“What do you think about that? You think she had anything to do with his death?”
Bernie picked up his bottle, pushed himself up, and finished off the rest on the way back into the kitchen. “You sure you don’t want one?” I heard the first bottle crash into the recycler. He came back with another. “I can’t see her killing her father. I thought they were messing around, like adultery.”
“Well, we still don’t know that they weren’t.” I shrugged. “You never know. They might have before they knew they were related. It’s happened before.” I watched him chug. He’d been drinking too much for a while now. Months. I debated whether this was any of my business.
He set his beer on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “True, but I think we need to look more closely at Sylvia. I wouldn’t put it past her. Something’s up with that lady.”
I glanced at the bottle. “Theresa’s going to talk to the Miltons tomorrow. I told her I’d like to go with her.”
“All right. Unless there’s someone else we need to talk to, I’ll work on our reports. Are we waiting for forensics from anyone? I could follow up on that, put their feet to the fire.”
“We still don’t know how our hot tub Jane Doe died. I was going to talk to Dr. Lee, but haven’t had the chance. Can you do that tomorrow?”
“Sure thing. Consider it done.” He yawned.
“I’m going to take off.” I stood and started for the door. “See you tomorrow.” I looked over my shoulder, wondering how many more beers he’d have between now and then.
“Okay. See you later, Syd.”
Chapter Nineteen
I went home, chowed down on an almond butter and strawberry preserve sandwich on whole grain bread, then hopped in the shower and brushed my teeth. I’d just put on my pajamas when the doorbell rang. I looked at the clock. Not too late, I guessed, depending on who it was. I hoped it wasn’t Craig with another bottle of wine. I grabbed a robe and slid my feet into slippers. I put on my robe as I shuffled to the living room. I peeked out the peephole. Brad had his back to the door. I sighed. Time to talk. Except, I didn’t know what to say to him. That was why I hadn’t returned his calls. Just call me the Cowardly Lion.
I took a deep breath and opened the door. He turned around, smiling sheepishly. He had red roses in his hand. A dozen, maybe.
“I’ve been calling.” He didn’t try to come in.
“I know. I’ve been busy.” Now what? No clue.
“These are for you.” He handed me the roses.
“Thanks.” I took the flowers, put them to my nose, and pretended to sniff. “Do you want to come in?” I pushed the door open wider and moved aside.
He grinned. “Sure.” He stepped inside then stood in the entrance looking at his feet. He was wearing black dress slacks, a dark-blue long-sleeved shirt, and a black tie with stripes matching his shirt. What was this about?
“Are you going somewhere?” I looked him up and down.
“I’m already there. I’m where I want to be.” He took my hand and led me to the sofa, where we sat. “But only if it’s what you want, too.”
I gazed at him then laid the flowers on the sofa. “You shouldn’t have turned off my phone.”
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” He sandwiched my hand between his warm but callused ones.
I pulled my hand away, picked up the roses, and stood. “I should get these in a vase.”
“Am I forgiven? Can we just start over, Sydney?” He followed me into the kitchen.
My heart pounded. I got my gardening shears out of the drawer. “Okay. It had better not happen again.” I turned toward him. “You want to get me fired or something?”
“Of course not.” He watched me snip the stem ends, fill the vase with water, and drop a few of the roses into it. “Well, it looks like you’ve had a long day. I should get going.” He didn’t move. Neither did I, except to continue my rose snipping.
“Maybe we could do something tomorrow.” I swept the stems’ ends into the trash. I carried the vase into the living room and placed it on the coffee table.
Brad followed me. “Should I pick you up at six, or would seven be better?” He sauntered to the door.
“Six works for me. Where are we going?”
“How about TGI Fridays, where we met?” He smiled as he opened the door. “It could be like a semi-anniversary.”
“Good idea.” And it was. We needed to remember that. “Thanks for the roses. They’re very pretty.”
“Glad you like them.” He hugged then kissed me. It was a long kiss. My knees almost buckled before he pulled away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stepped outside and headed to his truck.
“Good night.” My rubbery legs took me to my bedroom, where I lay down and thought about the evening. What just happened?
The next morning, Theresa and I stood on the porch of Shelly Milton’s parents’ house, waiting for someone to answer the door. The little dogs went crazy inside.
“Did they know you were coming this morning?” I asked.
“They’re the ones who set the time when I called yesterday.”
“Maybe they forgot. Do you have their phone numbers on you?” I looked through my notebook, checking for their numbers.
Theresa was faster. She dialed and put the phone to her ear. It rang, then a few seconds later, the ringtone of a popular song came from inside the house. The dogs continued to bark and whimper.
“Whose phone did you call? Shelly or Jake?”
“That was Jake’s phone number.” She looked through her notes then dialed again. A car swung into the driveway.
The wayward couple had returned. They came toward us with big smiles on their faces. What was up now?
Shelly rushed across the lawn. “I’m so sorry. We didn’t think we’d be that long. We wanted to call, but Jake forgot his phone, and I didn’t have your number with me.”
Jake unlocked the door, and the dogs zoomed out, ran around the yard, then came back to jump on Jake and Shelly. “Do you have any news on the house we rented and our money? Did you catch the guy?” Jake stood at the door, holding it open for us.
