Back to Salem

by Alex Marcoux

  With each step closer to the door, Jessie felt her pulse race. Before she opened the door, she whispered, “God, please no.” Jessie squeezed the doorknob and turned it. There wasn’t adequate light to see much inside. She knew where the light was and proceeded toward it, but after three steps she stumbled upon something and fell to the damp tarp. What the hell? With her hands, she felt the box that she had tripped over. She dragged the box closer to the crawl space doorway to see what it was, knowing she hadn’t left a box near the door. Then she saw the camping gear.

  “Shit.” Now Jessie was certain that Taylor had been here. She stood, arched over and proceeded toward the center of the room. With hands outstretched, she groped, searching for the string. One of her feet hit an object on the floor. She knew something else was displaced, and then she found the string, quickly pulled it, illuminating the storage room.

  Her heart sank when she saw the corrugated box opened before her. Oh, God. Her eyes combed the personal items she had collected years earlier on Taylor. She turned to another box that sat next to it. It was a heavier box and she turned it so she could read the outside label, “In Her Way by I.D.”

  Shit. She found out, Jessie thought sadly.

  “It’s begun,” that little voice echoed in her head.

  Jessie quickly picked up the box containing the personal information on Taylor, turned the light switch off and went through the workroom. She knew she had to work fast. Jessie felt her adrenaline rush as she ran upstairs to her office. She turned on her paper shredder and proceeded to destroy the contents of the box. Quickly, she fed the paper cutter. The downloaded articles, lyrics, drawings, magazines easily went. Then she picked up her journal and started tearing the pages from it, destroying the evidence. Finally, she was left with the CDs. She went to her entertainment center in her living room and randomly dispersed them in the vast collection of music.

  Jessie went back to her office. She broke down the corrugated box into smaller pieces and threw it in a trash bag along with the shredded papers. She removed the trash bag to the garage. It hit her that she had to find something. I’ve got to find that receipt from Rollins. In her kitchen, she pulled a shoebox from a cabinet and placed it on the counter. Frantically, she scanned the receipts. About a third of the way through the box, she found it.

  She recalled the afternoon she went into Rollins Florist and purchased the white roses. The owner’s wife, Betty, had helped her that day. Jessie remembered driving over to Taylor’s house before the conference and staging the seduction scene. She tore the receipt repeatedly then put the tiny pieces down the garbage disposal. She felt her quickened pulse recover a bit. What else? What am I forgetting?

  Later that afternoon, Jessie was online in a chat room when she heard the doorbell ring. “I’ve got to go,” she typed, sent her message then exited. Jessie wasn’t surprised when she opened the door and found Bradley among a small group of men at her front entrance.

  Bradley held up a piece of paper to Jessie. “Ms. Mercer, we have a warrant to search your property.” Abruptly the other men infiltrated the house.

  Jessie watched but didn’t interfere as the men searched the premises. At some point, she couldn’t handle the privacy invasion so she left the house. She went outside and sat at a bench in the rear of her property, beneath the tall trees.

  It had been confirmed why Taylor left so abruptly. I need to set her straight. She pulled out her cell phone and called Taylor’s house. There was no answer, but Jessie left a message on her voicemail. “Taylor, it’s me. We need to talk. Please call when you get this message.” She left a similar message when calling Taylor’s cell phone.

  Jessie called Mark’s office and Theresa answered. “Hi Theresa. This is Jessie Mercer. Is Mark in?”

  “Not right now. He’s out shopping for his rafting trip. He leaves tomorrow.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I’ll call his mobile. Thanks.” Jessie ended the conversation and started pressing the buttons again.

  “Mark Rutledge,” he answered.

  “Hi Mark, it’s Jessie.”

  “Oh…hi Jessie.” Mark’s hesitation confirmed that Taylor had spoken with him.

  “Mark I need to speak with Taylor. It’s important.”

  “Why don’t you call her?”

  Jessie took a chance. “Because I know she’s with you.”

  There was silence on the other end, then dial tone. Mark had disconnected.

