Sarah Winston Garage Sale 01 - Tagged for Death

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Sarah Winston Garage Sale 01 - Tagged for Death Page 18

by Sherry Harris


  I nodded, too afraid to speak. The Goth girl glanced over her shoulder at me. This had to be better than climbing over the fence topped with razor wire or trying to cut through it. I was sure they’d increased perimeter patrols since Jessica’s murder. They probably added more security cameras. I looked back down at my phone. The girl flounced back around after she realized I wasn’t going to say anything else.

  “I skipped algebra today. I saw Phil Crawford at the Dunkin’ Donuts,” the Goth girl said.

  “He’s so hot. Why’d he have to get kicked off base?” the cheerleader asked.

  “Why do all the hot ones have to be idiots and sell drugs,” Goth girl said.

  I perked up.

  “I thought he moved back to LA,” the cheerleader said.

  “He’s living with an aunt in Bedford. He asked for my number.”

  “Kyle is going to come around any day now,” the cheerleader said.

  “Kyle Brown? Oh, please.”

  Kyle Brown was Ted and Deena’s son. I edged forward on my seat, kept my head down, fidgeting with my phone.

  “You’re dreaming if you think he’s going to break up with Chelsea,” the Goth girl said.

  “She’s impossible, now that she’s singing at the Celtics game,” the cheerleader said. “It’s not fair. I’m the one that cheered for him all through football and basketball season.”

  Kyle was dating Scott Pellner’s daughter.

  “You don’t stand a chance.”

  The cheerleader gestured toward her body. “You don’t think he’s going to want some of this? Chelsea lives in town. I’m convenient.”

  The Goth girl laughed. “He was sweating bullets when they arrested Phil and those other kids.”

  “That’s a bunch of bull. Kyle was just trying to act cool.”

  The bus approached the gate. This was the tricky part. The bus driver would have to stop at the gate to show his ID. Buses were checked randomly to make sure kids had IDs with them. If they found me, I’d never be allowed back on base, no matter how many strings Laura’s husband tried to pull.

  “Damn,” the Goth girl said. “I forgot my ID.”

  “Just hide under the seat. I’ll distract the security guard.” The cheerleader tossed her hair.

  I eyed the space under the bus seat. I wasn’t limber enough to stuff my body under there. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. The gate guard motioned the bus through. I let out a sigh of relief. When the bus made its first stop by the youth center, I hopped off.

  After walking to the library from there, I grabbed a book and took it to a back corner. I hoped no one I knew came by. Most of my friends were either fixing dinner or getting ready to go out. It was steak night at the club. There used to be a separate officer and enlisted club. At some point, they’d combined into one club. A band was playing tonight. They would raffle prizes. That should keep everyone occupied until the library closed.

  The girls on the bus had talked about Kyle Brown and the drug bust. I grabbed a base paper from a pile stacked near the door. The drug bust wasn’t mentioned. It was old news by now. Just before eight, I left the library.

  I headed up the hill to the new thrift shop. It should be empty this time of night. Even though it was dark, I scooted around the backs of buildings to stay off the main road. I let myself into the thrift shop with the key Laura had given me. I left the lights off, grateful they’d moved the thrift shop. I couldn’t sit in the old one, knowing Jessica and Tiffany had been killed right outside. I curled up in the corner of a couch and, amazingly, fell asleep.

  At eleven o’clock, I woke and left the thrift shop. The base had a curfew for anyone under eighteen unaccompanied by an adult. Eleven at night to six in the morning on weekdays, and midnight to six on weekends. If I ran into a patrol, looking like I was sneaking around, they’d stop me and ask for my ID. They wouldn’t fall for my “I forgot my ID” routine.

  With that in mind, I cut through a baseball field by the swimming pool on my way to the housing area. I turned right on Edwards and then took a left on Luke. I tried not to give into my instinct to scurry. Instead I walked confidently, like I belonged here. Not long ago I did. I jogged a little in case anyone drove by. The steep hill quickly slowed me back to a walk.

