“Excuse me?” I yanked my arm away. “With what proof? You don’t even have a motive.”
Through clenched teeth he responded, “Oldest motive in the world. He was cheating on her. She found out.”
“But John Vanderson was cheating on Trish’s mother with the very same woman, and I think Collin introduced them.”
“All the more reason for Trish to off the fiancé. And to silence her stepbrother. And, maybe it’s just a funny coincidence, but she was the last to see both victims alive.”
“She didn’t do it.” I offered weakly. Then, with renewed conviction added, “In her sedated condition, how could she have gotten Slater’s body to the park? And why?”
Corrigan’s phone pinged and he read the text. “Trish Vanderson’s car showed traces of blood in the trunk.” He rubbed his chin. “I’m not a gambling man, but I’d lay money that it’s Slater’s.”
I massaged my forehead. “You saw how zapped she was. Collin wasn’t exactly small. How did she get his body into her trunk?”
“She had help. Could’ve been her mother. God knows she had motive too.”
“Pure conjecture.” I wanted to shake the certainty out of him.
“You sound like her lawyer now. Abby and I have to get back to the station.” His hands balled into fists. “You and the Ranger can have your dinner without us.”
I clutched his arm. “Brian! It’s just information I want from him.”
He practically snarled, “From the way he’s been looking at you, he’s hoping for a lot more.”
Arguing with a grizzly bear would have made more sense. “Fine. But aside from Parker’s killer, you’re the only man I’m interested in. That’s why I’m wearing this ring. Okay?”
He grunted and I thought that’d be the extent of his acknowledgment. He proved me wrong. “You’re the best thing in my life, Claire, and I love you. I can’t help worrying when other guys clearly want you.” I didn’t even have time to melt before he grabbed my hand and we headed back toward Roger and Abby.
Abby’s eyes tracked Corrigan as he approached the table. She stood. He didn’t tell her they were leaving. He didn’t have to. They were on their own wavelength. I felt my insides turn rocklike as I watched them move as if she were a magnet and he, steel. The words of love Corrigan had said just a few minutes ago grew distant in my ears.
Jealousy must be contagious, having infected Corrigan and then, me.
Breaking the electrical field he and Abby formed, my fiancé once more marked my heart as his territory. “Claire, I’ll call you later tonight.” With a pointed glare at Roger, he added, “To make sure you’re all right.”
Even before the two detectives were out of sight, Roger rose and pulled the chair out for me. Once we were both seated again, he frowned. “I didn’t mean for this dinner to cause such a problem.” The corners of his mouth turned upward, but it was a bittersweet smile. “Guess Detective Corrigan knows how lucky he is.”
My face grew warm at the compliment. “Thank you. Still, what he did was entirely unnecessary. He should be apologizing to both of us.” Like that’ll happen.
I sat on the edge of the chair, knowing I shouldn’t stay. Trish and her mother needed me to find the killer. And quickly. But my belly protested against that move. It was looking forward to being fed. Besides, Roger had stood up for me. And, if I’m being honest, looking at him would surely help the food go down a lot easier. After we ate, I’d get the bit of information he’d used to lure me here. I sat back in my chair and picked up the menu. “So what looks good to you?”
His grin was flirtatious. “Besides you, I’m thinking the fettuccini.” He waved the waitress over.
Although we both claimed to be full, we agreed to split a slice of Oreo cheesecake. Mid-forkful, I coaxed him with, “This has been fun, but I agreed to get together with you because you had some information.”
After a sip of water, he began. “Right after you and your dog drove away with the Spam can, I spotted a woman looking around as if she’d lost something. She was bundled up and it was already getting dark, so I didn’t get a good look at her. I was still a ways away when I asked if I could help her. She just shook her head and hurried off. Maybe I should have followed her, but I got a call that some kids were fooling around by the stables so I had to go there.”
My stomach felt as if I’d swallowed the aforementioned shoe. No wonder Corrigan mentioned Mrs. Vanderson as being an accomplice. The mysterious park woman. “Anything at all you remember about her?”
