Sable Alley

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Sable Alley Page 9

by Bridget Bundy


  “There’s plenty of Chinese restaurants in District Three and Two. Why did we have to come way over here?” CSO Clarke locks the cruiser.

  “I heard the food was phenomenal.”

  “The best in Exeter, right?”

  “The very best in the entire world,” I reply as we start on our way.

  “I can’t remember the last time I had Chinese food.”

  “Me too.”

  “So, let’s be real. Did you bring me over here because of your case, or are we really going to eat?”

  “Clarke, we’re going to eat.”

  “It’s Sam.”

  “What?” I ask with confusion.

  “My name is Sam.”

  “Oh, well, I guess you can call me Victoria.”

  “Vicky for short?”

  “No, Victoria.”

  “Tori?”

  “Victoria.” I point at him. “And if you keep going, I’ll make you say my entire name, including the title.”

  “I do like Tori, but Victoria is nice too.”

  The Chinese restaurant is a tiny spot with very few tables. They offer a buffet or a meal prepared from the kitchen. I opt for the food bar, and so does Sam. After he pays, I load up my plate. Sam is more selective. I don’t think he likes Chinese food, but he’s trying to appease me.

  We sit at the only table near the window and eat silently the entire time. I can’t remember the last time I had a lunch date. Is this even considered a date? Sam is just being nice, I guess. He probably meant to eat lunch with someone else, but they backed out of the commitment. Obviously, I was the last resort, but I’m okay with it.

  “So, Sam, are you married?” I figure I might as well get to his current social status while we’re having a friendly lunch.

  “No. How about you?”

  “No.”

  “Speaking of marriage, I heard about what happened to you this morning.”

  “I’m sure a lot of people heard about it,” I reply with a huff. Anna’s accusations are not the direction I hoped this conversation would go, but since Sam brought it up, I can try to convince him that I’m not involved. “It’s not true,” I tell him. “I’ve never slept with her husband. Ever.”

  “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “I don’t even know who he is.”

  “Her husband works in the same unit with you.”

  “I still have no idea who he is.”

  “Seriously, you don’t know?”

  “Why would I lie?”

  “Detective Constable Kai Webb. Anna is his wife.”

  I try to remember who that is, but then I see his face. The guy from this morning in the squad room. He spoke to Robinson. I would have never put Detective Webb and Anna together as a couple. Not that they were polar opposites. It’s just he’s the last person I would think of.

  “That was his wife?” I ask skeptically.

  “Yeah,” Sam answers while nodding. “The inwardly and outwardly crazy Anna Webb. Note to self, don’t call her crazy.”

  “Too late. Actually, I called her insane.”

  “To her face?”

  “Yeah, to her face, and she did not like it.”

  “Bad move.”

  “Learned that the hard way.”

  “What did she do?”

  “Spit in my face, and I believe she was trying to kill me.”

  “How did you handle it?”

  “I was about to arrest her, but the guys stopped me.”

  “Anytime she shows up; it’s not pretty. If DS Green wasn’t his boss, Webb would be fired by now.”

  “Do you know what’s wrong with his wife?”

  “Webb hasn’t told anyone, but I hear that when she’s properly taking her medication, Anna Webb is a lovely lady. You wouldn’t think she was the same person you met earlier.”

  “A lovely lady, huh?” I repeat with disbelief. “Yeah, okay. I wonder why she thinks I’m the one who’s having an affair with her husband.”

  “I’m going to be honest with you, Victoria. I seriously doubt he’s having an affair with anyone. The man is dedicated to her. I can’t see it, not in a million years.”

  “She got the idea from somewhere.”

  “It’s all in her head. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  Sam has managed to make me feel better about the whole situation. I exhale and look across the street to the bookstore. Logan Scott comes out. He stands in the door and waves back at someone inside. Then he enters the next entrance. The curtains are drawn over the window of his second-floor office. I can’t tell when he enters, but I know he’s made it up there.