  One side of the street was lined with old town houses; the other with little brick Cape Cods. The higher the rank, the bigger the house was the usual rule of thumb. Most lights were out. Some of the houses were empty, since a section of new housing had just opened. People were transitioning from old to new.

  A dog barked off in the distance as I got to the house CJ and I had lived in. Someone had already moved in. That’s the military for you: all hellos and good-byes, packing and unpacking. I broke into a jog again. I passed Eglin Circle, where Laura had lived until the new housing opened up—she’d kill me if she knew what I was up to—and finally slowed to a walk when I could barely draw in a breath. Deena lived in the last house on the left side of Luke. It backed to the woods. A tot lot sat across the street to its side.

  I walked by their house. No lights were on. An owl hooted as I headed to the tree line. I circled back to their detached garage. About six months ago, Deena had complained about the amount of stuff Ted kept in the garage. They couldn’t park a car in it. Deena wanted to get rid of most of it. Laura had told her to bring it to the thrift shop, just to get her to shut up.

  The brick garage sat about ten feet back, to the side of the house. I pressed my ear to the cracked and peeling side door. I didn’t hear anything expect the echo of my heartbeat pounding. Paint chips stuck to my cheek as I pulled back. I slowly turned the knob of the wooden door on the side of the Browns’ garage, relieved it was unlocked.

  People were notoriously bad about locking up on base. Even though CJ regularly reminded them through a safety column in the Fitch Times that there was crime on Fitch. Until the two murders, crime was mostly bike thefts and misuse of official government computers. CJ had to assign one of his staff to deal solely with tracking civilian use of porn sites while at work on base.

  I eased the door open an inch, relieved it didn’t creak or stick. I peered in as I pushed it open. It was packed to the gills. The only open floor space was an area by a workbench littered with tools. The rest looked worse than the sorting room at the thrift shop.

  I slipped in and turned on the flashlight feature on my phone. I held it down, even though there was little chance any light would show outside. I started my search with Ted’s golf clubs. Nothing. My light flicked out. In the dark, I fumbled with my phone. I managed to get the light back on. It already drained my battery to one bar.

  I couldn’t search everything without taking hours. With limited light, I prioritized. I worked the perimeter, starting to my right. I pawed through boxes of old electronics. They’d saved stacks of old magazines and college textbooks. I moved to the workbench. I opened a toolbox. I lifted out a set of wrenches and found an old tin box. It was stuffed full of purple notes. I spread them out on the bench.

  My hands trembled. All of them were signed by Tiffany. I stuffed them back in the tin box and snapped a couple of pictures. Finding these might help CJ. This time I wasn’t leaving the notes behind. I stuffed them in the pocket of my hoodie.

  Halfway out of the garage, the sound of a door opening came from the house. No lights came on, at least on the back or side of the house, which was the extent of what I could see. The side door opened inward. I shut the garage door as much as I could without making any noise and ducked behind two garbage cans. I glanced down at my phone. It was only eleven-thirty. I would have sworn I’d been in the garage for hours. I peered between the two garbage cans as the storm door slowly swung out.

  CHAPTER 25

  Deena stepped out, dressed in dark jogging clothes. She didn’t glance back. She surely would have noticed the partially opened garage door and me crouching by the garbage. I tried not to play out, in my head, the ending to that scenario. She crept down the driveway, turned right o
n Luke, and jogged out of sight. I eased the garage door the rest of the way shut and went after Deena.

  I crept down her driveway, knowing at the bottom I’d be exposed. If Deena was around, she’d see me. She’d already jogged almost to Eglin Circle by the time I got to the end of the driveway. I sighed and started after her, sticking to the grass to deaden the sound of my footfalls.

  She ran all the way down Luke. My breath started coming in harsh pants. Deena passed a little community center and entered the joint elementary- and middle-school parking lot. She disappeared around the side of the school. When I peeked around the corner, I saw her turn behind the school. A little creek, a branch off the Shawsheen River, and some woods were the only things back there.

