There were four neighbors who weren’t home, but other than the tall-man sightings and the sedan, the foot soldiers were not hopeful that what they had would lead to a breakthrough.
With the heat rising on the police force, O’Brien and Johnson were working Sunday and went back to hit the neighbors they missed. They pulled up to a brown ranch whose rear yard backed up to Wyatt’s. A potbellied man, sporting a stained tee shirt, opened the door.
O’Brien held his badge out. “Good morning, mind if we ask you a couple of questions about what happened behind you?”
“Figured you boys would come ’round. Damn terrible thing.” He stepped outside. “Wyatt was a nice kid an’ all, but they fought like cats and dogs.”
“Who?”
He popped a cigarette in his mouth. “The girlfriend and Billy.”
“How do you know that?”
He lit his smoke. “Well, I hear ’em going at it from the back porch. The wife, she doesn’t let me smoke inside, so I gotta come out back.”
“Did you hear anything, any fighting, on Friday, May fifteenth?”
The neighbor took a deep drag. “It was raining, and the wind was blowing that night.” He lowered his voice and pointed to a hanging chime. “I remember, ’cause my old lady’s damn chimes were clanging away. One of these days I’m going to rip ’em down.”
“But on other nights you stated you heard them fighting?”
“Sometimes, depends on what else is going on. You know, sometimes these kids on these motorcycles; they’re so damn loud I can’t hear my own thinking.”
“Was there anything else about that night you remember?”
He blew smoke through his nose. “Well, now that you say it, that kid Jimmy Johns, heck, he ain’t no kid now, but he used to go to school with my boy Tommy.”
When he took another deep drag on his cigarette, O’Brien prodded, “Go on. What about him?”
“Well, I seen him cutting through my yard.”
“What direction was he moving?”
The neighbor pointed. “Kinda on an angle, moving this way.”
“So, coming from Wyatt’s street?”
“Seemed like it was that way.”
“So how do you know it was this guy Johns?”
“Shit, I know it was him. I had him doing some yard work. My wife had run into him, and he was down on his luck, so we had him come, you know, take out some of the brush and all, about six months ago.” He shook his head. “You know, the bastard had the balls to steal some of my old lady’s Hummels when he came in to use the john.”
“I see. Did you file a report at the time?”
“Nah, poor kid’s just desperate. Besides, she got too many of them things anyways.”
“Do you know where this Jimmy John kid lives?”
“It’s Johns, Jimmy Johns. Don’t know exactly, but the kid is from Keansburg. I think around Second Street or so. They used to be over on Bay Avenue when his momma was alive.”
O’Brien took a description of Johns from the neighbor and continued pounding doors.
The neighbor whose daughter had gone out around the time in question called O’Brien, and the cop stopped off to interview the kid on his way home.
O’Brien was shown into their small living room and took a seat in what must have been the father’s recliner, as both mother and daughter perched themselves on a plaid sofa. There were so many tchotchkes in the room that the place looked like a flea market stand.
“So, Kathy, I’d like you to take your time and try to recall anything you may have seen, heard, or even smelled the night in question.”
“Well, it’s not really much, probably nothing, but my mother keeps hounding me.” She rolled her eyes.
“Well, sometimes even the smallest things can be helpful.” O’Brien flipped open his notepad. “Shall we?”
The kid popped a piece of gum in her mouth. “Well, my girlfriend, Patty, Patty Shields, she lives over in Fox Run. Well, she was coming to pick me up. She has her license already, and her parents got her a car already.” She glanced at her mother, and when she tilted her head, her ponytail lay on her shoulder.
“Okay, go on.”
“So, like, she came, I think like six thirty or so, and when I was getting in the car, another car came up like real fast and kinda like screeched, no, not screeched, but like came to a stop, like real fast and all. But that’s it. We didn’t see anything ’cause we left then.”
“Okay, so where did this car stop?”
“Across the street by that poor guy’s house.” She stopped smacking her gum and looked into her lap.
“In front? Directly in front of the Wyatt house?”
“I guess so.” She pulled on her ponytail.
“Take a second and think about it. Where were you when it pulled up?”
“In front of my house, by Patty’s car.”
“Did, uh, your friend stop right in front of your house?”
“Basically.”
“When you were getting in her car, you could see this car directly to your left.”
The teenager blew a bubble, and nodded.
“Okay, tell me about the car you saw. What color was it?”
She closed her eyes. “Uh, kinda red, like a dark red, maybe burgundy?”
O’Brien jotted a note. “How old would you say? Was it new?”
“No, not new. I don’t know much about cars. Just that I want one.” She giggled.
“Anything else you remember about the car? How many doors? Or special wheels or anything?”
“No, I’m sorry. It’s just that we didn’t pay attention. We didn’t know anything was going to happen.”
“Of course. Now, you told your mother that you didn’t see who was driving. I want you to take your time and think about it. Could it have been a man? A woman?”
“I—I don’t know, but maybe it was a man.”
“What makes you say that it was a man?”
