A Crying Shame: A Jesse Watson Mystery

by Ann Mullen

  “To be honest, we haven’t had time to complete our plans, but I swear to you that I wouldn’t do this without your approval. I was convinced that I would be able to change your mind.”

  Billy looked at the clock on the wall and said, “I really do have to leave. I came back to tell you that I’ll be back shortly and if you promise to wait for me, we’ll figure this out together.”

  “Okay,” I said. “We’ll work on a plan while you’re gone.”

  “I want a promise from you that you won’t leave until I return.”

  “Okay,” I said, hesitantly. “I promise.”

  Billy kissed me, said good-bye again, and then left.

  Claire walked to the window, peeked out, and then turned back to us. “He’s gone. What’s our next move, Jesse?”

  “We can make plans, but I can’t leave the house. I promised Billy. I’m going to call Sarah,” I said as I walked back over to the phone. “She can help Mom with the kids while you and I go to your old homestead.”

  “So we’re going through with it?”

  “Yes, but whatever we decide, I have to tell Billy. I figured I could call him and tell him of our plans. If we wait for him to come home, he’ll want to go with us. You know how he is. He’ll refuse to let us go by ourselves and he can be mighty persuasive.”

  “Maybe that’s because he knows best,” Mom said.

  I looked at Mom and said, “He’s not right all the time. He made a real blunder by leaving trace evidence at the scene.”

  “What are you talking about?” Claire asked.

  Me and my big mouth! The bag was untied; I might as well let the cat out.

  “Carl pulled a gun on Billy and Billy took it away from him. You can use your deductive reasoning to figure out the rest.”

  “Well, I can’t,” Mom said. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

  The three of us walked over to the sofa and sat down. After a long, drawn out explanation, Mom and Claire were fully informed about the events leading up to Carl’s disappearance.

  Two hours later, Sarah was in the kitchen helping Mom prepare a bottle for Maisy, lunch for two kids, two dogs, and one slightly lazy cat, while Chief “Sam” Standing Deer was in the living room captivating his audience of young ones. Claire had gone to Stanardsville, dropped off the minivan, picked up her Mercedes SUV, and was standing with me in my bedroom while I gathered my stuff. Billy called and was on his way home.

  As soon as he walked in the door, Claire and I met him. We had devised a masterful plan, had our coats on, and were ready to leave.

  “Stop,” Billy said, putting the palm of his hand up to us. “I want to hear every detail before you walk out that door.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Claire and I were on the road, heading to the house where she used to live when she was married to Carl. She said she couldn’t call it home anymore, because it wasn’t. After what she’d been through with him, I could understand how she must feel. She had been a good wife and he took advantage of her kindness and vulnerability. He was… is a rat.

  We were going to take Rt. 29 almost all the way to Washington, D.C., but turn off before going into the heart of the city.

  “I guess we won’t get to see the White House, huh?”

  “Jesse, have you forgotten what it’s like there?”

  “It has been a long time.”

  “I don’t live anywhere near the White House… not even close,” she said as she kept her eyes on the road. “All the neat places like the Smithsonian Institute, the art galleries, the monuments, and even the White House are great places to visit. They want tourism, so they keep those areas nice, but if you venture onto the outskirts, say the southeast section, you run into a place that you don’t want to go. That section sits amid neglect and poverty. Their streets are filled with beggars, hookers and pimps. The slums are so bad that the rats don’t even want to live there. It’s a dirty, filthy place. I’ve heard people say that the best thing about D.C. is leaving it. If you live in the northwest section where I live, it’s a different story. The houses are fine homes and most start around four-hundred-thousand dollars and go up.”

  “I remember when Mom and Dad took us to visit all those places,” I said. “I was ten and I thought Washington, D.C. was the greatest place in the world. I was mesmerized by the sight of the White House and that big fence that surrounded it to protect the President of the United States.”

  “There’s a reason the White House is surrounded by a tall, impenetrable fence, and it’s not just to protect the President. It’s to keep out the riff raff. Besides, you were ten at the time and you didn’t know any better. We were sight-seers and visited selected attractions. We never ventured past the tourist route.”

  “If D.C. is such a terrible place, then why did you live there?”

  “Not all of D.C. is bad. There’re a lot of nice places to live if you know where they are. For instance, take our house… Carl’s house... it’s located in one of the better sections of D.C., but just in case, keep your eyes opened and your doors locked until we get there.”

  “How well do you know your neighbors?” I asked. We had a long drive ahead of us and I desperately needed information. I wanted to know all about the situation we could be possibly walking into, and I wanted to know it before hand. I wanted as few surprises as possible. We had saved this part of the plan for the road trip. We threw this trip together quickly and decided we’d go over every scenario on the road. It was time to finalize our story.

  “We live in a nice community. Most houses are located on about one acre of land, so they’re pretty close together. Now that I can stand back and look at the place rationally, it reminds me of that movie where all the women are programmed to be the perfect housewives.”

  “I remember that movie,” I chuckled. “I wanted to slap every one of those women, and choke all their husbands.”

