She spun on her heels to gaze at the clearing where earlier that day a mysterious man stood staring.
Why? What reason did he have to do it? What did he want?
Thankfully, the area was barren now. She surveyed the perimeter of the parking lot and clearing. No one was around. Her sixth sense was no doubt off kilter.
But her sleuthing senses weren’t. She noticed a surveillance camera near the motel office. At the angle it rested on a high post, most of the parking lot and the clearing could be viewed, she guessed.
They’d installed the camera apparently to see when a customer arrived.
With the intent of appeasing her curiosity, she rolled up the sleeves of her silk blouse and marched to the motel office to speak to the front desk clerk.
The employee on duty today was a young female with the bottom of her head shaved. A thick mass of straight bleach blonde hair cascaded loosely over the top of her head like a shaggy carpet. She had a gold piercing in her ear and another in her lower lip. A tiny tattoo of a blue butterfly occupied the left side of her cheek. It complemented the cerulean blue of her eyes and softened her features.
She was quite pretty. Jessica guessed she was in her early twenties.
Jessica gave her the most charming grin she could muster hoping it would persuade the clerk into cooperating. “Hi there.”
“Hi, ma’am,” the clerk responded with a side grin. “Would you like to rent a room?”
Jessica’s right eye twitched for an instant at the mention of “ma’am”. Whenever she heard that word, the image of an elderly grandmother would come to mind. That certainly wasn’t her. Ordinarily she would correct the person, but today she let it slide. There were pressing matters to address.
“Um, no. I already have a room. Actually, I noticed you have a surveillance camera outside. It is a live feed of is it taped?”
The clerk frowned at the odd question, but still answered, “No, it’s both. We tape it just in case there is a robbery.”
Jessica’s phone vibrated. It was Eric texting her how much longer would she be.
She quickly texted back that she was already back and at the front desk. He should meet her here.
By the time she finished texting and then reached for her FBI credentials in her purse, the door swung open. Eric panted as he scanned the area for any danger.
“What is it?” he asked between heaves.
“That’s fast.” She said to her brother, then addressed the clerk, flashing her ID. “I’m Agent Firth. Would it be possible to see the footage from earlier today?”
Panic enveloped the girl’s features. “I don’t know. Don’t you need a search warrant for that?”
Jessica peered at Eric, who replied showing her his badge, “Yes, we would need one if you don’t want to cooperate. Is that the case?”
She shrugged. “It’s not my call to make. It would be the motel owner.”
“Can you please call him and ask?” Jessica’s voice was calm, inviting.
“Sure. It’s a she by the way.” The clerk picked up the cordless phone on the desk. She pressed a speed dial button and began to talk, glancing and pointing at Eric and Jessica as if whoever she spoke to could see her gestures.
“I bet the owner says no,” Eric whispered from the side of his mouth while he observed the clerk.
“I think the owner will say yes,” Jessica countered.
The conversation lasted several minutes, but when it ended, the clerk turned around wearing a wide smile. “My boss says she doesn’t mind you watching the tape as long as I’m present when you do it.”
Pressing her open palms on the marble counter before her, Jessica answered, “that would be great. Thank you.”
The clerk jerked her head toward a side door. “Don’t thank me. It’s the boss you have to thank later. Come with me to the back.”
They followed her to a narrow darkly lit room. There were no windows in this room. Only a tiny desk and chair furnished it. Two monitors rested on the desk. Under it was a big tower. The clerk sat at the desk and clicked the camera icon on the left screen.
A folder with hourly files opened on the right screen. She peered up at Eric who stood beside her. “Which hour would you like to review?”
Eric looked to Jessica to answer. “Eleven o’clock,” she said.
The clerk began to play the camera’s surveillance footage. There was no activity for most of the video, which discouraged Jessica. But soon a car parked just below the camera.
Both Eric and Jessica leaned in closer to get a better look at whoever exited the vehicle. When a plump female in her late forties stepped out, Eric tsked.
“I guess that’s not who you’re looking for,” the clerk remarked.
“No, that’s not the person,” Jessica replied, returning her attention back to the monitor.
There was no further action. Jessica was discouraged. The camera had caught nothing. It was quickly coming to an end. But just as all hope dwindled, something black came into view at the bottom right side of the screen.
Jessica jumped, pointing to the area and said in a high, excited voice, “There. Can you zoom the camera onto him?”
“That’s not how it works,” The clerk replied, pausing the video. I can’t zoom into the image more than this.” The image zoomed only twice as big, but it wasn’t enough to make out much more.
“Okay, can you at least play it in slow motion, please?”
“Yeah, that I can do.”
The clerk pressed play at a speed four times slower. It seemed like it was a series of stills complied one after the other.
The black spot on the side of the monitor grew until the outline of a man was seen, he wore a black sweater, the hoodie over his head. He had faded baggy black jeans and white running shoes.
From Jessica’s guess, the man was of medium build and about six feet tall. But then again she could be wrong since there wasn’t anything near him she could use as a scale of measure.
Her mouth dried as it hung open. She could feel its weight. She was too busy focusing to care, waiting for the man to turn and face the camera.