“I was going to ask you if you had any news. I hadn’t heard from you.” Theresa put away her phone. “The last I heard, you were thinking about renting another house.”
“That’s where we were,” Shelly said.
“We need to get out of here.” Jake glanced at Shelly. “No offense to your mom and dad.”
“None taken. I agree with you.” Shelly led us to the family room, and we all sat.
“I haven’t found anyone in the database who pulled the same type of scam and matched the description you gave. Have you remembered anything else that could help us?” Theresa asked.
Jake glanced at Shelly, who shook her head.
“We figured it was a loss. We’re moving on. Turning the page, so to speak,” Jake said.
“When we last spoke to you, it seemed like you didn’t have the money to move yet. That’s why you moved in here,” Theresa said.
“That was true at the time, but we’ve managed to get the cash together.” Jake reached for Shelly’s hand. “Right, honey?”
She nodded slightly.
“May we ask how that happened?” I asked.
“Is it important?” Jake asked.
“It could be.” I got out my notebook. Something was fishy.
“We borrowed it from Shelly’s parents.” Jake squeezed Shelly’s hand.
She was still. No nod or smile. Nothing.
“How much?” Theresa asked.
“Excuse me?” Jake frowned.
“How much did you borrow?” Theresa asked.
“Well, we haven’t actually borrowed it yet. Shelly asked before I came back, and they said they’d give us help if we needed it.” He chuckled. “We definitely need it.”
“All right. We’ll let you know if anything new develops with your case. I’d like you to do the same.” Theresa put her notebook in her
purse.
The Miltons stood and headed for the door. Eager to get rid of us?
“Thoughts?” I asked as I drove us back to the station.
“They’re lying through their teeth.”
“Well, he is. She didn’t say much,” I said.
“I agree. The question is why is he lying, and why didn’t she say much?”
I looked her way. “Have you ever met her parents?”
“No. Why? Do you think they don’t exist? Hey, maybe that’s not even her parents’ house.” She hummed creepy horror movie music.
I laughed. “You never know what people are hiding.”
“Let’s check it out. Maybe they ‘rented’ that house, too.” Theresa had placed air quotes around the word “rented.”
“It’s always the people you least expect. The innocent-looking young couple.” I looked at Theresa.
She pointed to the windshield. “Eyes on the road!” She slapped her thigh and laughed. “The innocent young couple might have murdered hot tub Jane Doe the day before. Maybe when you saw Shelly, she was coming to remove the body or something. They could’ve both been in the house before they actually moved in.” She hummed the horror movie music again.
Fighting the urge to look at her, I just nodded. “But why would she show up and wait around outside the house with all of those police officers there? That’s stupid.”
“Hey, I’m just thinking out loud. I haven’t thought it through yet.”
When we arrived at the station, I informed Bernie about the Milton situation. He’d managed to get the cause of death for Jane Doe from Dr. Lee—our victim had died of a head injury, which we’d suspected, too. She thought it might have been caused from a fall. Perhaps she’d hit her head after falling into the hot tub. Dr. Lee indicated bleeding inside the skull had created pressure on the brain. She said Jane had most likely slipped into a coma then died later. If Jane had received medical care quickly, the pressure could’ve been relieved with surgery and she might have survived. The estimated time of death was twelve to twenty-four hours before the gardener found her. Dr. Lee also believed Jane would’ve exhibited symptoms of the injury, like slurred speech, confusion, and staggering.
“I’m going to do a public records search for Shelly’s parents’ house.”
“Why?” He frowned, and dark shadows deepened under his eyes. At least he didn’t smell like a brewery.
I sat on his desk. “When Theresa and I stopped by there this morning, the Miltons were late because they’d been trying to find a place to live.”
Bernie’s brows rose.
“Yeah, I was surprised, too. When we told them we were under the impression they were flat broke, or something like that, they said Shelly’s parents gave them money.”
“Well, that’s reasonable. Parents help out their children all the time. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that her parents would do that.”
“That’s correct, and I agree with you. But when asked how much her parents had given them, they told us they didn’t actually have the money yet.”
“Hmm. Why lie and say the parents gave them money in the first place?”
“My point exactly. We started wondering if her parents even existed because we’ve never seen or spoken to them.”
“All right. Let me know what you find out.” He turned back to his report reading and writing. I took that as a clue to get lost.
“Don’t I always let you know?” I mumbled under my breath as I wandered away.
“Hey, I heard that!” Bernie said.
I breezed by Theresa’s cubicle to let her know I would check public records for information on Shelly’s parents’ house. Theresa could’ve done that herself, but I figured I might as well.
I went back to my desk and read through the information we had so far. We hadn’t been able to nail down the date Vincent Frakes had left town or returned. Monica had told us he sometimes chartered flights, but she had no idea which company he used. I couldn’t count on Sylvia’s help. We had a ballpark, though. I checked the ME’s report to see if it provided the time of death or cause. The cause appeared to have been massive blood loss from a severed artery. She believed he’d died quickly. She estimated he died a day or two before Jane Doe.
