Girls' Night Out Murder (Ryli Sinclair 2)

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Girls' Night Out Murder (Ryli Sinclair 2) Page 15

by Jenna St James


  I laughed…only Paige. “Great job,” I said. “So which house? I’m thinking Sage because it’s so late in the morning, she’s probably already shown Montgomery.”

  “I agree. I just hope that’s the order she went in,” Aunt Shirley said.

  Paige pulled up Google Maps on her phone and typed in Sage Street. A few seconds later, I was heading toward the outskirts of town. I pulled onto a paved road. The houses out here were spread out a little farther since it was lakefront property. Each house had a private dock that led to the water.

  I was beginning to think we’d made a mistake when I heard Aunt Shirley yell. “There! The house on your right, and it looks like cars are there.”

  I saw where she was pointing. It was an impressive house, no doubt. It was also recently built. There was still a sign stating it was a Jim Cleary house in the front yard next to the For Sale sign.

  I didn’t pull into the small drive, instead I simply pulled over as far as I could and let the Falcon idle. No one said a word, we just watched as the front door opened and Whitney came down the stairs followed by a young couple holding hands.

  I turned off the car. “How do you wanna play this?” I asked Aunt Shirley.

  “Straight up. I say we tell her what we found and see how she reacts.”

  We watched as Whitney shook their hands and handed them a business card. The young couple got in their car and backed out in front of us. They took off in the opposite direction we were facing.

  “Let’s go,” I said opening my door.

  Whitney was still standing in the front yard doing a small victory dance. “I guess that means it went well,” I said, making Whitney scream. It was exactly what I’d wanted to do.

  “Don’t scare me like that!” she demanded, patting herself on the chest. “You gave me a fright.” She wrinkled her brow. “What are you doing here?”

  “We came to ask you a few questions,” I said.

  “What kind of questions,” she hedged.

  “We found one of your syringes at Julie’s house. Care to explain,” Aunt Shirley demanded.

  “Why were you at Julie’s house? It should be off limits. I drove by it this morning and there was still police tape up.”

  “Care to explain the syringe?” Aunt Shirley asked again.

  Whitney’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I don’t have to tell you anything. And the fact you went into Julie’s house when it still has police tape around it is against the law. It’s called breaking and entering in case you didn’t know.”

  I pulled the syringe out of my coat pocket. “The syringe we found…like Aunt Shirley said, care to explain?”

  Whitney’s mouth dropped open. “Omigod, did you pick it up? Your fingerprints are all over it now. You contaminated a crime scene! My uncle is gonna be pissed!”

  Crap! Did she say uncle?

  “Who’s your uncle?” I asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

  Whitney looked down her nose at us. “Chief Taggart.”

  “Does he have family all over this town?” I muttered.

  “How do you think I knew Julie’s whereabouts and when Jim would come into her office to see her?” Whitney sneered. “Tammi and I are cousins. Her mom and my mom are Chief Taggart’s little sisters.”

  Breathing at this point was almost becoming painful. I was honestly terrified.

  “And let me tell you, he’s gonna be livid you went into Julie’s house and took something!” She let out a harsh laugh. “I bet he doesn’t waste any time hauling you in. He told me this morning after your little visit to the station that he was going to let you stew a little, get you all worked up over the fact he was going to arrest you in a few days,” her eyes took on a wild look, “but after this little stunt, I bet he arrests you by tonight!”

  “Now wait just a minute,” Aunt Shirley said. I was glad she could talk because my mouth was so dry I couldn’t even open it. I could feel myself shaking. “No one said we were inside the house. We also drove by and saw the police tape. We decided to look in the windows and see if we could see something relevant to the case. We found the syringe on the back deck in plain view.”

  I needed to practice my lying. Aunt Shirley did it so well I actually believed what she was saying. “So don’t go gettin’ your panties in a bunch. No need to call your uncle.” Aunt Shirley paused as if thinking. “Oh, and we also noticed a screen was pushed out, too. I don’t know if that means anything.”

  Paige let out a nervous giggle. Whitney whipped her head around to glare at her. “I almost wish I’d have stuck around last night just to see my uncle make you sweat.”

