by Diane Weiner
Mr. Rossi said, “I know Ellie liked to drink with her friends after work sometimes, but to get drunk and go on the lake? That wasn’t her. Ellie swore up and down she was sober, and when she was tested, there was no sign of alcohol in her blood.”
“Unfortunately, they didn’t test her until hours later. The prosecutor tried to make a case that she’d had time to get it out of her system before being tested.”
Sara said, “Hunter Griffith told me they found alcohol on the boat.”
“Yeah. The prosecutor said in court that forensics found her fingerprints on a beer bottle in the boat, and that the boat was reeking of alcohol when it was recovered.”
“How did Ellie explain that?”
“She said she was set up. Someone wanted her locked up where she’d keep her mouth shut.”
Why on Earth didn’t they mention this before? There was someone out there who was after Ellie months before she was murdered and her parents didn’t say anything?
Mr. Rossi cleared his throat. “I know what you’re thinking. In fact, we did go to the police last summer after it happened.”
“And?”
“And they treated us like naïve parents making excuses for our daughter. Even went to the defense lawyer with it. She said her investigator turned up nothing as far as a boyfriend or any threats to Ellie.”
“And that was behind Ellie’s back. She begged us not to get involved,” said Mrs. Rossi.
“Did you ever notice bruises, or signs she’d been abused?”
“No, never. Then again, there were periods of time where we were gone, sometimes weeks at a time.”
“Had she received threats from Hunter Griffith after she was cleared in criminal court?”
“I don’t know of any. He turned around and started a civil suit. Seemed confident of winning, at least that’s what he said in interviews.”
“But he lost.”
“Yes. Just a few weeks before Ellie was killed.”
“Would he have any reason to break into Ellie’s house? Anything that would have proven his case?”
“I don’t know.”
“Thanks for talking to me. I’m going to look into this. Here was a clear threat that seemed to be pushed aside for whatever reason. I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”
Next, she stopped at Medivision to talk to Camaya.
When she arrived, two interviewees dressed in suits, studying notes, sat outside the boss’s door. Craig Danalchek ushered him in and ushered the one he’d been interviewing out.
“We’ll let you know. Next.”
More like an assembly line than a job interview. Sara interpreted the interaction. Don’t call us, we’ll call you. How many times did I hear that while I was auditioning––before I got San Francisco? She rubbed her hand. I can’t go through that again.
“Hi, come over here.” Sara made her way over to Camaya’s desk.
“Hey, looks like he’s replacing Ellie already.”
“He’s already forgotten she ever was part of this company. He’s replacing her and then some. The company is growing fast. He has two new positions to fill. Have a seat. You said you wanted to ask me more about Ellie.”
“Yes. I just found out Ellie was involved in a boating accident. Did you know about it, and do you have any idea where she got a boat? Her parents say she didn’t own one.”
“I’m afraid it was my boat. When my Dad bought a bigger one, he let me have his old one.”
“Did Ellie go boating often? I don’t ever remember her mentioning boating.”
“Oh, no. It was strange. The day of the accident, it was a Friday afternoon. Ellie was upset and asked if she could borrow the boat. She said it was urgent.”
“Urgent?”
“She didn’t elaborate, but clearly she had a problem to deal with and was desperate, so I said yes.”
“And you have no idea what the problem could have been?”
“Honestly, no. I told you she’d been acting strangely. It was early afternoon and she planned to sneak out. Asked me to cover for her, which was unnecessary since our boss was already gone for the day and our co-workers certainly didn’t care if she snuck out. She went out to leave, then came back and asked about the boat. Later, I saw her car still parked in the company lot. She must have taken a cab or walked to the marina.”
“I have to ask. Had she been drinking?”
“No, of course not. At work?”
“I guess you’re right.” She felt embarrassed for sounding so insensitive. “Was she seeing anyone?”
“I don’t think so. Then again, she may not have told me if she was. I didn’t know about Preston right away.”
“She never told me about Preston. Never mentioned she was engaged, or that the wedding was consequently called off. Can’t say I wasn’t hurt by that.”
“That was her. Open about almost anything else, but kept her private life guarded. Don’t take it personally. She told me about you. Told me stories about sleepovers and camp-outs with her best friend, Sara. She even kept a picture of the two of you in her desk.” She fished the framed photo out of a drawer in Ellie’s desk. “You should keep this.”
Sara wiped tears from her eyes, fighting the urge to start sobbing. If she started, she didn’t know if she’d be able to stop. Breathe in, breath out. When she was sure her voice wouldn’t crack, she said, “The police found the boat. Why didn’t she return it to you?”
“She called me crying after the accident. She said she was scared. I could hear it in her voice. She said she’d get the boat back to me the next day, if that was okay. I told her there was no rush. It wasn’t like I planned on fly-fishing at sunrise or anything. The police intercepted it before she could return it.”
“She was scared? Why? Because she’d hit the other boat?”
“I don’t think that was it. It’s more like she was scared someone was after her.”
Craig Danalchek had stepped out of his office to usher in the next number in the interview cattle call. Camaya whispered, “I have to get back to work or there’ll be another open position. Keep me posted, please.”