My search for information on Shelly’s parents’ property indicated they were the owners of the house, plus a cabin in the mountains at Big Bear Lake. My mind went off into another direction—I wondered if the parents were still alive. That was worth checking out. I spoke to Bernie and Theresa and suggested we visit the parents in person, just to be sure. Adult children had murdered their parents for less.
Since Theresa had another task outside of the office, Bernie and I took a ride out to Shelly Milton’s parents’ house. I’d found the parents’ names and Shelly’s birth certificate through a public records search. Her parents were Carl and Linda Simon. We rolled up to the house and parked at the curb. A car I hadn’t seen before was sitting in the driveway. I jotted down the plate, make, and model of the car. Then Bernie and I moseyed up to the door.
Chapter Twenty
Bernie rang the doorbell, and the dogs went crazy. The open interior door gave us the pleasure of seeing them charge the screen door, baring their teeth at us. I wondered if they would ever get used to us stopping by.
I grinned and glanced at Bernie. “You scared?”
“Yeah, I’m shaking in my boots. Absolutely terrified.” He shuddered then looked at my cowgirl booties. “Better watch your ankles.” He laughed. That was good to see. It had been a while.
I pointed. “Someone’s coming.” A small dark shadow moved through the house.
“May I help you?” An older, miniature Shelly with short blond hair peered through the screen at us. She had to look up. She was shorter than Khrystal.
We pressed our badges to the screen. The dogs started up again and scratched at the door.
“Down! Sit! No!”
They continued their antics, ignoring the diminutive woman.
“We’re Detectives Bernard and Valentine,” Bernie said.
“Oh! You’re the ones who’ve been helping the kids?” She reached for the latch. “They’re not here now, but you can come in and wait, if you’d like. They should be back soon.”
Bernie and I stepped forward. He held the door open for me, and I entered first. The dogs sniffed my shoes. I couldn’t remember their names, if I’d ever known them at all.
“Are you Shelly’s mother?” I asked.
“I’m so sorry. Please excuse my manners. Yes, I’m Linda Simon.” She led us into the sunroom. “This is my husband, Carl.” She gestured toward the man sitting at the table. “Carl, these are the detectives handling Shelly and Jake’s case.”
He slid a center piece of a jigsaw puzzle of sailboats into place. She took a seat across the table from him. The dogs went to their beds in the corner, made little dog circles, then plopped down on the cushions.
Carl stood. He was bald and not much taller than Linda. He reached out a callused, working-man’s hand to me. Brad’s weren’t quite as callused, but I imagine they would be at some point if he continued renovating houses.
He shook Bernie’s hand next. “Do you have an update for them? Pull up a chair.”
I grabbed the seat next to Linda, and Bernie sat at the head of the table, with Linda on his left and Carl on the right.
“Actually, we’re here to see the two of you.” I scooted my chair closer to the table.
Linda frowned. “Us? Whatever for?” She glanced at her husband, her brow furrowed.
“What can we do to help?” Carl asked. “If we can help you find the con man who took those kids’ money, we will.”
“We appreciate that, sir.” Bernie placed the recorder on the table and turned it on.
The couple stared at it. What was with all of the staring at the recorder lately?
“We’ll take notes, but this helps us with accuracy after we’ve left.” I got out my notebook from my pocket. “We
want to make sure we get it right.”
The Simons nodded but continued to gaze at the little machine as if they expected it to grow legs and walk across the table at any moment.
Carl cleared his throat. “Well, we’re happy to help.” He looked at his wife. “Right, Linda?”
She nodded, the earlier cheerfulness gone. “Yes, we’ll help. If we can.”
“How much do you know about their situation with that house?” Bernie asked.
“Well, they put down a large security deposit on it, or thought they did, and tried to move in,” Carl said.
“Okay. What else?” I said.
“They couldn’t move in. Someone had died there, so they came back here,” Linda said.
“It’s our understanding that they’re looking to rent again,” I said.
“That’s what they’ve told us. Linda and I told them they’re welcome to stay here for a while longer—to save money.”
“Do you know where they got the money for the first house?” Bernie asked.
“Oh, they saved up. Shelly was upset when they lost the money to that horrible con man,” Linda said.
Carl glanced at her. “Yes, but she seemed to get over it pretty quickly.”
Linda nodded.
“Why do you think she got over it quickly?” I asked.
They both shrugged.
“Where are they getting the money for the next one?” I asked.
Another dual shrug. I glanced at Bernie, who raised his brows ever so slightly.
“Would you help them out? With the deposit?” Bernie asked.
Carl shook his head. “We think they should do that themselves. Stand on their own two feet, so to speak.” Carl glanced at Linda.
She nodded. “We’ve given them a place to stay. Rent free. The rest is up to them.”
“You have to understand. My wife and I have always worked hard. The kids are young and need to figure this out. It’s how they’ll learn, even if it means they’ll struggle.”
Linda reached for Carl’s hand. “We didn’t have it easy when we were starting out. Nobody helped us.” She chuckled. “There were days when we ate plain oatmeal, the Quaker Oats kind, for every meal. It tasted bland, but it put something in our bellies. We couldn’t even afford milk.”
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