Chloe Boston 15 - Murder by the Book

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Chloe Boston 15 - Murder by the Book Page 6

by Jackson, Melanie


  I headed to where the action was not and found a temporary office trailer. Lots of yelling and swearing was coming from inside the trailer. There were several men leaning up against the back of the trailer listening in on the heated conversation. They didn’t look happy. Gathered around them were several more construction workers standing around doing nothing other than listening to the broadcast of the conversation coming from inside the office.

  “Apparently the city council was unable to green-light the project yesterday afternoon because some woman and a kid broke up the meeting with accusations of fraud and other abuses,” a particularly good-looking construction worker narrated. “They say they’re going to meet privately this afternoon to vote. We should begin working tomorrow morning.”

  The good-looking man stopped his narration when he saw me. All heads turned my way. Again, I received some whistles.

  “Now, now, boys. Settle down,” the good-looking man cautioned. “Now then, ma’am, is there something I can do for you.”

  As he approached he became bigger, his chest growing broader and definition coming to the muscles in his arms. Concentrate, I told myself. Calm down and concentrate.

  “I was wondering if I could speak with the foreman of the construction site,” I announced.

  “Well now, seeing as the foreman is in an important meeting right now, that I would recommend you do not disturb, I suppose the boss would be me.” He smiled. “My name is Ray. What can I do for you?”

  I didn’t necessarily believe that Ray had been left in command, but he seemed willing to talk and when I gave it some thought it seemed that talking to someone other than the foreman might provide more information. I smiled my winning smile and Ray’s own smile wilted just a little. Believe me, when it comes to flashing winning smiles, you’d better be packing a full house if you’re going to try to compete with me.

  “I was wondering if you might provide a tour of the construction site while I ask a few questions,” I said, dropping my eyes then looking up at him innocently while I twirled my hair with my finger.

  I knew that I wasn’t playing fair; but come on, this guy was easy. In response, his confident smile blurred into a fawning gaze. I knew then that I had him in the palm of my womanly hand. I guided him away from the others to hoots and catcalls.

  “Come on, fellas, give me a break,” Ray insisted, waving his hand at his coworkers in an attempt to shut them up.

  “Tell me about where we’re walking. What will we see when the construction is complete?”

  “Right now, we’re walking down the grand avenue of a new section of town. Two lanes in each direction with light-rail running down the center strip.”

  “You’re putting in light-rail?”

  “Well, not yet, but we’ll be setting aside the space for it. It’s all part of the urban planning aspect of this project. After all, you didn’t think we were going to stop with just this project, did you? Besides, if those city councilors give in and okay the initial plan, they’ll be too scared to stand up to any extremely desirable extensions.”

  I opted to ignore his slight of the city council. After all, who was I to defend or even explain their recent behavior?

  Right now, we weren’t walking down any grand avenue. We were crossing a vacant lot where several old warehouses had already been torn down. All that was left as proof of their existence were the cement slabs they were built on. There were a few scattered factory buildings still standing in the outskirts. The old cold war era apartments, slated to be torn down, were standing behind us.

  I shielded my eyes from the early morning sunshine and looked around the site. I had a hard time imagining what it could become in the hands of a powerful and determined man.

  “Tell me what I’ll be looking at when you’re finished,” I said again.

  “The grand avenue here will be lined with stores and restaurants. Homes will be built above the shops. Towers will supply office space above that. At the end of this avenue, right there, will be a huge shopping mall built around a performing arts center. Several parks and generous green spaces are located behind each row of buildings. It’s a new city within a city.”

  For a moment I could envision what he was describing. Looming over all of it I saw giant price tags on strings. Very thin strings.

  “Who’s financing all of this development?” I asked, trying to sound uninterested.

  “That’s the brilliant part. Initially the city will pay for it through bond measures. Right now the initial outlays are coming from a special investment opportunity involving the city workers’ pension fund, but that will all be paid back soon, with interest. Then once the shops and homes are sold or leased and the workspaces fill, the added taxes kick in to make the community self-sufficient.” He was sounding a bit like a sales brochure.

  Ray stopped and turned to me. The old confident smile was back. His eyes looked into mine.

  It was comforting to be old enough and experienced enough to know what that smile and look meant. It was equally comforting knowing that he wasn’t going to get what he was after. I had the sense that this was rarely the case and that he would be disappointed when he found out. I recognized that I’d better get my next few questions in before he went too far and I was forced to disappoint him.

  “Didn’t I hear rumors of fraud and corruption, influence peddling, that sort of thing?”

  “That’s all nothing but lies made up by the conservationists. If you thought that there was really truth behind any of it, wouldn’t you also expect there to be charges and subpoenas flying around?”

  “You are going to tear down the old Fox Theater.”

  “To build a new theater.”

  “And the rumors of poor construction quality and safety violations on previous projects?”

  “Well now, that would be old Cyrus you’ve been talkin’ to.”

  “Cyrus? You mean like as in Billy Ray?”

  “Yep. Except this Cyrus is Cyrus Knox.”

  “Would you happen to have an address or phone number for Mr. Knox?”

