by Milly Taiden
Nina’s face blossomed red. Alex knew what that meant. She said, “Well, Ted. It’s been nice talking to you. We gotta go now.” Nina was walking away before Alex even finished the sentence. She grabbed her purse and turned, but a hand held her arm. She looked back to see Ted’s eyes locked on her.
“Next time, don’t bring her. Just you. She talks too damn much.”
Alex gently extricated her arm from his gripping fingers. “I don’t think there will be a next time. Have a good day.” She gave him a fake smile and hurried after Nina.
29
Alex sat in her car at a red stoplight down the street from the bar pondering the crazy meeting with Jen’s husband. Alex firmly believed that Jen leaving Ted had been a good thing. The man was obsessed with sex. More than the usual male obsession in that his deviance may hint on cruel and hurtful.
Poor Jen. No wonder the woman was so messed up. Andrew must’ve been a light in her dark world. He was someone she could cling to for safety, for compassion.
Her eyes glanced a rental car business along the street. The place was big with a fenced-in lot in the back filled with vehicles. She needed to get a rental for Andrew until his truck was fixed or he bought a new one. Since he was under house arrest, he wouldn’t be going out to test drive anytime soon. She need to ask him what he wanted to rent.
She dialed Andrew’s cell phone wondering how it was going with his lawyer this morning. The arraignment this afternoon worried her, though she didn’t know why. Andrew was innocent of any wrongdoing. What evidence physically linked him to the scene?
“Hey, sweetheart,” he answered. “How was the funeral?”
“Strange is one descriptor,” she said. “Have you met Jen’s husband?”
“No. She seldom mentioned him around the office. Whenever I asked, she became fidgety and irritable. I figured whatever problems they were having was none of my business. I never saw bruises on her, so I kept out of it.”
“That was wise,” Alex replied, thinking about what Ted said about spying on his wife at her new job. “How’s it going with your attorney?” When Andrew didn’t answer, fear shot through her. “Andrew, you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here, babe.” He sighed. “Turner got ahold of the police report and what they plan for official charges.”
Another bout of his silence had her pulling at her hair. “Andrew, tell me, what the hell is happening? You’re innocent.”
“I know, but when you look at what they have...it doesn’t look good.”
“What do they have?” she asked, feeling panic swell in her chest.
“I admitted I was at the state park—”
“With me and Nina,” she cut in.
“There’s more. The detective spoke with the park ranger who was at the cabin after your boss’s death.”
“Oh no,” Alex said. That whole mess would only complicate things.
“Oh no is right,” Andrew replied. “The police have the motive I wanted her dead so she wouldn’t come between us or threaten you again.”
“Isn’t that self-defense then?”
“Apparently not. Since Jen wasn’t posing a threat while driving away, self-defense doesn’t apply.”
“That is such garbage,” she replied. “What evidence do they have?”
“All circumstantial, but damning,” he answered. “When I called 911, I was within a mile of the accident and within minutes of the wreck being reported. The person who called in said a black Suburban was chasing a car, then rammed it from behind and kept going when the car crashed. Didn’t help that one of the rangers remembered seeing my license plate and damage to my black Suburban at the scene.”
“That’s not proof of anything,” she nearly hollered into the phone.
“They are putting in charges for second degree murder.”
Now she did scream. “What?! That’s insane!” Her stomach roiled, wanting to vomit. Her hands shook. This was all her fault. If she hadn’t gone to the cabin... No. No matter where she was, Jen could’ve approached. Luckily, Andrew was there to trick her into giving up the gun and leaving.
“I know, sweetheart. Turner is planning the defense. Don’t worry.”
Don’t worry. Right. Like that was remotely possible. Shit! She had to do something. Now she was too nervous to go home and wait all afternoon for the judge’s verdict. The evidence was completely bogus. There was no physical proof Andrew did anything.
She needed to see the accident scene. There had to be something the police were missing. Some minute clue they didn’t get.
When the light turned green, Alex did a U-turn. It was time to take a short jaunt back to the state park.
“You on your way home?” Andrew asked.
Damn, what was she going to say? If she told him her plans, would he rant and rave for her to stay home where it was safe? Yes. He might even come after her, disobeying house arrest and getting in real trouble. But if his lawyer was with him, then it was legal, but still...
“I’ve got some errands to run then plan on coming to your place for a while,” she answered.
“That sounds great. I’ll need you after this craziness is over.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
During the drive north to the park, Alex couldn’t help but let her anger rise at the unfairness of this case. Andrew saved her from death, and in return, he was arrested for murder.
Knowing what highway the accident occurred on, but not knowing exactly where, it took her a few extra minutes to find it. There were no skid marks on the road, so whoever was after Jen hadn’t stopped one bit when they slammed into her.
At the bottom of the embankment were several trees with burn marks stretched up their sides.
Alex pulled off to the side of the road on the opposite side and walked across the two lanes. Pieces of plastic, glass, and car fender lay on the rocky shoulder. A few feet farther back on the shoulder were larger parts of the headlight housing. A scratch of blue paint marred one of the fragments.
