Even after we were alone, neither Elena nor I broached the topic of her recent behavior. Rather, we went directly from the front door to her bed and consummated our continued relationship through make-up sex, without the fight. The sex was great, but even though unspoken, it was obvious to me that there was a cloud over the relationship. I just wasn't certain that she saw the same weather pattern.
CHAPTER TWENTY
At 7:00 a.m. Saturday morning, I kissed Elena good-bye at the door and headed back to Cap's Place. She was headed back to bed. She said that the few hours of sleep we had gotten thus far just wasn't going cut it for her. I felt surprisingly awake and recharged. It reminded me of days, long ago, when I was in the middle of an important trial. Three or four hours of sleep was all I allowed myself. Sleep was replaced by adrenaline. I felt that same way, wired. Still, I grabbed a large coffee at the Golden Arches for the drive back.
Moe was already at Cap's Place when I arrived. I drank another cup of coffee with him and then went upstairs to shave, shower and change my clothes. By the time I got back downstairs PJ was sitting at the bar drinking a Coke and chatting with Moe. Moe seemed in especially good spirits and I continued to believe it was because he was pleased that PJ and I were pursuing the investigation for Freeman Robinson. PJ asked if I had eaten and when I said no she said we could stop on the way for breakfast and she'd brief me on what she learned on Friday, so that we could plan our strategy for the day.
We stopped at an IHOP on our way across I-595. After we ordered, PJ pulled a notepad from her satchel. She immediately jumped in with, "I started by looking at the police reports and the transcripts again to see if there was any mention of anyone attempting to verify Bennett's alibi. Just as we recalled, there is absolutely no mention, anywhere. Now, that doesn't mean that it didn't happen, but given the seemingly insignificant things that were detailed in the reports from the early days of the investigation, I doubt that it would have gone unmentioned."
I asked, "Any way we could verify it at this late date?"
PJ replied, "Always possible. I thought about that, so I tracked down the company that he worked for at the time. They still exist, but they moved from Pineywoods to LaBelle a few years ago. I called, but the young girl answering the phone said she couldn't help me, that I would need to talk to the manager. He wasn't in yesterday, but he would be in today. She mentioned he uses Saturday's to catch up on paperwork, so even though they're closed, he's around the office until mid-afternoon. LaBelle is a little out of the way, but I thought we would swing through and see if they still have records for that far back."
I said, "On the other hand, not verifying his alibi at this late date doesn't really prove anything, one way or the other."
"No it doesn't, but if we were able to verify it somehow it would eliminate him as a suspect and to be perfectly frank, I can't eliminate him otherwise. Not at this point."
I nodded and said, "I know what you're saying. Does sound like there were troubles between them. If the investigation was fresh he would definitely warrant a hard look. The other thing that bothers me about Bennett is his denial of a relationship between Jessica and Freeman. It's pretty obvious that a relationship existed, although in his defense, sometimes the parents are the last to know."
"Yeah, if he was lying it could have been because Freeman is black and he just couldn't accept that, or it could have been for purposes of making Freeman a stronger suspect. Hard to know. Maybe we should push old Butch Bennett on that topic a little bit."
We fell silent for a few minutes as the waitress delivered our breakfast and we started to eat. I didn't understand why I was so hungry until I remembered that the only thing I had to eat last night was a few hors d'oeuvres. For some reason I'd forgotten to eat before meeting Elena for the party.
PJ finished her much smaller breakfast, first. Her order had continued to support my theory that women never really eat in public. Must be a genetic predisposition to public starvation. While I was still eating she resumed briefing me. "I did background work on the four friends of Jessica mentioned by Amanda. They have all married, although two of them are divorced and again using their maiden names. Two have moved from the state, one is in a small town in upstate New York and the other is in California. I reached both of them by phone yesterday afternoon. Neither of them really added anything to what was attributed to them in the original police reports, other than the opinion that Freeman was really in love with Jessica, but that she was losing interest in him."
I commentated, "Wouldn't be the first time that constituted motive for murder."
"Tell me about it. The interesting part was that both women were adamant that they didn't think Freeman Robinson would kill Jessica. They said he treated her like a princess."
I mused, "Interesting, Windy said Freeman treated every girl he dated like royalty. That's one area of his personality that people seem to agree on."
PJ nodded and said, "Well, both of these women mentioned that he did have a temper, but that they had never seen him lose his temper with Jessica, or any other of the girls he dated."
I scoffed and said, "That doesn't equate. There is nothing more maddening than a woman. How could he have a temper and not lose it with a woman. Not saying he would harm her, but I don't believe he never lost his temper with a woman."
PJ frowned and replied, "I won't comment on your assertion that there is nothing more maddening than a woman, but I will agree that people with tempers usually see them flare up in personal relationships. Maybe Freeman is a Jekyll and Hyde, maybe the way he acted with girls in public was different than the way he acted in private. Maybe we need to track down some of the other women he dated back in high school."
I nodded, but said, "We can do that, but that tactic goes more to proving that he was capable of Jessica's murder. If we really don't think he did it, and time is so short, maybe we better first focus of leads that could prove innocence."