Unfortunately all he did was stand with his back against the camera as if he mocked and taunted them in a game of hide and seek.
The mystery man stood there for a couple of minutes before bowing his head and turning around. He headed obscured away from the camera.
The video ended much to Jessica’s disappointment
“Do you want me to play the next one?” the clerk asked.
“No, that won’t be necessary. But thank you for taking the time to show this video to us.”
“Not a problem,” the girl said while she shut the file.
Jessica exited the office, purging the heavy air from her lungs. “We’ll never know who it was,” she complained to Eric as he shut the door behind him.
“Don’t be too sure.”
She furrowed her brows, twisting to look at him. “What do you mean by that?”
“Come back with me to your room. I’ve got something to show you.”
Chapter 22
What they just witnessed somewhat confirmed Eric’s inkling.
As soon as he closed the door to Jessica’s motel room, Jessica groaned. “I leave for a couple of hours and you turn my room into a pig’s sty.”
He scratched his head. Okay, he had rumpled the bed cover and had laid the SD cards of the transcripts askew on the table. It was hardly a mess. His sister was an obsessive compulsive neat freak. She made a big deal if the toilet paper roll was inserted rolling from the bottom rather than from the top. Of course compared to her he looked like a slob.
“It’s not a pig sty. Look I’ll clean this stuff up later, right now I have to show you something.” He pointed to the tablet resting on the rumpled bed.
“Can’t you just tell me what it is?” she harrumphed looking at the wordy PDF file on the screen.
“Just read the first two paragraphs.”
She perused the screen
with probing eyes. A crease between her brows began to deepen. “This is Al Wentworth’s testimony at Dad’s trial. What is it you want me to see?”
He huffed. “Stop talking and continue reading.”
He wondered how long it would take her to react. To his surprize it only took ten seconds for her to shake her head vigorously, her eyes widening. “Why didn’t I see it this morning? Al’s testimony does correlate with Saul’s statement this morning.”
He nodded crossing his arms over his chest. “Exactly, which means one of them is not saying the complete truth.”
“Well, it was twenty-three years ago. That’s a long time ago and Saul wouldn’t remember exactly what he did that evening.”
Eric frowned. “I think he would. If a bleeding neighbor collapsed and then died in your backyard wouldn’t you remember exactly what you were doing that night?” He didn’t wait for Jessica’s reply. It was a rhetorical question.
“Plus he was pretty quick to reply how old he and his dad were when it happened. There was no pause at all.”
“Which means he remembered that night quite well, contrary to what he claimed.” She tapped the tablet while gawking at the screen.
“Why would he lie where he was and what he was doing that night?”
“How do you know he is the only one lying?” Eric sat down beside her on the edge of the bed. “What if Al Wentworth was lying on the stand, as well?”
She peered at him intensely as if she were trying to follow his train of thought. “I don’t get it. Why would he lie about being at home with Saul?”
“Because maybe Saul wasn’t there and the old man was protecting him, giving him an alibi.”
“Now that is far-fetched, Eric,” Jessica rebutted.
“Is it really? Ninety percent of the time the victim knows his or her killer. You heard the old man admit his son was infatuated with Mom. And you saw the creepy way he kept staring at you this morning.” Eric could see a shiver crawl over her.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he is capable of cold blooded murder!”
Eric shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a hunch. You’re the behavioral analyst. Not me. If anyone can figure out who is saying the truth and who isn’t and who is capable of murder and who isn’t, it’s you.”
He exhaled quickly, then added, “Anyway, I think he is the one stalking you this morning. He was wearing faded black jeans and white running shoes just like the guy in the footage did.”
“Okay, yeah he did. But so does probably a fourth of the population.” She said, then fell silent. Her shifting eyes were a clear indication that her mind was churning, processing today’s events and coincidences.
She sprang to her feet. She clutched her purse. “Let’s go,” she said, exiting the motel room without waiting for Eric to follow.
“Where are we going?” he asked, hustling to catch up. But he already knew her response.
“To speak to Old Man Wentworth of course.”
Chapter 23
The siblings barely spoke while Eric drove to the Wentworth’s residence. The tension was thick as gravy in the air. Both were stressed, pondering every angle of this story, of this case.
Jessica puzzled if Saul could be her stalker. Anything was plausible. Maybe seeing how much she resembled her mother triggered his obsession with her.
But obsessions didn’t imply psychosis or psychopathic behavior.
The stranger from the woods may not have known who she was. Maybe he was simply a guy who got his thrill spying on women or men in the woods. There was no crime in that.
What was a crime was lying under oath in a court of law. Had Al Wentworth lied that his son was at home that evening? And if he did, why lie? What was he trying to hide?
When they got to the modest home, Jessica let out a sigh of relief. “Saul’s car isn’t in the driveway.” She wasn’t looking forward to encountering the rude, creepy man again.
“No, but the caregiver Louise Hershner’s car is there.” Eric pointed out.
“Yeah, obviously she’d be here. They can’t exactly leave the old man alone,” she mumbled while she sauntered toward the door. She removed her earrings, placing one in her pocket, the other in the palm of her hand
“What are you doing?” Eric asked, his eyes reflecting his curiosity.
