Mistaken Character

by R A Wallace

  He studied her with intelligent eyes. “I do.”

  “I didn’t forget.” She pointed to the name on the application. “Note that the name she used on her original application to the news channel several years ago doesn’t match with the name on the will.”

  Hamilton picked up both documents and compared them.

  “Troubling, that her middle initial doesn’t match. I’m not certain where you’re going with this, however.”

  “You’re certain that Crystal’s middle initial should be R?” Callie asked.

  “I am,” he said decisively. “I had it all checked out when a strange woman showed up on Spencer’s doorstep claiming to be a relative.”

  “Do you know what her parents’ names are?” Callie asked.

  “Of course. I researched it all quite carefully, I assure you.”

  Hamilton turned to a wall of filing cabinets in his office. He opened a drawer. After some rifling through the folders inside, he pulled one out and put it on his desk.

  “Here,” he said as he opened it and placed it on his desk next to the other documents. “Her father’s name was Stephen. Her mother’s name was Merry.”

  Callie pushed the application closer to him. “Check the spellings.”

  “They don’t match.” His intelligent eyes zeroed in on hers.

  “What are the chances that a daughter doesn’t know how to spell her parents’ names correctly?” Callie asked.

  “I don’t understand. How can this be? I interviewed her more than once when she first showed up. Her story matched with what I knew.” He sat down slowly in his chair.

  Callie sat on the other side of the desk.

  “Tell me what you knew,” she asked.

  He ran a hand over his face as he pulled his thoughts together.

  “Well, she was a young girl at the time. It happened when she was eleven. The Delaney family had gone camping. It was her father, her mother, and Crystal. There was a flash flood. The family was swept away as they slept in their tents. Crystal and her parents were in separate tents. The parents’ tent was more in the direct path of the flood apparently. At any rate, Crystal was ultimately saved. Her parents were not.”

  “You’re certain that’s what happened?” Callie asked.

  “Yes, of course. I have the news clipping in the folder.” Hamilton looked through the folder. He pulled out an old clipping and read it. He looked up at Callie quickly when he finished, the surprise evident in his eyes.

  “What it is?” She reached for the clipping.

  “The parents’ names were misspelled in the article,” he said. “It was written the day of the flood. Several others also died that day.”

  “It’s possible there was just too much confusion for them to get the details correct,” Callie said as she thought it through. “Of course, if I heard you say the name Merry, I would spell it M-A-R-Y. The other way isn’t a common spelling.”

  “The article does say that they were quoting a distraught young Crystal as she called for her parents,” he said.

  She read through the article and nodded. Other families were also torn apart that day.

  “The reporter who wrote the article was on the scene when it happened. They were camping in a nearby area. The situation was no doubt very chaotic.”

  Hamilton steepled his hands again. “Where does this leave us?”

  “Can I assume an autopsy was performed on Crystal?” she asked.

  “It was.”

  “What are the chances that her fingerprints are on file somewhere? Either from her employment at the television station or from the autopsy?” she asked.

  He nodded slowly. “Unless there’s a match in the system, the prints alone wouldn’t prove anything…”

  “It’s still worth checking,” Callie said. “One of those little details that might matter.”

  He gave her a wry smile. “Like a middle initial? Is it really possible that there’s another Crystal Delaney out there?”

  “I can check on that,” Callie said. “It’s also possible that the woman you knew as Crystal simply assumed the name but didn’t get all the facts straight.”

  “Or she checked the facts but they were wrong.” He glanced at the old article describing the flood.

  “Either way, we need to find the truth,” Callie said.

  “I’ll check on the fingerprint,” Hamilton said. “If nothing else, she lived with Spencer for years. Her fingerprint has to be somewhere in that house.”

  Callie looked at the copy of the will. “What will you do with that?”

  “I have to file it within the window of time. I’ll explain the extenuating circumstances to the judge and ask for more time.” He fastened his gaze on hers. “If Crystal, the real Crystal, is out there, you must find her.”

