Red Picket Fences

by Daphne McLean

  “Jennifer, just because Malone is an Italian-sounding name doesn’t mean he’s in the Mob or anything.”

  “I never said he was in the Mob,” she clarified. “However, did I mention that he was a loan shark? Loan sharks kill people who don’t pay, don’t they?” Jennifer was now standing with her weight shifted on one side and a prideful smirk on her face. She hoped her acute observations were impressing the young police officer.

  “In the movies, they do. Dead people don’t ever pay. What would be the end game?”

  Jennifer thought for a minute. What would be the end game? “Maybe he’s using them as an example?” she asked. “Maybe his goon went overboard? Who knows. Wouldn’t it be worth it to at least check him out?”

  “Maybe it would,” Jimmy replied. “Chief Fitzgerald would never allow it, though. I’m too green.”

  “Well, maybe it’s time to take a vacation day,” Jennifer said. “Ever been to Staten Island?”

  Chapter 10

  After her talk with Jimmy, Jennifer spent the rest of the afternoon regaling Peter with the story of her talk with the chief, and also about her talk with Jimmy. She left out the part about their potential plan to go to Staten Island to stake out Vinny Malone for now. Jimmy hadn’t exactly agreed to the trip; he’d said he wanted to do some research first. He had a friend from the Academy who had ended up getting a job in Staten Island. Jimmy was going to put a call in to see if his friend knew anything about Vinny. Jennifer wasn’t sure exactly what they were going to do when they got there, but she hoped that just sitting outside Vinny’s house could yield some information.

  “So far, everything I’ve concluded about the case is valid,” Jennifer said triumphantly. “First, Jerry confirmed that the fire was arson, and then Jimmy confirmed that the blood was actually blood. Not too shabby for an armchair detective.” She leaned back against the counter and took a sip from the celebratory beer she had opened for herself. She maintained eye contact with Peter, eagerly awaiting his praise.

  “All right, Sherlock, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” Peter said with a laugh. “I’m not trying to kill your weird murder-solving buzz, but finding blood doesn’t change anything. It could be from anyone, and it might not prove Ethan is innocent.”

  She had been expecting a different reaction, but perhaps Peter was right, and she needed to be more objective. Her posture slumped a bit, and she let out a sigh.

  “I know,” she replied. “It’s just that I feel like something about this case is off in some way. I’m almost positive that Jimmy agrees. However, Chief Fitzgerald wants to put this to bed. If I could just find something to convince him otherwise, he’ll look into it, and we’ll know for sure.”

  She finished off her beer and threw the bottle into the recycling bin.

  Peter was absorbing what she had just told him. He wasn’t the type of guy to speak off the cuff, and really thought about what he said to people. She seemed serious in her pursuit of the truth, and he decided to switch gears from playfully mocking her to having a real discussion about what finding out the truth meant.

  “What if you’re right, and Ethan didn’t do it?” Peter asked, his tone a bit less jovial than before. “That would mean the murderer is still out there. This isn’t one of your shows. This is real life. I don’t want you getting hurt. Maybe you should let this go.”

  He was right. This wasn’t TV, and getting involved could be very dangerous. On the other hand, not getting involved and letting a murderer run free could end in another death, and that didn’t sit right with Jennifer.

  “Pete, you’re absolutely right,” Jennifer said. If Ethan is innocent, then the murderer is still out there. Could you really go on about your life peacefully, knowing that? Besides, at this point, there’s nothing else to do but wait. I told the police about the blood, and they’re getting it tested. What else is there?”

  Jennifer hated keeping things from Peter, but she didn’t want to have a fight tonight. Besides, Jimmy might say no about the trip to Staten Island, and it would be a moot point. There technically wasn’t anything to tell.

  “I guess you’re right,” he said. “I wouldn’t feel right knowing that a murderer is on the loose and a man’s name was tarnished for no reason. As it is, the families are holding two different funerals so Sarah’s family doesn’t have to see Ethan’s family.”