She collected all the headlight fragments and put them in her pocket. Maybe they would help, maybe not. The sky darkened, and she heard thunder rolling in the distance. Her time cut short, she climbed back into her car and continued up the road to a turn off that would take her south.
As she entered a section of road bordered by thick trees, she saw long skid marks, then something glass or plastic shined in her eyes on the road side.
Pulling over again, Alex looked both ways and ran across the road. Lying in the small rocks were more small pieces of a broken headlight cover. Could this be where Andrew hit the animal? As she studied the larger sections, she noted what could be blood and maybe fur stuck to the edges.
She took pictures with her phone then tucked the shards into her other coat pocket. Back in the car, she rang Detective Hudson at the police department. When he answered, she delved into the deep end.
“Detective Hudson, my name is Alexandra Berte. Andrew Carter’s girlfriend.”
“What can I do for you, Miss Berte?”
“Did you or anyone look into Andrew’s claim that he hit an animal with his truck? Did you look for evidence of his innocence or have you made up your mind that he’s guilty?” She tried her best to keep from being snarky, but she failed. Epically.
“Miss Berte, Mr. Carter said he didn’t know where he hit the animal. It was dark and he was unfamiliar with the area.” That excuse wasn’t good enough for her. If they were prosecuting Andrew with a possible sentence of life in prison, they’d better have damn good evidence.
“Detective, I sent you pictures of what I believe is Andrew’s location. He said he was close to the wreck scene. So I know these marks have to be his accident.”
“Have to be? Your evidence seems as solid as ours at the moment.”
Alex wanted to scream at the jerk’s face. Instead, she took a deep breath, thinking back to earlier. “Detective, have you investigated Jen Ortiz’s husband, Ted?”
“Miss Berte, I’m not able to share the
facts—”
“Okay, I get it. Did his alibi hold?”
“Yes, it did. All his neighbors saw his car at his house all night long.”
He drove a car. Damn. The person who chased Jen was in a black Suburban. It couldn’t have been Ted then. “Maybe keep an eye on him anyway.”
“Why do you say that, Miss Berte? I’m sure he isn’t going anywhere.”
“That’s not what he told me,” she replied.
“What do you mean? When did you talk to him?” The detective’s voice sounded interested now.
“After Jen’s memorial service a few hours ago. He said he was leaving as soon as the life insurance check cleared the bank.”
“He said there is no life insurance,” Hudson said.
“That’s not what he told me,” she answered. “And he stalked her. Didn’t mention that either, did he?”
“He claimed to not know where she lived or worked after their divorce.”
Alex grunted. “He’s lying to one of us, Detective. And I bet it’s not to me.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “I’ll talk with him tomorrow.”
“That’s too late. Call him now,” she urged.
“Miss Berte, I have a lot more going on than just an obscure murder where the suspect has overwhelming proof against him.”
“Overwhelming? Seriously?” she spit out. “Not one thing you have is physical or solid.”
“The person who made the 911 call said a black SUV had hit Mrs. Ortiz’s car. Your boyfriend’s vehicle fits that description, plus front end damage—”
“He hit a moose!”
“So he says,” the detective shot back. Alex pulled to the side of the road. She could no longer concentrate on driving with thoughts of wanting to kick the detective’s ass into next week. “Miss Berte, I suggest you stay away from Mr. Ortiz until I have the opportunity to speak with him again. You could end up hurting your boyfriend’s case. You don’t want that.”
She wanted to say No shit, Sherlock, but kept it to herself.
“Go home, Miss Berte. Support your boyfriend. He’ll need all he can get.”
30
Alex slammed shut her apartment door. She still fumed over the conversation with Hudson. After emptying her coat’s pockets of the glass pieces she picked up along the road, she hung it up and paced.
She dialed Andrew’s number, hoping the arraignment was over and he was on his way home. She sat at the table and stared at the wreckage while she waited for him to answer. Just by looking at the two separate piles, it was easy to tell the headlight covers belonged to different vehicles.
One had flawless plastic, like brand-new while the other was weathered, definitely not new.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Andrew whispered. He sounded tired.
“Why are you whispering?” she asked.
“We’re outside the courtroom, but it could be hours yet. Depending on how the cases before us go.”
“Is your lawyer feeling good about it?”
After a pause, he said, “They’ve added a few more charges—”
Fear stuck in her throat. “Like what?”
“On top of second degree murder, there’s failure to stop and render aid, reckless driving, a hit and run charge, leaving the scene of an accident—”
“Okay, enough.” She could take any more of this BS. She was about to throw up the non-existent food remaining in her stomach. But he was innocent, so she had nothing to worry about.
“I don’t want to scare you, babe, but you need to be ready,” he continued.
“For what?” her voice squeaked. Her heart raced, losing its steady pace. Could people in their twenties die from heart attacks?
“It’s possible I won’t be coming home after this.”
She sprang from her chair. “You didn’t do anything!” Her head started to spin. She put a hand against the wall to keep from falling.
“I know. It’s okay. Turner is doing all he can.”
“How long can they keep you?” Inhaling slow, deep breaths, she returned to her chair before her legs gave out.
“Could be until the trial.” That told her nothing.