"Good point Counselor, I knew I brought you along for more than your winning smile."
I asked, "You talked to the two friends who moved out of state, what about the other two? Any luck with them?"
"Yeah, one is married, Sophie Campbell is now Sophie Walsh. She still lives just outside Pineywoods on a ranch. The other, Olivia Cooper, was married, but is now divorced and back to using her maiden name. She lives right there in town. If what I found is correct, she lives with another woman, who is also divorced, a . . . ," PJ was looking at her notes, obviously searching for the name. She looked up and said, "I knew I had it here somewhere, Laura Atkinson, that's her housemate's name."
"Did you reach either of them, Campbell or Cooper?"
"Didn't try. They're right there in the area. I'd rather talk face to face."
"Good point Detective, I knew I came along for more than your winning personality."
PJ looked me in the eyes and smiled. A warm smile. The kind of smile that can unleash pent-up fantasies in a guy like me. Easy big guy, don't forget about Elena. More importantly don't forget about Elena's father.
We spent a few more minutes talking about the information PJ had sucked out of cyberspace on Friday and our strategy to most effectively use our day. It was about 9:30 a.m. when we left the IHOP and headed for LaBelle.
Traffic was light that early on a Saturday and PJ seemed to push the speed limit just a bit as we headed west across The Alley. Where I-75 crosses the Everglades it's referred to as Alligator Alley because a look out the window of your car on a warm sunny day will almost always provide a passing glimpse of an alligator sunning on the banks of the canals. I told PJ that I was going to count alligators, but got bored at fifty and quit.
We turned north toward LaBelle on State Road 29. It took us through Immokalee, that looked to me like any other tired inland Florida town fighting to maintain its existence. My comments brought a steady stream of facts from PJ including the fact that the local high school with its twelve-hundred students has seen five alumni play football in the NFL. The woman n
ever ceases to amaze me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
We found the business that PJ had identified as employing Daniel Bennett at the time of Jessica's murder. It was housed in a single-story, steel-sided building located just south of LaBelle. Three truck bays with closed roll up doors lined one side of the building. A door flanked by two windows constituted the front entrance. A single pickup truck stood in front of the building. Otherwise, there were no signs of life.
We walked in the front door and found ourselves in a small reception area flanked on one side by a counter. As we approached the counter, a large man with the complexion of someone who spends a lot of time outdoors looked up from behind a desk and asked, "May I help you?" His tone wasn't friendly, but it wasn't unfriendly either. It was more skeptical, as if he had instantly surmised that PJ and I were in the wrong place.
PJ introduced us and told him that we were looking into the murder of Jessica Parry. This brought a quizzical look to his ruddy face. He cocked his head as if trying to comprehend what she'd said and then you could see the understanding slowly materialize. He stood and walked in our direction with the slow gate of a man whose's body is starting to rebel against him. He rubbed his chin as he approached and I noticed his hands were cracked and rough. Working man's hands. The same skeptical tone, "Little late to be looking into that, isn't it?"
PJ replied matter of factly, "Never too late when there are unanswered questions." She handed him her business card.
He nodded slightly, "Name's Jacob Aarons, but everyone calls me Jake. What unanswered questions would you be talking about?"
PJ said, "Daniel Bennett was employed here at the time and said he was out of town working when his daughter was murdered. We were wondering if there were any company records that would verify that?"
"Daniel . . . oh, you mean Butch." Now the tone was distinctly less friendly, "And why ask that at this point, eight or ten years later?"
PJ hesitated. I knew what she was doing, she was hoping he would fill the silence with the answer to her question without waiting for her answer to his. That was not going to happen. PJ said, "The police reports are a little vague. We're just trying to be thorough."
His eyes narrowed and Jake said, "Maybe somebody should have thought about being thorough back then."
I asked, "The police didn't talk to you at the time?" I tried to sound naive.
"Talk to me, they wouldn't have talked to me. I was working out in the field just like Bennett back then. They would have talked to old man Henderson. He was running the place back then."
PJ asked, "But, you don't think they talked to Mr. Henderson at the time?"
"I know they didn't. Henderson told me so several times when we talked about the whole thing. Nobody ever contacted anyone here."
I asked, "Do you have records from back then? Is it possible to determine if Butch Bennett was working out of town like he said he was?"
He shook his head and scoffed, "Records wouldn't prove shit, but we don't have any from back then anyway. Had a fire five years ago, that's why we moved here. The office and half the warehouse went up. Fire took all the records."
"Why do you say the records wouldn't prove anything anyway?" I asked.
"Shit, our drivers leave on a Monday with a truck load and a route to make deliveries to ranches and farms. A guy, especially a guy like Butch, can pad his hours, rearrange his route, do all kinds of things. Half the time the customers aren't even there when we drop off supplies. They may not even know what day we delivered. Some guys wouldn't do their report until they got back in three, four, days later. They'd just spread the deliveries out across the time they were gone on the reports. Butch Bennett was as devious as they come. That's why I say the reports wouldn't prove anything, even if they did still exist."