He squinted and rubbed his chin. “She moved pretty fast, to tell you the truth.”
“Like a young woman?” Mrs. Vanderson was 53.
“Maybe.” He shook his head. “I can’t really say. Another thing. She had something on her head. A scarf, and it had women on it like from the 1930’s”
“You mean art deco style?”
“Again, maybe. I’m not really up on styles.”
“Could you tell what color it was?”
“Green and blue, I think. Or maybe purple. Tell you the truth, I couldn’t say.”
Knowing I wouldn’t get anything more, I dropped it and after a bit more polite talk, I rose to leave. “Thank you so much, Roger.”
Roger pushed back his chair. “It’s dark outside. Why don’t I walk you to your car?”
Concerned that if I allowed that, he’d try to kiss me goodnight, I politely declined. Instead, I departed Allissa’s alone and into my car, trying to clear my head.
Trish as murderer of two men? Her mother an accomplice? Or could Mrs. Vanderson be the actual killer?
It was already a little after eight. I hunched over in my car seat. What to do now?
I needn’t have wondered.
Mrs. Vanderson began by informing me I was the second call she’d made. The first was to Harold.
“They’ve charged Trish with Collin’s murder.” Her voice shook with a mixture of worry and outrage. “They’re talking as if they’re going to arrest me as her accomplice.” Any hint of vulnerability disappeared. “I demand you find the killer immediately.”
As if I hadn’t been trying up to that point. Struggling to maintain my professionalism, I swallowed my need to justify myself and asked her the question I needed her answer to before I could go on. “Mrs. Vanderson, were you in Rocky River Reservation any time this past week?”
She harrumphed. “Of course not. Why would I be?” She paused. “You can’t possibly be thinking my daughter and I dumped Collin’s body…” Her voice trailed off.
Choosing to take her outrage as the truth regarding her involvement in the murder, I switched direction. “Your husband seemed to know Collin well.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Before I could explain myself, she went on, “Excuse me? First you question my involvement, then my husband’s? You can’t possibly believe he had anything to do with Collin’s death.” She hissed, sounding like a snake whose territory was threatened. “John is many things, but a murderer? This is not what I’m paying you for.”
Arguing with her was impossible since she’d abruptly ended the call.
My phone rang again. Crinkling my nose as if I’d smelled soured milk, I answered. “Hello, Harold.”
He skipped any pleasantries. “I’m on my way to see Trish to try to get her released, but it’s not looking good. Any new developments you’ve learned and forgotten to tell me?”
After I filled him in on everything I knew and before he could hang up on me, I asked if he’d questioned either Mark Fenton or Jennifer Nelson yet.
“Fenton is a well-respected businessman. I’m sure he had nothing to do with the murders of either Parker or Collin.” His statement sounded like a recording.
“Isn’t your job to make sure Trish isn’t convicted of murder? Doesn’t that mean arming yourself with as much information as you can? You know, such as looking at anyone else who could be the killer, or is at least involved?”
I could almost hear the words forming i
n his head. “Claire, there’re things in this case that…Let’s just say, Mark Fenton may be a close friend to John Vanderson, but he isn’t part of any of this. Now I need to get back to my client.”
“What about Jennifer Nelson?” I was talking to myself. Harold was gone. I threw my phone down on the car seat. Was there some special not-so-secret secret I wasn’t supposed to know about? First Corrigan warned me to leave Mark Fenton out of this. Now Harold.
I had to learn what this was about. Snooping in Mark Fenton’s office might turn up something and that required Ed’s special skills.
Unfortunately, my call went directly to Ed’s voicemail. After asking him to call me ASAP, I started heading home, but took a detour. I couldn’t just sit and watch television while my client’s daughter and possibly my client herself were facing murder charges. Brandi and her place of employment, Night Shade, were only fifteen minutes away. If she was still there, maybe I could persuade her to share some pictures.
