I stood nervously at Elaine’s front door as we waited for her to answer. Shortly after he finished his second set of knocks, Elaine swung the door open. To say she wasn’t happy to see us would have been a gross understatement. She had a head full of steam and wasted no time in teeing off on us.
“You two have a lot of nerve,” she said.
My brother wasn’t about to let a suspect bark at him like that. “Need I remind you that I’m a police detective?”
Elaine didn’t let up with her tone of voice at all. “Did you come back with any evidence to arrest me with? Or do you only have more wild speculation?”
Joe continued to demand respect from Elaine. “Do not raise your voice to me.”
Elaine wasn’t deterred. If anything, my brother’s lack of an answer to her question only emboldened her. “I didn’t think you had anything on me. The fact that you don’t gives me all the more reason to be angry at you for intruding in my life like this.”
It was time to put a stop to her railing against us. I spoke up. “I wouldn’t say that we have nothing.”
Elaine turned her ire on me. She shot a glare my way. “What are you talking about?”
“You lied to us,” I replied.
She became defensive. “About what?”
“We know your divorce wasn’t nearly as seamless as you let on,” I said.
Joe piled on. “From what we heard, George was determined to fight you for every penny.”
Instead of becoming more defensive, Elaine continued lashing out. “Mike Griswold told you that, didn’t he? That weasel. Can’t you see? He was just trying to throw the blame off himself.”
“It doesn’t matter who told us,” Joe argued.
“Yes, it does,” Elaine replied. “You talked to Mike. Tell me he isn’t just dripping in guilt.”
“You are both guilty of trying to deflect our questions, but we’re not stopping until we get answers. We don’t care who is pointing the finger at who. All we care about is the truth,” Joe explained.
“Then go hound Mike. I already answered your questions,” Elaine insisted.
“That may be so, but you didn’t tell us the whole truth. For example, we know the real reason you filed for divorce was because George was having an affair with Kristal Stanfield,” I said.
“Who was Mike’s girlfriend at the time. Talk about a motive,” Elaine argued.
“For both him and you,” I pointed out.
Elaine groaned as she looked ready to blow her top completely. “I’m only going to say this one more time. I didn’t have anything to do with George’s murder.”
“You keep saying that, but with no proof, they are just empty words,” Joe replied.
Elaine fired back. “Last time I checked, you don’t have any proof, either. Now, I have nothing else to say to you.”
Joe tried to stop her. “We’re not done here.”
“Yes, we are,” Elaine replied.
My brother and I had come back there thinking we could wriggle some crucial information out of Elaine. Instead, we only managed to upset her to the point that she slammed her front door in our faces.
What an anticlimactic end to the conversation, not to mention the last way I wanted the interview to end.
Unfortunately, as much as it bothered me to admit, Elaine was right. With no hard evidence pinning her to the crime, we couldn’t force her to talk. That left us with no choice but to move on.
Chapter Thirteen
My brother and I were now left with one final suspect. While Kristal Stanfield was last on our list, she certainly wasn’t least, especially considering that she was George’s former mistress.
Joe and I approached the green front door of her brown stucco bungalow not knowing exactly what to expect. Even so, when she answered the door after only a few knocks, it took us by surprise. That almost never happened. Typically, my brother had to pound on a door a number of times before he could rouse a suspect.
If the quick answer from Kristal wasn’t odd enough, she also gave us a warm greeting. That would surely change when we revealed why we were there, but the hospitality was nice while it lasted.
Kristal was an athletic woman in her early thirties with long strawberry-blond hair in a ponytail. With her hair pulled back, I noticed both her crystal blue eyes and her angular face even more. She wore yoga pants and a hooded sweatshirt. What caught my eye the most was what she had in her hand.
Kristal held a glass filled with some kind of green concoction. It looked like a kale and spinach smoothie, which was popular with both dieters and hardcore fitness enthusiasts . I knew those smoothies all too well from my previous career as an actress. Kale and spinach were great at keeping the pounds off, but they weren’t so inviting to the taste buds.
Thankfully, since leaving Tinseltown, I had also eliminated kale and spinach as a staple in my diet. That being said, just looking at Kristal’s smoothie gave me flashbacks to years past, when keeping a slim figure was almost as crucial to maintaining my acting career as my actual acting ability was.
While I was fixated on Kristal’s drink, my brother flashed his police badge at her and explained why we were there.
“I can’t believe George is dead,” Kristal replied.
Joe elaborated. “He’s not just dead. He was murdered.”
“That’s even worse.” Kristal sighed. “What sad news.”
Joe nodded. “It is, but we’re determined to make sure that justice is served in this case.”
Kristal scrunched her nose. “Okay. Only, what does that have to do with me?”
“We were hoping you could help,” Joe said.
“How?”
“We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
Kristal shrugged. “All right. Come on in.”
I couldn’t believe it. I had fully expected her to clam up or become antagonistic with us. Instead, she invited us inside her house, no questions asked. What a head-scratcher.
