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Liquid Lies

Page 20

by Lois Lavrisa

If my theory was right, he wrapped her body, left, and then hid her body somewhere. But where?

  It had to be the construction site with dumpsters and dug out holes. Shoot. It was a veritable hiding ground for bodies. I’ll have to tell the police this. But out of respect for the mayor, I had to let him know first. I just had to. Then we could go to the police together.

  When I questioned McNally, he denied he was a killer. He lied. I saw him at the service, no tears, no grief. Instead he constantly looked at his phone.

  McNally knew Jacob worked on the job site, and had a locker there. So McNally planted Jacob’s necklace where the police would find it and become suspicious of Jacob. But why Jacob? I didn’t know. McNally must have needed to pin the murder on someone.

  But what McNally didn’t know is that I knew for a fact that Jacob was not the killer. He had an alibi for the time Francesca was killed. Jacob was innocent because he was the blackmailer who picked up a drop at the time of her death.

  My whole body tingled. I had to tell the mayor that his daughter was killed by his buddy McNally.

  “Excuse me? Hello?” I screamed from my cell. “Hello? Anyone hear me?

  The door opened. “Yes Ms. Coe, Are you ready to leave?” Detective Gentry said.

  “No, not yet. But I do want to use your land line to make a call now, please,” I said, so excited that I could just burst.

  He opened the door. Then he led me to small room with a table and a phone. “I’ll be right outside the door.”

  I dialed the mayor’s number and got an answering machine. “Hi Mr. Pike, mayor. It’s CiCi. I know who the killer is and–” the answering machine clicked off. It must be full. Damn. I wanted to leave him more information, about McNally. I wasn’t even able to tell him I was at the station. I hoped that the caller ID would show the station number.

  Justice was within reach. Finally.

  I looked up and said, “Francesca and Mark— I figured it out. He won’t get away with it.”

  Now I felt free even behind bars.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Ms. Coe, I’ve got some news for you.” Detective Gentry said. Detective Wurkowski stood by his side. “Will you please follow us?”

  My legs were stiff as I tottered behind Wurkowski. They guided me to a conference room. I smelled coffee.

  Jacob stood when I entered. My hair hadn’t been combed in I don’t know how long. Why did he have to see me like this and why was he here?

  “Hi Jacob,” I said timidly. “How are you doing?” Yeah, like he wants to ever have anything to do with his dad’s killer. I was delusional.

  Jacob nodded his head. His eyes were half closed, as though he hadn’t slept well. His hair was wet. He wore a jean jacket over a black t-shirt. For a second, I thought of us in his bed, and I felt so wonderful. My heart ached knowing that I would never hold him again, never feel his kisses. I’d blown that chance. I had to face up to who I was. He deserved better.

  “Why doesn’t everyone take a seat,” Detective Wurkowski suggested.

  This was the same room, with the two-way mirror, I had been in when they first questioned me. A digital recorder sat on the table along with stacks of paper and some pens. A thermos stood in the center of the table along with cups.

  “Help yourself,” Detective Gentry said as he pointed to the center of the table.

  “Ms. Coe, we’ve done a lot of research on your case. And we have some things we need to share with you. We thought it best that the victim’s son be here as well,” Detective Wurkowski said.

  “Fine by me,” I said. “I’m sorry. You weren’t looking for my approval, were you?”

  The detectives chuckled. Jacob did not.

  “Mr. Frank Stanley Elmore was the trucker you say you killed. The Englewood police faxed information to us. We’ve made a lot of calls and read through a great deal of material. We wanted you both here, Ms. Coe, Mr. Elmore. I’m going to give it to you straight,” Detective Wurkowski said as he leaned his arms on the table. “Mr. Elmore, were you aware that there were several reports of women raped by a trucker at truck stops around the country?”

  “No sir.” Jacob shifted in his chair.

  “How well did you know your father?” Detective Wurkowski said.

  “Not too well. My folks split when I was five. My mom had full custody. I only saw my dad maybe once a year. For a few days at most,” Jacob said. “Why?”

  “After your father died, they ran his DNA,” Detective Wurkowski said. “Did he engage in any unusual activity when you were together?”