“I don’t know. It just seemed like a car a man would drive. It was kinda fuddy-duddy, if you know what I mean.” She giggled.
“So, it was an older car?”
“Kinda, not a junk box, but not new, for sure. It had that big front thing, uh, uh, what you call it?”
“The grill?”
“Yup, that’s it.”
“The car had a large grill?”
“Yeah, I think so, like, you know, those cars that kinda looked like a, those real expensive cars over in England?”
“Rolls Royce? Bentley?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was something like that.”
“Sounds like it may have been a Chrysler. I hate to impose, but do you folks have a computer we can look at pictures of cars on? It’d be really helpful.”
Chapter 11
Luca and Cremora were greeted at the door by Mrs. Rourke, Mary’s mother, and were shown into the apartment’s small kitchen. Even without makeup, the twenty-something Mary was a stunner. Her shoulder-length auburn hair had a glossy sheen to it, but it was the perfectly apportioned body that Luca nearly gaped at. Braless, Mary’s nipples were pushed against her white tee shirt. Luca had to make a conscious effort not to stare, but he thought he could make out the dark circles surrounding her nipples.
“Mary, these are Detectives Luca and Creama.”
They extended hands. JJ corrected his name as Cremora, and they offered their condolences.
“Sorry it’s so cramped in here.”
There were only three chairs around the half-moon table.
The mother said, “Sit, sit please.”
“It’s okay. I’ve been sitting all day.” Cremora leaned on the fridge as Luca and the mother settled into chairs.
“Again, we’re truly sorry for your loss, Mary, and we’re sorry to bother you at a time like this, but it’s important for us to interview people while the information is fresh in everyone’s mind.”
“I understand,” Mary said as her mother squeezed her hand.
“How lon
g did you know Billy?”
“Almost my entire life, like from grade school.”
“And when did you start dating?”
“Well, we always seemed to have a thing for each other, but we got serious a year ago, and we were gonna"—she sniffled, and her mother offered a tissue—"get engaged for my birthday.”
“Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Billy?”
“Nobody. Everybody liked Billy. He was a prince.” Mary dabbed her eyes.
Luca held up his palm. “Just give it a second and think about it. Anyone he had a beef with, someone from the past, maybe at work?”
Luca watched her tits bounce as she wagged her head. She looked him in the eye, and by her barely perceptible smile, he knew she’d caught him. “Like I said, everybody loved him, right Mom?”
Luca shifted in his seat as the mother chimed agreement.
“Did Billy like to get his way, be the center of attention?”
“Kinda, I guess.”
“Who wouldn’t?” the mother added.
“It’s just that we hear Billy was quite the bully.”
“Mom!”
“How dare you, the poor boy is not even in the ground yet.”
Cremora stepped forward. “Sorry, ma’am, we’re just trying to see if anyone harbored a grudge or something.”
The women pursed their lips and remained quiet.
“Did Billy carry a wallet?”
“Uh, yeah, except he was always losing it, like leaving it behind when he paid the check,” Mary said.
“Do you know if he lost his wallet recently?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say anything to me. Why?”
“We couldn’t locate his wallet on his person or in the house.”
“Did you check his car? He’d put it in the console all the time. Said it bothered him when he sat.”
Luca glanced at Cremora, who said, “Pretty sure we did, but thanks. I’ll check it out, just to be sure.”
Luca ran his hand over his silk tie. “Okay, Mary, I’m going to ask some questions about the morning you called 911. Take your time, and if you need to take a break or anything, just let us know. So, tell me about the morning you found him.”
“Well, it was Saturday, and we always went to the gym together on Saturdays.”
Ostensibly to knock the picture of her in gym shorts out of his head, Luca nodded.
“And what gym is that?”
“WOW on Route 35.”
“The one by Shoprite?”
Mary nodded.
“Kinda out of the way for you to go all the way to his place, wasn’t it?”
“Um, yeah, I guess so. I was out already and figured, you know, to just get him.”
“Where did you go?”
“When?”
“When you were out.”
“Oh, I don’t know, the store or something.”
Luca made a mental note. “You have a dark red car, right?”
“How’d you know?”
“It’s parked in front of your unit. Lucky guess. So, you were shopping, right?”
“Um, yeah, and when I got to the house, Billy’s house, I found him. He was lying there and all the blood and . . .” She broke down, and her mother consoled her.
“Was the door open?”
“No, I have my own key.”
“Okay, what did you do when you found him?”
“I went straight to him. I tried to rustle him, but I knew; I just knew he was . . .” She cried again.
“Take your time, Mary. Did you notice anything unusual? Anything out of place?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t know what to do. I started to scream, and then I just ran out.”
“Did you touch anything?”
“No, I don’t know. Billy, I touched him, and I don’t know what I did . . .”
“Isn’t that enough, officers? My poor baby’s upset.”
“We’re almost through, ma’am.”
Mary wiped her eyes and nodded to her mother.
“Did you and Billy fight often?”
The mother bolted upright. “That’s it! Get out! Get out!”
