by Leona Fox
“There just have been a few times when I feel like he's been avoiding certain subjects. He's been willing to talk about his depression, but when it comes to actual events in his life...he's not very forthcoming. Maybe this is why.”
“Well, he'll have to talk at some point if he wants us to catch whomever did this. Iris, I want you to call the station and see if there have been any recent signs of vandalism in town. From the looks of it this is directed at our friend here, but we'd better check just to be on the safe side,” Andy said. Iris walked off to the side and picked up her phone to dial the station, leaving Andy and Ellen alone.
“What else can you tell me?” he said.
“The paint was wet, suggesting the person has been here recently, definitely within the last couple of hours. I guess the best thing to do is ask around the neighborhood, see if anyone saw anything. But if I were the person who did this I would have waited for the sun to set then sneak up, which is what they seemed to have done. It's not like spray painting is loud. They could have done it without anyone noticing. But that does mean they probably knew Alexander would be out today, which suggests they've been around the cafe recently, and knew he had his trial shift today. Who knows? They may even have been in the cafe today, although I didn't notice Alexander acting strangely around anyone. But, like I said, I don't really know him all that well, unfortunately.”
At this point Iris came back and let them know there hadn't been any recent activity involving graffiti or any other kind of vandalism. Andy sighed and walked over to Alexander, introducing himself with a firm handshake. Alexander was shaken from his daze and shook Andy's hand weakly, then rose from his wall and stood up. Scampy wagged his tail as he saw Andy approach but Andy thought it best to keep things professional and not pet the dog while he was questioning a crime victim.
“I know Ellen's talked to you a little bit, but I just wanted to see if you've managed to think of any information that might help us. Can you think of any other instances where something like this has happened? Or maybe there was some kind of dispute or argument you've been involved in recently? It could be even a small thing, something you thought was innocuous at the time. Sometimes you don't know how people can react. They can hold grudges for the smallest of things.”
“I'm sorry, officer, but I really can't help you. I can't think of anyone who would want to do this to me. I've been minding my own business for the past couple of years. I can't think of a single person who would want to do this to me. Maybe some kids got the wrong house and this is all just some misunderstanding.”
“Maybe,” Andy said, looking at him skeptically.
“I suggest you take care and keep the doors locked. We'll try getting a crew down here to help you clean off the paint. Hopefully it's just a prank, but if you think of anything else that can help us don't hesitate to call. I think the best thing now is for all of us to go home and get some sleep. We can try figuring out who did this to you tomorrow,” Andy said.
Alexander nodded and bid farewell to Ellen. She was concerned by how distant he seemed as he walked in the door, momentarily fracturing the phrase that had been spray painted over his house, only for it to be completed again when he closed the door behind him.
“Let's spit up and go knocking on doors, that's about all we can do for now,” Andy said, and for a time he, Ellen, and Iris went around the neighborhood to ask if anyone had seen anything out of the ordinary.
However, nobody had. The neighbors seemed to be oblivious to anything that was happening, and they were none too pleased at being disturbed at such a late hour. When asked about Alexander they said he mostly kept to himself and sometimes it was easy to forget he was there at all, which ended the vague suspicion that the perpetrator of the crime was a disgruntled neighbor.
“So where do we go from here?” Iris asked.
Ellen chewed her bottom lip, something that Andy knew she did only when she had something on her mind. “What's up?” he asked.
“I think I might know somebody who wasn't too fond of Alexander, but I'd prefer to talk to them myself. I'll call you when I'm done,” she said, and squeezed Andy's arm, giving him a kiss as she got back in her car. Iris moved beside Andy.
“Sir,” she said, “I hate to remind you of this, but the correct procedure is that one of us be present if she's going to question a witness.”
“I know, but Ellen tends to make her own procedure, and I trust her with whatever she's doing,” he said, then turned away and drove back to the station.
Meanwhile, Ellen drove to Pippa's house and knocked on the door, hating the idea of accusing Pippa. They already had had an unpleasant encounter earlier in the day, and Ellen didn't want to risk alienating anyone else, not like she had done with Maggie. However, Pippa was the only person she knew for sure had any disdain for Alexander. Furthermore, if anyone was going to hear anything about vandals it was going to be Pippa. Ellen knocked on the door and waited a few moments. Behind the door she heard Pippa yell for someone to get it, then heard aggravated footsteps stomp toward the door. She looked surprised when she saw Ellen standing there.
“I'm sorry it's so late, but I wonder if I could come and speak to you about something?” Ellen said.
“Sure, it's not like anyone else around here talks to me,” Pippa said pointedly, raising her voice so that other people in the house would hear.
She led Ellen through to the kitchen. As they passed the lounge Ellen saw Pippa's husband lounging on the sofa scratching his belly, eyes locked on the television. Upstairs she heard the scuffling of feet and imagined it was Pippa's youngest. There was no sign of the other one, but given that there were just three plates drying next to the sink Ellen concluded that Pippa's daughter was out with a friend, or possibly on a date.