  “What do you mean by unusual? It was just us guys hanging out. We did fun things when we were together. You know like, baseball games, carnivals and eating junk food.” Jacob added, “He was a great dad to me.”

  “Did you ever go on the job with him, you know, in his rig?” Detective Gentry asked.

  “Only once, for my eighteenth birthday.” Jacob’s voice lowered. He looked at the floor. “The night he was killed.”

  “I’m sorry. Really Jacob, we didn’t mean to.” I appealed. “I’m so sorry.”

  Jacob would not look at me.

  “That was the only night you were with him on his job?” Detective Wurkowski asked.

  “Yes sir.” Jacob said.

  “You may not want to hear what we have to tell you, Mr. Elmore. We understand that he may have been a good man to you, but he was also a predator. He stalked and preyed on young women at truck stops,” Detective Wurkowski said. “His DNA matched the rape victims.”

  Jacob’s dad was a rapist? It was as if someone had thrown a sandbag at my gut.

  “That’s not true. He wasn’t like that. You’re wrong!” Jacob stood and flung his chair across the floor. The screech of metal echoed in the room. “All of you are trying to clear the killer. She’s got you under her spell. Hell, I fell for her too.” Jacob shook his finger at me.

  I swallowed back a sob.

  “We can only imagine how hard this is for you to hear, Mr. Elmore,” Detective Gentry said. “You only knew your dad one way. And what we are telling you is the opposite of how you remember him. We’re truly sorry. But the facts are in here.” He slid a stack of papers towards Jacob.

  “Please sit down and look them over. We made copies in case you want to take them with you,” Detective Wurkowski said.

  Jacob looked at all of us, eyes slit, eyebrows furrowed. He lifted the chair back in place. He snatched the stack of papers from the table. “If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving.”

  “There’s one more thing. If you would give us just a few more moments of your time. How did you figure out that Francesca was there the night your father died? It’ll help clear up some loose ends. We’d sure appreciate it.” Detective Wurkowski positioned himself next to Jacob. He put his hand on his shoulder.

  Just the gesture of a hand on a shoulder, apparently meant to comfort Jacob, was the most emotion I had seen Wurkowski demonstrate. I wanted to comfort Jacob too. I had to force myself to stay in the chair so I wouldn’t run over and hug him.

  Jacob plopped into his chair. He sighed before beginning. “Remember, I already told you that that night was the first time I ever went on the job with my dad. He told me it was time to make me a man. I had no idea what he really meant. I thought possibly we’d smoke a cigar or have a shot of whiskey. He was my old man, so I went. My mom was against it, but you know how kids are. I begged. Plus I was eighteen, an adult, right?”

  “Yes. That’s right,” Detective Gentry agreed.

  “Anyway, we rode a couple of days from California to Wisconsin. On the third night, we had stopped at an all night diner in Englewood, to park the rig and spend the night. First we grabbed dinner. It was odd. My dad hadn’t finished his burger but something out the window caught his eye,” Jacob said.

  Jacob’s dad must have saw me changing Francesca’s tire in the parking lot.

  “My dad said, ‘I’m done. Here’s money for the bill. I’m going to the head. I’ll meet you at th
e rig. I may have a surprise for you, son.’ I stayed in the diner another ten minutes or so, to finish eating. As I left, I looked out in the parking lot. I saw two girls getting in a car. One was tall with hair to her waist. I didn’t remember the other one.” Jacob paused and took a sip of coffee.

  I saw Jacob that night. He’d seen us too.

  “When I got to the truck, I found my dad slumped over the steering wheel. I called the police. Before they got there, I found a scrap of silver shiny fabric caught on the door. I kept it. I don’t know why, but I did. I didn’t think about whether it had anything to do with what had happened to my dad. So I never said anything. The police came and filled out reports. Dusted for prints. Interviewed the employees at the diner, and anyone who was around. They questioned me too. I told them about a birthday button I found, but not about the fabric. Anyway, they didn’t find any witnesses. I didn’t think of telling them I saw two girls. I mean really, who would have thought that two girls would–” Jacob suspended his sentence. He darted his eye at me.

