by Adam Zorzi
“The lawyer?”
“Yes. I think she must have talked to him about divorce. He was cool to me when I called to change the names on our trust documents after Jill died. Mom, Jill went to our safe deposit box for the first time in our marriage. I don't know what she found. There was nothing there but some of your documents, Dad's gold coins, and your grandmother's jewelry. Oh, and I had put some stuff from my old bedroom there like my Beatle's cards. Jill was suspicious of whether I'd told her the complete truth about Bella, I guess, or she could have added something to the deposit box. Maybe she put something about divorce in there.”
Selma stared at him without speaking.
“The police think I had access to morphine. They don't believe me about what happened to Jill's prescriptions. Morphine is what killed her.”
“But Dan, they can't prove anything. It's all circumstantial.”
“Lombardi says most of her cases are circumstantial. She can argue everything at trial, but she can't prevent the police from arresting me. Mom, she said it's a capital case because they're including kidnapping with premeditated murder. I'd get the death penalty.”
She covered her mouth to stifle a scream. “No, no, Dan. That's not possible. Nobody will believe it.”
“Mom, I'm hiding. People already believe it.”
She cried. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't cry in front of you, but…” She couldn't go on. She sat on the sofa and cried quietly for a while.
Her coffee had gotten cold. He picked up the mug and returned it to the kitchen just to have something to do. He gulped down his water. When he returned, his mom was somewhat composed.
“Dan, how do we stop this?”
“Lombardi is supposed to be the best.”
“Before you're arrested, I mean. We don't want you to be arrested. Is there another lawyer? A better one?
“No lawyer can prevent the police from making an arrest. A judge issues an arrest warrant after reviewing police evidence. Their jobs are to get who they consider to be the killer off the streets and behind bars until a jury makes the ultimate decision. Lombardi thinks the evidence won't hold up beyond a reasonable doubt at trial, but she can't stop an arrest.”
“Then we have to improve your side of the situation so the police have to focus on finding the real killer.”
“Mom. I have no idea who killed Jill. I think it had to be random—except why would he take her to the garden, fold her hands, and cover her with a blanket?”
“Maybe that's part of his pattern or thrill or whatever killers have.”
“That's TV, not real life. Katie said two girls from school said Jill had a boyfriend who killed her. I don't believe that, either.”
“No, she wouldn't.” His mother was firm.
“Mom, a year ago you would have said I wouldn't have had an affair, but I did.”
“Only because it was Bella. You wouldn't have taken up with just anyone. Someone new. Jill was too practical and too sensitive to add a boyfriend to the mix. She must have wanted to keep your family together. She never asked you to move, she didn't tell her parents or her sisters at Christmas when she had the chance, and she never told Kaitlyn. She wanted to forgive you. I know she did.”
“Did she say anything to you, Mom?”
“Never. She wouldn't talk about you to me or your father. She had boundaries. What was between the two of you stayed between the two of you.”
They sat in silence.
Finally, his mother stood. She kissed him on the cheek. “Dan, I've had enough for one day. I'm going to bed. Don't stay up too late.”
She rested her hand on his shoulder. He grabbed it and held it tight.
CHAPTER
FIFTY-THREE
Before going to bed, Dan took the landline phones from the foyer and master bedroom and threw them in the garbage. He and Rob would take all of it to the dump next week. Otherwise, reporters and curiosity-seekers would paw through trash left at the curb for regular pickup. He logged onto his computer and cancelled his landline account. At least that was one thing accomplished.
He'd looked at the cell phone carrier to see what he had to do to change his phone number and cancel Jill's account. It was easier to cancel the account and create a new one for his mother and himself. He still didn't want Katie to have a cell.
He'd just turned off the computer when his cell rang. He checked caller ID before answering.
“Lamb, new plans.”
“I'm listening.”