  It was close to five o’clock when the police officers were loading the van and getting ready to leave. Jessie caught a glimpse of the back of the van before the doors were shut. She noticed they had packed up her research boxes on three of her novels, by her pseudonym Ivy Deverell. There was also an unidentified box and a garbage bag that sat next to the three larger boxes.

  “We’d like you to stop by the police station tomorrow. Ten o’clock. We have some questions regarding the murder of Kurk Warner,” Bradley said.

  “You want me to come by the police station?” Jessie knew that only serious suspects were interrogated at the police station. Yet, she also knew that the suspects were generally escorted to the station. He doesn’t have enough on me, Jessie concluded.

  “Having counsel available is advisable.”

  The following morning Jessie met her long-time friend, Linda Speller, at a coffee shop across from the police station. She asked for the meeting.

  “I need your help. I’m in trouble,” Jessie confided. “I’m a suspect in the Kurk Warner murder and I’m scheduled for an interrogation in an hour.”

  “Murder? I thought Warner had an accidental allergic reaction.”

  “We don’t have a lot of time. Would you stay through my interrogation? Make sure I don’t make any fatal errors?”

  “Of course, but you need to tell me why you’re a suspect.”

  “I think the only thing they have on me is that the initials of the person that has been harassing Taylor is I.D. I believe that Taylor came across some of my work on my first novels. I used a pen name, Ivy Deverell.”

  “What’s the connection between the harasser and the murderer?”

  “The last letter implied that the harasser took care of Kurk to be with Taylor.”

  “I see,” Linda said. “You know I’m a corporate attorney, Jessie.”

  “I know. I just need someone that is going to make sure I don’t do something stupid.”

  “Are you and Taylor still involved?”

  Jessie shook her head. “She left two days ago saying she needed time. She hasn’t returned any of my phone calls. It doesn’t look good, Linda.”

  Linda and Jessie walked into the police station at ten o’clock sharp. The two were escorted to a second-floor interrogation room. It was a simple room. There were no windows and nothing lining the walls. A wooden table with four wooden chairs centered the room. Bradley and a female officer, Detective Roth, joined the women in the small room. Bradley wasn’t surprised when Jessie introduced Linda as her attorney.

  The four sat around the table, and then Detective Bradley started asking Jessie questions. Roth just took notes, and Linda observed.

  “Ms. Mercer, how many books did you write under the pen name Ivy Deverell?”

  “Three.”

  “What years were they written?”

  “They were my first three novels. The first was published about fourteen years ago.”

  “And the last?”

  “Back then I wrote a book a year, so about eleven…maybe twelve years ago.”

  “There are a number of correspondences in your files that use a special letterhead with the initials ‘I.D.’ on them. We found some of this in your office.” Bradley placed a sheet of the unused stationery in front of Jessie.

  “And your question is, Detective Bradley?” Linda asked.

  “When was the last time you went by the initials ‘I.D.’?”

  “I guess about eleven years ago.”

  “When was the last time you used this stationery?”

/>   “About eleven years ago.”

  “Then why do you still have it around?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe one day I’ll return to writing by the pseudonym Ivy Deverell.”

  “You are aware that Taylor Andrews has been harassed by an individual with the initials ‘I.D.’”

  “I am.”

  “Have you seen any of the letters from the perpetrator?”

  “I’ve seen some.”

  “Are you the perpetrator, Ms. Mercer?”

  “No.”

  “July 10th was the day someone broke into Ms. Andrews’s Malibu home. On that afternoon, a white Ford Taurus was seen at the security gate of her house. The witness says the car was driven by a woman.” Bradley referred to his notes. “He said she stopped at the security gate, punched in a password, the gate opened and the car drove through the gate. The witness said this happened around four that afternoon.”

  “And your question, Detective Bradley?” Linda asked.

  The detective laid down a group of papers on the table. Jessie recognized the documents; inside her heartbeat hastened, outside she remained cool. “This is paperwork regarding the repair on your Lexus. It appears that you rented a loaner while your Lexus was being repaired.” The detective pointed to the rental document. “You rented a Taurus. It was white, also. Why did you lie when you were questioned earlier about being at the property that afternoon?”