  I jerked back as if she’d slapped me. Truth was, I wouldn’t have been more surprised if she had. “Wait, I just realized something. Last night when you were texting on your phone before you suddenly left…were you talking with your uncle? Did he tell you Julie had been murdered and he was coming out to question me?”

  Whitney shrugged. “Again, I don’t have to tell you anything. Although I will say, I don’t know how a syringe got on Julie’s deck…maybe Julie was using drugs. I mean, I doubt it, she was too fat to be a drug user.” Whitney suddenly laughed. “Maybe Jo the Ho was supplying Julie with drugs.”

  Jesus, what is it with this family and name calling?

  “All I know,” Whitney continued, “is you better stay away from me, or I seriously will call my uncle and tell him what you did. Trust me, he’s dying to haul you in for these murders.” Whitney turned and walked toward her car. She yanked the door open and glared at us. “One more thing…that’s not mine. The needle size is wrong.” Whitney yanked the car door closed and sped away.

  We all stood in silence…too stunned to speak.

  “Well, at least we know why Taggart seems more and more inclined to pin these murders on you,” Aunt Shirley said.

  “And why’s that?” I asked.

  “Could be he’s trying to take the heat off his niece,” Aunt Shirley said.

  “What do you think she meant by the needle size?” Paige asked as we headed for the Falcon.

  “Not sure…guess we need to do some research later on,” I said. “Let’s stop by the trailer park real quick to see about Jolene.”

  * * *

  It wasn’t too hard to find the trailer park where Jolene lived. There were only about fifteen other trailers in the park, each one looking sadder and sadder than the last. It was hard to believe that something so ugly and trashy could be mixed in with the hundred thousand dollar and million dollar homes the lake boasted. The trailers were eerily quiet considering it was the day before New Year’s Eve. I was guessing most of the residents didn’t get around too early in the morning…they were probably more night owls.

  Paige read off the trailer number from the address Susie had given us. It didn’t take long to locate the dilapidated, singlewide heap sitting in front of us.

  “Well, isn’t this a nice pile of dung,” Aunt Shirley said as she got out of the Falcon.

  At one time I’d say the trailer had been white, but now there was a plethora of browns and grays covering the outer aluminum panels. There was a fist-size hole in the door that had been patched up with duct tape. It wasn’t even the cute, colorful kind you can buy nowadays. Nope, this was just the traditional silver quick fix stuff.

  Plop! Plop!

  I looked down at my phone. It was a text from Debbie. Can u come over? Dealing with a lot.

  I looked over at the girls. “Debbie wants to know if we can stop by real quick. Guess she’s having a hard time today.”

  “Sure,” Paige said.

  I texted her we’d be over shortly. She sent back her address. Slipping the phone back in my pocket, I looked up at the nasty, dilapidated trailer.

  None of us were eager to walk up the broken wooden steps that led to Jolene’s front door. “Careful where you walk and what you touch. We don’t have time to get a Tetanus shot today,” I advised.

  “Well, let’s get th
is over with,” Aunt Shirley mumbled as she carefully started up the broken steps.

  I wasn’t sure the tiny deck would hold all our weight. The way it was creaking with just Aunt Shirley on it had me worried.

  Think thin…think thin! I repeated over and over in my head as I slowly made my way up the stairs. I glanced back to make sure Paige was close on my heels. I didn’t want to leave her outside for fear of something happening to her. The area didn’t exactly scream safe, friendly neighborhood.

  “Jolene,” Aunt Shirley said, knocking on the splintered and patched door. “Are you in there?”

  Silence.

  Aunt Shirley gripped the handle and twisted. None of us were really shocked when the door swung open. I couldn’t imagine there was much inside that needed locked and protected.

  The smell of rotten eggs, sewer, and cat urine permeating throughout the little trailer had my stomach rolling. I put my hand up over my mouth and nose to try and block the smell. Paige did the same thing.