  “You know, you ask a lot of questions,” Ray observed. “What do you say you at least buy me dinner before pumping me so hard?”

  It looked like our conversation had come to an end. All that was left was the disappointment. However, before I got my chance to administer the disappointment, someone else, probably Ray’s superior, did the disappointing for me. I could tell he was Ray’s superior by the fact that he was overweight and wore a tie.

  “Ray! What in the tarnation do you think you’re doing leading this young lady around a dangerous construction site?”

  The path we’d traversed across the construction site didn’t look particularly danger-strewn to me. I was about to say so when Ray’s boss piped up again.

  “Now young lady, I’m going to have Ray escort you off the premises and I don’t want you coming back around here again without proper clearance.”

  “You mean from the likes of Randolph Rankles?”

  “That should do the trick. In Mr. Rankles’ presence would be even better.”

  “Why? You don’t have anything to hide, do you Mister, ah, ah? I’m sorry but I don’t know your name.”

  “My name is Nick Kincaid. And who might you be, young lady?” he asked, pulling a note pad and a pen from his pocket protector.

  “My name is Chloe Boston,” I blurted.

  “Chloe Boston?” Mr. Kincaid reacted unfavorably. “Not the woman from the city council meeting?”

  “I wasn’t the only one there,” I argued.

  “No, you were probably there with the old man’s son.”

  “His son?” I replied in astonishment. “Randolph Rankles has a son?”

  “Ray! Escort this lady from the premises before I do something rash.”

  Ray didn’t take me by the arm or anything. That wasn’t necessary. I knew when it was time to leave, and if ever there was a time to leave it was now.

  “I’ve never seen old chrome dome so ri
led up before,” Ray said as we walked. “You must have put on quite a show at that city council meeting.”

  “I’m sorry about costing you a day of work,” I acknowledged.

  “Oh, don’t worry about that,” he said charitably. “We get paid anyway.”

  “By the city workers’ pension fund?”

  He just smiled by way of an answer.

  Later in the morning, when I got home, I tried to get in touch with my dad to find out how he was planning to vote at the super-secret afternoon city council meeting. All I got was his answering machine.

  “Hi, Dad. Thinking of you. Bye.”

  I hoped that he did the right thing at the council meeting even as I pondered what the right thing might be. I knocked tentatively at Alex’s office door.

  “Hey, Chloe, come on in. What’s happening?”

  One thing I liked about Alex was that although he insisted on having an office with a closed door, he was never disappointed to be interrupted. That seemed like a reasonable compromise.

  “I need some information on two men. Well, one man and a boy actually.”

  “What are their names?”

  “Eddie Springer and Cyrus Knox.”

  “What? You mean our Eddie? You mean beer-and-dirty-videos Eddie?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “I hope you know what you’re getting into,” Alex warned as he spun around in his computer chair and started typing.

  Alex began with a simple search of the Internet. Both Eddie Springer and Cyrus Knox came up in news stories associated with protesting against Rankles and Edwards construction projects. My name appeared side by side with theirs. Even in the blog entries and tweet catalogs the three names were mentioned.

  “Chloe, what are you getting yourself into?” Alex asked.

  “Nothing, just keep searching.”

  A more detailed search went into public records on the two parties. It appeared that Eddie lived in a fashionable apartment right here in the town of Hope Falls. Cyrus Knox lived just outside Seattle. Alex retrieved addresses and phone numbers for both men. Eddie had an exemplary credit history. Cyrus Knox had a recent history of unpaid bills. Eddie Springer’s real name was Eddie Rankles and he was indeed the son of Mr. Randolph Rankles.

  The deeper we dug, the more we uncovered. Eddie had a long criminal record, starting with several juvenile offences recorded in a file which should have been sealed. Mr. Knox’s criminal record began recently and involved several disputes in and around a construction site in Seattle. It seemed that Cyrus had once been a foreman for Rankles and Edwards Construction until he began publicly decrying some of the construction materials and practices at the Seattle site. No recent activity had been recorded in Knox’s file. Both men were the owners of handguns.

  “So, did you find out what you need to know?” Alex asked.

  “Things are starting to make sense. I’m only missing one vital piece of information.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The identity of the murderer.”

  Chapter 11

  The day of the wedding the sun arose bright and crisp. I knew that it would warm up later in the afternoon, just in time for the wedding, but wore a sweatshirt against the early morning cold. I was to meet Agatha at noon at a downtown hair stylist’s shop named the Sassy Lady to have my hair and makeup done beside the bride. In the meantime, I couldn’t wait to hear her voice, so I grabbed my cellphone and gave her a call.

  “Hello, Agatha? This is Chloe. I’m calling to see how you slept.”

  “I had a bit of a restless night because of Lawrence.”

  I couldn’t help but notice this probably meant they were already sleeping together.

  “So, Lawrence is still nervous about the wedding.”

  “He’s all worked up about something he says he can’t tell me about.”

  “I’ll talk to Alex and see if there’s anything he can do.”

  “Actually, Alex and Lawrence have plans for this morning. It’s something the two of them cooked up. It may be what’s making Lawrence so upset. He said that my presence at the event was mandatory.”

