A.L. Jambor - Where's Audrey?

by A. L. Jambor

  “I didn’t check that. Wait.”

  Penny went back to her desk. She looked up registrations under Audrey’s name. “She was due on her birthday, September 2, but she didn’t apply. Let me look up the VIN.” Penny searched for registrations by vehicle identification number. “The car is registered to a Jason Frye. Do you know him?”

  “Shit,” Mel said. “He’s got her car.”

  “What about her mobile home registration?” Conner asked. “Can you find it with her name?”

  “I should be able to,” Penny said. Penny typed for several minutes. “I got it.” She then typed some more. “It was transferred to the same guy, Jason Frye. He’s the registered owner of the mobile home.”

  “But how can that be? It’s an over fifty-five park.”

  Penny did another search. “According to this, Jason Frye is sixty-two-years-old.”

  “Bullshit he is,” Mel said.

  “He’s a kid, Penny. There’s no way he’s sixty-two.”

  “He would have had to get the park’s approval before the transfer of ownership,” Penny said. “That would mean a credit check. I know because I just moved my mom into that park. They are pretty careful about who gets in.”

  “Thanks, Penny. I’ll bring you a mocha Frappuccino the next time I come in.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” Penny said with a smile. “I just thought of something.” She went back to her desk.

  “That son of a bitch stole her house and her car,” Mel said. “We can’t let him get away with this.”

  Penny printed something out. “I printed out the title. The original with Audrey’s name on it. It has both signatures on it.” She brought it over and gave it to Conner.

  “Can you print out a copy of her DL with the signature on it?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Penny said, going back to her desk. She found it, printed it out, and brought it to him. He and Mel looked at it.

  “That’s not Audrey’s signature,” Mel said. “It’s totally different from the one on her license.”

  “That would be fraud,” Penny said.

  “Thanks for your help,” Conner said.

  “Anytime.”

  They left the courthouse and got into the car. Mel was fuming. She wanted to hang Jason by his testicles. Conner was comparing signatures on the driver’s license and the title transfers.

  “You’re right,” Conner said. “Your aunt didn’t sign this title transfer.”

  Mel looked at them again. The signature on the driver’s license looked similar to Grace’s handwriting, neat and perfectly executed. The signature on the title transfers looked like Mel’s, sloppy and illegible. At a glance, she knew her aunt hadn’t signed them.

  Chapter 8

  Conner was keeping his true thoughts about Audrey to himself. He remembered finding an older Jason Frye and knew he had to be the one who signed the titles. As they sat in the sheriff’s parking lot, Conner scrolled through the “Who’s in Jail” page on the sheriff’s website. The older one was sixty-two. The other was thirty. Both had been in jail on possession charges. He assumed they were father and son, and the elder Frye had helped the younger swindle Audrey out of her home and car. He jotted down the address for the older Frye.

  “What’s the plan?” Mel asked.

  “We are going to find Jason Frye.”

  “We already did.”

  “The other one. The older one.”

  “You think there is another one?” she asked.

  “I know there is.” He showed her his phone. “I think they’re father and son.”

  “It would make more sense. Audrey might go for a guy over sixty. But why isn’t he living in her house? Everyone I talked to said the younger guy has been living with her.”

  “That’s what I want to find out.”

  They got out of the car and went inside to his desk. She sat in the chair in front of his desk while he did a search for Jason Frye, Sr. He had been bailed out of jail in 2011. Conner couldn’t find any more information on him.

  “You got that printout Penny gave you?”

  “Yeah,” she said. She pulled it out of her purse and handed it to him.

  “The transaction was in 2013. The back of the title is signed. We need something with the younger Frye’s signature.”

  “His driver’s license would have it.”

  “I forgot to ask Penny for that. ”

  She slumped a bit in the seat.

  “It’s gonna be all right,” he said.

  “Do you think he…hurt her?”

  Conner hesitated. “I never jump to conclusions.”

  “Even when they are slapping you in the face?”

  “Especially then.”

  She sighed. “I just want to know what happened to her. I don’t believe she’s on any cruise.”

  Conner again put his hand on hers.

  “I’ve done these kinds of cases before. It’s very possible she did go on a cruise. Don’t give up on her yet.”

  Mel nodded, but the feeling in her gut didn’t go away.

  Conner turned on the engine. He didn’t put the car in gear, though.

  “Where are we going now?” she asked.

  “I’m hungry,” he said.

  “So do you want to get something to eat?”

  “Do you mind?”

  “No. I’ll eat something.”

  He took her to a taco place on Starkey Road. The tacos were huge and tasted good. Mel kept looking at Conner. He was a nice guy. He was good looking. Too bad he lived in Florida.

  “Both Jason and his father were arrested for possession. I didn’t see that either of them did any jail time, so they must have pled out at arraignment and were sentenced to probation and fines.”

  “Was that the only time they were arrested?”

  “In Pinellas County. I didn’t find either of them on the FDLE website. That means they didn’t go to prison.” He wiped his mouth. “I want to know where the dad is.”

  “He would have had to be around to get the title changed over, right? The people in the park office would have wanted to see him, wouldn’t they?”