  The detectives stared at me.

  If I could, I’d have looked at me too.

  Jacob relived the night I hated myself for. My heart ached for what I did to him. Since it happened, I had wished a million times over that it had never occurred. It did. And Jacob had to live through it too.

  Detective Gentry poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Jacob. “Here’s a fresh cup. How did you get to Round Lake?”

  “I’m trained to work construction. I’ve been all over the county working on different sites. I’ve built up solid credentials and a good reputation. There was an online posting for a possible two to three year construction job in Round Lake,” Jacob said.

  “The hospital?” Detective Wurkowski asked.

  “Yes. We were hired for the hospital project through Pike’s firm. I was the first one here. Three of my construction buddies on my crew were scheduled to arrive next week,” Jacob said.

  “You said were. The rest of your crew are not coming anymore?” Detective Wurkowski asked.

  “We were let go. Francesca told me Friday morning,” Jacob said. “I wasn’t happy. She couldn’t give me any reason for firing us.”

  “So, that’s why you fought with her,” I said. “Sorry. I’m speaking out of turn.”

  Detective Wurkowski nodded at me. He crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “Continue, Mr. Elmore.”

  “When I got to Round Lake, I noticed a lot of high school kids wore these silver shiny type jackets. They looked like they were made from the same fabric as the piece I found the night my dad was killed. I thought I had put my dad’s death behind me. But things began to fall into place. Those girls I saw in the parking lot, and the piece of fabric, and the ‘18 going on 21’ birthday button, all began to come together.” Jacob leaned back and stretched his legs.

  “I remembered the tall girl with long hair. When I found out that Francesca and I had the same birthday, I decided to act on a hunch. It seemed like a long shot, but I had to find out. But you know, I had this weird feeling that I was on target.” Jacob folded his arms.

  “How did you verify that it was her?” Detective Gentry struck his pen on the table.

  “I figured I’d attempt to blackmail her. I called her anonymously and I told her I knew she killed a trucker four years ago, and that I had proof. I told her I needed twenty G’s. I thought that if it was her, with her wealth, she could get her hands on that kind of cash. I told her where to put the money. I tried to make it seem urgent. Hell, I had no idea what I was doing.” Jacob shrugged his shoulders as he sat back in his chair.

  My legs trembled. Poor Francesca. She must have been under enormous stress. She was pregnant. She was being blackmailed. Bob McNally killed her. I clenched my jaw and balled my hands into fists. After this, I had to get McNally behind bars. I tried to make eye contact with Jacob. He avoided my gaze and only looked at the detectives.

  He continued, “I figured if I was off track and it wasn’t her, she would blow off the call as a crank. But if it had been her, I wanted closure. I wanted to make sense of what happened to my dad. I viewed the money as a sort of severance pay for my friends.” Jacob paused for a moment. He cleared his throat. “But the money was also proof that she was involved, and it was her that I’d seen that night.” His eyes darted at me for a split second.

  I didn’t blame him. I hated me too.

  “I only recently discovered that CiCi was her accomplice. Now, if that is all, I want to turn this in.” Jacob reached in his jean jacket, pulled out a packet and plunked it on the table. “It’s all there. Twenty G’s.”

  “You know what you did was extortion,” Wurkowski said, as he rubbed his chin. “You could be charged for that you know.”

  “Yes sir, I know,” Jacob said as he looked at the ground.

  “But I think that’ll be enough for now. Thank you for your time, Mr. Elmore. We’ll contact you if we need anything on this case. Here’s my card. Call anytime,” Detective Wurkowski said. He got to his feet and shook Jacob’s hand.

  Jacob picked up the papers, and left the room.

  “I’d never heard the other side. We really didn’t mean to kill him,” I said to the two detectives. I sank into my chair.

  The detectives scribbled some notes. Wurkowski’s cell rang. He stepped out and took the call. He returned less than a minute later.

  “So what’s next? Do I get sent up the river to the women’s penitentiary for hard time?” I stated more than asked.

  “No,” Detective Wurkowski said. He pitched the coffee cups into the trash can and grabbed the thermos.