  “Our husbands are lawyers, doctors, judges, bankers, senators, congressmen… you name it.”

  “What exactly does Carl do for a living? You’ve always been rather vague about his profession. You told us he’s an investor, but being an investor can cover a wide range of things. He could be involved in drugs, or pornography.”

  “Oh, Jesse, don’t be silly,” Claire chided me. “Carl is an upstanding citizen… a respected man of the community. He would never be involved with such terrible things like drugs and pornography. That’s insulting.”

  “You don’t know what he does to earn money, do you?”

  Claire didn’t say anything. I took her silence to mean no, she didn’t know exactly what her husband did for a living.

  “I can’t believe that you were married to this man for seven years, and you never knew a thing about his business. Did it ever occur to you to ask him where he got his money? He sure seems to have plenty of it.”

  “He works at Baker, Fields, and Tarr. They’re a consulting firm. They invest people’s money, and help companies find ways to increase productivity, while at the same time, saving money. They offer other services as well.”

  “That sounds like a rehearsed spiel. Is that what Carl told you to tell people when they ask you about his job?”

  “That’s what he told me.”

  “How many times have you been to his workplace?”

  “I’ve been a few times. He wanted people to know his family. I’ve also been to several parties with his boss and co-workers. I’ve hosted several parties, myself.”

  “Did you make friends with any of the women at these parties, and did you ask them about their husband’s position with the company?”

  “I didn’t need to ask any of them. I already knew. Carl would grill me about them before they came to our parties. He didn’t want me to make an egregious error in etiquette. He believed a host and hostess should know the names of each and everyone of their guests. He was adamant about social protocol. If I made a blunder, I’d hear about it for a month. I really hated it when he treated me like that. Carl was well on
his way up the corporate ladder until he had that affair, got shot, and his bad behavior made headlines in the newspaper. He’s still with the firm, but he has to work his way back into the good graces of the partners.”

  “I bet that really gets his goat.”

  “You know it does. He worked all those years only to let his penis get in his way. You know that old expression about men being led around by their... well, I’m sure you get the idea.”

  I looked over at Claire and we both laughed.

  “He’s such a dork,” she said. “I can’t figure out what I ever saw in him.”

  “You were in love, and love does strange things to a person. It makes us do stuff we normally wouldn’t do. It clouds our judgment.”

  “You can say that again. I remember once Carl asked me to wear something sexy and flirt with that old man, Jerry Tarr. Jerry Tarr is the oldest of the partners. He’s filthy rich and lonely. His wife died of cancer about five years ago.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I told Carl he was out of his mind. I asked him if he wanted me to sleep with the old codger, too.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He didn’t say anything. That’s what really upset me. After that little incident, I should’ve known there was trouble in paradise.”

  We drove for several miles in silence and then Claire said, “I bet you think I’m a real fool.”

  “No, I don’t. I think you loved Carl and wanted to make him happy. Unfortunately, there’re some men who won’t be happy regardless of what you do for them. I think Carl’s one of those men. How long have you two been separated?”

  “About eight months, I think.”

  “Has he ever tried to contact you or the kids up until now?”

  “We didn’t hear anything from him after the first couple of weeks until just before Christmas.”

  “Does that sound like the actions of a man who wants his woman back? It sure doesn’t to me.”

  “I guess not.”

  “If you loved someone who left you, wouldn’t you use everything you had to get him back… even to the point of making an idiot out of yourself?”

  “Maybe…”

  “Maybe, my butt; sure you would. You’re willing to forgive Cole for hitting you and you want to get him help. I’d say that says a lot about how you feel about him. I think Carl has plans, and it doesn’t include getting you back. Has the possibility of Carl running off with his kids and another woman ever crossed your mind?”

  “Yes, more than once.”

  “I’m shocked, Claire.”

  “I’m not as dumb as you might think.”

  “Oh, I’ve never thought that you were dumb, just crazy for loving a creep like Carl.”

  “Let’s talk about what we’re going to do when we get there. All this talk about Carl is depressing. Are you hungry?”

  “I could use a drink. My mouth is as dry as the Sahara. How about you? We have a cooler in the back floorboard loaded with drinks and sandwiches. You know Mom wasn’t going to let us leave the house without provisions.”

  “She sounds more like Billy every day. I almost choked when she said that. They sure are a pair!”

  “I told her the same thing—that she sounded like Billy. I guess if you’re around someone long enough, their personality starts to rub off on you. You can’t help it.”

  I unsnapped my seatbelt long enough to reach into the back to grab a couple of drinks and sandwiches.

  Claire went nuts. “Jesse, buckle your seatbelt!”

  “Calm down,” I said as I refastened my seatbelt. “I had to reach the cooler.” I opened her Pepsi and then handed it to her. I set her sandwich on the center console. “What’s the big deal?”

  “Never take off your seatbelt,” she demanded. “That seatbelt is what saved your life when that crazy teenager abducted you, remember?”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. Don’t mind me. Next time I’ll just break my back trying to get to the cooler.”

  “No, you won’t. The next time we stop, we’re going to set it on top of the back seat.”