  Immediately in front of us was the living room. It was sparsely decorated with one broken-down and dangerously sagging brown couch facing a TV that had to be thirty years old. There were no pictures or decorations on the walls, and there was no other furniture to really speak of. To our left was a tiny kitchen that didn’t even have a kitchen table. I’m sure there were countertops, but you couldn’t see them because of all the trash and old food covering them.

  The hallway to our right was so narrow a heavier person would have to turn sideways just to walk down it. Craning my neck, I could see three doors. I didn’t even want to venture what the bedrooms and bathroom looked like.

  My stomach rolled again. We needed to get out of here fast before I lost what little I had in my stomach.

  The piles and piles of trash littering the floor was mindboggling. I’d never seen anything so filthy in my life. Fast food wrapper, putrid milk jugs, animal feces…you name it, it was on the floor.

  “I’m thinking someone should have given her a garbage can as a housewarming gift,” Paige said matter-of-factly.

  I snorted repeatedly through my hand. Well, it was more a laugh, but with my hand covering up my vital breathing parts, it came out like little snorts.

  “Maybe a mop and broom,” Paige continued.

  I smacked her on the arm. “Stop, you’re making me laugh, and I don’t want to take in any more air than I already have to!”

  “Look over there,” Aunt Shirley said, pointing to a metal TV tray sitting next to the sagging couch.

  I took a step forward to see what she was pointing to, kicking trash out of my way. It didn’t take long for my eyes to hone in on the syringe. “Well, hell,” I said. “This doesn’t help narrow things down at all.”

  I knew I needed to look at the needle size like Whitney had made reference to, but I didn’t want to risk walking across the room. God only knew what might grab me.

  “Hey,” a deep male voice said behind us, “where’s Jolene?”

  Whirling around, my eyes widened at the sudden appearance of the scruffy-looking guy. I couldn’t tell his age, but I placed him between twenty to twenty-five years old. He had on greasy gray sweats and matching sweatshirt. He looked cold as hell.

  Usually I’d be a little more afraid being alone with a young male in a seedy place. However, his sunken cheekbones and emaciated body had me believing that even we could take him if we had to.

  “I said where’s Jo?” The man scratched his head, his wild eyes darting around the trailer.

  “We haven’t seen her in a few days. When’s the last time you saw her?” Aunt Shirley demanded.

  The man shrugged his bony shoulders. “What day is it today?”

  I rolled my eyes. “What do you want with her,” I asked, not really sure I cared to hear the answer.

  He laughed. “I got me an itch that Jo usually scratches.” He grabbed his crotch through his sweat pants and sent parts jiggling. “You get my drift?”

  I barely refrained from gagging and throwing up in my mouth. “Well, as you can see, she isn’t here,” I said forcefully, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

  He didn’t. Instead, his glazed-over eyes looked us up and down slowly. I was definitely going to shower when I got home. “Since she’s not here,” Scrawny shrugged, “how’s about one of you? I got ten bucks.”

  Aunt Shirley guffawed. “Ten bucks? Ha! You ain’t seeing my goodies for no ten bucks!”

  The meth-head wrinkled his nose. “I wasn’t exactly thinking of you, old lady. I was thinking of one of you bitches,” he said, pointing between Paige and me.

  “First off,” Aunt Shirley said, “you’d be lucky to have a go at someone like me. I’d rock your world, little boy.”

  “Eewww!” I exclaimed. “Gross!”

  Scrawny shrugged again. “I guess maybe I’d give you a go. You do have cool hair.”

  “Aunt Shirley,” Paige hissed, “just stop talking. You’re going to get us in trouble.”

  “How’s about fifteen bucks and I do you all?” Scrawny lunged toward Paige. I leapt onto his back and started beating him over the head with my hands, screaming obscenities at him the whole time. Turning in circles he tried to shove me off.

  “Stand back,” Aunt Shirley shouted as she reached inside her coat and unzipped a pocket. I jumped off Scrawny’s back and gave him a good shove. He stumbled and would’ve gone down but the antiquated TV caught his fall. I quickly pulled Paige toward me.

  “This is for thinking we were easy, asshole!” Aunt Shirley aimed the can of Mace and sprayed with everything she had. The guy’s screams of pain had me in a panic. We needed to haul ass outta there and fast.