  ***

  Callie smiled when Ariana opened the door.

  “Hey, Sis.” It was a new nickname Callie decided to try on.

  Ariana laughed as she turned and led the way to the kitchen.

  “Callie, we haven’t seen you in a while,” Leslie said. “Can you stay for dinner?”

  “I would like that. What can I help with?” Callie asked as she looked around the kitchen. The table was already set and Ariana was getting out another place setting for her.

  “I think we have things under control,” Leslie said. “Unless you want to get the drinks.”

  “I can do that.” Callie crossed over to the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of sweet tea.

  “Ariana was just telling us about her teacher,” Leslie said as she carried a bowl of potato salad to the table. She set it next to the salad as Wade came in with a platter of meat.

  “Hey, sweetie.” Wade kissed the top of Callie’s head as he passed by her chair.

  “Blake said he had a study group to meet with,” Leslie said.

  Wade set the meat down and took his seat.

  “Ariana tells us that we have you to thank for getting her teacher back?” Wade reached for his glass of tea.

  “It was a team effort,” Callie said. “Sierra and Michael helped also.”

  “I got to watch the office while they went to the restaurant,” Ariana said as she reached for the salad.

  Callie paused as she reached for the potato salad. “You did?”

  Ariana froze. “Sierra and Michael suggested it.”

  “Well, good. Thanks. That was really helpful.” Callie took a spoonful of potato salad and passed the bowl to Leslie.

  Ariana transferred some salad to her plate and passed the bowl to Callie.

  “Is that something you wouldn’t mind doing more often?” Callie asked.

  “You mean, like a job?” Ariana looked surprised, but in a good way.

  “Yeah. Exactly like a job,” Callie said.

  Ariana looked over at her parents. Leslie looked at Wade.

  “She would be in the office, right?” Wade asked.

  Callie laughed. “Yes. Answering the phone. It would free the rest of us up.”

  “Sierra and Michael seemed to really like doing that kind of work. You know, going to the salad and sandwich shop to track down that woman,” Ariana said.

  “I got that impression also.” Callie speared some meat and put it on her plate.

  “And Michael bought the coolest workstation to do forensics stuff,” Ariana said.

  “Do you like that kind of stuff?” Leslie asked her.

  Ariana nodded as she cut the meat on her plate. “I signed up for a computer class at school. I’m hoping it will help me be ready for computer classes in college.”

  Leslie gave her husband a relieved smile.

  “That sounds great,” Leslie said.

  Wade grinned at her then turned to Ariana.

  “I think working with Callie to answer her phones sounds great, too.”

  “Really?” Ariana looked at everyone around the table then focused on Callie.

  “When can I start?” Ariana asked.

  Callie laughed. “Actually, t
his week would be good. Greyson and I may have to go out of town.”

  Wade looked up from his dinner plate.

  “About this Greyson,” he said. “What exactly do you know about him?”

  Not as much as she wanted to. “He’s been very helpful with several of my cases.”

  “What did he do before you met him?” he asked.

  She wondered the same thing. “His background is more in security.”

  Wade narrowed his eyes at her vague response.

  “What kind of a person is he?” he asked.

  Callie thought about Greyson’s recent apology after agreeing to help Rosemary, the mail carrier.

  “He can be flexible and he’s smart. When he knows he was wrong about something, he apologizes,” Callie said.

  “What are you planning to do about him?” Wade asked.

  “My business is thriving, Dad. It’s all because of him.”

  “You are that business,” he said.

  Callie took a deep breath. “I know that. I do. But he really has been useful. Not just with the cases that I have, but also with getting new jobs. Everyone who calls Indigo Investigations is looking for both of us.”

  Callie needed to change the subject.

  “I have those background checks you needed for the people who applied for your current job openings,” she said.

  “I’m glad you had the time to do them, thanks. I know how busy you’ve been.” Wade lifted the pitcher of sweet tea and refilled his glass.

