“That’s never been disputed,” Russell said.
“Anyway, I think Kitty and her boyfriend, Clay, know the new girl at the bank and had prearranged to go there when they knew Marcie would be at lunch. I doubt she’ll ever do it again though.”
Russell rubbed his chin, which had obviously not been shaved that morning. “What’s the girl’s name who works at the bank?”
“Leslie Babcock.”
“Leslie,” he repeated. “Gary, you go to Freddy’s for tires, I assume. Wasn’t there a girl who worked there named Leslie?”
“I think so, now that you mention it.” He smiled. “There you go. Another piece of the puzzle is in place. Leslie used to work at Freddy’s with Kitty and her boyfriend.”
Deena smiled but couldn’t help wondering if there was still something missing. Leslie had said something about her old job being a place where she got dirty. Freddy’s Tire Town certainly matched that description. It would be easy enough for Kitty and Clay to ask her a favor and her granting it, knowing she could use the “I was trying to be a helpful bee” excuse.
Russell stood up and stretched. “Back to work. I think we’ll have the rest of this knocked out in a couple of hours.”
After he walked away, Gary started gathering up the trash. “I know you don’t want to stay and help. You probably need to talk to Dan or write your story or something.”
Deena nodded. “You’re right. I do.” She leaned over and gave her husband a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for understanding. I’ll see you back at home later.”
“Later,” he said.
She got in the car and couldn’t stop thinking about what Gary had said. Was the case really closed? It seemed like such an innocuous ending to such a promising mystery. She wanted to know what Dan thought. Dang. She hadn’t returned his call. The newspaper office was just a few blocks away.
As she pulled onto Webster, a blaring horn made her jump. She slammed down on the brakes just as a pickup truck barely missed hitting her front fender. She was pretty sure the driver gave her a not-so-courteous wave. She deserved it. She had been so wrapped up thinking about her story, she hadn’t noticed the truck.
Taking a deep breath and looking both ways at least three times, she pulled out again, this time vowing to focus on the road and not her news story. If it was even still a worthwhile story to investigate.
She felt like a deflating balloon.
Chapter 12
The post-lunch hum of the newspaper office was familiar to Deena from the short time she had worked from a desk in the newsroom. Soon the sound would swell to a buzz and then eventually be overtaken by the constant drumming of the press churning out the newspapers.
Deena hadn’t quite gotten used to seeing Dan in Lloyd Pryor’s old office. Lloyd had moved upstairs with the executives, and she rarely saw him.
Standing by the door listening to Dan argue with Glen, a copyeditor, over a questionable headline, Deena couldn’t help but smile at the hard work journalists do every day to keep the public informed. Glen left and Dan waved her in.
“Whatcha got for me, cutie? Something big, I hope.”
Deena slumped down into a chair. “It looks like the story’s at a dead end—no pun intended.”
“How so?”
Dan listened as she laid out the facts, all the while crossing his arms and swiveling back and forth in his chair. Finally he said, “Let’s go over your story questions and the answers.”
Deena pulled out her notebook and flipped through the pages. “Okay, first question I had was who was the guy in the morgue and what happened to him. I now know he was Rocky B. and he had a heart attack.”
“Is that all?” Dan rubbed his chin. “Seems to me something is missing. For instance, how did he get Cooper’s ID? Who picked him up from the park and where did he go? How did he end up at the café the morning he was found dead?”
Deena stared back, feeling a bit uneasy. “I guess I could try to figure that out, but does anyone really care? I mean, the story was about Edwin Cooper trying to steal a body from the funeral home. That mystery is solved.”
Dan cocked his head. “Is it?” He leaned on his desk. “Are you now fully satisfied you have all the facts and that all the loose ends are tied up? What about Cooper’s arrest? What will happen to him? And who were the people who picked up Rocky—if that is his name—at the park? And how did he get Cooper’s ID? For all we know, there could be a ring of identity thieves in town.”
Deena listened and even made a few notes. “I guess I can talk to Guttman again and see if there is anything new on Rocky. Maybe Ian Davis too.”