  Jessie remained silent.

  “Contrary to what you told us earlier, Ms. Mercer, you did go to Ms. Andrews’s property that afternoon, didn’t you?”

  “I would like to confer with my attorney before I answer that,” Jessie said.

  One of Bradley’s eyebrows twitched. “Let me ask you a couple other questions, then I’ll leave you with your attorney.” Bradley placed a merchant copy of a credit card imprint on the table. Jessie recognized the receipt for the flowers she bought Taylor that afternoon.

  “This is a receipt for flowers you purchased at Rollins Florist at 3:39 the same afternoon. Although the receipt doesn’t say what kind of flowers you purchased, Betty Rollins was quite certain they were white roses. She says that’s what you always purchased.”

  Linda didn’t understand the implication of the white roses, but recognized Jessie’s subtle sign of irritation; her jaw tightened. “Ms. Mercer is going to confer with me on that before she responds, Detective Bradley. Is there anything else?”

  Bradley sighed and held up a document. “This is one of the letters from the perpetrator, ‘I.D.,’ that was sent to Taylor Andrews.” He laid it next to the stationery from Jessie’s office. It was clear that the letter was written on Jessie’s stationery.

  Jessie’s heart beat wildly when she saw the evidence. She closed her eyes. It’s happening, she thought sadly.

  “Is there anything else, Detective?” Linda asked.

  The detective placed a file folder on the desk. Jessie recognized her handwriting on the label, “Peanut Allergies.” “We found this folder on peanut allergies in your office. Can you explain your interest in this area?”

  Jessie remained silent.

  “Ms. Mercer, we have sufficient evidence that supports that you are Taylor Andrews’s harasser. We can put you at the house the afternoon of the incident. We have evidence showing you purchased the white roses that were used to vandalize the property. We have numerous harassment letters written on your stationery. But what we’re not clear on is how and why?”

  “How and why what, Detective?” Linda asked.

  “Why did you murder Kurk Warner? Was it jealousy?”

  “Time out,” Linda said. “I missed something. How did you go from harassment letters to murder?”

  Bradley laid the last letter on the table. “Ms. Speller, this note was left at the house the night of the incident.”

  Linda read the letter. “Is my client under arrest?”

  “That depends on how she responds to all the unanswered questions.”

  “Is that all you have?”

  “For now.” Bradley stood and Roth followed. “How much time do you need with your client, counselor?”

  “I’ll let you know when she’s prepared to address these issues.”

  It was close to three o’clock when Linda told Detective Bradley and Roth that they were prepared. Jessie and Linda had spent close to four hours locked in the small room preparing a statement.

  “My client is ready. Please let her make her statement without interruption,” Linda instructed.

  Roth and Bradley took their seats. Jessie sat with notes laid out on the table in front of her.

  “I did go to Taylor’s house the afternoon in question,” Jessie admitted. “I also brought with me white roses, because they’re Taylor’s favorite. We hadn’t seen each other in four days and I wanted to make her homecoming special. I put the roses in a vase on the dresser in the bedroom. It was about 4:20 when I left, and everything at the house seemed normal. I lied that night, because I was scared. When I saw the flower petals spread over the stairs and then the flowers tossed on the bed, I realized that they were the flowers I had bought.

  “The note found at the house implied that Kurk was murdered so that the harasser could be with Taylor. I became scared because I had Taylor. Somehow, I knew then that I would be a prime suspect.

  “I can’t explain how my stationery was used for the harassment notes. Only…give me some credit. If I did this, do you think I’d be that stupid?

  “Finally, I started doing research on peanut allergies after Kurk was murdered. I was trying to understand peanut allergies, anaphylaxis…I wanted to understand how Kurk could have come across peanuts that night.”

  Both Linda and Jessie waited for a response from Bradley.

  “And that’s it?” Bradley asked.

  “I believe we have addressed all your questions,” Linda stated flatly.

