“Let me know what you find out.” He turned back to his report reading and writing, which I took as a cue to get lost.
“Don’t I always let you know?” I mumbled under my breath as I wandered away.
“Hey, I heard that!” Bernie said.
I breezed by Theresa’s cubicle to let her know I’d check public records for information on Kelly’s parents’ house. She could’ve done it herself, but I figured I might as well.
Back at my desk, I reviewed the information we had so far. We hadn’t been able to nail down the date Vincent Frakes had left town or returned. According to Monica, he sometimes chartered flights, but she had no idea which company he used. We had a ballpark, though. The ME’s report put the cause of death as massive blood loss from a severed artery, and the time as a day or two before Jane Doe.
Interesting.
I found Kelly’s parents’ names, Carl and Linda Simon, and Kelly’s birth certificate through a public records search. Further research indicated they owned the house we’d visited, plus a cabin in the mountains at Big Bear Lake. My mind went off into another direction—I wondered if the parents were still alive. That was worth checking out. I spoke to Bernie and Theresa and suggested we visit the parents in person, just to be sure. Adult children had murdered their parents for a lot less than the deposit on a house.
Since Theresa was busy, Bernie and I took another ride out to Kelly Milton’s parents’ house. We rolled up to the house and parked at the curb. A car I hadn’t seen before was parked in the driveway. I jotted down its plate, make, and model. Then Bernie and I moseyed up to the door.
20
Bernie rang the doorbell, and the dogs went crazy. The open interior door gave us the pleasure of seeing them charge the screen door, baring their teeth at us.
I grinned and glanced at Bernie. “You scared?”
“Shaking in my shoes. Absolutely terrified.” He shuddered then looked at my cowgirl booties. “Better watch your ankles.”
Bernie laughed, which was good to see. It had been a while.
“Someone’s coming.” A small dark shadow moved through the house.
“May I help you?” An older, miniature Kelly with short blonde hair peered through the screen at us. She had to look up. She was even shorter than Khrystal.
We pressed our badges to the screen. The dogs started up again and scratched at the door.
“Down! Sit! No!”
They continued their antics, ignoring the diminutive woman.
“We’re Detectives Bernard and Valentine,” Bernie said.
“Oh! You’re the ones who’ve been helping the kids?” She reached for the latch. “They’re not here now, but you can come in and wait if you’d like. They should be back soon.”
Bernie and I stepped forward. He held the door open for me, and I entered first. The dogs sniffed my shoes. I couldn’t remember their names, if I’d ever known them at all.
“Are you Kelly’s mother?” I asked.
“I’m so sorry. Please excuse my manners. Yes, I’m Linda Simon.” She led us into the sunroom. “This is my husband, Carl.” She gestured toward the man sitting at the table. “Carl, these are the detectives handling Kelly and Jake’s case.”
He slid a center piece of a jigsaw puzzle of sailboats into place. She took a seat across the table from him. The dogs scampered to their beds in the corner, made little circles, and plopped down on the cushions.
Carl stood. Bald and not much taller than Linda, he reached out a callused, working-man’s hand to me. Brad’s weren’t quite as callused, but I imagine they would be at some point if he continued renovating houses.
He shook Bernie’s hand next. “Do you have an update for them? Pull up a chair.”
I grabbed the seat next to Linda, and Bernie sat at the head of the table.
“Actually, we’re here to see the two of you.” I scooted my chair closer to the table.
Linda tilted her head and frowned. “Us? Whatever for?” She glanced at her husband.
“What can we do to help?” Carl asked. “If we can help you find the conman who took the kids’ money, we will.”
“We appreciate that, sir,” Bernie said.
The Simons nodded.
Carl cleared his throat. “Well, as I said, we’re happy to help.” He looked at his wife. “Right, Linda?”
She nodded, the earlier cheerfulness gone. “Yes, of course. If we can.”
“How much do you know about their situation with the rental house?” Bernie asked.