“How long, Andrew?” It was becoming too hard for her to speak. Andrew going to jail was a joke. He was one of the most upstanding people she’d ever met.
“Months,” he replied.
“No.” She slammed her hand on the table, making the mangled glass pieces jump and move. “I won’t accept that.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I won’t.”
“It’ll be okay, baby. I promise. You can see me every day, Turner says.”
Alex wiped at her wet eyes. Trying to be positive, she said, “Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about renting a car for you then.”
Andrew laughed lightly. “Nah, it’s time to buy something new. But it would be fun to rent a high-end sports car to show you off around town, racing between streetlights.”
She pictured him in a hotrod. “I’d never recognize you in one of those. I’ve only ever seen you in the SUV.”
“I wouldn’t recognize myself either. I’m getting too old for that kind of thing. I’m thinking more along the lines of a family car. What do you think?”
“But, Andrew, you don’t have a family,” she said.
“Maybe not yet. But I’m hoping soon.”
Alex stopped breathing. She finally caught on to what he was saying. Tears streamed faster. “Andrew, are you asking—”
“Let’s see how this goes today, sweetheart. Maybe we’ll go shopping this week.”
For a ring! she thought but didn’t say. She slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming hallelujah to the world.
“Listen, baby, I should get back with Turner. There are two more cases before ours. They could go quickly, or we may be postponed until tomorrow if it gets too late.”
“Will you come home tonight, then?”
“I’m not sure. But be ready for my call, okay?” he said.
“I’ll pick you up immediately, no matter what time. I love you, Andrew.”
“I love you. We’ll talk later.”
Alex laid the phone on the table and buried her face in her hands. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t right. An innocent man shouldn’t have to spend time in jail. She smashed her hand down on the table again, making everything on it shift.
Her eyes skimmed the fragments and she noted how some of the older pieces looked to fit together. Scooting around shards, she turned them around, searching for a matching break line.
When they didn’t line up, she realized she wasn’t working with a flat puzzle, but a 3D-shaped object. She jumped up and searched the kitchen for clear tape, emptying the junk drawer on the counter. Finding a half-used dispenser, she hurried back.
Thinking about a bubble, Alex taped the larger pieces together on both sets. Even though holes remained throughout, a majority of the casing was there on the worn version. The new-looking pieces were too broken up to get an image, but the chunks, especially the one with the blue streak, didn’t match the curve of the other at all.
Not only were the vehicles different age-wise, but style-wise. So, which set belonged to the Suburban and what did the other set belong to?
Alex sat back and rubbed her eyes. They were feeling dry from the tears recently shed. The image of Andrew in a cherry-red Corvette popped into her mind. She laughed at the silliness. He was such a big guy, and in a small two-seater, the car would look like it was ready to pop seams.
He was right when he said nobody would recognize him. But that was the purpose of renting sometimes. When you wanted to step out of your life and try something new for a short time. Or to hide if you didn’t want others to see you.
A thought came into her mind. Could it be that simple? She picked up her phone and googled car rentals close to Tony’s Bar and Grill. Nina said that Ted probably frequented the bar since his and Jen’s house was down the street. The address for the place next to the stoplight popped up. She tapped the gree
n phone icon.
“Rennie’s Rental. We guarantee you the ride of your life. This is Natalie. How can I help you rent a car today?”
Quite a mouthful, Alex thought. “Uh, hi. I was wondering if you had any Suburbans come back damaged lately?”
“We don’t rent Suburbans, ma’am. Our biggest is a Tahoe,” the lady said.
A Tahoe and Suburban looked a lot alike, especially at night when driving fast. Maybe the casing belonged to a Tahoe. “Okay, has a damaged Tahoe been turned in?”
“May I ask why you are inquiring?” Natalie asked. “We don’t usually give out that kind of information.”
Well, shit. Alex wanted to kick herself for not preparing better. What would be the right answer? If she said she was in a wreck involving a black Tahoe, they’d probably think she wanted to file a lawsuit against them. If she said she was just curious, the woman would hang up on her as a prank call.
Alex sighed. “To make a long story short, I think my husband Ted Ortiz wrecked his rental and I need to know if he purchased the insurance with your company or if we need to call our provider. Is there any way you can just tell me if he got the insurance with the car?”
“Just a moment, ma’am.” Alex heard typing coming through the line. “Ma’am, what is your husband’s name again?”
“Ted Ortiz. He returned it Sunday,” Alex guessed. Another pause and more typing.
“Yes, ma’am, he did purchase the insurance. You have nothing to worry about,” Natalie replied.
“Thank you so much.” Alex hung up knowing she had to be right about this. Ted ran Jen off the road.
Her next call was to Detective Hudson.
When he answered, she spoke without hardly taking a breath. “Detective, Ted killed Jen, I know he did, he rented a Tahoe over the weekend, and it had front end damage—”
“Whoa, hold up there,” Hudson replied. “Who is this?”
Alex needed to get ahold of herself. “This is Alexandra Berte with Andrew Carter’s case.”
“Ah, Miss Berte,” he said. “What are you saying?”
“Ted Ortiz ran his wife off the road, killing her.”