The room smelled of detergent and the washing machine was crashing around, clothes dancing in the suds. It was a well-kept house, and the mess was just the mess of the family, the mess of life, signs that people actually lived there. Not like Ellen's house, which was always so tidy. Some people even had remarked that it was like a museum, like one of those houses they restored as an example of a typical house from the past.
“Would you like a drink?” Pippa offered. Ellen asked for some water, deciding to keep it simple for she did not know how Pippa was going to react.
“Listen, I'm sorry for before. I didn't mean to sound so spiteful. I guess I just had it in my head you were going to offer me the job and it was a bit of a shock when you didn't,” Pippa said as she handed the glass to Ellen and gestured to a seat.
Ellen pulled out a seat around the round wooden table. The surface was smooth, aside from the stains of dropped food that had dried and would now require some elbow grease to remove.
“Apology accepted,” Ellen said, smiling.
“I did actually pop in to talk about Alexander, but it's a little delicate.”
“Oohh! What is it?” Pippa said, leaning forward, an excited smile appearing on her face and her eyes gleaming in anticipation of some juicy gossip.
“Well,” Ellen continued, somewhat reluctantly because she had the feeling she was luring Pippa into a trap even though that was not her intention.
“I dropped him home after work and we found somebody had sprayed graffiti over his door, rather rude words that I don't feel comfortable repeating, especially not here when young children could hear,” she said, glancing over her shoulder, just in case the child had entered the room.
“That's awful. Do you have any idea who did it?”
“Not really, and right now, to be honest, the only person who we know for sure doesn't like Alexander is, well...is you.”
It took a few moments for Pippa to understand what Ellen was saying. Her face scrunched up and then she scowled, and her voice lowered.
“First you don't offer me the job, and then you come in here and accuse me of being a criminal! What kind of person are you?”
“I'm sorry. I just have to make these inquiries. I'm not accusing
you of anything. I'm just trying to find out who did this. It's obviously someone who didn't like him and you had a reason, and given what you said to me today I'm sure you can see why I have to ask you.”
Pippa looked as though she was going to explode and Ellen braced herself for an onslaught of strong language, but with a sigh Pippa relaxed into her chair and smiled.
“I guess I did come off as pretty angry earlier. Yes, I was angry at him, but to be honest, and don't take this the wrong way, I was more angry at you for giving him the job. So if I was going to vandalize anyone's house it would have been yours.”
Ellen's eyebrows lifted in surprise and took a sip of her drink, for she did not know what else to do. Pippa continued, “But I really wouldn't know where to start with spray painting. You can ask my husband, if you like. I have no artistic talent whatsoever. After I left the cafe I've been here all day. Doesn't he have any idea who did it?”
Ellen shook her head, “At least he's not saying anything, even if he does. I know you said there was no gossip about him, but surely you must have heard something over the years?”
Pippa drew in some breath. “I didn't say I'd never heard anything about him, I just said that nobody was talking about him. To be honest, even then I don't know much. He's the kind of person who always keeps himself to himself and he seems a bit of a loner. He should have gotten over his break-up a long time ago. He doesn't have things that bad, but he goes around acting like the world has it out for him. I'd like to see him try living my life for a day. Then he'd know what hard work is. You try having a husband who lives in front of the television and a daughter who doesn't tell you where she's going,” as she said this last part her eyes glanced toward the clock, but Ellen's ears had pricked up at the mention of the break-up.
“Break up? Who was he with?”
“Some woman called Stephanie Howler. And no, before you ask, I don't know the specifics of how it ended, just that it was pretty rough. But if you're looking for someone whose emotions ran high when it came to Alexander then you should probably look at her.”
Ellen had much to think about as she thanked Pippa and left. She made a quick call to Kelly, who met with her at Alexander's house. It was late at night, but since Kelly was an artist she kept odd hours and usually was willing to meet Ellen when she called. They didn't bother knocking on the door or disturbing Alexander, they just looked at the paint.
“Can you tell me anything specific about it?” Ellen asked.
“You know, I just use it to paint. I'm not exactly a connoisseur,” Kelly said as they walked up the narrow path toward the door.
“You know more than the rest of us,” Ellen replied.
The two women stood outside the door and Kelly looked at the paint. She dabbed it with her finger and smelled it, then rummaged through her bag and brought out a paintbrush, catching some of the wet paint on the end and seeing how it smeared. She had a thoughtful look on her face the entire time, and when she was finished she turned to Ellen.
“Well, in my expert opinion this paint is the standard kind, the kind you would find in any general store that sold paint supplies. I hope that helps,” she said.
“Not really,” Ellen replied, and the two of them walked back down the path and returned to the car.
“So are you regretting hiring him yet?” Kelly asked.
“No, actually I'm glad I did because he's going to have to come into work and I can try finding out more about him, about who possibly could want to do this. Apparently, he had a bad break up but I'm wondering what the story was behind it. Maybe there has been something else that's happened over the years that's finally coming to a head.”
As Ellen lay in bed that night her mind whirred with possibilities. She also realized that it meant Alexander was going to be thrown in at the deep end, as he would be left on his own while she tried to solve the mystery. When she met him the following morning he still was subdued and lacked the spark of the previous day.