“Well, they put down a large security deposit on it, or thought they did, and tried to move in,” Carl said.
“Okay. What else?” I said.
“They couldn’t gain access. Someone had died in there, so they came back here,” Linda said.
“It’s our understanding that they’re looking to rent again,” I said.
“That’s what they’ve told us. Linda and I told them they’re welcome to stay here for a while longer—to save money.”
“Do you know where they got the money for the first house?” Bernie asked.
“Oh, they saved up,” Linda said. “Kelly was so upset when they lost the money to that horrible conman.”
Carl glanced at her. “Yes, but she seemed to get over it pretty quickly.”
Linda nodded.
“Why do you think she recovered so fast?” I asked.
They shrugged.
“Any idea where they are getting the money for the next one?” I asked.
Another dual shrug. I glanced at Bernie, who raised his brows ever so slightly.
“Would you be able to help them out with the new deposit?” Bernie asked.
Carl shook his head. “We think they should do that themselves. Stand on their own two feet, so to speak.” Carl glanced at Linda.
She nodded. “We’ve given them a place to stay. Rent free. The rest is up to them.”
Carl straightened. “You have to understand. My wife and I have always worked hard. The kids are young and need to figure this out for themselves. It’s how they’ll learn, even if it means they’ll struggle for a while.”
Linda reached for her husband’s hand. “We didn’t have it easy when we were starting out. Nobody helped us.” She chuckled. “There were days when we ate plain oatmeal, the Quaker Oats kind, for every meal. It tasted bland, but it filled our bellies. We couldn’t even afford milk.”
“I remember. When you figured we could add a little brown sugar, it helped with the flavor some. We didn’t use much, because it was expensive.” Carl smiled and squeezed her hand. “We’ve paid for Kelly’s college education and gave them a place to stay when they needed it. We also paid for their wedding. That’s about all we can do,” Carl said. “They’ll be stronger for it. We certainly are.”
“Detectives, we had nothing when we got married. I got a job out of high school and worked as a waitress.” Linda’s eyes glistened. “My parents could have helped us, but they didn’t. My father didn’t agree with my choices and chose not to help. My mother went along with whatever he said.”
“And my parents didn’t have much. Bless their hearts for offering, though. You see, I’ve always worked with my hands. Learned from my father. I’ve done a lot of upgrades to this house, and it’s worth four times what we paid for it. I built this sunroom.”
Bernie and I looked around us at the light and bright room. The oak hardwood floors gleamed. Fresh-cut flowers in the corners added a touch of nature, making it a relaxing place to be without the overly floral scent permeating the air. A long bench with thick, yellow-and-white striped cushions ran along a stretch of wide windows overlooking the backyard. I could see myself reading in the white wicker rocking chair in the corner.
“I’m sorry. We don’t mean to preach, but it’s something we feel passionately about,” Linda said, smiling. “We tried to teach our daughter there’s nothing wrong with going without some things until you can afford them.”
I couldn’t argue with her logic and glanced at my watch
. “You said they’d be back soon. Any idea where they went?”
Linda’s gaze slid to Carl, then she shrugged. “I don’t. Do you, honey?”
“They said they’d be back before lunch.” He looked at the rooster wall clock. “It’s past that now, so no, I don’t know when they’ll be back or where they went. Those kids don’t tell me everything, and to be honest, I don’t want to know.”
I liked down-to-earth people, especially ones who got to the point.
Well, that settled it. Time to go. I shoved my chair back. “It was nice meeting you both.” I handed business cards to them as I shook their hands. I’d written Theresa’s name and number on the back of the cards, as well, and told the Simons they may be hearing from her.
Bernie said his goodbyes, and we took off.
As I buckled myself in, I turned to Bernie. “Any thoughts on that conversation?”
“As we suspected, Kelly and Jake lied about where they were getting the money to rent another house.”
“Yep. If her mom and dad were telling the truth—and I have no reason to believe they weren’t—the ‘kids’ aren’t getting any cash from them.”