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Sam asks out of nowhere.

  “Call you? For what?”

  “Whenever you have to question someone, I’m supposed to be there with you.”

  “Why? Are you assigned as my partner?”

  “Yep.”

  “Green didn’t tell me.”

  “She told me earlier today.”

  “I just talked to her, and she didn’t say a word.”

  “Now you know.” Sam finishes his drink and wipes his mouth. “You good?”

  “Yeah, I’m full.”

  “Okay, so, where are we going?”

  “Bensington Construction in District Six.”

  Chapter Sixteen.

  A fence encloses the Mosley Road work site. Sky-touching cranes rise above the construction. The building is a skeleton of gray cement and pipes. Some of the workers are leaving the site. Hard hats are coming off as soon as they cross the threshold onto the sidewalk.

  Sam and I are at the gate, signing in with the guard. Once we’re done, he points to the trailer where the construction manager is located. He hands us hard hats, and we make our way through the icy mud and rocks. Someone calls Sam on his IET. He tells me to go on without him.

  When I get to the trailer, I climb the steps carefully and knock on the door. A man with bushy white hair and beard answers. His eyes are watery brown, and he has a dark tan, almost like he was burned. He takes one look at me and ushers me inside quickly. I feel like I have to run.

  “It’s about time,” he says, scratching his head.

  Several lines on the phone to my immediate right is ringing. Files are on the desk. A ding goes off on the other end of the trailer. He apologizes and rushes to where the sound came from. An unknown black object on a plate is smoking from the microwave. He waves his hat, trying to dissipate the white smoke, as he takes out his food. The dish is too hot to handle, and he drops it, cussing and kicking it.

  “Sir, are you okay?”

  He lets out a long sigh and says, “Now that you’re here, I will be. Could you answer that phone for me? It hasn’t stopped ringing all day.”

  The phone has twelve lines lit up.

  “Did you hear what I said?” he says, coming over to me. “Pick up the phone and say, ‘Bensington Construction, Mosley Road Worksite, how may I help you?’ And could you take care of those files too? It’s about time corporate sent me some help.”

  “I’m not from corporate,” I reply.

  “Yes, you are. You have to be.”

  I lift up the phone from the desk and unhook the line from the base to stop the constant ringing. It instantly goes dead. Finally, I can think in this small narrow space.

  “Sir, I’m with the police.” I show him my badge.

  “You’re a cop?” he asks with disbelief. “Are you really?”

  “Detective Constable Victoria Kipling with District Three Police Department.”

  “I don’t need a cop. I need a secretary.”

  “Sorry, I can’t help you there.”

  He flops down in the nearest chair and shakes his head. “Okay, you’re a cop. Why are you here?”

  I grab my IET and select the scanner. “Thumb, please.”

  The man knows the drill. He doesn’t give me a hard time. The device shows his name is Reece Pearson. His record is clean.

  “Mr. Pearson…”

&n
bsp; “Reece, please.”

  “Reece, do you know Ruby Taylor?”

  “She’s my secretary. If you’re looking for her, she hasn’t been to work in two days.”

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “Thursday.”

  “On that day, did she leave early?”

  “No, Ruby worked her normal hours.”

  “Where were you on Sunday?”

  “At home.”

  “Can someone verify that?”

  “Uh, no, I live by myself.”

  “Did Ruby seem bothered, or was she having problems with coworkers or with you?”

  “Nobody messed with Ruby. We liked her. She was a sweet girl. Did she accuse the guys or me of something? Is that why she didn’t come to work? I wouldn’t hurt her. None of the guys would.”

  “No one threatened her? Are you sure?”

  “Every employee who works for me are professionals. They are here to work, and so is Ruby. If anyone even thought about messing with her, they would have to deal with me, and they would lose their job. What’s going on?”

  “When was the last time you called her?”

