by Becky Durfee
“What happened?”
“I’m trying to remember,” Megan whispered, looking distant. “The barbeque started in the late afternoon, I think, and Doctor Burke was there as Stella’s date.” She covered her face with her hands. “They’d even snuck off to her bedroom when he’d first gotten there. Oh, God.” She looked up again and shooed the idea away with her hand. “Anyway, the afternoon seemed perfectly normal until shortly after dinner—when Colin arrived.”
Jenny took furious notes as Megan told the story.
“Stella and Doctor Burke were sitting cuddled up together on the couch when Colin walked in. He had flowers for Stella. Imagine the poor kid’s surprise when he walked in to find another man with his arm around the woman he thought was his girlfriend.”
“Was there a fight?” Jenny asked with wide eyes.
“Almost. Colin was angry, demanding to know who Doctor Burke was. Doctor Burke stood up and asked the same thing of Colin. It looked like things could have gotten out of hand, but Stella took charge of the situation.”
“How did she do that?”
Megan sighed as she recalled the scene. “She asked Colin to step outside with her. I’m not sure what she said to him, but he ended up leaving. When she came back inside, I heard her tell Doctor Burke that Colin was just some young neighborhood kid who had a crush on her and showed up from time to time. Doctor Burke asked if she needed him to take care of it for her, and she declined. She said she’d be fine. For the next hour or so, everything went back to normal.
“Doctor Burke had to leave early,” Megan continued. “I think he had a surgery the next morning, or his wife was coming home, or something like that. Either way, he left before the sun went down.” She let out a little sound of disgust and shook her head. “And wouldn’t you know it—with one phone call, there was Colin, back at the house. He took over right where Doctor Burke had left off.” She leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. “He even spent the night.”
Jenny was surprised. “He was willing to come back after she’d sent him away?”
“Strangely enough, he was. Stella had managed to convince him that her apparent interest in Doctor Burke was strictly a necessary evil in trying to advance her career. She thanked Colin for being willing to hide out that extra hour so he wouldn’t blow her cover.” She made finger quotes. “You know, I’ve got to give Stella credit. I realize a lot of folks wouldn’t have approved of what she was doing, but she did have this way about her that allowed her to get away with things that most people wouldn’t even dream of trying. She probably said something to Doctor Burke like, why would I want a kid when I could have a real, mature man like you? Only to turn around and tell Colin, what would I want with an old man when I could have a strapping young thing like you?” Megan once again shook her head. “She had a way with words, that’s for sure.”
Jenny paused to consider that her way with words may have cost Stella her life.
After taking a moment to review her notes, Jenny sat back in her chair and said, “Well, it looks like we may have two viable suspects here—three if you count Mrs. Burke. Now, do you know if these guys were ever questioned by the police?”
Megan gave it some thought, but ultimately answered, “You know, I don’t believe they were. The focus was always on Nate Minnick, from the very beginning. I don’t think the police really looked into any other scenarios.”
“Well,” Jenny raised her eyes to meet Megan’s, “I think that needs to change.”
Chapter 7
“So, how’s the land of misfit contractors?” Jenny asked through the phone. She used the speaker function so she could keep both hands on the wheel.
“Kick ass,” Zack said proudly. “The carpet in the bedrooms is up, and we’ve cut into the walls to make the door openings wider. We’re still waiting on the county before we start the ramp in the front, but we have plenty to keep us busy in the meantime. Speaking of busy…how’s the detective work?”
“I found out some interesting little tidbits,” she confessed. “It seems Stella was involved in a little love triangle. She had two boyfriends, and one of them was married.”
“Wouldn’t that be a love rectangle?”
“Indeed. And love rectangles often don’t end well. I’ve got Kyle looking into the whereabouts of the two guys she was dating, and in the meantime, I’m going to the police station to let them know about my suspicions.”
“Do you think they’ll re-open the case?”
Jenny shook her head. “I don’t know. I have no idea what to expect, really.”
“Well, good luck to you,” Zack said. “I’m sorry I can’t be there.”
“Don’t worry,” Jenny replied with a smile. “You are exactly where you should be right now.”
Even though she had never been there before, Jenny felt a wave of familiarity as she approached the police station. She could tell Nate was with her, a notion that still spooked her after all this time. Her eyes searched the area around her, seeing nothing but bright blue skies and a parking lot full of cars. To the naked eye, she seemed alone and everything was normal, but she knew better.
Although Nate was invisible to her, his presence gave her the strength to walk through the door of the station with confidence. She approached the front desk, where a young woman was surrounded by mounds of papers. “Hello,” Jenny said professionally, “I was wondering if I could speak to somebody about some information I have on a case.”
Jenny was told to have a seat and wait to be called; however, she was feeling a pull that she wanted to pursue. She stared at the double doors that led into the back of the station; she wanted to be on the other side of those doors. This was the first time she was being led to an area where she couldn’t go, and she found resisting the tug to be difficult. An uneasiness rose from within her.
Mercifully, it wasn’t long before an officer came out into the lobby with an extended hand. “Hi,” he said with a pleasant smile, “I’m Detective Dante Wilks.”