Dan shook his head. “I know you like covering the big mysterious murder cases, but you can’t stop just because a story doesn’t lead to where you think it should go. Unless, that is, you want me to turn it over to someone else.”
Now Deena’s feathers were ruffled. She wasn’t a quitter and wasn’t about to start now. “No, I’m on it. I don’t have anything for today’s edition though, unless Guttman gives me something.”
Dan looked at the large clock on the wall opposite his desk. “You’ve got less than two hours. See if you can get me at least four inches by three o’clock. I’m saving space in section B.”
“Yes, sir.” Deena grabbed her purse and stood up.
“And kiddo, don’t let me down on this one. I need you hungry.”
“You got it,” she said and turned to leave. Too bad her gut didn’t match her words.
IAN DAVIS’S LAW OFFICE was located between the Tribune building and the police department. She figured it would be just as fast to stop in as to try to get Ian on the phone. She pulled up in front of the renovated Victorian house that served as Ian’s office and went inside.
Paulette greeted her with a big smile. “Ms. Sharpe, it’s good to see you back here again. Are you here to get your old job back? Mr. Davis’s last investigator quit already. Wasn’t enough excitement for him.”
Deena could relate but shook her head. “No, I’m here on newspaper business. Is he in?”
“Yes, ma’am, but he’s on the phone.” She pointed to a red button lit up on the console. “Want some coffee?”
“That sounds great,” Deena said and slipped off her jacket. She took a seat in one of the chairs in the reception area and noticed Paulette still at her desk just staring at her with a big grin.
“What?” Deena asked.
“Remember how you told me you could get your own coffee the last time you were here? I remembered.” She gleamed with pride.
“Um, last time I was an employee here, not a visitor.”
“Oh,” Paulette said and jumped up. She looked down at her desk. “He’s off the phone. Do you want me to see if he can talk to you now?”
Deena got up. “I think I’d rather surprise him.”
“Okay,” Paulette said. “I’ll bring you the coffee.”
Ian was scribbling away on a legal pad when she stuck her head in the office.
“Hey, boss. You busy?”
He looked up but didn’t smile. “Oh. Hey. Yes, I’m busy.”
“Just as I thought,” she said. “Busy turning the wheels of justice. Speaking of wheels, did you hear what Edwin Cooper’s granddaughter did?”
Without looking up from his paper, Ian snorted. “That’s a non sequitur.”
“Not if you know that Kitty Cooper works at Freddy’s Tire Town.”
Ian put down his pen and leaned back in his chair. “Five minutes. Seriously, that’s all the time I have.”
Deena cut to the chase. “Kitty took her grandfather to the bank and had him wait in the car. She had arranged for a friend who works at the bank to let her withdraw money and take something valuable from his safe deposit box without his knowledge. Then she kept some of the money.” She watched Ian’s face as she got out her own notepad and pen. “Care to make a statement, counselor?”
“That’s despicable.” He raised his hand to stop her when he saw her write it down. “Off th
e record.”
“That’s not all. He doesn’t remember going to the bank. It seems that might help the case for him.”
“How? It has nothing to do with his taking a gun to the funeral home and threatening Jeffrey Mortimer.”
Deena raised an eyebrow. “But it does have to do with his state of mind. It shows he is clearly not thinking straight. Maybe even senile. You always told me that state of mind plays an important part in any defense.”
“True.” Ian picked up his pen, then turned to a fresh page of the legal pad. “How do you know all this?”
“The girl at the bank, Leslie Babcock, told me, and Kitty herself confirmed it.”
Ian wrote some notes. “Anything else?”
“Not really. I’m still trying to figure out how Edwin’s license and bank statement ended up in the John Doe’s pocket. Have you heard anything about it?”
“Nothing, but then again, Cooper’s case isn’t the most pressing.” He looked at his watch. “Your five minutes are up. Thanks for dropping by. I think this information might help Cooper’s case.”