  “You’d think so. But these guys may be slick enough to fool them, too.”

  “The woman I met in the office had to be seventy. They might have caught her off-guard.”

  “Is she the one who signs the leases?”

  “I don’t think so. She wasn’t the manager. She did know how the rent was being paid, though.”

  “She probably covers the office for the manager. We gotta talk to them.” He looked at her empty wrapper. “You finished?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  They got into his car and she sighed.

  “I keep seeing her in a hospital, or nursing home.”

  “They would have contacted her family.”

  “Would they? What if Jason took her there? What if she was unconscious and he gave them her emergency contacts?”

  Conner would be glad if they found Audrey in a nursing home. At least she would be alive.

  “Be glad if we find her that way,” he said.

  “What other way…oh. I can’t think about that.”

  “We forgot to get something else from Penny.”

  “What?”

  “A copy of the new titles. The ones showing Jason Frye as the owner. We’re closer to the DMV. We can stop there and I’ll get copies.”

  The DMV was crowded. They got a number and waited until it was called. They went to the desk and Conner smiled at the woman and flashed his badge.

  “I was wondering if you could help me,” he said.

  “In an official capacity?” the woman asked. Her name badge said “Connie.”

  “Ah, yes. I need current titles for someone named Jason Frye.”

  She began to type. “Is there a middle name?”

  He went back to Jason, Jr.’s mug shot on his phone. “John.”

  She typed for a minute. “July 8, 1952.”

  “That’s the father,�
� Mel said.

  “Wait, there’s two,” Connie said. “The other one is January 5, 1980.”

  “Are they both on the title?” Conner asked.

  “No. And I can’t tell which one did the transfer,” Connie said. “The middle initial is the same, and the title doesn’t have junior or senior listed.”

  “Shit,” Mel said under her breath.

  “What’s the address on their DLs?” Conner asked.

  She typed. “It’s the same on both.”

  Connie printed out the information and slid it across the desk. The address was the same as Audrey’s mobile home.

  “Does that tell you when they got them?”

  “Date of issue is September 2,” Connie said.

  “Didn’t Penny say that was when the registration was due?” Mel asked.

  “Didn’t they need some sort of ID to register the home?” Conner asked.

  “Yes, they would have to show their driver’s license or a utility bill with their name on it, but not for the seller, only for the buyer.”

  “Can you print the original paperwork they brought in?” Mel asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Connie said. Conner smiled.

  “It would really help us,” he said.

  “Ah, okay.” Connie scrolled through the papers Jason Frye brought in when he registered the home. They had been scanned into the computer. She printed out the application and a copy of a driver’s license.

  Conner and Mel looked at the signature at the bottom of the application and the signature on the driver’s license. Jason Frye, Jr. had signed the application. Now they knew it was Jason, Jr. who had forged Audrey’s signature on the title transfer.

  “We may have probable cause for a warrant,” Conner said.

  “Really?” Mel said.

  “Really. Can I have a copy of the older Frye’s DL?”

  Connie printed out a copy of the older Frye’s driver’s license and slid it across the desk.

  After they left the DMV, Conner was quiet. He was going over the clues in his head. If he had doubts about whether Audrey was dead or alive before, he didn’t anymore.

  “I can’t believe they got away with this,” Mel said.

  “They haven’t yet,” Conner said. “I’m still wondering where the old man is. I didn’t see him at the home the other day.”

  “Me either.”

  When they got to the car, Conner took out the paperwork they had just collected and looked at all the signatures.

  “There are two distinctly different signatures,” he said. “The kid signed as Audrey.”

  “Let’s go talk to the manager of the park. They would have had to meet the man buying the home, right? To see if he was old enough?”

  “And the lease would have his signature on it. Good thinking.”

  Mel blushed and smiled. She was warming up to Conner in a big way.

  The lobby in the park office had been decorated for the season and a large Christmas tree stood in the center. Mel hadn’t noticed it the day before and when she saw it, she sighed.

  “I wish I was home for Christmas,” she said. “My grandmother will miss me.”

  “Maybe we’ll get this wrapped up by then,” Conner said.

  There was another older woman sitting at the desk.

  “Can I help you?” she said.

  “Can I speak to the manager?” Mel asked.

  “Maybe I can help you,” the woman said.

  “No, I have to see the manager.”

  The woman frowned and pushed herself away from the desk. She made a show of getting up, grunting and sighing, then walked to a door. She went inside, then came back and sat down.

  “Give her a minute,” she said.

  Mel and Conner stood in front of the desk until a younger woman appeared at the door to the office.

  “Hi,” she said. “I’m Nancy. How can I help you?”

  “Can we go into your office?” Conner asked. He flashed his badge.

  “Sure.”

  She took them to her office and closed the door. There were two chairs in front of another gray metal desk and they sat while she took her seat behind it.

  “Now,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

  “My aunt owns a home here. Her name is Audrey Glenn. We haven’t heard from her in a while, and now I found some guy living in her house.”

  “Really,” Nancy said. “Which number?”

  “298,” Mel said.

  Nancy typed and pulled up the info for 298. “That home is owned by a Jason Frye. This lists the previous owner as Audrey Glenn.”