Jenny shook his hand and replied, “Hi. Jenny Wa—Jenny Larrabee.” She flashed an embarrassed smile, knowing how stupid she must have sounded. “I just got married,” she explained. “I’m still getting used to it.”
“Well, congratulations, Mrs. Larrabee. Why don’t you come back with me and tell me what you have for us?”
She followed Detective Wilks into his office, which had glass walls with open blinds. Considering most of the other officers had cubicles in one large room, Jenny determined Detective Wilks must have held a relatively high rank.
He gestured for her to sit down across from him; he did the same in his reclining office chair. Jenny quickly noticed the pictures of the smiling children that graced his desk, and for a fleeting moment she wondered if those kids knew that their father risked his life every time he left for work. Shooing the thought from her head, Jenny smiled pleasantly as the detective asked for the reason behind her visit.
It was only then that Jenny realized she had nothing rehearsed. “I’ve been looking into the Stella Jorgenson case,” she began, figuring that was as good of a place to start as any. “It was a murder that happened back in 1988. Are you familiar with it?”
“I’ve heard of it,” he replied. “We don’t have many cases like that around here, so the few that we do have get remembered.”
Jenny smirked. “I guess that’s a good thing.”
Detective Wilks smiled in return. “I’ll be happy if we never have one like that again.”
“I can imagine.” Jenny felt uncomfortable, knowing she was about to accuse the department of fingering the wrong man. That feeling of uneasiness was compounded by Nate’s continued pull, which made her want to leave the office and head back out into the main room with the cubicles. Nonetheless, she continued. “I’ve come to believe that Nate Minnick may have suffered from a chromosomal disorder which may have compromised his ability to make a reliable confession.”
Wilks folded his hands into a steeple in front of his mouth. “
You don’t think Minnick did it?”
She looked at him unwaveringly. “I’m quite sure he didn’t.”
“Well, then, who do you think it was?”
With much less confidence, Jenny replied. “I don’t know yet. I’m looking into a few possibilities right now—Stella was dating two men at the time of her murder, and one of them was married.”
Wilks shook his head. “If you don’t know who did it, what makes you so sure it wasn’t Minnick?”
A mental debate ensued inside Jenny’s head. Ultimately, she decided that actions would speak louder than words. “I know this is unorthodox, but would you be willing to follow me for a minute?”
“Follow you? To where?”
“Not outside the building,” Jenny replied. That was the best she could answer considering she also didn’t know where they’d be going.
Wilks looked at her strangely for a moment before gesturing his hand toward his office door.
Jenny felt an immediate sense of relief as she allowed herself to follow the pull that had been growing inside of her. She led Wilks out of his office and through the maze of cubicles that littered the main room, ultimately bringing him to the opposite wall. She found herself looking at a collage of framed photographs, featuring decorated officers from generations past. One of the pictures in particular caught her eye. She looked at the face as it stared back at her; the man’s eyes seemed to come alive from behind the glass. Jenny felt afraid of the man—shamed by him—so she knew she was looking at the right face. “It’s him,” Jenny said as she pointed to his portrait. “This is the man who conducted Nate Minnick’s interrogation.”
Before Detective Wilks had the chance to reply, Jenny added, “There’s more.” The pull continued to lead her, this time around the edge of the room to a door that was closed. She was encouraged that the detective still followed her—she realized she must have looked like a crazy woman. “Is there any way we can get on the other side of this door?” she asked with her gaze fixed firmly on the knob.
Since the ensuing silence was long, she turned to look at Wilks, who appeared to be debating the question. “I guess we can go back here, sure. What the hell?” He opened the door and gestured that she go though.
Immediately, she was drawn down the hall to the second door on the left. It stood slightly ajar with a dark room lurking behind the slim opening. Jenny slowly opened the door and took a couple of steps into the black room. She was aware that Wilks had turned on the light, although she had already closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands by the time he had done so. Standing motionlessly, she absorbed the message Nate intended her to receive, which in this instance came in the form of still shots, like a series of photographs with no sound.
Once the message subsided, Jenny knew her first task was to ensure she appeared to be a credible psychic as opposed to a raving lunatic; she decided the best way to achieve that was to describe the factors that would let Wilks know she’d had a legitimate vision. “The officer,” she said, pointing back out toward the main room. “The officer who conducted the interrogation…he smoked. He leaned forward on the desk, getting in Nate’s face a lot, pointing at him with two fingers that had a cigarette in between. He wore a really big ring, and he styled his hair in a comb over.” She thought a little more before adding, “His clothes didn’t match; he wore a diagonally striped tie and a plaid shirt. If you watch the video of the interrogation, I guarantee that’s what you will find.”
Detective Wilks scratched his short hair and squinted. “So, what you’re telling me is that you’ve just…seen…Nate’s confession.”
Jenny did her best to appear sane. “I have an ability that most people don’t have,” she said softly. “If you do a little research on me, you’ll find that I’m legitimate. In fact, I worked with Bill Abernathy from the Evansdale police department not too long ago. You can ask him about me, if you’d like.”
“I know Bill; we go way back.” Wilks smiled broadly and shook his head, laughing pleasantly. “I’ve got to say, this is a first for me.”
