Madness in Brewster Square

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Madness in Brewster Square Page 5

by Narielle Living


  When he opened his mouth to say something, his first words were not nearly as polite as they could have been. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Chapter Ten

  The only person in this world who can push me around and get away with it is my brother, and I’m working on not letting that happen too often. This guy was way out of his league.

  “What does it look like I’m doing, waiting for the ice cream truck to roll by?” I said.

  He looked as if he was grinding his teeth, and I swear I saw his entire body tense. “You are contaminating my crime scene.”

  “How do you know this was a crime?” I asked, more to antagonize the jerk than anything else.

  He spoke very slowly, as if I were an idiot. “Any time a death is an accident, suicide or homicide, the area becomes a crime scene. And right now, lady, you’re in the middle of my crime scene. You’re going to have to move.”

  I didn’t like the way he was talking to me, which probably contributed to my mouthing off. I’m usually much more reserved, but this time I couldn’t stop myself. “For your information, I was extremely careful not to contaminate anything. Give me a little bit of credit. In fact, you ought to be thanking me.”

  He put his hands in his pockets and looked at the ceiling, exactly the same way Rob had just a minute ago. I wondered if there was some sort of clue up there and couldn’t stop myself from checking out the rafters. Nope, nothing but cobwebs.

  “Officer, will you handcuff this woman, take her upstairs and Mirandize her?”

  I jumped up from the steps. “What are you talking about?” Rob stood looking from me to pink-shirt guy, obviously torn.

  “You are not cooperating in a police investigation, and right now you are a prime suspect in a murder,” he said.

  I knew a scare tactic when I saw one, but I wasn’t stupid, either. “There’s no need for that, Rob,” I said, stomping past both of them to the top of the stairs.

  Rob, sweetheart that he was, didn’t know what to do. From the top of the stairs I could hear him talking to the big idiot. “Um, do you want me to, I mean, should I …”

  “No need to handcuff her, just make sure someone sits with her so she doesn’t leave. I want everyone in this house rounded up and put in one room, and I want them to stay put until we have a chance to question every single one of them.”

  Rob came upstairs, and I could see he was all business. Gone was the sympathetic high school friend, and instead he became the police officer sworn to do his duty. I tried to remember something from my college psych classes that might bring the sympathetic friend back, but I don’t think we covered that sort of thing. How to Make People Be Nice to You after Finding A Dead Body 101.

  Taking me by the elbow, he began to steer me back toward the front of the house. “I need you to come into the front room with the rest of the folks and stay put.” He stopped in front of another police officer, this time someone I didn’t recognize. “Detective Rialto wants everyone in one room until we can question them. Let’s put them in the room with the fireplace, keep them comfortable while they wait.”

  “Robbie, what are you doing?” Charlie’s voice rang down the hall. Rob looked up and blushed, an immediate reaction he’d always had when he saw Charlie, and unfortunately one that had not faded with time. I looked at his left hand and didn’t see a wedding band, so maybe this would work in our favor.

  “Just doing my job, Charlie,” he answered. “I need you and Ava to go into the front room and wait for us to ask you a few questions.”

  “But we don’t even know what’s going on,” Charlie wheedled. “We were going to go out to grab a bite to eat. Maybe you could meet us at a restaurant later and ask us whatever you wanted to know?” Charlie was good, but I don’t think she realized that Rob’s code of honor would never allow him to screw up a potential crime scene. I could tell from the way his face hardened that this was not an option.

  “Sorry, but you’ll have to wait in the room with everyone else,” he said.

  Charlie leaned in close to Rob, whispering so only he and I could hear her. “But these people are really, really weird. Can we at least sit in another room while we wait for you so we don’t have to hang out with them?”

  “No.” The answer was short and clipped, and I could see that Rob was just doing his job. I had to admit, if I were him I wouldn’t let Charlie and me slink off to another room either.

  “It’s fine,” I told him. “We’ll wait there. Will we be talking to you, or do I have to talk to macho man down there?”

  I saw Rob try to hide a quick smile. “I think Detective Rialto would like to speak with you himself, but I’m not certain. Someone will be with you as soon as possible.”

  “Who’s Detective Rialto?” Charlie asked.

  “Detective Oliver Rialto,” Rob answered. “He transferred here a few months ago. He can answer any other questions you have.”

  Resigned, we went to the room that was designated for everyone in the house and stood at the edge of the doorway. I didn’t want to be part of that circus, as I could already hear the rumors, speculation and downright bizarre theories that were floating around. I took half a step into the room and stopped, standing next to a credenza. All I had to do was hang in there, answer a few questions, and then I’d be on my way.

  “Are you okay?” Stanley was behind me, hand on my shoulder. “That’s not the type of thing you see every day.”

  I shook my head. “It’s sort of unreal, you know? One minute someone’s alive, then they’re not. I’ve never seen a body like that before.” I knew I was about to start babbling, but I couldn’t help it. “I mean, I’ve seen dead people, but not people who have just died only a little while ago, so it’s creepy, and why can’t I stop talking?”