  “Funny, Alex didn’t mention anything to me. When are you leaving?”

  “As soon as Alex calls. He said he would pick us up.”

  I heard bare feet padding across the floor into the kitchen.

  “Hold on, Agatha. I think I hear Alex coming.”

  “Who’s that on the phone?” Alex asked.

  “It’s Agatha, telling me about a special outing you have planned for this morning to which I’m not invited.”

  “Oh, that. I was going to tell you about that.”

  “Before or after the event in question,” I teased.

  “Before. Besides, I was assuming you’d be coming. Your presence as the bridesmaid is mandatory.”

  “Are you sure you want me there?”

  “You have to be there.”

  “Agatha?” I said into the phone. “It looks like I’ll be coming along after all. We’ll pick you up as soon as we get dressed. Maybe we can have breakfast together.”

  “That would be wonderful. See you soon, dear.”

  Agatha ended the call.

  “You’ll want to hold off on breakfast until after we’re done,” Alex suggested.

  “That’s an ominous warning,” I concluded.

  “It’s just that the event is time specific. We have about an hour. And by the way, dress appropriately.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I was hoping you would explain it to me,” he said obscurely.

  After we dressed, we dropped Blue off at my dad’s place to roam the fenced-in side yard in our absence. I made sure she had plenty of water and even gave her a bone I’d thought to bring along. As we pulled out of the driveway, I was happy to see my dog lying in the sun on the grass blissfully absorbed in bone chewing. It was going to be a good day for her.

  I wore a cream-colored dress with a floral print. I also had on a cute cropped sweater with sleeves against the early morning chill. In moderate heels, I thought I looked pretty. Alex complemented me. He wore his new business suit and tie.

  As we drove in the car to pick up Lawrence and Agatha, I hoped that Alex and Lawrence had a good day planned for all of us. I felt a bit at his mercy, which I never like. So, I asked him straight out.

  “Alex, where are we going and what are we going to do there?”

  “We’re going to Agatha’s place to pick up Lawrence and Agatha.”

  “Did you know they’re sleeping together?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “But what will we do after we pick up the soon-to-be newlyweds?”

  “You know, you ask a lot of questions.”

  “So I’ve been told. Recently.”

  “Why don’t you just sit back and see what happens this time?”

  We found Lawrence and Agatha waiting for us at the curb. Lawrence was dressed in a nice gray double breasted suit with blue pinstripes and a blue tie. He looked extremely nervous and uncomfortable. As we pulled up, I noticed they were holding hands. Agatha was equally nicely attired. Lawrence guided Agatha into the back seat then went around to get in on the other side of the car. I exchanged hugs and kisses with the couple over the back of my seat.

  “Well, my friend, are you ready to face whatever trials and tribulations might come?” Alex asked, smiling into the rearview mirror.

  Lawrence did not smile back. He returned a deadly serious glower. His expression made me shiver. Alex stopped smiling.

  “I’m ready to do what has to be done,” he explained.

  The ride into town was quiet. Everyone seemed absorbed in their own thoughts. My thoughts were split between my excitement over the day ahead and curiosity concerning our destination. We pulled up to the curb on a side street in the older part of town. I realized we weren’t far from the Rankles and Edwards construction site. Lawrence led Agatha up a steep flight of stairs that led to a door. Alex and I follo
wed.

  “The Fraternal Order of Owls,” Agatha said aloud as she read the sign on the glass pane inset into the door. “Lawrence, you’re an owl?”

  “As were my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather before me.”

  “I would have never guessed.”

  “You weren’t expecting we’d have feathers, were you?”

  Agatha laughed off the suggestion.

  “We can’t go in there, can we?” she asked.

  “Actually, you’re expected,” Lawrence replied, opening the door wide and leading the way inside.

  I knew little about the FOOeys, as we used to call them. I knew that they were a secret brotherhood that had been in existence for centuries in the Pacific Northwest. I knew that they gathered money that they used to fund charities and hospitals. I also knew that it was an extreme honor to be allowed into one of their ceremonial halls.

  I stepped through the door with Alex close behind.

  The foyer we entered was broad and dimly lit by bulbs set into the walls behind decorative sconces. The walls were paneled in rich dark mahogany. Doors led off to either side of the room including a large pair of double doors beside us. The floor was also made of dark wood but covered with richly colored Persian rugs. Lawrence stepped away to the corner of the room to a large gong mounted in a stand and grabbed the striker. He rang the gong three times, pausing between each strike to allow the sound waves to resonate through the building. I assumed that each strike was meant to announce a single outsider.

  A man dressed in purple robes and wearing a beaver-skin fez with large horns coming out of the sides of it came down the hall to greet us. He was wearing necklaces and rings signifying his place in the order. He also carried a gold staff with ornate scrollwork and jewels at the head which I took to symbolize his office. He looked like a cut-rate Merlin.

  “Grand Master, I announce my three guests. Mrs. Agatha Graves, soon to be my lawful wedded wife, Ms. Chloe Boston, her bridesmaid, and Alex Lincoln, Chloe’s husband and my best man.”

 

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