“How can you be sure, Jake? You said you didn’t get a good look because she was too far away, remember?”
She had me there, memory can play tricks after a while, and now I wasn’t sure what I had seen. “Okay, suppose you are right and Shelia’s not dead. And suppose the corpse was a homeless person she and Craig lured into their home, but why? Why go to all this trouble to frame you?”
Bonnie took a deep drag on the cigarette she had been smoking, and let the smoke drift off before answering. “I can think of a million reasons. Like insurance, or maybe she was about to be arrested for something, or maybe it’s like I said before and she came home to find her doppelganger in bed with Craig.”
“Doppelganger?”
“Someone who looks exactly like her,” Bonnie answered.
“I know what a doppelganger is, Bon. I was wondering what made you think the corpse looks anything like Shelia. And come to think of it, wouldn’t the cops want to identify the body with fingerprints, or dental records or something? I would think that would be mandatory in a murder, case.”
Bonnie squashed her cigarette in an ashtray that had once seen better days as the base of a flower pot. “There you go being a negative Nancy. I need your help to prove Shelia’s alive before they arrest me for killing her. If I wanted someone to throw roadblocks in my way, I would have asked Margot.”
Fred must have detected her frustration and went over to sit by her. Or maybe it was because I didn’t have any more chicken wings and she did.
“Whoa, Bon. I was just playing devil’s advocate. I suppose it won’t hurt to check into it.”
***
Checking into Shelia pretending to be dead consisted of a futile Internet search of police regulations on body identification. One site said autopsies were mandatory in cases of murder, while another said it was at the discretion of the family. What an autopsy had to do with identifying a body that wasn’t disfigured or burnt to a crisp was beyond me, but I wasn’t surprised at the search results. I wondered if I’d be better off consulting a Ouija board.
Before I wasted anymore gray-cells trying to prove something so foolish, I decided to check and see if Shelia had ever been arrested. My twisted logic told me if she had, then her fingerprints would be on file, and I could forget about giving myself the headache of going any further, because the forensic pathologist would have checked. Once more, I knew as much as when I’d started; I couldn’t get that information without paying for it.
In the end, I decided my best bet would be to watch Craig’s house. If Shelia were hiding there, she would have to come out sooner or later.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“That’s the dumbest idea you’ve had yet, Jake. Just how long do you think it will be before the neighborhood watch calls the cops on you?” Bonnie said after she quit laughing. Fred and I were having our morning coffee when I told her my plan to catch Shelia. Well, I was having coffee. Fred liked his with lots of milk and nothing else, including coffee.
“I’m not going to sit out there with binoculars like some kind of pervert. In fact, I’m not even going to be there.” Her look said more than any response could have. She sat there staring at me, supporting her chin with her index finger. It looked like she might slip, and cut herself with one of her rose-red fingernails from the expensive manicure Margot had paid for a few days ago.
“The Internet, Bon,” I said, before she could ask. “I’ll leave my car parked across the street with an IP camera on the dash that I’ll disguise as a radar detector.”
“You can do that? You can watch the house over the Internet?”
“You bet. And most of those cameras are twelve volts, so with the addition of a cheap adapter, it should plug right into the cigarette lighter.”
She stopped supporting her chin and reached for her pack of cigarettes. My mention of the lighter must have flipped some kind of switch in her brain. “Only one problem, Einstein. You might as well write NSA on your Jeep, because it’ll be about as inconspicuous as a naked hooker at communion.”
The image she painted made me laugh. “And it wouldn’t surprise me if Lakewood has some kind of law against parking overnight. It would be my luck they would tow it after twenty-four hours. I guess that’s not such a great idea.”
“No, Jake. That MP camera is a stroke of genius.”
“IP, Bon, and I forgot one important fact. It needs a router to connect to the Internet. I suppose I could search for an unprotected router in the neighborhood, but that too is a crime now. But it doesn’t matter. Does your nephew still have his roofing company?”
Bonnie was about to light up again, but stopped in midair with her lighter still lit. “Jonathan?” Recognition of my next move showed in her wrinkles. “Oh, no. Not that again.”
It was only last year I had taken a job with Jonathan in an attempt to find evidence. Shelia had threatened me with manslaughter in the death of her husband when a barbecue grill I was using exploded in her husband’s face. Long story short, I suspected Jonathan of sabotaging the grill so I talked my way into his roofing yard to search for the faulty propane bottle.
“I need to borrow one of his pickups for a couple hours. Just long enough to install the camera on the house Cory and Jennifer were renting.”
Bonnie went back to lighting her cigarette, so I continued explaining my plan. “All you have to do is call him and ask to borrow a truck to go get your treadmill. We won’t need it more than a couple hours.”
“Let me guess, you’re going to pretend to inspect their roof. That’s why you need a truck with a sign on it, so no one will ask what you’re doing there.”
“Close, but no banana. I’ll pretend to be an estimator.”
***
Jonathan’s roofing yard was only a few miles from Cory and Jennifer’s house, so even if he was tracking our mileage, I reasoned he’d never notice the little side trip we were about to make. He was waiting at the gate when we pulled up.
“I didn’t think I’d see you around here after last time,” he said after I parked my Jeep.
Bonnie got out, slammed her door, and spoke before I could. “Don’t shoot the messenger, Jon. Jake has been good enough to help me, so I’d appreciate it if you could hold your tongue.”