I felt as if we had wandered into some alternate reality, especially when I saw how nonchalant she was being. Either she didn’t truly grasp what was going on, or she didn’t have anything to hide from us. I had to find out which it was.
Kristal wasn’t done defying my expectations. “Are you thirsty?”
I realized that I could use her smoothie as a talking point to slowly ease our way into the interview. After all, the smoothie definitely looked out of place during the holidays, a time of year when diets traditionally went south to die.
“Maybe if that was eggnog,” I said.
Kristal recoiled. “Eggnog? Blech. That stuff is gross.”
“I think it fits right in with the spirit of the holidays,” I said.
“Maybe so, but I work hard for this body. I’m not going to torpedo all my dieting efforts just because it’s the holidays. To me, green smoothies are always in season,” Kristal replied.
That was the epitome of blech in my mind. Then again, I wasn’t there to judge her on her diet decisions. At the same time, I did see an opening to transition into the more pressing matters at hand.
“I’ll pass,” I said.
“Me too,” Joe added.
“Your call. Different strokes for different folks,” Kristal replied.
I slid in a sly question. “Did George Dolan like those green smoothies of yours?”
Kristal gave me a puzzled look. “How would I know?”
I stared her down. “Kristal, we know you had an affair with George.”
Kristal put her hands on her hips and appeared perplexed. “Why are you bringing that up?”
“Do you really not get it? Because he was just murdered last night,” I replied.
Kristal calmly disputed my point. “I had nothing to do with that.”
“You say that, but your affair led to both George’s divorce and your relationship with Mike Griswold breaking up. That’s a serious motive for murder.”
“Motive?” Kristal shook her head. “No, you’ve got it all wrong.”
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“So your affair didn’t lead to George’s divorce?”
Kristal sighed. “Okay, so it probably didn’t help.”
It took some nimble work to wade through her answers. Not only did she refuse to admit to anything, but she acted as though understatement was her best friend.
“How about Mike Griswold? You have to be willing to admit that your affair tore your relationship apart,” I said.
She lowered her head. “It was the beginning of the end, all right.”
“Beginning of the end or the final nail in the coffin?” I asked.
Kristal bit the corner of her lip. “What do you mean?”
“Before Mike found out about your affair, was your relationship on solid ground, or were you already fighting a lot?” I asked.
She stared me down. “How did you know that we had already been fighting a lot?”
“It’s my job to know these things,” I said.
“That being said, I didn’t have anything to do with George’s death,” Kristal replied.
My brother jumped back into the conversation. “Murder,” he corrected. “And you can keep saying that all you want, but there’s no denying that you are a suspect in this case.”
She tried to shrug him off. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Joe held firm. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
Kristal’s eyes grew wide. “Wow, did you come to the wrong place.”
Joe scoffed. “It’s crazy. Every suspect says that, but none can prove their innocence.”
Kristal stared my brother down. “Try me.”
Joe fired right back at her. “Fine. Where were you between seven and eight last night?”
“I was teaching an aerobics class,” Kristal replied.
“If that’s true then there should be plenty of people who can verify your story,” Joe said.
She nodded. “There is. You can ask any of my students. Or you can just go to Fitness 4 All Gym on Bleacher Street. They have security cameras all over the place.”
“You’d better not be lying to us,” Joe said.
Kristal didn’t waver. “I’m not.”
“We’ll see about that,” Joe said.
No wonder Kristal had been so nonchalant. Unlike most of the other suspects, she actually had an alibi. Or a supposed alibi. My brother and I headed over to the gym to see if Kristal had been telling us the truth. Much to our surprise, when we arrived at the gym, the general manager pulled the security tapes from the previous night for us. As we watched the footage play back in front of us, whatever doubt was in our minds over Kristal’s alibi completely evaporated.
There was no mistaking what we saw. Just as she had told us, Kristal had been teaching an aerobics class during the time of the murder. After seeing the footage exonerating Kristal of any wrongdoing, we had no choice but to cross her off our suspect list.
Chapter Fourteen
My brother and I had suddenly hit a brick wall in our investigation. There were no other suspects left to question and no more leads to follow up on. All we had was plenty of suspicions to go around.
We both knew it would be wise to take a break. If we pulled back, maybe it would give us a little perspective on this case. At the least, it would give our minds a rest.
In my heart, I felt like we were close to cracking this case. All we needed was to catch a break. My brother dropped me off at home, where my aging Labrador retriever, Buster, was waiting for me. Even though he was fifteen years old, he still craved just as many walks as when he was a puppy.
I was happy to oblige. My thoughts tended to wander when I was out for a walk. That reprieve from the case could really come in handy.
“Does someone want a walk?” I asked. “Let’s go.”
Buster wagged his tail vigorously while I attached his leash to his collar.
It was a clear, cool day outside. There was a briskness in the air. Buster didn’t care about any of that. He just wanted to sniff anything and everything in sight: trees, mailboxes, cars. It was a little bit of a misnomer to say that I took Buster out for a walk. He was the one who walked me.