Bernie put the car in gear and headed down the street. “Not that they were obligated to, but at least they paid for college.”
“And the wedding. Don’t forget that. How about lunch?”
“Let’s go to Denny’s.” He hung a right at the stop sign.
“Sure, I’m starving.” On the drive there, I updated Theresa on our conversation with the Simons, and she promised follow up with the Miltons on the money issue.
Bernie picked a parking space in the far corner of the Denny’s lot, and I spotted Jennifer Moore with a group of her cohorts. I thought of Kelly Milton and wondered how she felt about her parents’ lack of monetary assistance. I wouldn’t expect my parents to help me, but did Kelly? I believed she would. As an only child of parents who had the means to pay for college and a wedding, she might have also expected them to give her money for a place to live.
Jennifer rushed toward us as we crossed the lot on our way to the entrance. “Hey, Sydney Valentine!” She moved with a surprising amount of energy and grace, like a dancer. “Detective Valentine!” She waved at me and turned to Bernie and smiled. “Hello.”
Bernie returned the smile. “Hello, Jennifer.”
“How are you?” I asked.
She’d cleaned herself up some and had even applied a bit of makeup. What was that about?
“Good. Look, I’ve been thinking about that picture you showed me. The one of the dead girl?”
I pulled Jane Doe’s photo from my pocket. “This one?”
She took it from my grasp and pointed at the girl’s face. “It’s hard to tell, but she reminds me of a kid I used to see at my cousin’s house.” She handed the photo back.
“Who’s your cousin?” I had my notebook, ready to write.
Bernie had his out, too.
She held her hand out then looked at her buddies.
Oh, I see.
I took five dollars from my pocket and gave it to her. No point asking for a receipt.
She folded it and shoved it in her bra. “Kelly Miller.” She spun on her heel and took a few steps away from us.
“Whoa. Wait a minute.” I hurried after her, grabbing her skinny arm.
She jerked the arm away. “What? I gave you the name of my cousin. I don’t know her address or phone number.”
“Jennifer, are you sure that’s her name? It’s important.”
She narrowed her eyes, looked to the sky, and bit her bottom lip. “She got married a couple of years ago.”
“Do you mean Kelly Milton?” Bernie asked.
“Yes!” She jumped up and down, smiling. “That’s it! I haven’t seen her much since we were teenagers. The last time was when she got married.”
“What was her maiden name?” I asked, just to be sure we had the right one.
“Simon. Her initials were ‘KS’ before she got married. Like Kansas.”
“Right. How are you and Kelly cousins?” I asked.
“Our mothers are sisters. Sometimes, Aunt Linda used to babysit me when my parents were too busy. They were always too busy for me. Kelly and I had sleepovers a lot at her house. I don’t think she’s been to our house since she was five or six.” She laughed uneasily. “I used to wish my aunt and uncle were my parents.”
What the hell?
I hoped the surprise didn’t show on my face. “Have you seen your mom and dad since the last time I saw you?”
Scowling, she took a step back. “Why?”
“Just wondered.”
“They’re worried about you,” Bernie said.
She scoffed. “Yeah, right.”
“Why wouldn’t they be?” I asked.
“You don’t know them like I do. They’re worried about how it looks to their friends. You know, to have a kid who isn’t a college graduate—with a regular job.” She mocked her mother’s voice when she said the last part, and I found it eerily accurate.
“Jennifer, did you finish high school?”
“What do you think? I thought you talked to my parents. To my mom.”
“I did. She seemed worried.”
“I told you. It’s not about me. It’s about what other people think that matters to them, especially my mom. I wanted to be a performer. An actress, singer, and dancer. They wanted me to be a corporate puppet.”
“There are places you can go for help,” Bernie said.
“Don’t you think I know that?” She glanced at her group. “Is that it?” She held out her hand for more cash.
I shook my head. “Thanks, Jennifer. It helps.”