Chapter Sixteen
If dirty looks could kill, I would have keeled over the minute I stepped through the door at Night Shade. That large man who had earlier chased the waiter, Bill, back inside and away from me, didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat.
He flexed his muscles. “Thought you got the hint.”
I smiled uneasily. “I’m not good at hints. Plus, I need to talk to Brandi again.” My voice went Minnie Mouse. “Just for one minute.”
“Let her alone, Timmy.”
Timmy?
Brandi called me over. “You’re lucky we’re slow right now. Plus, I heard Parker’s sister, Ms. Fancy-Pants, got herself busted for a second murder. So what do you want?”
Though not quite understanding why she’d talk to me now when earlier that same evening she’d done everything she could to get rid of me, I wasn’t about to question her motives. “I understand you have a picture of the woman who was with John Vanderson. Could I see it?”
She snorted. “Not only that, you can even have copies.” With that, she took out her cell phone, asked for my number, and sent me a text. My phone responded a few seconds later. “You got the pictures. Now you can leave.”
“Sure, but first, why did you change your mind about helping me?”
She shrugged and grabbed a shot glass. “Maybe I don’t want any more customers to get killed.” With that, she turned her back to me and Timmy hustled me out of the place.
Back inside my car I opened the file to see the two pictures she’d sent. One showed John Vanderson and the other, Collin. The red hair of the woman hanging on the arm of each man made it easy to identify her. Jennifer Nelson.
Was she the key to everything? Confronting the woman myself was the best way to find out. Too bad it was past ten. Not exactly the time to start an interview. She’d be my first stop the next morning.
Although it was too late for visiting, it didn’t mean it was bedtime for me. Corrigan needed to see the company Jennifer kept. I forwarded the photos and then called him, keeping my fingers crossed he’d answer.
“What’s up, Claire?” He sounded exhausted.
“I just sent you two photos Parker Vanderson’s ex-girlfriend took. They’ll be of interest to you, I’m sure.” I went on to tell him the details.
“Got ‘em, but all they prove is that Trish had a motive to kill Collin. And we already established that she murdered her step-brother.”
“What? No! It means this Jennifer Nelson is the key. And for all we know, the reason Parker and Collin are dead.”
He blew out a breath from between his teeth. “I don’t know how you got from these pictures to there, but it’s not working. You should drop this Jennifer angle.”
“Why? Do you think I’m on to something?”
“No. It’s just a dead end. Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you in about an hour to make sure you’re home and tucked into bed.” He let loose with a low chuckle. “Wish I could join you.” Sounding as if he’d turned his mouth from the phone, I heard him say, “Be right there.”
Our call ended in my frustration. I pushed my short hair behind my ears and hoped some idea would swoop into my brain. Nothing came. Still, I had the strong feeling Jennifer Nelson was a major piece of the puzzle. The challenge was figuring out where that piece fit. Hoping I’d be able to do that with a fresh mind, I drove home for some down time before Corrigan called. They say solutions to problems come when you allow yourself to think of other things. Playing with Charlie after a walk could help. I knew he’d appreciate it.
My dog and I had just gotten back inside the apartment when Ed called. “Hey, sorry it’s so late but you said ASAP. What’s shakin’?”
I quickly glanced at the time. Perhaps half an hour before Corrigan would call, thinking he was tucking me in. “Ed, what are you doing at midnight?”
“Sounds like you’ve got something illegal on your mind.”
“Now that you mention it.” I gave him a quick rundown on current events. “I think we could find some valuable information in Fenton’s office.”
“Whew! That’d be a tough B&E to pull off. Too much security.”
I sank in my seat. “Do you have a better idea?”
“Maybe.” I could hear rustling papers. He murmured under his breath, “Yep, this might do it.” Then to me, “Their cleaning is done by Express Clean. The owner’s a buddy of mine who happens to owe me a favor.”
Thus I was further convinced Ed knew everyone in the Greater Cleveland area. “So what’s your plan?”
“We’re the cleaning crew Sunday night.”