  Stanley reached out and took my hand, offering his support. All the chairs in the room were taken, so Charlie, Stanley and I found a spot on the other side of the credenza, sat on the floor and leaned against the wall. I wasn’t sure my legs could hold me up much longer.

  I thought we might be there for a few hours, at the least, but it was only about twenty minutes before tall, dark and obnoxious came into the room and gestured for me to follow him. I didn’t appreciate the way he summoned me, but I wasn’t given any choice in the matter. I was starting to feel a bit grumpy about the entire situation.

  Following him back into the kitchen, I couldn’t help but notice that he was a well-built man. A little over six feet tall, and I had to admit he had a really nice butt. That didn’t make me like him, but at least it gave me something to look at for the moment. When we got to the kitchen, he pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit.

  Sitting across from me, he pulled out a pair of reading glasses and a folder from a briefcase on the floor. I waited while he made a few notes, determined not to squirm or let his tactics bother me. Finally, he looked up at me. “So tell me something. You are Ms. Ava O’Dell, correct?”

  “Almost,” I said.

  His eyebrows raised as he continued to stare at me. “Ava Maria Sophia Cecilia O’Dell,” I corrected, “in case you need my entire name.”

  He nodded. “Duly noted. Now tell me, why should I thank you?”

  Confused, I tried to figure out what he was asking. “I don’t know, why should you thank me?”

  “Downstairs you said I should be thanking you. What did that mean?”

  I smiled as I realized I had information he would need for his investigation. “Because I know things.”

  Again his eyebrows raised as he looked at me. “And what, Ms. O’Dell, do you think you know?”

  This time I was smug. “I know three things. First, I know your officer that was first on the scene, Rob, didn’t finish his dinner before he came in here. Second, I know you are in the process of getting divorced; and third, I know who the body is downstairs.”

  Ha, take that Mr. Smug Detective. Let’s see what he thought of me now that he knew I was no idiot.

  Leaning
back in his chair, he pulled a business card out from under the folder. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning. My name is Detective Oliver Rialto, and I’ll be the person lucky enough to talk to you to figure out what happened. Here’s my business card. Now why don’t you tell me all about how you know these things?”

  “Easy,” I said. I was warming up to the idea that it really was easy, and maybe my career choice had just presented itself. Brief images of me as a private investigator floated through my head as well as the interviews I would give to the press after solving each case. “First, when Rob came to the top of the stairs, he was wiping his hands on one of those wet wipe things that people use when they’re trying to clean up. Since he’s working the night shift, he was most likely in his patrol car eating his dinner. Plus, ever since I’ve known him he’s been messy with his food. Second, you have a tan line where your wedding ring used to be, telling me you only recently took it off, meaning you’re in the process of leaving your wife. And third, I recognized the woman downstairs. Her name is Ethel Harwich.” I leaned back and smiled. I was a natural at this.

  Detective Rialto ran a hand over his face, as if he were tired. Of course, he could have just been embarrassed that I’d figured out so much in such a short period of time.

  “Okay, presuming that you’re right about the identity of the victim, I’d say that’s not bad.”

  I felt a moment of triumph. I wondered if I should think about renting a space to run my business or if I should work from home. “Thank you.”

  “Most citizens think they can be private investigators, but they really don’t have any idea what goes into it.” I smiled and nodded, waiting for the inevitable praise and suggestion to go into this line of work. “I think you fall into that category,” he said.

  Wait, what?

  “You were correct about maybe one out of three things. Maybe none, we’ll see.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “We have reason to believe that the incident tonight was not an accident,” Detective Rialto said. I was having trouble listening to what he was saying, as I was still trying to figure out what I’d gotten wrong. “If this person is indeed Ethel Harwich, do you know anyone who might have wanted to harm her?”

  I shrugged. “Take your pick. Nobody liked her. In fact, I’d have to say that she was the most hated person in Brewster Square.”

  The detective stared at me for a moment, his face unreadable. “Why would you have to say that?”

  “She was a very controversial figure in this town. She had a way of making people mad at her on a daily basis.”

  “A daily basis? That would require a lot of effort on her part.”

  I nodded. “I agree, but I don’t think she had a big family or anything, so she had time on her hands. I mean, she never had kids, and she was widowed, so she spent most of her time ticking people off.”

  Detective Rialto’s eyes never left my face. “Did she tick you off?”

  “Me?” I was surprised at the question, but gave it some thought. “Not recently, no. But she was the driving force behind getting the new development out here built, and that made a lot of people mad.”

  “Walk me through tonight’s events. What was your purpose in being here?”

  I told the Detective all about my brother and his paranormal investigation group, which was probably more than he wanted to know. But I was trying to be thorough, so I made sure to tell him all about Kenny and Kenny’s paranormal investigation group, and how there was an ongoing rivalry between the two groups. I started at the beginning, which was when we met in elementary school.

  Telling all the details took longer than I thought it would.

  “Why don’t we fast forward to the time you got here? What happened when you arrived tonight?” he said.