***
Luca dropped the receiver into its cradle.
“If I have to talk to another crackpot with visions of who did it—”
“School me. This kinda shit never gets covered in the TV shows.”
Luca checked his watch. “Wow, it’s almost six. Time flies when you’re having fun.”
“I’m outta here by six, six thirty latest.”
“Me too. Meeting Deb for pizza and a movie.”
“What're you going to see?”
“She loves DiCaprio, so that remake he’s in—”
“Heard it sucked.”
“Hope so, I could use the nap.”
After a square Sicilian pie at Luigi’s, they settled into their seats at the Hazlet Cineplex, where Luca nodded out a quarter of the way through the flick. Debra enjoyed the movie and filled Luca in on what he’d missed.
As they prepared to hit the sack, Luca said, “Boy, you must really like that Leonardo dude.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just that you seem so happy. I’m ready to get a poster of him for the bedroom.”
Debra shook her head as she capped the toothpaste. “See, all it takes is the simple things, Frank. I don’t need diamonds. They’d be nice, though. Just keeping a promise for a little thing like going to the movies is really all I need.”
Luca came up behind her and nuzzled her neck. He slipped his hand under her robe and caressed her breast. Pressing his hips into her, he steered her onto the bed.
“You know what? I think there might be a diamond under your pillow.”
***
Luca bolted upright, awakening Debra.
“What’s the matter?”
Luca was breathing heavily.
“Nothing. It’s okay.”
Debra reached out and touched his back. “Geez, you’re soaked,” she said.
Luca sighed heavily.
“You’re still having those nightmares?”
“Not like I used to, really; just every now and then.”
“It wasn’t your fault, you know.”
“I know, it’s just that I can see Barrow’s father’s face like it was yesterday.”
Chapter 12
Joanne was a pretty nineteen-year-old who lived with her parents in the same neighborhood as Billy Wyatt. She developed earlier than most girls in her school and owned a rack that had interested older guys since junior high. Attracted to older men, Joanne found herself in a relationship with a married man while she was still in high school. When her parents discovered it, they went ballistic and confronted the man. It was an ugly ending for all and quickly became the talk of the neighborhood.
The devastation and embarrassment made her ripe for a rebound lover, and she secretly began seeing a Hazlet policeman. Thirty-five-year-old Steve was married and had a three-year-old son but was hot and heavy with the teenager nonetheless.
Joanne would feign going out with friends when she left the house to meet with him. Steve would pick her up two blocks away from her home, and they would drive west of Morristown, where no one would see them.
Steve pulled up to the curb. “Hey, good-looking! How’s it going?”
Joanne looked both ways and hopped in the car as Steve leaned over to peck her cheek.
“No one saw you, right?” she said and sank her frame as low as the seat would allow.
“Of course, what’re you worried about?”
“Well, everyone’s spooked, and like, there are cops everywhere.”
“Take it easy. They’re just canvassing to get information about the murder.”
“What’s going on with it? Did they get anyone?”
“Nothing yet; it’s a tough one.”
“Nothing?”
“Couple of pieces, clues. Looks like maybe a robbery gone bad or something.”
Joanne sat quietly as they headed for the parkway.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get him.”
“I think, maybe, oh, it’s probably nothing.”
“What? Tell me, Jo.”
“Well, Friday night, I left to meet you and walked right by his house.”
“Whose house?”
“The kid that got killed.”
“Okay, go on.”
“I was across the street, the side without lights, and I was just past the house when a car came flying up and kinda screeched to a stop in front of his house.”
“Whoa, hold on there.”
Steve pulled into the Cheesequake rest area, and Joanne told him she saw this reddish, or maybe it was a brownish car pull up in front of Wyatt’s house. Then a man—she was certain it was a man, who was about thirty—got out carrying a pole or something. She said she saw him walk up to the door. Joanne said she didn’t think much of it until she heard what had happened and checked to be sure it was the same house. When it was, she was scared and didn’t know what to do.
“You gotta tell the detectives handling the case! We’re going now.” He started the car.
“No, no, I can’t.” She started crying.
“You have to.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Jo, a man’s been killed, brutally beaten to death, and the killer is still out there!”
Her chin fell into her chest. “I know, but . . .”
“No buts, you have information that may help us find who did it.”
“My parents—they’ll find out about us.”
“We’ll handle that.”
“We’ll? You mean you and your wife?”
He slammed on the brakes. “That’s not fair, and you know it!”
“Yeah, well, what about me?” The tears flowed as Steve pulled off the entrance ramp and parked.
“Come on, Jo. Well, maybe we can say you were meeting your friends or—”
Her lips quivered. “Can’t we just forget it?”
“I can’t. I’m sorry, but our guys are busting their asses to track down this guy. He’s a killer, Jo. No one’s safe with him out there.”
She blew her nose. “I know, but can’t we do it, like, anonymously, like on a hotline or something?”
Steve drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Look, I know the guy running the investigation. He’s a good guy. I’ll reach out to him.”
Luca Mystery Series Box Set Page 8