That was how I found myself in front of George Dolan’s house. Buster had caught sight of a squirrel and chased it until the furry little bugger scurried up a tree. My dog’s focus remained on the squirrel that now happily sat atop one of the tree’s branches.
I couldn’t help but stare at George’s place. In the daytime, his hundreds of strands of lights didn’t look like anything special. If anything, it was the yellow police tape that stood out to me at the moment. It was only at night that the place lit up and truly came alive. Then again, being there during the daytime could prove fortuitous. The last time I was there was at night, without my trusty dog at my side.
If Buster was so eager to sniff things, I would give him a new venue to poke around. I looked to my left and right to make sure no one was watching us, then I led Buster behind George’s house to his back patio.
I didn’t know what I was searching for exactly. My brother’s forensics team had thoroughly gone over the backyard for any evidence and had found nothing. Still, I felt like it wouldn’t hurt for Buster’s nose to have a chance to sniff something out.
After my dog had sniffed every inch of the backyard with no luck, I decided to cut through Bill Goldman’s backyard and head toward Cardinal Drive. That had most likely been the killer’s escape route. After all, on the night of the murder, the front of George’s house had been entirely lit up with bright lights. The murderer had probably parked on Cardinal Drive then cut through Bill’s yard to get to George’s back patio.
As I walked, I looked around for anything that caught my eye. It was then I saw something interesting. The night of the murder, my brother and I had come back here as well, but it had been very dark then.
Now, in the daylight, other details about the street and the neighbors’ houses came into view. I focused on Amy Maloney’s house, which was across the street and one house over from Bill Goldman’s. As I looked closer, of specific interest to me was what I saw mounted above Amy’s front porch. Suddenly, what I had completely missed in the dark stood out to me in the light. After all my searching, I found myself staring down the key to blowing this case wide open.
Chapter Fifteen
After I met with Amy Maloney, my hunch was confirmed. What a fateful walk that had proven to be. Suddenly, the case was no longer stale. Having been injected with new life, I knew the time to strike was now. I called my brother and asked him to meet with me. From there, armed with the new investigative ammunition, we headed over to Renegade Reggie’s RV Rodeo.
A short time later, Mike Griswold entered his boss’s office, obviously expecting to see Renegade Reggie sitting at his desk. Imagine his surprise when Mike saw me sitting there instead.
Mike snarled at me. “What are you doing here? Where’s Reggie?”
“Don’t worry about your boss. You’re the one who should be worrying right now,” I said.
“Nice try, but I’m out of here,” Mike snapped.
He turned around to walk away.
My brother appeared in the doorway behind him and blocked his way. Mike wasn’t going anywhere.
“Not so fast, Mr. Griswold. We need to talk to you,” Joe said.
Mike narrowed his eyes. “I don’t have anything more to say to either of you.”
“That’s fine with us. We’ll do the talking,” I said. “To start, it’s time for you to come clean.”
Confusion was all over Mike’s face. “What are you talking about?”
“Mike, we know you killed George,” I said.
Mike continued to plead his innocence. “How can you possibly know that? Especially since I didn’t do it.”
I pounded my fist on the desk. “Stop lying.”
He tried arguing with me again. “I’m not—”
I reached into my purse, pulled out a digital videotape, and threw it on the table. “This tape says otherwise.”
Mike stared at
the tape with laser-like focus. “Where did that come from?”
I filled him in. “A security camera mounted over Amy Maloney’s front porch on Cardinal Drive. But let me be clear. Where the tape came from isn’t nearly as interesting as what is on the tape.”
Mike got choked up and fell silent.
“This tape shows you parking on the street in front of Bill Goldman’s house at seven fifteen on the night of the murder. From there, you cut through Bill Goldman’s yard, heading toward George’s backyard. At seven nineteen, there is video of you returning from George’s place as you went back through Bill Goldman’s yard on the way back to your car. After that, the footage recorded you starting your car and speeding away,” I said. “Now what do you have to say for yourself?”
Words failed Mike at that moment. Actions did not. In a panic, he reached out and grabbed the tape.
I chuckled. “Go ahead. That tape is all yours. We made copies.”
“Many copies,” my brother added.
I stared Mike down. “Like I said, we know you killed George. It’s time to come clean.”
Mike shook his head in denial. “No. This can’t be happening.”
I turned up the heat. “Oh, it’s happening, all right. It must really burn you. There you were, thinking you had gotten away with murder, but it’s over. Come clean.”
Mike averted his eyes and lowered his head. A moment later, he took a deep breath and groaned. “George destroyed my life. It was one thing getting beat out for that promotion. That was bad enough. The pain he caused me didn’t stop there, though. I was still reeling from the news of losing that promotion to him when I caught him sleeping with my girlfriend. That was the last nail in the coffin. No way was I going to take that lying down. I was going to get my revenge at all costs. I knew the thing that gave him the most joy in life was the holiday light display he put up every year. So I figured there was no better way to get my revenge than by strangling him with his own lights.”
Meredith Potts Fourteen Book Cozy Mystery Set Page 54