  “Yes, Mom,” I said.

  “You can make fun of me all you want to, but you know I’m right.”

  We rode in silence as we ate our sandwich and drank our soft drink.

  “We don’t have far to go,” Claire said. “Look in the glove box and see if the garage door opener is still in there.”

  I opened the glove box, fished around and came up with what looked like a small remote control. “Is this it?” I asked.

  “That’s it. I’m going to pull up in the driveway and when I do, I want you to hit the button to open the door.”

  “Are the batteries still good, Claire? It hasn’t been used since you left Carl. Maybe we should stop at a 7-11, and buy new batteries, just to be on the safe side.”

  “That’s a good idea. No wonder you’re a P.I., Jesse.”

  “As soon as I’m registered with DCJS and get my pictured ID, I will be. It’s just a matter of paperwork.”

  “We’re coming up on a 7-11. We’ll stop here. I don’t want to stop at the one close to my house. Someone might recognize me.”

  “The whole neighborhood’s going to see you when we pull up in the driveway. That reminds me of what Billy said before we left. He said that the police would probably have crime scene tape up, and if we crossed it, we’d be breaking the law. We could get arrested. If they do, that could be a problem for us. The only way to know for sure would be to drive by first.”

  “We’ll drive by and if the tape is still up, we can wait until dark if you want. If you don’t care, I’ll drive right through it.”

  “Let’s drive by first and then decide what to do.”

  “When we do get there, Jesse, if anyone confronts us, let me do the talking. I know how to handle my neighbors. Most of them are housewives who have nothing to do all day long but gossip. However, when it comes to the women against the men, they stick together.”

  “That’s interesting,” I said. “Women talk about each other, but pull together against the opposite sex. That’s a strange, but delightful relationship, don’t you think?”

  “Just because these women are rich, it doesn’t mean they can’t be dysfunctional. We’ll use that to our advantage.”

  “We must be getting…”

  “It’s just around the corner.”

  Claire made a right turn and pulled over. She stopped just long enough to tell me that her house is the fifth one on the left.

  “Keep you eyes open. Check out the scenery and let me know what you see. We’ll turn around at the next block, and if everything’s okay, we’ll come back and pull in my driveway.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll check the other houses while you look at your house as we pass.”

  Claire drove slowly past her house as I scoped out everything else in sight. As we reached the next block, Claire turned left and pulled over to the side.

  “Whew!” I said. “We’re the luckiest two women. I didn’t see anyone outside and there’s not any crime scene tape up around the yard. There might be some on the door, but I couldn’t see any. I say we go for it.”

  “Give me a minute, my hands are shaking,” Claire said. “I saw my next door neighbor looking out of her window. Her name is Abigail Morgan. She’s old, cantankerous, and I adore her. She’s disgustingly rich and doesn’t give a hoot about what people say. She told me she became a hateful old bitty after people gave her so much grief about her daughter being a lesbian. Because of their attitude, she realized that they weren’t her friends. She’s cool. I know you’ll like her.”

  “Is her daughter really a lesbian?”

  “No, she isn’t. She’s married and has a couple of kids. But you know how people can be. They make up lies.”

  “Introduce me to her and let’s have a chat.”

  “Try to behave,” Claire said as she turned the car around and headed back to her house. “I like Abigail and I don’t want you to embarrass me by act
ing weird.”

  “I promise that I’ll be myself.”

  “I was afraid of that.”

  Claire’s house was a huge Tudor with a well-manicured lawn. All the houses on the street were almost identical right down to the perfectly mowed lawns. It was duplication at its best.

  Claire pulled up into the driveway and when I was about to open the garage door, she touched my hand. “Hold off for a minute. Let’s park, get out of the car, and get our duffel bags. It’ll look more natural… like we have every reason to be here. I can promise you that Abigail will come out to greet us. She can’t help herself. She has to know everything.”

  “What happened to our plan?”

  “I think we’d better play this one by ear.”

  “If we’re not going to spend the night, why take in our duffel bags?”

  “We might need them just in case I want to put something in one of them. Who knows, I might have left something behind in my hurry to leave the rat.”

  “Okay, but I have to warn you, other than a few clothes, I have a 9MM, a can of mace, a knife the size of a machete, and a pair of handcuffs in my duffel bag. This bag isn’t something I want the police to find on me, if I don’t have to. I also have Billy’s snub nosed .38 strapped to my ankle and my .38 Special in my purse. I came prepared.”

  “Where’s the rocket launcher?”

  “Oh, wouldn’t that be just the ticket?”

  Claire parked the car and opened her door. We got out and walked around to the back of the car. Claire pushed a button on her key chain and the back door opened electronically.

  “No wonder these cars are so expensive; they do everything.”

  “To be precise, Jesse, this is a Mercedes, SUV… not a car.”

  “I know that. I have a Jeep, but I still call it a car sometimes.”

  We continued to talk about nothing special as we laughed and walked toward the entrance to the house. As soon as we got close to the front door, we saw crime scene tape plastered across it. Claire ignored the tape, set her duffel bag down and then stuck her key into the lock.