  The funeral. Jennifer had completely forgotten that Sarah’s funeral was tomorrow. Ethan’s family had decided to hold a small private ceremony the following day so their children could attend both. Tensions were too high to have both funerals on the same day.

  There wasn’t much information about where Ethan’s was being held, which Jennifer thought was understandable. The fire and the murders were starting to become a bigger news story than anyone had originally thought. Ethan’s family likely didn’t want to be bombarded by the press.

  “I completely forgot,” Jennifer said, holding her head in her hands. “I haven’t been sleeping well, and there’s just so much going on. My brain feels like mush. I’d better go upstairs and try on everything in my closet to see if anything fits. Yoga pants are definitely not acceptable at a funeral.”

  “Okay, hon,” Peter said. He was happy the conversation had ended the way it did. “I’ll be up to help in a minute. I’m going to change William, and then you can model for us,” he concluded with a laugh.

  Jennifer wasn’t sure how entertaining ill-fitting funeral attire was going to be for either of them, but she appreciated how supportive her husband was, and she wanted a little time with her little guy. She ran upstairs to her dreaded closet and started sifting through the hangers.

  It was going to be another sleepless night. Jennifer’s mind would not stop racing. She bounced from thought to thought and hadn’t gotten any closer to a conclusion about staking out Vinny Malone. She also felt terribly guilty about withholding that tidbit from Peter. She kept reminding herself that none of it mattered unless Jimmy agreed to go. She would never put herself in that kind of danger alone.

  She thought about the funeral, about seeing the kids, the blood, the fire, about the way the chief had treated her, and about Sarah and Ethan … Thoughts jumped around her brain in no particular order until nothing made sense. That was when she was able to finally drift off.

  The pot luck! Jennifer was jolted awake. She’d forgotten to make a dish for the reception. Mrs. Parsons, Jerry’s wife, had organized the food for the reception so Sarah’s family wouldn’t have to worry. Jennifer signed up for these types of things all the time, intending to make something fabulous. Instead, she ended up buying pre-made macaroni and cheese from the local warehouse store, putting it in a casserole, and adding seasoned breadcrumbs to the top. People around the neighborhood called it her ‘famous’ mac and cheese. She intended to make it from scratch this time, but who was she kidding? The pre-made stuff was pretty darn good, and who was she to disappoint?

  She reset her alarm for an hour earlier than she had originally planned to wake so she would have time to make two stops. The only thing in her closet that fit was an 80s prom dress she had bought for a costume party. She needed to run to the store and hopefully find a pencil skirt, blouse and cardigan, and now she needed the mac and cheese.

  Okay, brain, please hold off on any more intrusive thoughts until tomorrow morning. I need sleep, she told herself.

  She was talking to her brain in her brain. It was all so meta that she kept thinking in loops until she was finally knocked out cold. 7 AM was only two hours away, and she needed every last bit of those two hours of sleep to make it through the day.

  Chapter 11

  Somehow, Jennifer had pulled it off. She and William rushed around to several stores to find an outfit for the funeral: a black pencil skirt, a floral peplum blouse that was not only in fashion but hid her lingering mommy tummy, and a simple black cardigan. She also managed to pick up the food
for the reception. The mac and cheese was bubbling in the oven when Suzanne knocked on the door to pick Jennifer up. Peter kindly offered to deliver the dish to the Pembury Acres clubhouse later on for the reception.

  “Hey, love. How are you holding up?” Jennifer asked as she embraced Suzanne.

  “I’m doing alright,” Suzanne replied.

  She seemed too distracted by William to give Jennifer a real answer. He was in his high chair, covered in the mac and cheese Jennifer had set aside for him and was licking the bowl. It was adorable … and messy. Jennifer blew him a kiss to remain stain-free as she and Suzanne walked out the door.

  “You made your famous warehouse mac and cheese for the reception, I see,” Suzanne said, poking fun at Jennifer as she put the key in the ignition.

  Jennifer thought Suzanne seemed a bit more like herself today. She hoped the funeral would help bring Suzanne some closure.

