case the moment it was discovered. We’re in the dark about a great deal involving this case. I admit it; I’m frustrated.”

  “Welcome to my world,” I said as I gently touched his shoulder. “I know that we’re on the outside looking in, but that gives us an advantage, as well.”

  “What’s that?” he asked, clearly not believing me for an instant.

  “We don’t have to follow the same rules that you did when you were a part of law enforcement,” I answered with a grin.

  “I’m not breaking into someone’s house, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” Jake said with a frown.

  “I wasn’t, but I would even go that far if I thought it was important enough,” I told him. “We need this case solved just as much as the April Springs police department does. The worst thing that could happen to us would be if the killer were never caught. Besides, we’re not just doing this for our sakes; there’s also the need for justice to be served, not to mention honoring Teresa Logan’s memory. I might not have been the woman’s biggest fan, but she deserved better than she got.”

  “So, do you have any suggestions as to what we should do after we speak with Joe and Becky?” Jake asked me. He clearly was at a loss on how to operate from this side of the law, and I felt a little sorry for him.

  “Absolutely. We need to dig into Teresa’s life a little deeper than we have so far. She’s made quite an impression on the people of April Springs during her short time here. Somebody in town knows something about her personal life. I guarantee it.”

  “I don’t doubt it, but how do we find out who to even speak with?”

  “It’s not going to be easy. We just start asking questions and see what kinds of answers we get.”

  “But that’s going to wait until we speak with Teresa’s last two appointments, right?” Jake asked.

  “By all means. Let’s go have a chat with Joe and Becky.” Jake frowned at me for a moment. “What’s wrong?” I asked him.

  “I don’t like the way this whole thing feels. We promised Stephen that we wouldn’t go behind his back anymore, and we still haven’t asked him for his permission to conduct those particular interviews.”

  “I’m not suggesting that we do,” I said. “Jake, is there any doubt in your mind that he has already spoken with both of them by now?”

  “There’s not a chance that hasn’t already happened. It’s what any good cop would do, and despite the fact that he’s a little young, Stephen Grant is a good cop.”

  “Then if he’s had his first interview with each of them, he might not mind if we took our turn.”

  “Suzanne, do you think there’s one chance in a hundred that he’d actually approve of that?”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” I said as I stood. “Let’s go ask him. This is a little too delicate to handle over the phone.”

  “That sounds good to me, but there’s something else we need to do first.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “We have to send our photos from our cell phones to the computer at home. That way, if the chief does decide to take them from us and make us delete our copies, we’ll have backups there.”

  “Do you really think he might do that?”

  “Suzanne, I’m just trying to plan for the unexpected. If we make the backups and he doesn’t say anything about the photos, then we haven’t lost anything. If he decides to make it an issue though, we’ll be covered.”

  “Then let’s do it. You’re going to have to show me how to do it, though.”

  After a few trial-and-error moments, we had our photographic records backed up on our home computer. Jake was right. It was a good contingency plan. I still hoped that we wouldn’t have to use it, though. If Chief Grant made us delete the images we’d taken of the crime scene, it most likely meant that he’d lost trust in us and our ability to work on this case together.

  Chief Grant was at his desk, leaning back in his chair and frowning into space. Jake knocked on his door after getting permission to pass through upon signing us both in on the ledger.

  “Is this a bad time?” my husband asked the police chief.

  “Yes. No. I guess what I mean is that it’s as good a time as any. Come on in,” he said.

  “That’s not what I’d call a definitive answer,” I said as we stayed outside.

  “You’re both more than welcome to come in. I was just mulling over the two interviews I just conducted, trying to figure out how I could have handled them better. To say that they were unproductive would be an understatement.”

  “Who did you interview?” Jake asked before I could admit that we wanted a shot at his two reticent subjects. Jake knew full well who the police chief had spoken to, but by asking a simple question, he’d still managed to tell a lie. It was an interesting thing to see in action.

  “As if you didn’t already know. You both saw the appointment book, didn’t you? Of course you did,” Chief Grant said, and then he shook his head slightly. “Why wouldn’t you? The appointment book was open, and it was kind of hard to miss.”

  “We saw that Joe Chastain and Becky Rusch both had appointments with Teresa last night,” I acknowledged, without telling him that I had been the one who had opened it to the one page we needed to see. It was an interesting way to hold a conversation, finding new ways to obfuscate the truth. I was a little sad that we were deceiving our friend, but I couldn’t bring myself to come right out and admit that I’d been the one who’d opened the book in the first place.