  “Yesterday and today. I didn’t get an answer, and I went by her apartment not too long ago. No one was home, including her sister who doesn’t go anywhere. Detective, talk to me. Is Ruby okay? Is Erin okay? Did something happen to them?”

  “Erin is fine, but I’m sorry to tell you that Ruby is dead.”

  Stunned and at a loss for words, Reece stares through me. He’s trying to fathom what I just said. He turns his back, paces away. I’m not sure if it’s an act or he’s sincere.

  “That’s not right,” he mumbles.

  “I’m sorry?”

  Reece shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head. “Ruby being dead. She can’t be. Are you sure?”

  “Her identification was confirmed.”

  He slumps down in the nearest chair. His entire body hides every inch of the plastic.

  “How?” he asks, perplexed. “How did she die? She was so young. Was she in an accident?”

  “She was murdered.”

  “Murdered!?” Reece straight up doesn’t believe it. “Ruby Taylor, that sweet little lady, who didn’t do a thing to anyone was murdered?”

  “Yes.”

  “How? Who?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m trying to find out.”

  Reece blows out his anguish, his utter frustration. “I can’t believe this. Ruby had to be all of twenty-five years old, younger than that. She was a baby. She was just beginning her life. I just can’t…”

  “Reece, would one of your employees hurt Ruby?”

  “Absolutely not. The guys thought well of her.”

  “Was she seeing anyone here?”

  “Ruby was single. At least, that was my impression.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’d ask her if she was going on a date sometimes, and she would say she had school. She didn’t have time to date.” Reece stands, puts his hands on his hips, and then he starts pacing.

  I take note of his size and height. He’s a broad man, tall, and strong. Big enough to beat Ruby easily.

  “Detective, are you sure Ruby is dead? There’s just no way.”

  I don’t have to answer. He knows it’s true.

  “Who would hurt her? I mean, she was liked by everybody. She had no enemies. You must be wrong.”

  “No, sir, I’m afraid not.”

  Sam walks through the entrance. Upon seeing me, he asks, “Everything good?”

  “Yes, CSO Clarke, this is Mr. Reece Pearson, Ruby’s supervisor.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir.” Sam shakes hands with him. Next to Reece, he’s not as tall.

  Reece nods, but he’s still preoccupied over the bad news.

  “How can I help?” he says, now a blanket of hurt washing over his suntanned face. “If there’s anything I can do, I’ll do it.”

  “I need you to try to remember if Ruby had problems with anyone? Can you recall heated conversations she might have had over the phone?”

  Reece thinks hard, but he’s coming up blank. I can tell he’s sincere about wanting to help. I zoom in to the desk with the files. An idea comes to mind.

  “Is this where she sat?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Do you mind if I search her desk?”

  “No, please, go ahead.”

  I sit down in Ruby’s seat and look around from her point of view. The trailer is narrow and trashed, but her space is clean. Even the files on her desk are stacked neatly. I go through them, only finding invoices and receipts. Nothing stands out. I open the drawers, finding only pens and notecards in one compartment. The rest are empty.

  I turn on the computer. Exeter on the Rydal University is the homepage. That’s it! That’s what I forgot earlier after I spoke to Erin Mitchell at the police station. I meant to find out where Ruby was going to school by checking her online profile, but I was so annoyed about not making progress on the case and the silent judgment by the other detectives. I’m good now. The university homepage is loaded, and her account is accessible.

  Options on the screen reads:

  TUITION

  MARKS

  FORMER CLASSES

  CURRENT CLASSES

  REQUIRED CLASSES

  I select MARKS first. Her grades are just as Erin said they were. Ruby was an ace student. She was taking two classes, and she needed one more to graduate. Tuition was paid in full, including the last course she hadn’t taken, but it doesn’t say who paid. She was working towards a bachelor’s degree in construction management.

  “Reece, who was funding Ruby’s education?”

  “She paid for it, I guess,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders.