  “It’s just so darn good, Suzanne. I can’t compete. I did, however, add my special seasoned breadcrumb topping,” Jennifer replied.

  “I don’t believe that for a second. When you set your mind to something, you’re unstoppable,” Susanne said.

  Jennifer’s heart warmed. She smiled at Suzanne and said, “And you’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever known.”

  They sat in silence for the rest of the car ride, both preparing themselves to go into the funeral. It was emotionally and physically draining to attend those types of things. The grief, the small talk, finding the right words to say, processing emotions. It was a lot.

  They pulled into the parking lot of the funeral home, and Suzanne had to drive around several times to find a place to park. The whole community had come to pay their respects to Sarah Ashton. After their third pass around, it was becoming apparent that Suzanne would have to park far away from the building. Jennifer wasn’t at all prepared for that, as she was wearing heels for the first time in almost two years, and she had to go to the restroom … badly.

  She fidgeted in her seat uncomfortably. “Hey, Suzanne, I hate to ask you this, but do you think you could just drop me off in the front? I have to run to the ladies’ room.”

  “Oh, honey, my children might be off to college soon, but my mom-bladder has never quite recovered. Say no more.”

  Suzanne pulled up to the building, and Jennifer dashed out of the car. “I’ll get us seats!” she yelled without looking back.

  As Jennifer rushed up the steps and yanked open the door, she barely had time to stop herself before colliding with a well-dressed man walking out the door as fast as she was walking in. Luckily, they both had quick reflexes, and the impact was minimal.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Jennifer exclaimed. I’m rushing to the, uh, funeral, and I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  The man seemed frustrated. He ignored Jennifer and started looking around for something on the ground.

  “Are you okay?” Jennifer asked again, starting to become annoyed. He was just as much to blame, and here she was, about to pee herself, apologizing to him.

  “Yes, sorry,” he replied. “My cufflink popped off when we bumped into each other. I was in a rush myself. Apologies.” He didn’t even look up, which ruffled Jennifer’s feathers.

  She studied him as he looked around for the cufflink. He must have been a friend or co-worker, and not a resident of Pembury Acres, as she didn’t recognize him. He was wearing an expensive-looking navy suit, a striped shirt, a paisley pocket square, and shiny mahogany-colored shoes. He had thick dark hair, and while some might consider him handsome, Jennifer thought he looked too generic. The fake Rolex he was wearing gave him away. Within seconds of meeting this guy, Jennifer had concluded that he was a pretentious jerk. She wanted to stay and give him a piece of her mind, but she had other priorities that needed tending to.

  She opened the door to the funeral home, this time with more care, and said, “I’d help you look for it, but I have somewhere to be. Again, I’m sorry.”

  She gave him one last apologetic look that he ignored, then she bee-lined it to the ladies’.

  After having narrowly averted a major crisis, Jennifer made her way into the room where Sarah’s funeral was being held. The entire neighborhood was there. She scanned the room for Suzanne and couldn’t find her. Luckily, she found two seats on the end of the row and settled into one of them.

  Suzanne came dashing in a minute or so later, breathless, as if she had been running. “Did it start yet?” she whispered.

  Jennifer looked at her watch. “Not for another five minutes,” she replied. “You made it. Did you have to park really far away?”

  “No, actually, a spot opened up. A handsome man was just leaving,” Suzanne said.

  “Oh, that guy,” Jennifer said, rolling her eyes. “We crashed into each other at the door, and I apologized. He barely gave me the time of day!”

  “Well, he was upset,” Suzanne said. “We struck up a conversation while we were searching for his cufflink. He walked with me back to my car, and I drove him back to his car so I could have his spot that was way closer to the funeral home. His name is John Miller, and apparently, he was Ethan’s co-worker. He wanted to pay his respects to Sarah, and her father kicked him out.”

  “Oh, now I feel bad,” Jennifer said. “I’m glad he found his cufflink, at least.”