“It usually is,” Jenny replied. “I’m going to be honest,” she continued, “I don’t even know for sure what I’m trying to accomplish by coming here today. I don’t know if I want you to re-open the case, or let me look at some evidence so I can pursue it myself, or if I just wanted to make you aware that I was looking into it. All I know is that Nate Minnick is desperately trying to prove his innocence…” She glanced at Wilks. “I think mostly for his parents’ sake. He wants to show them he didn’t do it.”
Wilks didn’t reply.
“I’ve met with Nate’s parents,” she added, remembering the photographs of the children on Wilks’ desk. “They seem like very nice people. My heart really goes out to them.” She looked at the detective out of the corner of her eye. “Nate was born with a lot of issues. He had a cleft lip and palate at birth, was hospitalized a lot throughout his childhood with chronic infections, and his IQ was very low. As a parent, I’m sure you can imagine how tough that was for the Minnicks.”
The detective simply grunted in response, looking uncomfortable.
“Then Nate got accused of this murder, and he certainly would have been no match for a trained interrogator. Nate’s IQ was seventy-two—he functioned at the level of a child. Of course he signed the confession that was presented to him; that’s what he was told to do. And then,” Jenny added, realizing this last blow was the cruelest twist of them all, “Nate died in prison at age twenty-one from a congenital heart defect. Can you imagine what that was like for his parents?”
With that, Detective Wilks winced and shook his head; Jenny knew she had struck a nerve.
“I saw you have two children,” Jenny said softly.
“I do,” he replied in an equally hushed tone. “Jasmine and Demitrius.”
“They look beautiful and healthy,” Jenny noted, placing her hand on her pregnant belly. “I’m expecting my first child in November, and healthy is all I can hope for. I can’t even imagine what the Minnicks went through, having a child with all those difficulties, and the blows just kept on coming for them.” She shook her head. “I think that’s part of the reason I’m so determined to bring them some answers. I’d like to be able to deliver them some good news for once. They’ve endured so much.” She looked intently at the detective. “All they wanted was a child…just like you and I did. Only they weren’t so lucky.”
Wilks wiped his hand over the top of his head. “Okay, I can pull up his file and look for some inconsistencies, but I have to warn you that I’m very busy. I don’t know how much time I’m going to have to pursue a case that’s been closed for two and a half decades.”
Jenny smiled with relief. “I can do the digging…all I need is the material to dig through.”
He nodded and gestured to the door. As Jenny proceeded to walk out, he turned the lights off behind them. “I’ll see what I can get for you, okay? And by the way…”
She looked at him as they headed toward his office.
“That chain-smoking detective you described? That was Sergeant Finneran. He was here when I first started.” He smiled and added, “And he never wore matching clothes.”
The house was large, as would be expected when its occupant had spent a lifetime being a doctor. The circular driveway in front housed a Lexus and a Jaguar; Jenny concluded that some other expensive cars may have been hidden behind the closed garage doors.
She turned to Kyle as they headed up the front stoop. “Do you want to do the talking or should I?”
“I can,” he replied. “When I show people the private investigator identification, it usually scares the hell out of them. That might be a good way to start…catch him off guard and frighten him a little.”
She nodded as she pressed the doorbell. A gray-haired, well-put-together woman answered the call. Jenny assumed she was looking at Mrs. Doctor Burke, and she wasn’t sure if this woman had been a simple victim of infidelity or the perpetrator of a brutal m
urder. By the looks of her that day, she hardly seemed the murdering type. “Can I help you?” she asked pleasantly.
“Katherine Burke?” Kyle began, flashing his identification.
A look of worry immediately graced her face. “Yes?”
“My name is Kyle Buchanan; I’m a private investigator looking into the murder of a Ms. Stella Jorgenson back in 1988. I believe she was affiliated with your husband through the hospital where he worked, and I’d like to ask him a few questions if he’s available.”
She furrowed her brow and placed her hand on her chin. “Yes, I know of her, but I thought that case was solved years ago.”
“It was closed, yes,” Kyle agreed, “but after all this time we’re not sure if the right person was convicted.”
“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Burke said, looking worried. She turned back into the house and called for her husband, who appeared quickly in the doorway.
“Shane Burke?” Kyle asked.
“Yes.”
“I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about Stella Jorgenson’s murder.”
Jenny watched with awe as Shane turned to his wife and easily convinced her that he wanted to have the discussion elsewhere—to protect her from unpleasant details of the murder. The descriptions may have been gruesome, he explained, and those weren’t images he wanted his wife to have to live with going forward.
Charming, Jenny thought. He was then, and he is now. Although, she gathered deceitful and manipulative could have just as easily been used to describe him, both then and now.
Doctor Burke walked with Jenny and Kyle out to a screened-in gazebo, complete with three ceiling fans that provided a delightful breeze. They sat at a glass-top table with chairs that boasted thick, comfortable cushions. Jenny found herself jealous of this little hideaway; it would have been a great place to spend an afternoon reading. She wondered if that was a luxury the Burkes deserved to have considering what one or both of them might have done all those years ago.