  I stuck close to the side of the building. As I neared the back, I heard voices. Deena argued with someone. I peeked around the corner of the school. I saw two people and they’d gone from arguing to kissing. That wasn’t Ted. The guy wasn’t as tall. Besides, who snuck out of her house to make out with her own husband? So much for Deena’s marital counseling.

  I decided to wait them out. The wind picked up and a few snowflakes fell. When I heard voices, I ducked behind one of the large oak trees by the sidewalk. They came around the corner. Deena started back toward housing. The guy headed over toward the gym. After they were both out of sight, I cut over to Travis Street. I didn’t like being on the main road, but I hoped to spot the guy again. He might be heading up toward the dorms, and I could find out who he was.

  A car engine started somewhere behind the shoppette. I picked up my pace. A car pulled onto Travis. It turned up the hill toward the Offutt gate. I didn’t have to try to follow. I recognized the car. It was Tyler’s.

  Getting off base is normally a lot easier than getting on. Occasionally they’d do random ID checks as people left. Sometimes worried parents called the security desk if their child took off when he or she wasn’t supposed to. Then the gate guards checked every vehicle and person as they left. If an alarm sounded in one of the high-security buildings, the gates would shut. Everyone would be let out, one by one, after the cars had been searched.

  I jogged off, waving a quick hand at the guard shack. With the wind and snow, the guard wasn’t very curious about who I was or where I was going. His job was way more about keeping people off than keeping people on.

  Tyler and Deena made an odd couple. I didn’t care what they did or how they met. The only reason I’d gone on base was to find a connection between Deena, Ted, Tiffany, and Jessica. The purple notes proved Ted and Tiffany knew each other. I patted the notes in my pocket and declared the night a success.

  The wind picked up as I started the four-mile walk back to Bedford High School. It was too late to call Carol for a ride. She always claimed that when her kids could drive, she’d pick them up wherever they were—no questions asked. That philosophy wouldn’t extend to me, especially if I wanted her to pick me up this close to base. I didn’t want to hear what she’d have to say about this latest adventure. James would grill me if I called him. Even calling a taxi would leave a trail if things somehow went south.

  No sidewalks were on this section of Hartwell. Dark office buildings and trees lined the street. I stayed as close to the edge of the shoulder as possible, although no cars had gone by. Even the cleaning crews had left by this time of night. Snowflakes coated the front of my hoodie. I bent my head against the increasing wind. I couldn’t make it all the way back to Bedford on my own. As I decided a taxi was my only option, I saw lights glowing on the right-hand side of the road.

  I’d forgotten about the restaurant up ahead. It changed hands often and was closed as much as it was open. I’d heard it had once been an upscale Italian restaurant. When we moved here, it did a brief stint as a sports bar. I’d call a cab from there. Calling a cab from a restaurant wasn’t nearly as suspicious as calling a cab from the side of the street in the middle of office complexes.

  The sign said, GILLGANINS AUTHENTIC IRISH PUB. The parking lot was full for midnight. Heat rolled over me as I opened the door.

  “Sarah.” Stella sat at the bar, waving me over. She looked at my bedraggled state and turned to the bartender. “We’re going to need an Irish coffee.”

  “Thanks, Stella. I’ll be right back.” I went to the bathroom and cleaned up as best I could. I smiled at my bedraggled self in the mirror. I’d gotten on and off base without getting caught. Evidence pointing to Ted sat in my pocket. It might even get CJ released. Now that I was warm and safe, I was ready to celebrate. Stella was the perfect person with whom to celebrate.

  The Irish coffee waited for me when I slid onto the stool next to Stella. I clasped my hands around the warm mug before taking a drink.

  “Who’s the girl I hear singing ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’? She has a beautiful voice.”

  “Is it driving you nuts? I’m sorry.”

  “Not at all. I enjoy listening to her.”

  “It’s Chelsea Pellner, Scott’s daughter. She’s going to sing it at the Celtics game next week.”

  “She must be the one dating my friend Deena’s son. His name is Kyle.” Calling Deena a friend at this point went way beyond white lie.

  “Chelsea talks about him all the time. I’ve been giving Chelsea voice lessons since she was in third grade. She thinks of me as an aunt and tells me her woes. She likes to picture them as star-crossed lovers.”