“Hired a PI. Best in the state. He'll get your car tomorrow morning by nine. Winston agreed it can be examined at a mutually acceptable garage. If we find sand, it doesn't prove anything. Just that sometime between the last time you had the car detailed and today, sand showed up. PI will get pictures before it's towed.
“Okay.”
“Forensic photographer will call you tomorrow. Pictures of you in the running clothes you had on that Saturday. Face forward head shot. Profile each side. Full length running in both directions. Same everything. Headband, wristband. Thermos. Socks. Shoes. Sunglasses. Hair length. Whatever.
“Decided to blast the Oceanfront. You, the car, license plate. Save the Bay, right? Virginia Beach newspaper. Flyers. Door to door canvas. Maybe TV down there.”
“Okay.”
“Bad news, Lamb. The jewelry is circulating. Diamond Districts. New York, Antwerp, and Ramat Gan. Know anything about that?”
Dan's head was going to explode any minute. There wasn't enough room in his skull to hold, never mind process, the information that was bombarding him. “No,” he croaked.
“You taking your meds, Lamb?”
“Yes.”
“Goodnight, Lamb.”
Dan simply couldn't grasp how jewelry from the safe deposit box was circulating internationally. Had Jill tried to stash money if they divorced? Could she have been an addict with a need for cash? Even if Jill had taken them, she wouldn't know how to sell them. He certainly wouldn't know where to begin. Rob was the one the family relied on to know things like that. Would she just give the jewelry to her dealer and let him cash out?
He called the car rental agency that delivered. A car with tinted windows would be here around eight-thirty tomorrow morning. They weren't sure what kind had tinted windows. Could be anything—sedan, SUV, hybrid.
With two things accomplished, he slept through the night.
CHAPTER
FIFTY-FOUR
“Dad, Dad,” called Katie as she ran downstairs. “Why was Will Smith at our house?”
“He came over to get some acting advice from me,” said Dan with a straight face as he closed the front door behind him.
“He did not. Why was he here?”
“It's a man who looks like Will Smith in a big black SUV. He came to get the car taken to a garage for analysis. I don't know when we'll get it back so I rented a car. The guy just dropped off the rental.”
She looked out the window where a white sedan parked in the driveway was visible.
“When are we going to get Mom's car back?” She asked as they walked towards the kitchen.
“Probably never. The police took it apart looking for evidence.”
“But my basketball is in there.” A frown crossed her face. “And Abbie's blanket.”
“They'll give us back anything that was in the car. Just not the car itself.”
He knew someone would get it back after trial if there was one, but he didn't want it. He hoped the police kept it forever.
“Breakfast first, and then show me your top three choices for furniture.”
Dan poured cereal for both of them, added blueberries, and soy milk and put them on the breakfast bar. He put out juice for Katie and refilled his coffee cup.
“I'll get the catalogues.” She ran back upstairs.
The photographer called. He wanted meet at noon at a park in Chesterfield County. Dan agreed. They were going in that direction to the paint and furniture stores. Anything to stay out of his neighborhood.
“Here, Dad. I chose three, but this one is the best. She pointed to a living room with four white upholstered armchairs with thick cushions positioned in a wide circle in front of a fireplace. The walls in the photograph were blue.
“I like that a lot,” he said.
“We could paint the fireplace white like in the picture. Then we can hang one of mom's quilts above the mantel.”
“Katie, that's a wonderful idea. I think it'll look great. Do you like the round coffee table?”
“Round, yes, but not that one. I think one with a glass top would be better.”
“You're right. We'll have to get a rug and end tables, too. And maybe a matching love seat to go under the front window in the living room.”
“I like the rug in the picture. It's a circle rug. The wood floors are bare.”
“I see,” Dan winked at Katie. “I'm going to have to take a look at the living room floor. It may need a cleaning or refinishing.”
“I'm going to go get dressed.”
“Be ready by eleven,” he called after her.
His mother had been sitting in the den drinking coffee. She came into the kitchen and sat next to Dan at the bar.