  “And now I’m betting that you two want to talk to them yourselves, is that it?” He was dead on the money, but he didn’t look too happy about it.

  “Would you mind if we gave it a try?” Jake asked. “We can approach them from a different angle than you were able to. What do you have to lose?”

  “Just my job, my dignity, and my hope of ever being gainfully employed in law enforcement ever again,” Chief Grant said. “Why not? You can’t do any worse than I
did.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I said. “It’s an extremely difficult job.”

  “I realize that more and more every day. I just hate it when folks won’t cooperate when I ask them simple questions that should be easy to answer,” he said with a grin.

  “I can relate to that,” Jake said.

  “Somehow I kind of doubt that,” the police chief said with a wry smile. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t always get what you were looking for the first time out.”

  “Take my word for it; I’ve been just as frustrated by the lack of cooperation as you are right now. If you’re sure you don’t mind, Suzanne and I would love to interview both of them.”

  “Do you need any information from me about either one of them?” Stephen asked as he leaned forward to check his report.

  “We’ve got it covered,” I said quickly, not quite again lying but not telling the complete truth, either.

  “You were taking pictures when I showed up at the office,” the chief said. “No doubt you took a few photos of the page in question.” There was no question, just a statement of fact.

  “We did, along with some other things,” Jake readily admitted. I didn’t like where this was going, but we had to play it out as honestly as we could at this point. I didn’t mind skirting the truth if I had to, but I wasn’t going to lie directly to the police chief, particularly not about anything directly involving an active murder case, and I knew that Jake wasn’t about to do it, either.

  “What did you get?” the new chief asked hesitantly. “Was there anything of interest that you’d care to share with me?”

  Jake grinned. “I didn’t want to volunteer anything, but I was really hoping you’d ask.” He pulled out his phone and brought up the pictures he’d taken at the crime scene. Skipping through them, he landed on the one we’d both studied so carefully earlier and said, “I tried to get a good shot of that heel print, but my camera couldn’t pick it up.”

  “We got something better than that, but it was ruined when we tried to preserve it.”

  “Can you at least tell if a man or a woman made it?” I asked.

  The chief shrugged. “All we can say for sure was that it was from some kind of work boot. We can’t even gauge the size, but we’re going on the assumption that it was made by a man.”

  “Women wear work boots, too, you know,” I said.

  “Of course they do. We’re not going to discount that possibility, either, but I think that we can all agree that the majority of people who wear them are men. What else have you got?”

  “Show him the picture you took that’s been baffling us,” Jake urged me, so I grabbed my phone and I pulled up the label I’d found by the desk.

  “Chief, do you have any idea what that is?”

  “It’s from a box of power bars,” he said with a nod. “We found that, too. Evidently Teresa bought a case of the things yesterday, and the label came off. We found the rest of the label, along with the box, in the office closet.”

  We hadn’t even had time to search there! So that explained that. Or did it? “Do you happen to know if she ordered them online, or did she buy them at the grocery store?” I asked.

  Chief Grant looked surprised by the question. “I have no idea. Why does it matter?”

  Jake got it right away. “If they were from the grocery store, then Bobby Wells could have brought them to her, which would put him in her office sometime around the murder.”

  “I’ll look into it,” he said as he jotted down a quick note. “Thanks.”

  “We’re more than happy to help. How’s your investigation going?” It was an innocent enough question, but I held my breath waiting for his response. I figured he could yell at us, ignore us, or there was even a slight chance that he’d tell us something we didn’t already know. Thankfully Jake stayed out of it.

  Stephen smiled. “I’m not quite sure that I’m ready to share that much with you two at the moment.”

  At least it was better than a scolding. “I get that, but if you change your mind, you know where to find us,” I said.

  Jake stood and offered the chief his hand. “Thanks for the green light on our interviews.”

  “At this point, what can it hurt, right?” he asked as he took it.

  “I’m sure we’ll see you soon,” I said with a grin.

  “There’s no doubt in my mind.”

  “Suzanne, you pushed him a little in there, didn’t you?” Jake asked me the second we were back in my Jeep. I didn’t have to ask him what he was referring to.

  “I figured, what could it hurt? The chief seemed to be in a giving mood. After all, he’s letting us talk to Joe Chastain and Becky Rusch.”