  “Sarah’s dad is such a hard-ass! Some things never change. I mean, he’s grieving the loss of his daughter, so I can see his side, but I sort of felt bad for the poor guy,” Suzanne said.

  Just then, there a hush fell over the crowd as music started to play and Jerry Parsons stepped up to the podium to speak. The room was filled with flowers and tears. Jennifer’s heart suddenly became heavy, and she grabbed Suzanne’s hand. She looked over and saw the sweet faces of Sarah’s children, sitting in the front row with their grandparents. The sight of them all dressed up and barely able to comprehend what was happening was too much to bear.

  A stream of tears started flowing down Jennifer’s face and continued with each speech, each poem and each prayer. They didn’t stop until Jimmy and the rest of the pallbearers exited the room with the pearl-white coffin topped with pink roses.

  As everyone made their way to their cars to head to the reception, Suzanne was stopped by some relatives to talk. “I’ll meet you at the car,” she said.

  Jennifer started towards the parking lot and locked eyes with Jimmy. He walked up to her, his eyes swollen with tears, and said, “I wasn’t sure until right now if I wanted to go to Staten Island. I just loaded a coffin into a hearse with a young mother inside, in front of her inconsolable children. If there’s a chance to clear their dad’s name, I want to take it.”

  “I’m in,” Jennifer said without hesitation. She surprised herself with her response.

  “Let’s talk tomorrow,” Jimmy said, and he walked off toward the crowd.

  Jennifer sighed and shook her head at her own audaciousness. She had a lot to explain to Peter, but not today.

  Chapter 12

  Four hours had passed since they had parked a decoy van outside of Vinny Malone’s brick row house. Stakeouts, as it turned out, were not as glamorous as Jennifer had thought they were.

  The house itself seemed kind of plain to be the house of a mobster. A statue of Mary towered over the now-bare azalea bushes in the garden. A yellow-and-white canopy hung over the porch and gave the home a cheery appearance. The only movement they had seen in the time they were there was an orange tabby cat that kept jumping up into the window.

  Jennifer had rented a white van for the mission. She didn’t want to use her or Jimmy’s car for fear of being tracked down. Jimmy had had his friend at the sign shop in town make a peel-and-stick logo for a fake business that they stuck on the side of the van so as not to raise suspicion. For their first stakeout, they were pretty prepared.

  Jimmy sat crunching on potato
chips, staring out the window. The sound of each little crunch grated on Jennifer’s nerves, but she stifled her fury. It wasn’t until Peter started slurping his soft drink that she finally lost it.

  “Must you two be so loud with your crunching and slurping sounds?”

  Peter and Jimmy looked at each other and shrugged.

  “Whoa, Jen, calm down,” Peter said. “This is the stakeout life. Can’t take the heat? Starting to lose it?”

  Peter was poking fun. He had insisted on tagging along when Jennifer had brought the whole stakeout idea up to him the night of the funeral. His reaction had surprised her, because she’d thought Peter would flat-out refuse.

  Suzanne was at home watching William. She had no idea what they were up to. Jennifer wanted to wait until they had more information before she brought any of this up with her friend.

  “Pete, when I let you come with us—” Jennifer started.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Peter interjected. “I demanded to come. No wife of mine is going to be trapped in a car with a hunky young rookie.”

  Jimmy smiled. “You think I’m hunky?”

  “Don’t let it go to your head, kid,” Peter joked. “It’s 20 percent you and 80 percent uniform.”

  He and Jennifer smiled and winked at one another.

  “Okay. Enough joking around, guys,” Jennifer said. “Let’s go over again what we have on Vinny Malone. What did your friend say, Jimmy?”

  “Vincent Antonio Malone, forty-five years old, has been arrested but never formally charged for various petty crimes. My friend spoke to a local informant who said that our Vinny, here, operated as a small-time loan shark for 15 years. He seems to have been careful and remained under the radar until recently. Word on the street is that he’s claiming responsibility for Sarah’s and Ethan’s deaths. Ethan was a client of his who wasn’t paying.”