  “Let’s go!” I yelled, shoving Paige out the door with my right hand and grabbing ahold of Aunt Shirley’s parka with my left. I yanked her through the front door just as the guy clamored to his feet.

  “When I catch up to you, you bitches are gonna pay!”

  I already had my keys out as we stumbled down the stairs and jumped into the Falcon. My hands were shaking as I shoved the key into the ignition. The Falcon roared to life. I careened out of the tiny yard as the stranger staggered out of the door, tears streaming down his red face, fist shaking in the air.

  Aunt Shirley rolled down her window and flipped him the bird. “Catch that you sick piece of shit!” Laughing, she rolled the window back up. “God I miss being a private eye.” Turning in her seat she said, “I’m thinking about coming out of retirement.”

  Chapter 22

  Paige pulled up directions on how to get to Debbie’s house. She was outside the city limits—almost to a neighboring town across the lake.

  I turned off the blacktop road and onto a gravel road. A few minutes later a modest two-story house appeared on the left. There were numerous snow-covered plastic toys in the front yard, along with a large, wooden swing set and slide off the side of the house.

  “I’d say this is it,” I said. I pulled the Falcon into the driveway and shut off the car.

  The front door was immediately opened and Debbie stepped out, a toe-headed baby jiggling on her hip. “C’mon in ladies. I’m so glad you could stop by.” Her voice broke and she wiped away a tear.

  Debbie led us through a messy living room—where two young girls were dancing along with a video on the TV—and into an even messier kitchen.

  The kitchen overlooked the lake. Debbie’s house seemed to be nestled in a small channel off the main portion of the lake. It was nice and cozy.

  “Sorry about the mess. With all three kids home on Christmas vacation, it’s nearly impossible to keep the house clean.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Paige said. “I’m sure in a few years I’ll be saying the same thing.”

  My heart pitched. Paige’s constant reminder that her life would soon change was still hard for me to process fully. It scared me to think my best friend was starting a new chapter in her life—and this time it didn’t fully include me.

  Aunt Shirley whistled and wa
lked over to the bay window where the kitchen table sat. “That’s a nice boat.”

  Debbie laughed. “Hazards of a husband who sells boats for a living. Mark loves his Sea Ray.”

  To me it looked like a large, white boat with a lot of room in the front to sit people. I’m sure to people who know boats it was a lot more than that. Mostly it reeked of money.

  “How’re you doing?” Paige asked.

  Debbie blinked back tears. “I just don’t understand this. I mean, I just spoke with Julie the other day. Everything was fine. I don’t understand why someone would want to kill her.”

  I exchanged a silent look with Aunt Shirley. I wasn’t sure how much we should tell Debbie. No sense dragging her into the mess, but maybe she’d have insight to Whitney and Jolene’s relationship and we could narrow down our suspects even more.

  At this point I was willing to scratch Blackwell’s name off the list. I couldn’t give a motive as to why he would want to kill both Jim and Julie.

  “Momma, can we have some goldfish crackers?” A brown haired girl came running into the room wearing a purple tutu. Her hair was pulled up into two pigtails and she was missing a front tooth.

  “This is my oldest, Sarah. Sarah, can you say hi to everyone?”

  The little girl tucked her chin down to her chest and scuffed her ballet slippers on the floor. “Hi,” she mumbled shyly.

  Another little girl with blonde pigtails and sporting a pink tutu came barreling into the kitchen. “Goldfish, goldfish,” she chanted as she effortlessly leapt into the air repeatedly.

  Debbie handed the baby off to Sarah. “Take your brother with you in the other room while I talk.” The little girl made a face but didn’t say anything. Debbie then shoved a gigantic bag of goldfish to the smaller, dancing one. “Don’t drop these all over the floor, Tia. And please don’t let your brother mash them into the carpet.”

  The little girl stopped jumping and stared at her mom. “No promises.”

  Aunt Shirley laughed. “I like her.”

  The little girl skipped over to Aunt Shirley. Something told me she never walked anywhere. “I like your hair,” she said.

 

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