  “I know, but it had to cost him something to allow it. Did you ever consider stopping while we were ahead?” my husband asked me with a laugh.

  “It never even crossed my mind,” I said with a big grin. “Do you still want to tackle Becky first?”

  Instead of answering my question directly, my husband said, “Normally, I’ve always believed in handling the toughest interview first.”

  “So then we speak with Joe?” I asked.

  “Funny, but I don’t think he’s the hardest one we have to talk to. I understand men like him, but Becky Rusch’s road rage is something I’m having trouble wrapping my head around.”

  “Then it’s Becky after all,” I said, starting off in the direction of her place.

  “No, it’s Joe,” he corrected me.

  I turned around the moment I got the chance. “Make up your mind, sir.”

  “I never got a chance to tell you what my thoughts were,” he countered. “We do this in order, and since Joe’s appointment was first, he’s the logical one to start with.”

  “Oh, if you’re going to start trotting out logic, then I don’t stand a chance.” I knew that Joe Chastain worked at a body shop on the edge of town, so that was the way I started driving. “How are we going to handle this? Are we going to pretend that my Jeep needs a facelift?” I asked.

  Jake looked surprised to hear the idea. “No, I thought we’d just come right out and ask him about his meeting with his attorney last night.”

  “We can try, but it might not work. We can’t force anyone to talk to us, remember?”

  “Maybe not, but I have a feeling that he’s going to want to cooperate.”

  “Why do you think that?” I asked as we neared our first suspect’s place of employment.

  “I don’t know. Folks just seem to want to open up to me,” Jake answered.

  He wasn’t kidding. “Did you ever think that it might be because you carried a gun?”

  “I’m sure that had a little to do with it, but I never had to use it to get a statement out of someone.”

  “Be my guest, then. I’d love to see you in action.”

  Jake wasn’t sure what to make of my statement, and maybe he was right, but I had a hunch that without any authority backing him up, he might have just as hard a time getting answers as Grace and I usually did.

  One thing was certain: we were about to find out.

  Chapter 6

  At least the body shop wasn’t busy.

  I spotted Joe over to one side and told Jake, “He’s over there eating a bag of chips.” The repairman had on a pair of dirty overalls and heavy work boots that left a track of red clay dirt wherever he stepped. Had he left a similar trail the night before in the attorney’s office? Even if he had, it didn’t necessarily mean that he’d killed her, but if he tried to deny that he’d even been there, it might be something we could use against him later.

  Jake nodded and started off. As he headed for the man, I followed along. There was no way I was going to miss this.

  “You’re Joe Chastain, aren’t you?” Jake asked in an officious voice.

  “Who wants to know
?” Joe replied, clearly unimpressed so far.

  “We need to ask you a few questions about Teresa Logan,” Jake said rather formally.

  “You a cop? You look like a cop to me,” Joe said with a scowl.

  “I used to be,” Jake admitted.

  “But you’re not anymore,” Joe replied. “I hate cops.” Chastain wadded up his bag and threw it toward a nearby trashcan, hitting the floor instead. I had to fight the urge to pick it up and throw it away properly for him.

  “Like I said, I’m not one anymore.”

  “Then I’ve got nothing to say to you. I already spoke to the police chief, but I didn’t have much choice, did I?”

  “He gave us his permission to follow up with you,” Jake said. I could tell that he was beginning to get a little frustrated by the man’s lack of cooperation. I wanted to step in to see if I could expedite the interview, but this was something Jake needed to see for himself. Besides, I doubted that Joe would have been any more cooperative with me than he was being with my husband, though I didn’t have the weight of being a former police officer against me.

  “Good for him,” the man said. “The problem is that I don’t have time to monkey around with you two.” He glanced at me and added, “Shouldn’t you be somewhere making donuts?”

  “The shop’s closed at the moment,” I said with a smile. I regretted giving Emma our last donuts earlier. Maybe I would have been able to use them to bribe Joe into answering a few of our questions. It had worked with others in the past.

  “Well, mine isn’t,” Joe said with contempt. “I’m busy, and even if I wasn’t, customers aren’t allowed back here.”

  “That works out fine, because we’re not customers,” Jake said, standing his ground.

  The body shop repairman didn’t like that one little bit. “Listen, I’ve already told you once, so I’m not going to say it again. I’ve got nothing to say to you.”