“Whoa. I need something, anything, for a follow-up story. What about the lawsuits. Is Edwin still threatening to go forward with those?”
“He hasn’t mentioned them again.” Ian rubbed his chin. “How about this. You can say that Mr. Cooper regrets his actions and is willing to work with the authorities to see that the unidentified man gets a proper burial.”
Deena wrote it down. “Did he say that?”
“Just say that I said it on his behalf.”
“Okay, but I may have to square it with him first. Edwin doesn’t like surprises showing up in the newspaper.”
Ian nodded. “You got that right.”
Chapter 13
The clock was ticking, and Deena had very little newsworthy information to add to her story. Sure, she’d found out about Kitty’s shenanigans, but that was private, not meant for public consumption. The real story was about the John Doe and his death.
Wasn’t it?
By now she was convinced there wasn’t much of a story at all other than reporting the full identity of Rocky B. and how he got Edwin’s personal belongings. Maybe Russell was right. They could have fallen out of the car and been picked up by Rocky in the parking lot. It seemed like too big of a coincidence, and she knew there were rarely weird coincidences when it came to crime.
Maybe Guttman had found something out. She sat in the car still in front of Ian’s office and called the station.
Linda McKenzie made it clear the detective was busy and she couldn’t put Deena’s call through.
Time for plan B. She drove to the shopping center where her friend Sandra Davis, wife of her ex-boss attorney Ian Davis, ran the Second Chance thrift shop. Obviously she didn’t have time to stop in and see Sandra, but across the way in the parking lot was the doughnut shop where cops liked to hang out. When she got there, a squad car was parked in front.
She went in and found Officer Hitchcock and another uniformed officer she didn’t recognize chatting up some women at the next table. One of those women was her neighbor Christy Ann.
“What’s going on here?” Deena said lightly. “Are you all having a neighborhood watch meeting without me?”
Christy Ann made a face. “No, Deena.” She turned to the others. “She likes to make jokes. Thinks everything is funny.”
“Hey, Mrs. Sharpe,” Hitchcock said with a tilt of his head. “Have you met the newest addition to Maycroft’s fine police force?”
“No, I haven’t.”
The young officer stood up and shook her hand. “Hi. I’m Luis Santos, at your service.”
Deena was impressed. The new recruit was fresh faced and polite, a welcome change to the rest of the department. And unlike Hitchcock, he wasn’t grinding on a ratty toothpick. She introduced herself, adding that she was a reporter for the Tribune.
“Must you tell everyone that?” Christy Ann said as she laid her napkin on the table. “I was just telling these officers how devastated we all were when your newspaper printed that our beloved neighbor Edwin was dead. Such a travesty.”
Deena shook her head. “Well, yes, it was an error that we corrected today.”
“Would you like to sit down,” Santos said and pulled out a chair.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Deena took a seat and pulled out her notepad. “Actually, I’d like to ask you both a few questions.”
Christy Ann pushed back her chair with a screech as it drug across the linoleum floor. “Well, that’s our cue to leave. Let’s go, Nancy. Nice meeting you, Officer Santos. Hope to see you both at the Little League fundraiser.” With that, they left.
Hitchcock was on to Deena. “You’re not going to ask about the John Doe, are you? Guttman said—”
“Guttman, smuttman.” That hadn’t come out right. “You know what I mean. He’s not the boss of you.”
Hitchcock used his tongue to shift the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “Uh, actually, he is.”
“Hmm. Well, then I know a way you can impress him.”
Tilting back his chair made Deena worry Hitchcock would tip over backwards. It was all she could do not to slide into teacher mode and tell him to stop.
He rocked the chair on its back legs. “You say that like I care if I impress him.”
Deena narrowed her eyes. “You don’t?”
“Not really.”
“Now is that how you expect to set a good example for your new partner?” She waved a hand at the rookie.
Santos looked up cautiously at the other officer. “Hitch has taught me a lot already, but some of it is a little sketchy.”
Hitchcock snickered. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt for Santos here to get in good with the brass. Whatcha got?”