“I will.”
Interesting. Ellie borrows the boat to do something urgent. Where was she going? Why not take her car? Camaya senses she’s scared of something or someone. Hunter Griffith is sure it was her fault her son died because she was drunk and speeding, yet Camaya says she hadn’t been drinking, and Ellie’s blood alcohol levels were fine—although time had passed before she was checked. And what about the beer bottle in the boat with Ellie’s prints?
She looked at her watch and decided to head to the police station. She hoped she hadn’t been too cold to Phil. She needed his help. Having her mother working at the station was an advantage as far as gathering information she might not otherwise be able to access.
When she arrived, her mother was busy at her desk, looking professional in her gray skirt and matching sweater. A hand painted nameplate on the desk said, Patty Baron, Manager. She wondered if her father bought it for her, or if her mother picked it up herself at one of the craft fairs she had a habit of, make that an obsession with, frequenting.
“Hi, honey. Are you here to see Detective Lambert?” Sara hated that twinkle in her mother’s eyes whenever she smelled a potential son-in-law.
“Yes, is he in?”
“He’s there. His door is open for you.”
Sara walked in. Smoothing things over, she said, “I had a nice time last night.”
“Me too. We’ll have to go back. Did you get a good night’s sleep?”
He doesn’t seem to be mad or anything. I like that he’s so even keeled. Unlike Travis, whose mood changed with each new wave. “I did. Did you get a chance to review the interview notes?”
“I’ve got them right here. The damage on the boat Ellie was driving matched the damage to the Griffith boat. A witness who was fishing at the pier says all three boats were speeding.”
“All three? There was a third boat?”
>
“Griffith says there wasn’t. Ellie said she couldn’t remember if there was a third boat. If there was, it wasn’t involved in the accident so it’s irrelevant.”
“Ellie told her parents she was trying to get away from trouble. The driver may have seen something. Didn’t you want to interview a potential witness?” Phil looks annoyed, better tread carefully or he’ll shut down.
“The witness on the pier had been drinking. Didn’t know if he’d seen a third boat, or if he saw Hunter’s boat twice. Couldn’t tell us the size, the model, how many people were on board—nothing. At one point he wasn’t sure if it might have been a sailboat. The information was too unreliable and vague. It’d have been like looking for a particular grain of sand in the desert.”
“Did Ellie ever make a report over being abused or stalked?”
“No, I checked.”
“Does Hunter Griffith have a record?”
“A parking ticket, which he paid. On time. Nothing else.” The desk phone rang. “Detective Lambert. I’ll be right there.”
“An emergency?” Stop it Sara. Physical therapist having an emergency—shady. A police detective having an emergency? Completely plausible.
“I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.” He caught her by surprise when he gave her a peck on the cheek before leaving.
Sara was hoping for more information, though it was the first time she heard mention of a third boat. How could there be only one witness? It was a summer Friday afternoon. No one else in the entire town happened to be out fishing, swimming, or boating? Someone else must have seen the third boat. She had an idea. She called Mrs. Rossi..
“Sorry to bother you again, Mrs. Rossi, but do you happen to know the name of Ellie’s defense attorney? Thanks. Great. I’ll let you know.”
Sara drove down the street. The attorney’s office was so close she could have walked over. She stared at a brick office building with newly painted white trim around the windows. The shingle at the entrance read Claire LeBlanc, Attorney at Law.
When she walked in, a woman about her mother’s age was typing behind the front desk.
“Hello, I was wondering if I could speak to Ms. LeBlanc. I don’t have an appointment, but I just need a few minutes of her time.”
“That would be me. Good help is hard to find. It’s a one-woman show around here. Are you in need of an attorney?”
“No, I’m a friend, was a friend of Ellie Rossi. I’m the one who found the body.”
“I’m so sorry. Tragic, simply tragic what happened to her. How can I help you?”
“I’m trying to find out if you had anything on Hunter Griffith, the man whose son died in the boating accident. Do you have any, forgive my bluntness, dirt on him? The police say they have nothing but I know being Ellie’s attorney you must have done some thorough digging.”
“Hunter Griffith didn’t have any formal complaints against him, but he stood up and openly threatened Ellie when the verdict was read. He said in front of the entire courtroom that he was going to kill her like she killed his son.”
“And he wasn’t arrested?”
“It was only a threat, and he had just lost his son. I don’t think anyone took it seriously. The car, however…”
“What do you mean? What car?”
“Ellie’s car was vandalized not long after that. I told her to report it and she was set to do that, only she changed her mind.”
“Changed her mind?”
“She told me the insurance would take care of it and she was determined to drop the whole thing. I thought it was strange, but then again, she’d just been through a lot and I assumed she wanted to put it all behind her.”
“What do you make of the police finding the beer bottle with Ellie’s prints in the boat?”
“Ellie swears it was planted. She didn’t bring beer with her, nor did she see any on the boat when she got in. You know, I might have something for you. Jordan Griffith, the boy who was killed, had a history of reckless driving and underage drinking. He was a minor, so all this wasn’t brought out in court. To top it off, our sole witness thought it might have been a younger man driving the boat. That was our reasonable doubt. What if Jordan was drinking and was responsible for the crash, not Ellie?”