“Giving us the perfect excuse to come back so soon.” She rang the doorbell.
When Louise came to the door, she had a faint smile on her lips. It quickly vanished when she realized who had rung the bell. “Hi, you’re back.”
“Yeah, sorry to bother you, but did you find an earring like this one?” Jessica opened her palm.
Louise narrowed her eyes looking keenly at the tiny diamond stud. “No, I didn’t. Did you lose it?”
“Yes, I did. The last time I had it was when we were here visiting. Would you mind if we come inside to search?”
A look of panic rolled over her eyes. “I don’t know.”
“It wouldn’t take very long and then we’ll be out of your hair,” Jessica pleaded.
The woman checked her watch. “Oh, it’s only three.”
Her tense lips widened into a grin once more. “Sure, come in. Mr. Wentworth won’t be back for quite some time.”
“What time does Saul finish work?” Eric asked obviously understanding why Louise was worried to let them in.
“Around five,” she replied. “Do you remember where you might have lost it?” she asked Jessica.
“I think I was either in the living room or the kitchen.”
“Can you help me out of the bath, Louise?” they heard Al Wentworth shout from the bathroom.
“He knows who you are now.” Eric noted.
“Yeah, he is lucid at the moment. That’s the way it is with patients suffering with dementia. They have periods of alertness and lucidity and periods of forgetfulness and confusion. In the early stages the periods of lucidity outweigh the negative periods. But as time goes by, the reverse happens until their minds deteriorate to the point of no return.
“I have to help Mr. Wentworth out of the bathtub. Why don’t you search for the earring while I go get him?”
“Okay,” Jessica agreed looking at Eric.
“Now what?” Eric whispered the moment Louise stepped out of ear range.
“I don’t know. I guess we search for any clues while we wait,” she suggested. The odds of them finding any clues on Saul Wentworth’s guilt lying around the living room were highly improbable. But they had to pretend they were searching for her earring.
Once she claimed she found it, she could ask to talk to Al Wentworth for a while.
Now that he was having lucid thoughts would be the perfect time to ask him about the night of the murders. Was his son at home at the time or not?
Instead of looking on the floor or in-between cushions, the most plausible places an earring would have slipped into, Eric searched inside the corner closet. Deciding to follow in her brother’s footsteps, she quietly slid open the desk drawer.
Nothing of importance rested in it, only a writing pad and pen.
“Look what we have here,” Eric whispered.
Glancing over her shoulder she saw him holding an open shoe box. He tipped it so she could see it better. Even from the four-foot distance, she could tell the make of the gun.
“That’s an antique. Is it a Colt?”
He nodded, checking it closely with a tissue paper trying to maneuver it without leaving his prints on it. “Yeah, early 1900. And it’s loaded, too.”
“Why would they own such a rarity and more importantly why would they store it in a shoebox, not a secure metal gun box?” Jessica asked.
“It isn’t very well maintained. It’s scratched and dented,” Eric commented, bringing it closer to his eyes. “I don’t even know if it still works.
“Maybe it’s been in the family for years. The bullets were probably put in it long ago and never checked.”
Before Eric had a chance to return the gun to its place
in the closet, they heard a sliding motion coming from the end of the hall.
The old man and his walker were approaching.
Eric had only enough time to hide the gun behind one of the couch cushions when Louise entered the room helping the old man move. She said, “Mr. Wentworth wants to see you.”
Chapter 24
“You have guests, Mr. Wentworth. Do you recognize them?” Louise asked.
Al Wentworth honed his glazed ice blue eyes on Jessica. He blinked as if he didn’t believe what he saw. “Beth, is that you?”
“She sighed. “No, Mr. Wentworth, I’m her daughter, Jessica. This is my brother, Eric.”
Eric waved awkwardly. “Don’t you remember we came to see you this morning?”
A frightened, disoriented expression washed over him “You came to see me today? No, I would have remembered.”
His shallow breaths became raspy, labored before he broke into a rage of coughs.
The caregiver assisted him to the couch and asked, “I need to get his pumps. Can you make sure he doesn’t fall? I’ll be only a minute.”
“Of course,” Jessica responded sitting beside the wheezing, hacking old man. She gently rubbed his back futilely hoping to help him clean his lungs.
As promised, Louise returned in about thirty seconds or was it after thirty of Al’s heaves?
She inserted a pump in a long clear chamber, then placed the narrow oval opening in his mouth. She sprayed. “Take deep breaths.”
The old man did as she ordered which caused a chain of wet coughs.
She stared at him, frowning, concentrating.
Looking worried, Eric stammered, “Is-is he going to be all right?”
Distracted, the caregiver nodded. “Yes, this will help loosen the phlegm from his lungs so he can breathe better.”
She shook another inhaler in her hand. “Normally I also give him a second shot of this, but the canister is empty.”
“Does he need it?” Jessica asked concerned.
“Well, the Ventolin is enough for now, but he needs this anti-inflammatory to keep his lungs clear. I’ll call Mr. Wentworth to renew his prescription at the pharmacy before he comes home.”
The Girl Who Saw Too Much (The Firth Twins' Series Book 1) Page 10