  “Their families don’t want them to date?”

  “No. He lives on base, and she lives in town. Neither of them drives. Seeing each other is complicated.”

  “Deena’s worried Kyle’s involved with drugs. Do you think Chelsea is?”

  “No way. She’s a serious student. Wants to go to Juilliard. She wouldn’t do anything that would damage her voice or her chances. Scott would kill them if he thought either one was doing drugs.”

  “They always say cops’ kids and ministers’ kids flip out during their teen years.”

  “Not Chelsea. She’d drop Kyle in a heartbeat if she thought he was. The girl is focused. Between voice lessons, choir, and family duties, she doesn’t have time to get in trouble. Her mom’s a bit of a flake. Chelsea has a lot of responsibility at home.”

  “Her mom’s a flake?”

  “I shouldn’t say that. She’s from the South and runs on a different timetable than Yankees do. It causes some talk around town.”

  “What doesn’t?” I asked.

  “Amen to that, sister,” Stella said, and we clinked our glasses.

  Stella wowed the audience with her karaoke skills. After a couple of Irish coffees, I jumped up on the little stage with her. I rode on Stella’s coattails and enjoyed the applause. We stayed until the place closed. She dropped me at my car without questioning why I’d shown up at the bar looking bedraggled, or why my car was at the high school.

  “Thanks, Stella,” I said as I got out.

  “If you ever need to talk.”

  “Thanks.”

  On Friday morning, I chugged water to relieve my dry mouth. During the night, I’d tried to figure out who should get the notes I’d found in the Browns’ garage. Agent Bristow might throw me in jail if he knew I was on base. James was another possibility. He wouldn’t be happy, but I didn’t think he’d be so angry that I’d end up locked up and having to call Angelo to get the number of his cousin, the Mob lawyer.

  CJ was my last resort. I hated reminding him of the disastrous night when I’d brought up the first round of notes. Depending on how the day went, I might have to show them to him.

  I mulled over Tyler and Deena’s relationship. According to Stella, Tyler took classes at Middlesex Community College. Deena had to be five years older than I was. Between the gym and the late-night runs, she kept in great shape. I wondered how she explained the runs to Ted. If he slept as soundly as CJ, he might not notice she was gone. Tyler might be the elusive drug connection, and the drug connection went from him to Deena.

  After my shower and makeup routine, I decided to head
to West Concord Seafoods for a lobster roll. I could try to pry some information out of Tyler, get some food, and put off worrying about the notes until later. Maybe with a full stomach, the best course of action would come to me.

  The sun warmed my back as I walked into the eatery. Tyler stood behind the counter. His eyes drooped, but he smiled when I ordered.

  Tyler brought out my lobster roll and fries. “Why don’t you sit with me, Tyler? I hate eating alone.” I’d come before the noon rush on purpose.

  Tyler glanced around the empty store before nodding and sitting down.

  “Want some of my fries?” I asked him. I wasn’t about to share my lobster roll.

  “Naw, I’m good.” He yawned and stretched.

  I smiled to myself, knowing why he was tired. “Rough night?”

  Tyler shrugged. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist. The few times we had talked, I’d pulled answers out of him.

  “Have you lived in Ellington long?” I asked.

  “Naw. You?”

  “I used to live on base. Have you ever lived on base?”

  He shook his head no.

  “Ever think about working on base? You can find some good jobs.”

  “Naw. I checked into the security guard jobs. I’ve done it before back home. It didn’t work out.”

  If I could have yelled an “aha,” I would have. “It’s a good way to meet girls.”

  He ducked his head and started to blush.

  “Why don’t you live on base anymore?” he asked.

  Yeesh, I was supposed to be the one asking the questions. He might open up if I did. “Divorced. It’s brutal. My husband had an affair. It still stings.” If I couldn’t get any information from him, I might be able to wake him up to what he was doing with Deena.

  “Suppose it does.” He glanced over at the door, like he was hoping someone would come in and end this conversation.

  “Where’s back home?” I asked.

  “Here and there. You?”

 

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