“New plans, I gather.”
“Lombardi called last night. She'd going to have the car ripped apart to try to find some sand.”
She hugged him. “Oh Dan, that's wonderful news.”
“Not really. The car's been washed. Even if sand is found, it doesn't prove anything. It doesn't mean the sand was there from that Saturday. Just sometime between the last wash before Jill left until today. They might be able to analyze the sand to determine if it came from Virginia Beach.”
“They can do that?”
“I guess. Scientists can do all kinds of things. Lombardi hired a private investigator and a photographer. She wants pictures of me dressed exactly how I was that Saturday right down to my haircut. She's going to blitz the three mile area I ran at the Oceanfront. She said flyers, the newspaper, and a door to door canvas. Maybe TV. The photographer is meeting me in Chesterfield County at a park.”
“Dan, I'm so happy. Someone must have seen you. They'll come forward. The police will have to believe your alibi.”
“I hope so. There weren't many people out, but maybe someone will recognize me. It's a long shot. The photographer wants to meet at noon to be in the same general timeframe as when I was running. Light. Shadows. I don't know.
“I haven't had my hair cut since before Jill went missing. Do you think it's grown much? Could you trim it a little in the back?”
She leaned back in her chair and fingered his hair. “No, your hair wasn't in your collar then like it is now. I can trim a little bit. It won't be pretty, but it will be a better length. That lawyer is thorough, isn't she?”
“They say she's the best.” He paused. “Mom, I'm sorry to tell you, but Lombardi said your grandmother's jewelry is circulating in international diamond districts.”
All her Florida tan faded. She looked pale and shocked. She put her hand to her throat as if to adjust a necklace that wasn't there.
“Mom, I'm sorry. Lombardi says Jill was the last one to access the safety box. I thought she might have put something in there from Bowles. Maybe a draft separation agreement. I can't believe she'd take anything out. Certainly not the jewelry. Even if she did—and that's a big if—I don't think she'd call someone in Antwerp to sell them for her.”
“No, no. Of course not,” his mother agreed. “This is all so strange.”
“Unless the addiction theory is true and she gave her dealer the jewels to fence. That just isn't Jill.”
His mom sighed. “I know addicts are secretive and do things they normally wouldn't, but I just don't see Jill being addicted to drugs. If she was addicted to anything, it was cycling.”
Dan put his arms around her. “Mom, please rest while we're out. Jill, the police, all of it on top of Dad dying. I know I've been relying on you too much. Please take a break.”
“I will, Dan. I must.”
***
He now knew why supermodels got paid $10,000 a day. It was hard work. The photographer had found a sandy ring around a small pond in the park—enough that he'd be running in light sand at a slow pace similar to that at the beach. He ran around the pond three times in each direction. He'd stood for face and profile shots before and after he worked up a sweat. The man knew exactly what he wanted. He took close-ups of the Thermos and his watch. Dan didn't wear wrist or head bands. He never wore a hat. He hadn't worn sunglasses that Saturday.
Katie seemed mesmerized by the photographer. She stood silently away from him while he worked, but watched everything he did. When the photographer was finished and Dan stood trying to catch his breath, Katie told him what he did was cool and asked what kinds of photos he took. When he replied fashion and cars for magazines, she looked rapturous. He told her he also did occasional forensic work. Forensic meaning criminal. Scene of the crime stuff.
“I'd love to do that when I grow up.”
“Miss Ramsay, you can start right now. I started taking pictures when I was eight. There's lots to learn about light, shadow, and movement. That's just to get the shot. Then there are all kinds of technical enhancements and editing.”
“Where would I learn that?”
“Start taking pictures. Do you have an art teacher at school?”
“Yes, Ms. Vacarro. Art's my favorite class.”
“Julie Vacarro? She's excellent. Just tell her you're interested and she'll get you started. And please don't take selfies. They're killing photography as an art.”
“I can't. My parents won't let me have a cell phone.”