PJ said, "Sounds like you knew Bennett pretty well when he worked here."
"Yeah, I guess I knew the bastard as well as anybody around here did."
"How was his relationship with his daughter, Jessica?"
The big man's shoulders slumped, "In the beginning it seemed great. When he married her mother and adopted Jessica he was always talking about her, about things they did together. He even took her on his route a few times when she was young. Wasn't supposed to, but nothing was said. Didn't do no harm, so Henderson looked the other way." He paused and then continued, "Then something changed about the time she was twelve, thirteen, years old. He started bad mouthing her every time he talked about her. By the time she graduated from high school he was calling her 'that little whore' nearly every time she was mentioned."
PJ pressed, "Any idea what changed his attitude toward her?"
Rubbing his chin again Jake said, "I really don't know. It was just like a switch got thrown one day. She went from being the apple of his eye to being a 'little whore' overnight." Another pause and then, "I got the feeling Jessica was a little rebellious as she became a teenager. I'm sure that didn't sit well with Butch. He prided himself on being the king of his castle. If she rebelled against his rule, I'm sure it would have set him off."
I asked, "Do you think Butch would have ever assaulted Jessica?"
"You mean hit her? I don't know. Maybe. He did have a temper and I did hear him talking about knocking his wife around a little when she talked back to him. Heard him say things like, 'she was going on and on about my drinking a few beers, so I had to cuff her a couple of times to shut her up.'"
PJ followed up, "So he may have taken the same tact with Jessica if she talked back to him?"
"I guess it wouldn't surprise me. He was . . . probably still is, a real ass. That's one of the things that got him fired. Nobody wanted to work around him. Finally, Henderson said he'd had enough and fired Bennett." He spit out the next sentence as if it gave him a bad taste, "I heard the jerk somehow convinced the state that he was hurt on the job and now he gets a check for just sitting home on his butt."
I asked, "When was he fired?"
He scratched his head, "Oh, let me think. Five years, or so, ago. Yeah, just over five years ago, because it was just before we moved here. He never worked out of this place."
PJ said, "So, just before the fire?"
"Yeah, I know where you're going with that, but nothing was proven. Butch was Henderson's number one suspect, and the cops were all over him, but nothing was ever proven."
I said, "So, the fire was definitely arson?"
"Oh yeah, it was arson all right. Somebody poured gasoline all over the place and torched it. Never could prove who though. The fact that it was arson held up the insurance for a long time. We almost folded up before the money finally came through." He cocked his head to one side, "Tell you the truth, I doubt that Butch set the fire. He was a loud mouth, but I don't think he'd have the brains to pull something like that off. The cops said that some type of sophisticated ignition system was used, that if someone had just lit a match, given the amount of gasoline fumes that must have been in the building at the time, that we would have found the arsonist burned to a crisp. I guess they found parts indicating some type of delayed timer that ignited the fire. Butch ain't that smart."
PJ looked Jake in the eyes, "Do you think Butch could have killed his daughter?"
He shot back, "Could he? Damn right he could have. One of his drunken rages. Sure he could have. Did he? I don't know. And you sure as hell won't know either, at this late date. I never understood why the cops didn't come around and ask any of us any of these questions at the time. Henderson and I talked about it many times. Why didn't anyone come to talk to us?"
PJ and I looked at each other before she said, "We don't know the answer to that, but we're going to try to find out."
I asked, "Is this Henderson still around the area?"
"He is, but he won't talk to you."
"Why not?"
"Because he's dead. Died three years ago."
We spent a few more minutes talking, but nothing more definitive came out. As we left, PJ stressed to Jake to call her if anyt
hing came to mind. The big man agreed, and I believed he would.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
On the drive between LaBelle and Pineywoods, PJ and I talked about Butch Bennett. We both agreed that he sure sounded like the kind of guy who could have killed his daughter in a drunken fit. It was obvious that there were problems between the two of them. Could have been problems typical of a teenager acting out that he just couldn't handle because of his temper and drinking. Yet, by the accounts we were hearing, these were not typical, but serious problems. I said, "So, Amanda Bennett must have known what was going on. Yet, evidently she didn't say anything about it during the investigation."
PJ scoffed, "Damn Jack, you heard Bennett quoted as saying he knocked Amanda around. You know as well as I do that battered women don't come forward of their own volition very often. Since Davies never really considered Bennett as a potential suspect he would never have asked her the right questions. A good investigator talking to Amanda Bennett would likely have recognized the symptoms of a battered wife and dug deeper. Who knows what might have come out."
"Maybe if we talk to her now, she'll open up. After all, she's not under his thumb any longer."
PJ nodded and said, "Maybe, but we'll really need to talk it through with Dr. Burns first. If she was battered, those are the kinds of memories that could really cause her to clam up."
"Of course, but I don't think we're going to talk to her about anything without it going through Dr. Burns first." I thought about it a second and then added, "And I guess that's the way it should be. The last thing we want to do is give her cause to retreat deeper into her darkness."
Driven Be Jack_A Jack Nolan Novel Page 12