  “Actually, Greyson ran some of the background checks,” Callie admitted. She shrugged when he looked at her.

  “How is the office renovation going?” Leslie said quickly.

  Callie flashed her a grateful smile.

  “They should be done soon. I can’t wait. It’s going to more than double our space,” Callie said. She decided not to mention Greyson’s role in that.

  “Will I have my own desk?” Ariana asked.

  Callie laughed again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  On Tuesday morning, Callie dragged her empty garbage can up her driveway then went over and got Ramona’s. It was a common event. The garbage truck came to their mobile home community twice each week. Ramona called her thanks out from her sunroom in the front of her house. It was a screened porch area where Ramona often enjoyed her morning coffee.

  Callie’s sunroom was in the rear of her house. It was one of the reasons she had picked the house. There were times when sitting in the back where people couldn’t see her was a welcome relief from the parade of residents that regularly walked past when taking their daily exercise. Often, those same people would stop to converse with anyone sitting in their sunroom as they passed by.

  Her next stop was the grocery store. Based on the information that Vanessa had provided, her alleged accident had occurred on a Tuesday afternoon. Callie walked in and made a beeline for one of the checkout lines. She recognized the man bagging groceries at the end of it.

  Ned had worked as a bagger at the store for as long as Callie could remember. He was probably somewhere in his sixties. He was a thin man with gray hair, glasses, and was around Callie’s height. He greeted her with his usual friendly smile.

  “Hey, Ned. Were you working on Tuesday last week?” Callie asked.

  “Of course. I work every day. During the week, that is. I work during the days. I don’t like being out at night.”

  Ned put a full bag of groceries in the cart next to him and pulled off a new bag. He immediately began filling it with the items coming down the conveyor belt toward him.

  “That’s good. Day turn means you’re home for dinner,” Callie said.

  “And my TV shows,” Ned agreed. “I like my TV shows.”

  “Did you happen to see an accident in the parking lot last week?” Callie asked.

  Ned never paused working. “I didn’t see it. I was outside helping someone, but I didn’t see it.”

  “Do you know of anyone who may have seen it?” Callie asked.

  “Tuesday.” Ned’s brows pulled together as he placed another bag into the cart.

  “That’s right. Do you remember anyone who shops on Tuesday?”

  “Mrs. Garibaldi. But she doesn’t always come on the same day. Sometimes she does.”

  Callie didn’t recognize the name. “Anyone else?”

  “Marvin. He’s an old guy, like me. He comes for the free samples.” Ned laughed. “He likes the free samples. He buys wine, too. He plays cards on Tuesday night with his friends. He buys the wine.”

  “That’s good, Ned. Any more names?”

  “No. No more names.” Ned lifted the last bag into the cart. “Can I help you out with this?”

  “Sure, thanks.” The woman finished paying for her groceries and tucked her card away. She turned to Callie.

  “I was here last Tuesday,” she said. “It was in the afternoon.”

  “You were? Did you happen to see anything in the parking lot?” Callie began walking out with them.

  “I didn’t actually see what happened. I knew that something did. I walked over a little way to see after it happened. There was a man with a bike on the ground next to a car.”

  Callie asked for her contact information and wrote it down. The woman’s name was Bonnie.

  “Did you see the car moving at all?” Callie asked her.

  “Yes. It was parked only a couple of cars down from me.” Bonnie pointed. “The man on the bike was coming toward us. That’s why I didn’t see him get hit. He was on the other side of the car at that point.”

  Callie envisioned it. As Vanessa pulled out of the parking spot, her car was between Bonnie and the bicycle.

  “The car wasn’t going fast or anything, though. I can’t imagine how the guy on the bike didn’t see it,” Bonnie said. “I mean, if you were riding a bike in a parking lot, you’d notice a large object in front of you, right?”