She shuffled over to her friends, the energetic prancing gone. We’d ruined her day with all of the talk of her parents. I felt a twinge of guilt concerning that.
We made our way into the restaurant and took our seats. Bernie ordered orange juice, sunny-side-up eggs, bacon, toast, and hash browns. I hesitated but got the blueberry pancakes—a ton of calories.
“Well? Cousins?” I dipped a fluffy pancake chunk in gooey blueberry compote, speared a berry, and popped it all in my mouth. Delicious.
“It’s a small world, isn’t it?” Bernie smeared a triangular toast slice in the runny yolk, swiping a clear trail on the plate. He bit the toast and swiped again. Although I tried not to watch, it was as if I were driving past an auto accident. I couldn’t help myself.
“While talking to Kelly or Jake, did you ever get the feeling they knew they were renting her aunt and uncle’s house?” I asked.
“Nope. Not at all. If Kelly hadn’t been there since kindergarten or first grade, she might not remember. I can’t remember places I’ve been from that long ago, even family members’ homes. What about her parents? They didn’t seem to know much regarding the transaction.”
“And didn’t want to know. They didn’t ask, either.”
We finished our meal, split the check, and rolled out of the lot. I pulled out my notebook to read my notes on the way back to the station. My cell phone rang, and I checked the caller ID.
Well, what do you know?
“It’s Mrs. Moore.”
“We should head over there anyway.”
I nodded then answered the phone. “Hello, Mrs. Moore. We were planning to give you a call or stop by.” Mrs. Moore told me she would be home in half an hour, and I set the meeting.
Bernie stopped at a red light and glanced at me as he drummed on the steering wheel to the beat of music in his head.
“Let’s go see her, I said.”
Bernie made a U-turn and headed toward the 10 East, on our way to Palm Springs. I hoped we might get more information on Jane Doe if Mrs. Moore took another look at the photo.
21
We pulled up to the curb outside the Moores’ home in Palm Springs. I hopped out of the car—and stepped into an oven. I hurried to the door and rang the bell. Mrs. Moore opened up before Bernie made it up the walkway. What the he
ck was he doing? I looked back to see him sliding his phone into his back pocket.
Oh, that.
“Come in, Detectives.” She ushered us in and shut the door on the heat.
We followed her into another room. A pitcher of iced tea and three glasses with lemon slices clinging to the rims sat on the table. Smoothing the front of a charcoal-colored skirt, she eased into a white chair upholstered in a fabric that resembled burlap. Bernie and I took the matching sofa.
She reached for the pitcher. “I know I’m parched. How about you?” She looked up as she poured. Although late in the afternoon, her crisp white top looked fresh, as if she’d just put it on.
“Yes, please.” Bernie set the recorder on the table.
“Me, too. Thank you,” I said.
Mrs. Moore handed us our tea and leaned back in the chair with hers, crossing her legs. Her ankles were so thin, I wondered why they didn’t snap when she walked. She had defined muscles in her calves, though. “Do you have news for me?” She peered over the rim of her glass as she sipped.
“We’d like you to take another look at the photo I showed you previously.” I handed her the photo of Jane Doe.
She held it as if something inappropriate covered it, something she hadn’t done when I showed it to her before. She shook her head then handed it back.
“Are you sure you don’t know her? Never saw her before?” I asked.
“I’m quite sure. What is this concerning?” Her brow wrinkled, and she set her glass down, uncrossing her legs.
“Do you have any other family members besides your husband and Jennifer?” Bernie asked.
“I have two sisters. My parents are deceased.” She frowned. “Why do you ask?”
“What are your sisters’ names?” I asked.
“May I ask what brought on this sudden interest in my family?” She gazed at us as she squeezed the juice of a lemon slice into her tea.
My phone vibrated inside my pocket. I removed it and glanced at the number. Monica Stewart. I let it go to voicemail.
“We’re still investigating, and we’ve recently been made aware of some issues,” I said.
“What type of—”
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