  “You spent four hours locked in this room and that’s the best you can do?”

  “Detective Bradley, this afternoon we have been in telephone conference with an associate of mine, perhaps you have heard of him, Lyle Fallon. Lyle specializes in criminal defense. I do not practice in this area, but, as a favor to Ms. Mercer, I sat in on her interrogation. Mr. Fallon will be taking over Ms. Mercer’s representation. Much of our time this afternoon was needed to bring Mr. Fallon up to speed on this complicated case. Both Lyle and I agree that you have insufficient evidence to arrest Ms. Mercer. We have spent way too much time here and I ask you now to either read Ms. Mercer her Miranda rights or terminate this interview.”

  Bradley stared intently at Linda. “I have one final question.”

  “And then Ms. Mercer and I are leaving,” Linda said.

  “Maybe. It depends on how she answers the question. Ms. Mercer, did you kill Kurk Warner?”

  Jessie hesitated before she answered. She looked at both detectives then Linda. “No. I did not kill Kurk Warner.” Jessie saw relief in Linda’s eyes.

  Linda stood and pulled her notes together, not giving Bradley time to object. Just as Linda and Jessie were ready to leave, Detective Bradley said, “Ms. Mercer, don’t plan on traveling until this is all sorted out.”

  Once outside, Jessie felt better. The women walked to their cars, and as they reached Jessie’s Lexus, Linda stopped. She handed Jessie a business card. “Here’s Lyle’s card. Your appointment is at eight o’clock, Monday morning. Don’t miss it, Jess.”

  “Thanks, Linda, for everything,” she hugged her friend.

  “Can I offer you some words of advice?”

  Jessie nodded.

  “I know you, Jessie. I know you’re not telling me everything. There’s a cloud of suspicion that surrounds you. You’re going to keep drawing attention to yourself if you don’t dispel this cloud. You need to think of yourself right now. Don’t miss your meeting with Fallon.”

  Chapter 26

  Once in her Lexus, Jessie pulled out her phone. Her desperation to speak with Taylor had amplified. She called Taylor’s h
ouse and mobile, but there was no answer. Then she called Mark’s cell and his voicemail answered. At Mark’s office, Theresa answered the phone. “Rutledge Management.”

  “Hi, Theresa, is Mark in?”

  “No, he’s left for his vacation, Jessie.”

  “Well, maybe you can help me. I’m trying to reach Taylor and there’s no answer at her house or mobile.”

  Theresa hesitated. “Jessie, I’ve been asked not to tell anyone where they went.”

  “They’re together? Thank you, Theresa. I won’t bother you again.”

  “No worries.”

  “Taylor went rafting with Mark?” Jessie mumbled. She knew that Mark planned the rafting trip at Travis’s recommendation. She was ten blocks from Travis’s office. Maybe Travis can tell me the name of the rafting company. She started her car and pulled out of the parking lot.

  It was a little after five when Jessie arrived at Travis’s office. Alison was just leaving the office suite and was locking the door when Jessie got off the elevator. “Hi, Alison. I need to talk with Travis. Is he here?”

  Alison smiled when she saw Jessie. “Hi, Jessie. No. Travis is out of town.” Alison studied Jessie. She knew something was wrong. “Are you okay?”

  “It’s really important that I speak with him. Do you know where he is?”

  “Yeah.” Alison just stared back at Jessie, smiling.

  “Would you share that with me?”

  “I’m heading over to Station’s for happy hour. You look like you need a drink. Join me and I’ll tell you.”

  Jessie was in no mood to go to the gay bar, but the thought of a drink sounded good. As she was driving to the bar, she noticed a car following her. She knew she was being tailed and surmised it was the police. Jessie found a parking spot a block from the bar. She noticed the car that had followed her had parallel parked across the street.

  As she entered the bar, she saw Alison waving to her from a corner table. Jessie joined her. Alison had already ordered appetizers and they were on the table. Two beers sat on the table.

  “I hope you don’t mind. I took the liberty of ordering you a beer.”