She fanned her face with the notepad. “Just the name of your John Doe, that’s all.”
Hitchcock leaned forward and the front legs of the chair crashed to the floor. “What? We’ve had every officer on the force trying to get that information. How’d you find it out?”
“I have my sources.” Deena waited for the flood of accolades but suddenly found herself in a stare-down with the mountain of the man in blue. What was going on? Was he too obstinate to ask her for help? Was she just supposed to lay this juicy piece of evidence at his feet?
After what seemed like an eternity, Santos interrupted the pissing match. “Mrs. Sharpe, we’d be grateful for any information you could provide us.”
Deena blinked and turned to Santos. “He told people his name was Rocky B. There are guys at the Pine Tree Motel who know him. It will probably cost you to get more out of them. Talk to a guy named Tiny.”
Santos scribbled down his notes. “That’s a big help, Mrs. Sharpe. Thank you.”
She turned her attention to Hitchcock. “If you guys ever go with the good cop, bad cop thing, make sure you’re the bad cop.”
He rolled his eyes like a middle school mean girl. “Whatever. Is that it?”
“Depends. Do you know anything about how Rocky ended up at the coffee shop or how he got Cooper’s ID?”
“Nope.”
Deena looked back at the other man. “Officer Santos, you should know that the police and the press are on the same side. We all want justice. We do what’s called quid pro quo. Tit for tat. You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours.”
“Got it,” Santos said with a pearly-white grin.
“I just gave you a nugget, now you’re expected to give me one.” She pointed to her notepad.
“How about this,” Santos said. “One of the cooks at the café where John Doe was found deceased said he saw a red car driving off out of the parking lot in the middle of the night. He asked us to keep it on the down low since he’s living at the restaurant without the owner’s permission.”
“Santos,” Hitchcock barked. “What are you doing?”
The young officer straightened up in his chair. “Well, it seems to me that we need to maintain a good working re
lationship with Mrs. Sharpe. You know what they say, ‘You can catch more flies with honey.’”
Hitchcock grabbed his big hat and stood up. “Let’s get back to work.”
Santos used his hand to make the “call me” telephone sign as he followed the other officer out.
The information wasn’t anything she could really add to her story, but at least it was something to follow up on. Could that have been the same car that picked Rocky up at the park? She flipped back through her notes. She found the page where Tiny had said the people who picked up Rocky drove a red or maroon sports car. It could be the same one.
She looked up just as the waitress dropped Hitchcock’s bill on the table. That skunk hadn’t paid his tab. She pulled out her wallet, but something wouldn’t leave her brain. Where had she just seen a red sports car? Her eyes drifted out the window to the parking lot. Gary drove a red sports car, but she was sure that wasn’t it.
She dropped some bills on the table and got up. Then it hit her like a Mack truck. Someone recently had been driving an old dark-red car.
It was Kitty, Edwin’s granddaughter.
Chapter 14
Back at home, Deena struggled to write four inches of copy to send Dan. About the only new information she could add was that the police still did not know the identity of John Doe. She repeated the facts of his death and mentioned that he was last seen getting into a dark-red car near Southside Park.
That would have to do for now. She corrected a few typos and emailed the draft to Dan. It wasn’t easy to write a nonstory.
She looked at the clock and knew Gary would probably be home soon. If she hurried, she might be able to talk to Leslie Babcock again at the bank. She picked up her notepad and put it in her purse.
Hurley jumped up and wagged his tail like a kid headed to Disneyland. He’d gotten used to Deena taking him in the car when she went on short errands.
“Sorry, boy. Not this time. I’m going to the bank, and you’d just have to wait in the car.” She immediately pictured Edwin waiting in the car while Kitty went in the bank to steal from him. The anger rose and she could feel it in her cheeks. Maybe she would give Kitty a call that evening to let her know she’d be keeping a better eye on Edwin and that Kitty better not try anything like that again. The woman was surely smart enough to know she didn’t want to be cut out of her grandfather’s will.
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