My rising hopes slipped back into the ground. “Sunday? Tomorrow is Friday. People work on Friday. They make trash on Friday.”
“Yeah, but it ain’t taken care of ‘til Sunday night. That way, if anybody works the weekend, the cleaning people only have to come in once. Get it?”
With a frustrated sigh, I let him know I did.
“Sorry kiddo. But I’ll make the call and we’ll be set for Sunday.”
After our conversation, I sat on the sofa, tapping my hands against my thighs. Sunday meant two more days of getting nowhere in this case. I couldn’t let that happen. As I was attempting to formulate Plan B, Corrigan called.
It wasn’t the best conversation, since he sounded preoccupied and I felt thwarted. After what seemed like a perfunctory ‘love you’ from him, we hung up. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have fussed and worried about the conversation, instantly playing it over in my head. But this time, I filed it in the back of my brain, to think about at a later time. Right now I needed to concentrate on this case. If I didn’t solve it, I could become the PI who couldn’t. Maybe my fledging agency would never take off. A shudder ran through me. Parker’s murderer had to be found. And I had to be the one to find him. Or her.
***
My alarm had barely registered five in the morning when I dragged myself from bed, quickly showered, and made sure Charlie was taken care of. Grabbing a Pop-Tart and my coat and gloves, I headed out to confront Jennifer Nelson. With luck I’d get her at home, perhaps half-asleep and less guarded, willing to answer my questions. Yeah, and I’ll ride my unicorn there.
At that early hour traffic was light, raising my hopes of reaching the woman before she started her day. I reviewed in my mind what she’d told Ed; she’d known Collin since childhood, the introductions at the party, etc. My game plan was to confront her with the photos taken at Night Shade.
One hand on the steering wheel, I patted my pocket, making sure my gun was where it should be.
Turned out I didn’t need my gun at all. Cops were everywhere, clearly marking Jennifer Nelson’s house as a crime scene. It appeared somebody else got answers from Jennifer they didn’t like.
I parked my car on the next street over and walked toward the action as if I belonged there. “Sorry, Miss. You can’t go any farther.” A uniformed cop motioned toward a growing crowd. “Please stand back.”
As I took my place among the neighbors hastily dressed in ja
ckets thrown over pajamas, a shivering woman in the crowd turned to me and asked, “Do you know anything?”
“No. What’ve you heard?” Gossip was only a dim candle in the darkness, but it did throw some light.
“I bet Jennifer Nelson’s dead. I’m waiting to see if they bring out the body.” She sniffled. “You’re not a relative, are you? Or with the news?”
I shook my head. “Do you know who called the police?”
She shrugged. “They were already here when I came outside, about twenty minutes ago.” When she saw I had nothing to add to her knowledge, she wandered away and toward others.
My teeth began to chatter. Risking frostbite standing outside in the freezing morning was no way to conduct an investigation. As if to prove my point, it began to snow. Great.
I wiggled my toes to keep blood flowing to them and then wiggled my way toward the edge of the crowd. My only hope was to find a friendly source for information. No such luck. But when they finally loaded a covered body into the ambulance, a lock of radiant red hair spilled out of the body bag. There was no doubt the victim was Jennifer Nelson.
I’d almost given up hope of learning anything else when I spotted a detective escorting the second-most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen. The first now being taken away in a body bag. This very-much-alive woman was tall, with a figure reminiscent of Barbie, and dressed as if coming from an expensive restaurant. She was obviously shaken, alternately fiddling with her necklace and clutching her arms across her chest.
Had she found the body?
I wasn’t the only one who wondered. Reporters swarmed around her as the detective and a uniformed cop shielded the woman until she was whisked away in a police car.
The crowd must have taken her leaving as a sign that the show was over, and it began to disperse. Most of the media jumped in their vehicles and followed the police car, no doubt hoping to be the first to interview the witness.
One lone guy remained.
With nothing to lose, I approached him. “You’re not following the mob to get a statement?”
Murder and Mozzarella Page 10