  Right. So then I told him all about seeing Stanley outside, and how happy I was to see him, but I chose to leave out the part where Stanley asked me on a date. That probably wasn’t relevant, and I didn’t want Stanley to be unnecessarily questioned. At least, that’s what I told myself.

  By the time I got to the part where I stood at the top of the basement stairs, ready to do my part in the investigation, I could see that my story was wearing on him. I paused for a moment, grabbed a bottle of water in front of me, unscrewed the cap and took a long drink.

  “You don’t have to tell me every tiny detail,” he said.

  “You never know what could be helpful in the end,” I said. “Sometimes it’s the small details that can make or break a case.”

  “It’s not like books or TV,” he said. “This is real life.”

  Seriously, where did this guy learn to be a detective? Everyone knew how important the details were. It took me another ten minutes to tell him about walking down the stairs and finding the body. I needed him to understand my hesitation about basements but not to think I was some kind of scaredy-cat. I finished my story at the point where he threatened to have me arrested. Looking at him, I shook my head. I hoped to convey my disappointment in him and the entire police department. Disappointment was a guilt trick I’d learned from my mother.

  Detective Rialto didn’t answer right away. Instead, he sat silently watching me. I knew he was waiting for me to blurt out some sort of confession, but I had nothing to say. I stared back at him, wondering if he was one of those guys who needed to shave every four hours or if the stubble on his face was the result of not shaving for more than a day.

  “Officer Rob was cleaning his hands because he’d been checking his vehicle’s oil. As for me, a divorce is about the furthest thing from the truth.” His voice was stern and a little bit low, so I had to lean forward to hear him well. “I suggest you get the idea out of your head that you can figure out what’s going on in people’s lives just by looking at pieces of events. Detective work is slow and painstaking and takes more than a casual observation.”

  “Ooookay,” I said. “I’m sorry?” I knew he had the power to arrest me, so I thought I should say something.

  With a sigh he leaned back in his chair. “You and your friend are free to go. You have my card if you remember anything else.”

  “What makes you think tonight wasn’t an accident?” I asked.

  He twirled a pen around with his large hands, scowling at the table. I wondered if the scowl was because I’d asked the question or because he was tired. I’d given him a lot to think about.

  Finally, he spoke. “Do you have a cell phone?”

  “Yes.” I wondered where this line of questioning was going.

  “May I see it?”

  Digging in my jacket pocket, I pulled out my phone and handed it to him. I didn’t say anything as he began to scroll through the screen, knowing that eventually he would explain. After a minute, he stopped his scrolling and handed it back to me.

  “We received a phone call from someone in this house earlier tonight,” he said. “The call might have been placed prior to the, um, event, but we won’t know for certain until after the medical examiner gives us a clearer time of death. The caller told the 911 dispatcher that death was lurking in this house.”

  That explained the police car we’d seen before we parked. “Don’t you have the phone number of the person who called?”

  “Yes. I’m just covering all the bases,” he said.

  “Must have been the gray-haired crazy,” I said. When he lifted his eyebrows at me, I launched into yet another detailed explanation of everything that had been going on here tonight. This time he listened more closely.

  “So you think the woman with the big gray hair may have been our caller?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Like I said, people have been acting loony all night.”

  “At the risk of sounding flippant, the fact that you have gathered here to hunt ghosts is in itself a little bit loony,” he said.

  He was right. I smiled at him before I remembered that I thought he was a jerk. He smiled back, and I wondered if my first impression needed amending. He was sort of cute in that
macho kind of way.

  “Like I said, you’re free to go, but if you plan on leaving town, let us know.” He stood and gestured toward the door.

  I guessed I’d given him enough so he could figure it out from here, so I walked to the front of the house where Charlie was waiting for me. “I’m starved, let’s go get some food,” she said.

  “Starlight?” I said. The Starlight Diner was located on Route 1 about a mile from where we were. It was open all night and had the best greasy food in the state of Connecticut. Charlie and I always went there for our serious discussions.

  “Do you want some company?” Stanley asked. I hadn’t realized he was standing near us and jumped a little at the sound of his voice. Seeing the look that passed between Charlie and me, he put his hands out in front of him and said, “Girls’ night, I know. Be careful, Ava. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

  I nodded, grateful that he understood without having to be told. As Charlie and I walked toward her car, I saw Giuseppe jogging toward me. My brother was not a jogger or a runner, so I wondered if there was a fire somewhere.

  “Ava, you’ve got to help me.”

  “I think I’ve helped enough for tonight. It’s bad enough I came here because you said so, but then I had to go find that body and deal with Detective of the Year.”

  Giuseppe’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Who?”

  “Detective Rialto,” I spit the words out. “He was incredibly rude, threatening to arrest me.”

  “You were obstructing justice,” Charlie said.

  “Let’s not remind her of that right now,” Giuseppe said. “Ava, I need you to do something for me.”

  I sighed loudly. One of these days I was going to be able to stand up to my brother and tell him I would not do his bidding. This was not one of those days.

 

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