  Ned put the last grocery bag in Bonnie’s car and closed the hatch in the back. Callie thanked Bonnie for the information and began walking back into the store with Ned. He stopped to grab some of the carts to bring them inside the store.

  “There he is.” Ned pointed toward the back of the parking lot. “That’s Marvin.”

  Callie turned to watch a man in his sixties or seventies get out of a small white pickup truck. He began walking at a quick clip toward the front door of the store.

  “Excuse me,” Callie called as she stepped in front of him.

  “Well, hello there,” he said to her with a friendly smile. “Hello, Ned.”

  “It’s Tuesday. You’re here for your wine,” Ned said. “You’re early though. You usually come later.”

  “I am here early for my wine.” Marvin said as he patted Ned once on the back. “I like my free samples too.”

  Ned began pushing the carts in.

  “They’re good ones today.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Marvin said.

  “Do you mind if I ask you some questions?” Callie asked.

  Marvin paused to let Callie catch up to them. “Sure.”

  “Were you here last week when the accident occurred in the parking lot?” Callie asked.

  “Oh, sure. I was here in the afternoon last week, like Ned said.” Marvin pointed toward his truck. “I always park down at the end of the row. It gives me some exercise.”

  Given that Callie was having trouble keeping up with the man as he briskly walked into the store, she figured his exercise plan was working.

  “Can you tell me what you saw?” Callie asked.

  “Not much, I’m afraid. I had just walked past the driver’s car. I heard a shout and ran around to see how the guy was. He was on the ground with his bike.” Marvin grabbed a small basket from the stack at the front of the store.

  Callie asked him for his name and wrote it down.

  “You should check with the kid,” Marvin said as he began to walk away.

  “What kid?”

  “It looked like he videotaped it w
ith his phone,” Marvin said.

  Callie caught up with him again and wrote down a description of the kid. When she was done, she returned to the front of the store. She found Ned packing more groceries at the end of a checkout line.

  “If you see Mrs. Garibaldi, let me know. Okay, Ned?” Callie said. “I’ll be over at the office asking them about the store video.”

  Callie left Ned and checked in at the office. She explained her situation, presented her credentials, and gave the time of the incident. Callie wrote down the store manager’s name in her notes, Donna Benedetti.

  “Because the incident happened on our property, we took down some information,” Donna said. “The guy on the bike identified himself as Robby Prince.”

  “Do you have any video of the incident?” Callie wrote down Robby’s name.

  “Yes, but I don’t think it will help you. The angle of the camera didn’t catch the actual incident.” Donna folded her arms and sat back in her seat.

  Callie noticed the woman’s direct gaze. “Any chance the guy on the bike might have known that?”

  Donna shrugged. “No way to prove it.”

  “But you’re saying it was pretty convenient?” Callie guessed.

  “The cameras on the front of the store building aren’t the only ones in the lot. There are also some on the poles in the lot to get different angles,” Donna explained. “Yet, none of the videos of that incident give you the angle you need.”

  “Pretty bad luck of the driver to have a blind spot like that in your surveillance system.”

  “Exactly,” Donna agreed as she finished making a copy of the video segment in question. “Please let me know how your investigation goes. I’d like to document it in my records.”

  “Will do,” Callie said after thanking her.

  “You shouldn’t have any trouble tracking the guy on the bike down,” Donna said. “He’s always riding around town.”

  ***

  Although not a sprawling metropolis, Pomelo Cove was a sizable town that included parks, trails, and a lot of streets. To say that someone is always around doesn’t necessarily make them easy to find. Callie contemplated the best areas to search in and checked them out. She didn’t catch sight of anyone matching the description given to her.

  As she drove through the main area of town that had a lot of shops, diners, and restaurants, she decided to stop and pick something up at the bakery. She doubted that she was going to be lucky enough to run into Robbie Prince by simply driving around. What she could do instead was pick up some cookies and bring them to the office. Maybe it would temporarily make the renovation noise less stressful.