“Are you sure you're okay to work today? I need to go ask around a few places to see if we can get more information about who might have done this.”
“You really don't need to,” he said, surprising Ellen.
“I'm sure it was just some kids or someone playing a prank. That'll probably be the end of it. You don't have to take it any further.”
“I have to say I'm a little surprised. Your home was vandalized and you don't want to know who did it?”
“It's just a building,” Alexander shrugged, but that only made Ellen more intrigued.
“Well, I think in this case the police may not have to pursue the case if you're not going to press charges against the people who did it...but I'm not the police and I don't want my assistant manager's safety threatened...or my friend's,” she said, lowering her voice and squeezing his arm, smiling with concern. Alexander returned the weak smile.
“It's been a long time since I've had a friend,” he said, and then sighed.
“And from what I know already there's no way to change your mind. So I guess the only thing for me to do is to look after the cafe. Yes, I'm sure I'll be able to handle it. If anything does come up that I'm not sure about I'll give you a call.”
“Sure thing, it's pretty simple really. You did everything yesterday and you seem to be a quick learner. So I doubt you'll have any problems. I'll pop in later on in the day and check on you, see if you need a hand.”
With that settled she left the cafe, and also told Scampy to stay to help Alexander. The dog blinked at her and did as he was told. As Ellen left she was glad she was able to leave the cafe with someone who actually was paid to be there rather than relying on the kind hearts of volunteers. It was one less thing to worry about, and made her feel more secure about the future, especially when she walked past Maggie's and saw the rival business thriving.
A few stores in town sold paint. So she went to each of them to see if any of the owners or employees remembered anyone buying paint, but all of them didn't have any help to offer. They had a lot of customers, they said, and if they made note of everyone who bought everything, there wouldn't be room in their heads for anything else. Ellen considered asking them for footage from the security cameras but it wasn't even definite that the paint was brought recently. Their footage only went back to the last week before it was erased. She wasn't too disappointed since it was a long shot anyway, but it would have made things much easier if it had paid off.
Chapter 4
After looking up the address, Ellen made her way to Stephanie Howler's house. Earlier she had debated if she should tell Alexander she was going to pay a visit to his ex, and had decided against it. If the breakup had been as rough as Pippa suggested, Ellen felt it would not be worth mentioning it to him since he probably had spent a great deal of energy trying to forget her. She did not want to do anything to plunge him back into depression.
Stephanie lived surprisingly close to Alexander, which would make it easy for her to make the trip and vandalize the house. It wasn't damning evidence by any means but it was something to keep in mind. Stephanie lived in an apartment building, and her apartment was located on the third floor. Ellen pushed open the gate, walked up the stairs, and knocked the door. Stephanie opened the door with a friendly smile, although she held it ajar and stood with her body covering the opening, ready to slam the door in case anything bad happened. She had red hair and looked perky, with a thin rail-like body and eyes that sparkled with mischief. Her hair was pulled back in a long ponytail and she wore a black tank top and jeans, and a white sweater was tied around her waist. From the inside of the apartment Ellen could hear the soft sounds of television voices. From the sounds of it, Stephanie was watching a talk show.
“Can I help you with something?” Stephanie asked.
“Actually, I'm hoping you can. I'm Ellen Thatch and I work with the police on some crimes.”
“Yes, I've heard of you,” Stephanie said, smiling slyly.
Ellen blushed a little. It was strange bei
ng recognized for her work, especially since it was more beneficial for her if people didn't know who she was.
“What crime are you investigating?”
“Do you mind if I come in? It's a little less formal if we’re sitting down.”
Stephanie considered it for a moment and then opened the door, showing Ellen through to the front room, which was kept neatly. There was a coffee table with a few books, one of which was about finding love in the modern world, and fitness magazines were strewn across the table. There were paintings hanging on the walls but none of family or friends. Perhaps these were kept in the bedroom, Ellen thought.
“You have a nice place,” Ellen commented as she took a seat on the beige leather sofa.
Stephanie picked up the remote and turned off the television, thanked Ellen, and offered her a drink. Ellen kindly declined the offer. Stephanie took a seat at the opposite end of the couch and turned her body toward Ellen, crossing her legs and placing her arm on the armrest. Her body language didn't suggest someone who was guilty or had anything to hide.
“So what's this about? There hasn't been a murder at the office has there?”
“Not that I know of. It's actually about Alexander, Alexander Sparks.”
At the mention of his name Stephanie's face fell and contorted with anger. The friendliness was replaced with contempt. She shifted her body so it was more closed off, and leaned forward.
“What about him?” she said, her voice laced with spite.
Ellen paused for a moment to let the news sink in, and to plan out what she was going to say next. She had to be careful not to draw Stephanie's ire so much that she threw Ellen out of the apartment. After all, Stephanie was under no legal obligation to talk to Ellen or give her any information whatsoever.
“Last night his home was vandalized. Someone, or a group of people, spray painted his house with horrible curse words and he doesn't seem to know who would want to do a thing like that.”
“That's Alexander for you. He never talks about anything you want,” she said, and her eyes shifted to the side as she relived old arguments that had raged between them.