  It’s obvious he doesn’t know. I go through the rest of the website. She has a marketing class Monday through Thursday at six in the evening, and a soils class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at half past four. Today is Tuesday, and it’s close to three. I still have two more persons of interest I haven’t spoken to yet, and now I’ve added Ruby’s professors to the list. I have my work set out for me.

  “Did you find anything important?” Reece leans over the desk to see the computer screen.

  “She was close to getting a bachelor’s degree. One more class.”

  Frustrated, he shakes his head.

  “Reece, did anyone ever pick her up after work?”

  “She caught the train every day as far as I knew.”

  There’s nothing else I can think of to ask or say. So, I send Ruby’s marks to my email. Then I look at the desk phone and make a note of the number on my IET.

  “Reece, I have one more question for you before I go. Did Ruby have to sign a nondisclosure agreement to work here?”

  “No, she’s not in that kind of position.”

  “Did Ruby tell you she was taking classes at the university?”

  “Yes, it’s the reason why she left work at three every day.”

  “What was her plans after graduation?”

  “I’m not sure, but I know she was looking for a job that fit the degree she was trying to get.”

  “How did you feel about that?”

  “I was rooting for her. If she got a better job, Ruby could move out of that bad neighborhood and take better care of her sister. Being a secretary in this hole doesn’t pay nothing.”

  I believe he wouldn’t hurt Ruby, but I’m not good at reading people. “Alright, Reece, thank you for your help.”

  “Ah, before you go, Detective. When is Ruby’s funeral?”

  I suddenly realize I have no idea. “She may not have one,” I reply.

  “Where is she now? Can you tell me?”

  “Ruby is with the medical examiner. Her body hasn’t been released yet.”

  “Will you let me know when they do? I want to give her a proper burial.”

  “Of course.”

  “Wait a minute, please.” Reece rushes back to his of
fice and comes back with a business card. “That is my direct number. Just call me when Ruby is released, and I’ll have a funeral home take care of the arrangements.”

  “That’s very nice of you.”

  “She was a good person, Detective. A gracious young lady, and I don’t want her to rest in a pauper’s grave. Don’t forget to call me, please.”

  “I won’t. Thank you for your time.”

  Chapter Seventeen.

  After Sam drops me off at my car, I drive to the station to upload the recorded conversations I had with Ollie Hunt, Georgia Knight, Father Butler, and Reece Pearson. Reece’s reactions and how he wants to help with Ruby’s funeral stands out. It’s nice, but is it appropriate? And I question how he took the news that Ruby was dead. Reece could have been pretending, but there’s no way to prove it.

  “What are you doing?” Robinson is hooking up his IET to his computer.

  “Uploading interviews to the dictation program.”

  “I’m about to do the same thing.” He types on the keyboard and looks down at his IET. “Damn it. Thing is blinking out again.”

  “Why isn’t your IET working?”

  “It works but not all the time. I dropped it. I put in a request to get a new one, and now I have to wait. Precinct rules. If they’d issued them like they do guns, I would have a new one right now.” Robinson leans into the computer monitor and hits enter. “There we go. Now, it’s working. So, Finley Price and Erin Mitchell are officially cleared. That means you’re back to having zero suspects.”

  “I’m making progress. I found out that Ruby was attending Exeter on the Rydal University. She was getting a degree in construction management. I got her work phone number, and I’m filling out a request for the phone records. I talked to her boss today too.”

  “Where did she work?”

  “Bensington Construction on Mosley Road. Her boss’s name is Reece Pearson. He has no record with us. Pearson is a big guy, and he has a white beard.”

  “Like a giant Santa Claus,” Robinson says jokingly.

  “Stronger and not as jolly. He spoke highly of Ruby, and he also said that no one at the worksite bothered her.”

  “He could be protecting his employees.”

  “I didn’t get that impression. He wants to pay for Ruby's burial. Do you think that’s unusual?”

 

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