“Good for them.”
Dan walked up in time to hear that someone agreed with at least one of his decisions.
CHAPTER
FIFTY-FIVE
Dan asked the photographer to stay with Katie for a few minutes so he could change in the park's men's room. He ran water over himself to cool down. He'd just changed and was getting ready to comb his hair when the photographer called him.
“Mr. Ramsay, your daughter's run after some family with a dog.”
Dan ran out of the wooden structure and in the direction the photographer pointed. He saw Katie talking to a redhead, a girl, and a boy with a black Schnauzer mix. Abbie. The dog was Abbie.
He caught up to them. The woman looked startled and stood between him and her children. Abbie was licking Katie.
“What's going on?” he asked.
“Dad, it's Abbie.”
“I can see that.” He turned to the woman for an explanation.
“Oh, dear. This is our dog Maggie. We lost her about three years ago. A careless house sitter let her get away. We thought she was gone for good until one day, about six weeks ago, a woman called me and said she had Maggie. She said her husband had found Maggie at the animal shelter and adopted her. She somehow found us and returned her.”
“Did this woman tell you her name?”
“Mrs. Ramsay. Jill Ramsay. I offered her a reward, but she said no. She said her family wouldn't feel right keeping Maggie if they knew another family missed her. My kids were ecstatic.”
Dan's stomach muscles clenched and unclenched. Everything. Everything he did or saw brought new information about Jill and just how little he knew about her. She'd given Abbie away?
“I'm Dan Ramsay. This is my daughter Kaitlyn. We thought Abbie was missing. We put up posters and I've been checking the animal shelter every day.”
“And your wife didn't tell you?”
“Mom died,” said Katie.
The woman looked at Dan, who nodded. “Yes, my wife was killed recently.”
“Oh, I'm sorry. She didn't have a chance to tell you. Oh, I'm sorry. So sorry.”
Jill died three weeks after Abbie went missing. She'd had plenty of time to tell him what she'd done. Why would she put Katie through that? Him, maybe, but not Katie.
“Do you mind if I say hello?”
“Pl
ease.”
Dan buried his face in Abbie's coat. He inhaled her special scent. It wasn't there. This family must use a different shampoo. “I missed you,” he said into her fur. “I never thought I'd see you again. I'm glad you're not hurt.” He hugged Abbie as hard as he could. She licked his face.
When he stood, Katie had assessed the situation and made the awful conclusion. “Dad, we're not going to get Abbie back, are we?”
“No, Katie. We can't. She belonged to this family first. We kept her safe for them.”
He and the woman exchanged contact information.
“If you ever need to find a new home for Maggie, please call us. We'd be happy to have her.”
“Of course, Mr. Ramsay. I'm sorry, Kaitlyn. She clearly loves you both.”
Katie gave Abbie once last big hug and ran to their parked car.
“You still feel like shopping for furniture?” he asked Katie who couldn't hold back tears.
“No, but we have to. Not going isn't going to make them give us Abbie.”
***
“Mom, I'm going to lie down for a couple of hours. Katie's going to read. Suzanne and Rob aren't coming until six or six-thirty. The steaks are marinated. I won't have much to do.”
He'd filled her in on the details of Abbie and furniture shopping. He'd persuaded the store to let him buy floor models even from other locations so they'd be delivered all at once. They'd bought a round coffee table, two end tables, and two lamps. The matching love seat would be delivered in two weeks.
He thought Katie would be overwhelmed by the number of shades of blue at the paint store, but she walked right up to the one she wanted and handed the chip to the clerk. Dan bought all the stuff to use for painting. All he had was a ladder. He got some wood floor cleaner, too. He hoped he'd have a busy week.
Before he went to the bedroom, he called Bowles at home. Will pushed back, but Dan insisted that a file to probate Jill's will be opened tomorrow. He didn't tell him why. Just to do it. He was getting to be as bossy as Lombardi.