  “When did she sell the trailer?” Conner asked.

  “They are manufactured homes,” Nancy said, with a slight edge in her voice.

  “When did she sell the home?” he said.

  “September. I’ve only been here for two months. My predecessor handled the transaction. She didn’t keep very good records, which is why she no longer works here. I’ve spent a lot of time cleaning things up.”

  “Have you met Jason Frye?” Mel asked. “He’s like thirty.”

  “That’s impossible,” Nancy said. “Even the former manager couldn’t have allowed a man that age to sign a lease. The actual owner has to be over fifty-five.”

  “But does that mean someone under fifty-five can live there alone?”

  “No. Unless it was temporary. We have rules. Even a widow under fifty-five has to leave, unless she’s close to fifty-five. We have made some exceptions, but they’re rare.”

  “I’ve got news for you, lady,” Mel said. “That guy is living there alone and he’s not fifty-five.”

  Conner put a hand on Mel, who looked as if she wanted to grab Nancy by the throat.

  “Do you have a copy of the lease Jason Frye signed?” Conner asked.

  Nancy pushed herself away from her desk and rolled over to a filing cabinet directly behind her. She looked through some files and found the lease for 298. She rolled back to the desk and handed it to Conner. He pulled out the driver’s licenses for the Fryes and compared them to the lease.

  “It’s the old man,” he said. “He signed the lease.”

  “Have you ever met Jason Frye?” Mel asked Nancy.

  “No, I’m afraid not. I’ve been so busy since taking over I haven’t had a chance to meet all the residents. There are over six hundred, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t know. Thank you for telling me.”

  “Can I have a copy of this?” Conner asked.

  “Sure,” Nancy said. She got up and went to the all-in-one printer on the bookcase next to the filing cabinet and made him a copy of the lease. When she handed it to him, she held it.

  “Are you sure there was no one over fifty-five living there?” she asked Conner.

  “Not absolutely sure, but the younger guy was alone when I went there yesterday.”

  “The owner could have been out,” Nancy said.

  “The car was in the driveway,” Conner said.

  “He could have been at the pool,” Nancy said.

  “Why don’t you go over there and see for yourself?” Mel asked.

  “Thanks, Nancy,” Conner said. He stood and looked at Mel. She stood, and then followed him out the door.

  “I didn’t like her,” Mel said. “She’s full of shit.”

  “Yes, but we may need her. It’s always better to keep them on your side.”

  “Do you believe the old guy ever lived there? I mean, wouldn’t someone have mentioned him? Marge never said anything about an older man, and neither did the old man or the mean girl women I talked to.”

  “Maybe we should talk to Marge together,” Conner said.

  “She’s always on the porch,” Mel said.

  Chapter 9

  The sky had grown cloudy while they were in the office.

  “It’s gonna rain,” Conner said.

  Marge was at her station on the porch and Maurice was barking.

  “Shut up, Maurice,” Marge yelled when she saw them pu
ll up. She recognized Mel and Conner from the day before.

  “Hi, Marge,” Mel said as they walked up to the porch. “This is Deputy O’Keefe. He wanted to ask you some questions.”

  “Deputy, huh? It’s about time one of you came to talk to me.”

  “Any particular reason we should be talking to you?” Conner asked.

  “The girl knows. We talked this morning.”

  “Marge,” Mel said. “Have you ever seen another man living in my aunt’s house?”

  “What do you mean?” Marge asked.

  “An older man, say, around sixty,” Conner said.

  “No. Just the kid. I complained to Bea about it.”

  “Who’s Bea?” Conner asked.

  “The manager,” Marge said.

  “The manager’s name is Nancy,” Mel said.

  “Not that one, the one before. I told her that kid didn’t belong here. He was doing something to annoy Maurice and I wanted him out.”

  “What did she say?” Conner asked.

  “She said what she always said, that she’d look into it. The woman never did a damn thing the whole time she was here.”

  Conner was watching the dog. He kept sniffing, then barking, and his eyes were trained on something across the street.

  “How long has Maurice been barking?” Conner said.

  “Three months.”

  “And you’re sure you’ve never seen an older man living there?”

  “I’ve never seen anyone but that boy. Are you gonna do something to get him out?”

  “We’re working on it,” Conner said. “Thanks for your help.”

  “Yeah,” Marge said. “You’re working on it.”

  “Bye, Marge,” Mel said.

  They went back to the car and Conner took out his notebook. Mel watched Audrey’s home as he filled in his notes.

  “Why would a dog bark when he didn’t before?” she asked. “What would make him do that?”

  “He was sniffing a lot,” Conner said. “He smells something he doesn’t like.”

  “Coming from my aunt’s house?”

  Conner nodded. “We have to get inside again, but I’d rather do it with a warrant. If we find something, we have to be able to use it later on.”

  Mel started crying. “I didn’t even know her.”

  “She’s still family. And, how old was she?”

  “She was in her nineties.”

  For the third time since they met in the parking lot that morning, Conner put his hand on hers. She liked the way it felt. “You have a right to be concerned. She was pretty old.”