“What about a third boat? Didn’t the witness say there was a third boat?” Phil said the witness didn’t know if there’d been a third boat.
“He did. He even gave me a description, then called the next day and said he was wrong. There wasn’t another boat. I dropped by his place of employment later that day to have him sign his statement and…”
“And what?”
“He was wearing sunglasses inside the store where he worked. The lighting was super dull, too. And there’s more.”
“What?”
“It was very warm that day, but he was wearing a long sleeved shirt. His finger had a splint on it.”
“Like he’d been in a fight?”
“Or was beaten up. It crossed my mind that he may have had help deciding to take back his account of seeing a third boat, but there was nothing I could do.”
“You’ve been really helpful. Do you suppose the witness would be willing to talk to me?”
“I’ll call him and give him your number. It’s up to him. Hope you find justice for your friend.”
When Sara got into the car, she called Camaya. The prints on the beer bottle still troubled her.
“Camaya, can you think of any way that beer bottle could have gotten into the boat and why Ellie’s prints were on it? Did she drink that brand of beer? I saw on the evidence report that it was a local apple-flavored craft beer.”
“Oh, that was her favorite. As a matter of fact, we all went to happy hour Thursday night at Ralph’s. It’s kind of an office tradition. She hadn’t been joining us much lately, but that night I convinced her to come. I suppose if someone was sly enough, they could have taken a bottle she drank from, though I know that sounds far-fetched.”
“Maybe not. Who was at that happy hour? Can you make a list?”
“It was months ago and they all kind of run together, but I’ll try. Oops. Boss on deck. Gotta go.”
Chapter 27
Sara told her father she would help out this afternoon so she made her way to the oboe shop.
“Grandpa, you’ve made a lot of progress on that oboe. Didn’t you start it yesterday?”
“Yeah, yeah. I could do this in my sleep.”
She took out the wood she had started shaping yesterday. “How are things with Gail?”
“Ah, good. We’re getting together to play cards tonight at our place. Jacob’s coming, too.”
“That’s good. I know Jacob has been having a hard time since he lost his wife.”
Bob said, “Less yacking, more hacking. We’re making progress on our list. Need help, Sara?”
“Can you check this before I continue, just to be sure?”
Her father measured the work she’d done, comparing it to a graph he was holding.
“Dad! I think I got it.” She grabbed the logbook from the drawer and opened to great grandfather’s numbers. “This has to be measurements, like we said. Just the darker numbers.”
“Yeah, but I told you, the numbers don’t make sense.”
“What about the proportions?”
Her father held it under the lamp. “The proportions are a little funky, but could work if the numbers are correct.”
Her grandfather said, “My father loved codes, especially the ones where you have to transpose the numbers or letters. Is there anything else on the page?”
She looked carefully. “All these other lighter numbers. Wait, there’s a few letters. Give me that pad of paper and a pencil.”
She jotted down the few letters she found. I E O R S E A C M N I J O R. She played around with the order.
“Let me see that,” said Grandpa. As he got up, he grabbed his side. “Ow. My hip.”
“Are you okay, Grandpa?”
“Yeah. I’l
l live. Give me that.”
She handed him the paper. He fiddled with the letters. “I know this means something, I need time to work on it.” He got up to show Sara. Bob said, “How about working on what’s in front of us. We’re on a roll. For the first time in a long time I have a glimmer of hope that we can catch up. Sara, this looks good so far.” He handed her back the slab of wood she’d started carving.
She continued working until her father was ready to quit. She’d kept her phone beside her all day hoping for a call from the witness the defense lawyer was going to contact on her behalf. Nothing. No calls from the witness; no apology calls from…the idiot next door.
It was past dinner-time when she drove back to her place. She saw Travis’s car in his driveway. He hadn’t had the courtesy of telling her when or where he was going and after their argument? He’d better not be expecting a ticker tape parade from me, that’s for sure.
She turned off the alarm, took off her jacket, and shivered in the icy house. She turned on the lights and jacked up the thermostat.
“Panther, come here.” The cat ran to her. “At least someone cares if I’m here or not.” She opened the freezer and took out a frozen lasagna. While it heated in the microwave, she tore open the bag of peanut M&Ms she’d stashed in the pantry. A knock on the door made her jump. Chomping the mouthful of candy, she checked the security camera.
“Travis?” She unlocked the door.
“Yeah. Why do you sound so surprised?”
“We had a fight, remember?”
“Did we?”
She clenched her fists. “You vanish without a word and reappear like a lost puppy. Then you have the nerve to show up on my doorstep?”
“I told you I’m very private. I was hoping to share a pizza, but if you’re mad, I’ll leave.” He swiped the pizza box under her nose. He’s not going to win me back with a pizza.
She wanted to tell him to get lost. She wanted to say friends treat each other better than that. Instead, she said, “No, come in.” If he killed Ellie or knows who did, I need to keep him close. The microwave beeped. “I made dinner. But I can be talked into sharing a pizza. Want half a lasagna for an appetizer?”