  “Then what?” I asked.

  “We have reason to believe your case, if ever brought to trial, would be ruled as self-defense,” Detective Wurkowski said.

  “Francesca was right, she was right,” I said to myself.

  But now everything was so wrong.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  I gathered my wallet with Mark’s fake moustache in it, my cell phone and a tube of lip gloss. My cell still had a little battery life left. I scrolled through my incoming call log. Several were from the mayor, but he hadn’t left a message. One was from McNally, who said to call him back. The other calls were from Estelle and Hazel. I put the items in my jean pockets.

  First I called Estelle and told her I would be home in a few minutes. I called the mayor-his line still would not take any messages.

  My cell’s time read six fifty eight a.m. Tuesday. I shut it down to conserve the battery until I could plug it in at home. It was quiet. There were a few runners out and a handful of people walking dogs.

  Some boat engines roared in the distance. The still air smelled of crisp flowers and rich earth. The sun peeked over the trees. In less than twenty minutes, I reached Estelle’s house.

  “Were you at Jacob’s?” Estelle said as she hugged and kissed me.

  Hazel ran over to me with arms outstretched in a hug. “We’ve been working so much on SOS. I’ve been sleeping in your room. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. You’re part of the family. You belong here as much as I do.” I kissed Hazel’s plump cheek.

  “You never answered me. How’s Jacob?” Estelle said as she followed Hazel and me to the kitchen.

  “Listen. I have to tell you both some things. First know that I love you two so much it hurts.” I looked at both of them.

  “You sound so serious. What’s going on?” Estelle said, her voice trembled. “You’re worrying me.”

  “I never want to hurt you, or cause you trouble. Let’s all sit down,” I said.

  “Sit down talks are never good,” Hazel said. “But I’m tough. I can handle it. Hey, I’m in a fight with a big hospital. You gotta be tough to do that.”

  Estelle and Hazel sat to my right at the kitchen table. Estelle pushed a plate of cookies in front of me.

  “No thanks. I’ll have some later. It’s really important that I tell you what’s been going on in my life. You both have a r
ight to know,” I said. For the next hour I told them everything. They both listened. Estelle wrung her hands and nodded. Hazel gazed at me with wide eyes as if I was telling her the best story she had ever heard.

  “You and Francesca may have been foolish to get in that stranger’s truck.” Hazel adjusted her bra strap under her lime green top. “Heck I was a fireball when I was eighteen and did some fool things too. My first marriage was one of them. But you’re innocent and it’s over now.”

  “What about McNally?” Estelle said, her mouth twisting. Her fingers clenched around the cup. “He killed Francesca.”

  “Listen, I don’t want you to worry. I’ve got the mayor on my side. No one is going to kill anyone, anymore. Got that?” I reached out and held Estelle’s hand.

  “Good. That means we can forget that silly old death threat,” Hazel smiled.

  In unison, Estelle and I said, “Death threat?” My stomach plummeted.

  “I didn’t want to worry you Estelle. You know I’m a tough old broad,” Hazel said.

  “When did you get a threat?” I asked.

  “Remember Estelle, I told you that I had to go back to the pavilion to finish some work. Well what do you know, right there on the ticket booth window in some sort of chalky spray paint were the words ‘Stop SOS or you die.’” Hazel’s voice rose. She stood and fidgeted with her hair.

  “This is not good. Oh no, this is not good,” Estelle repeated, biting her bottom lip. Skipper trotted into the room, wagging his tail, begging for food. Estelle patted his head.

  “What did you do?” I asked. “You called the police, right? And they took pictures, got fingerprints or something.”

  “Oh no. I didn’t call anyone. I washed that silly nonsense off,” Hazel said.

  “You washed it off?” I said. I rubbed my temples.

  “No. Remember my husband, Stanley the lawyer. He got death threats all the time. The only thing killed him was donuts,” Hazel said. “So I didn’t pay any mind to it.”

  “Okay. Let’s regroup. I have to let the police know about it okay? We can’t take any chances. I do hope you’re right and it’s nothing,” I said. “You two stick to each other like a bee on honey, and let me know wherever you go.”

 

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