Jonathan smiled exactly the way Paul Wilson had that day at the bookstore when Cory had questioned him about the gold. Hannibal Lecter must have been an inspiration for both of them. “Sorry, Aunt Bonnie, but you don’t need his help. Mom would kill me if I didn’t do it for you.”
***
Bonnie went with Jon to get her treadmill when we realized he wasn’t going to let us use his truck. The ride home with Fred gave me time to rethink my plan on using the IP camera. I didn’t want to run up my credit card with the purchase anyway, so in the end I decided to find another way to smoke out Shelia, if it really was her who I had seen at Craig’s. For all I knew she was truly dead and the girl I saw was someone Crig had picked up at a bar. But on a whim, I decided to do a quick drive-by anyway.
Craig’s new SUV wasn’t in his drive, or the garage. I thought it odd he left the garage door open. If he was home, where was his car? Once again, I drove back to the Casa Bonita parking lot, put Fred on a leash and headed west on Colfax toward Saulsbury Street.
Fred stopped at a telephone pole on the corner of Pierce and Colfax. I pretended to look at some posters on the pole when I saw him lift a leg.
“This could be you, buddy, if they arrest me for what you’re about to do,” I said when I saw a poster for a lost dog stapled between a poster for a week old garage sale, and another for a missing woman. He didn’t seem to care and went about his business anyway. I was about to scold him before I did a double take of the poster. The woman could easily pass for Shelia’s sister.
I didn’t know what I expected once we’d made it back to Craig’s house. Bonnie’s theory that they used a body double to fake Shelia’s murder was beginning to make sense. Part of me was hoping his new girlfriend would answer the d
oor and dispel my suspicions while another part didn’t want anyone to answer, especially not Craig. When no one answered, I looked around at the neighbors’ houses to see if anyone was watching, then casually walked down the drive toward the garage.
Most of the houses on the block had detached garages built at the back of the house. At least, those that had garages. It was an older neighborhood, built in the thirties and forties when garages were a luxury. It was obvious Craig’s garage was an afterthought, built in the late fifties or early sixties, because the architectural style wasn’t even close to that of the house. The garage had stucco walls and a flat roof, whereas the house was clad in asbestos siding with an asphalt shingle roof. I also discovered why the door had been left open—here wasn’t one. What must have been its door, or what was left of it, was lying against a side of the garage I couldn’t see from the street. It was one of those doors that consisted of two-foot panels that slid on rollers, and there was only one panel I could see.
The temptation to snoop inside was too great. “Stay here and warn me if anyone comes back, Freddie.” He had been following me so closely he could have been my shadow, if I had large floppy ears and a tail.
Fred looked at me like I’d just eaten a burger and didn’t give him any. “Please, Freddie. I need you to be my lookout.”
He stayed when I went into the garage, but something told me it wouldn’t last long so I had better be quick. I had no idea what I was looking for. If Craig had killed Shelia, would he be dumb enough to leave evidence in a garage less than twenty feet from the murder scene?
Once inside, I couldn’t see anything of value. It was a small garage, with a workbench on the side that must have made it difficult to park a car larger than his old Toyota. That explained why he parked his new SUV in the driveway. A quick glance showed no tools on the bench or walls, which didn’t surprise me, because they wouldn’t last long in an open garage in this part of town. I was about to leave when I decided to check the floor for oil stains, but that, too, was a disappointment. The power-steering fluid I hoped to find on the floor didn’t exist. The only discoloration I saw were dirty, dark, puddles of oil from a tired engine.
Fred’s tail beat faster than a hammer-drill on high when I returned. “I’m happy to see you too, Freddie. Are you ready to get out of here before we get caught?,”
He barked once before heading down the driveway toward the street. I swear he acted like we had just robbed a bank. I thought for sure he wanted to get away before the posse showed up, but he surprised me. Instead of going to the car, he stopped at a trash can and barked again.
I knew him too well to ignore his outburst. “Is there something in there?”
He answered with a grin.
Once more, I looked around to see if we were being watched before lifting the lid from the trash can. “Is food all you ever think about?” I asked when I saw somebody’s partially eaten, worm-infested sandwich. I was about to put the lid back and leave when I realized the worms weren’t moving. In fact, they weren’t worms at all. They were pieces of tape from an old cassette. But not any cassette, it was tape from a mini-DV cartridge, like the one my old camcorder used. I pushed the sandwich aside, and saw the rest of my tape. Someone had tried to destroy it by cutting it into pieces.
Fred barked before I finished gathering the larger pieces of tape into a bundle I could carry. “What now, Freddie?” He was looking toward the house.
This time the hair on the back of my neck rose. It was like one of those eerie feelings one gets when walking by a cemetery late at night. I felt someone was watching us and looked up in time to see a curtain moving inside the window facing us.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jon waved me down after I’d turned onto Columbine Circle. His truck was parked in Bonnie’s driveway with the treadmill resting on the tailgate, where he sat smoking a cigarette. I pulled in behind him instead of going up the road to my cabin.
He flipped the cigarette aside. “It’s about time you showed up. I was about to give up on you.”
Fred wasted no time running up to our cabin the minute I let him out. I didn’t bother calling him back, for he wouldn’t be much help with the treadmill anyway.
Maybe Fred didn’t care if Jon burned down our mountain, but I did, and walked over to his discarded cigarette to stomp on it. “Where’s Bonnie?” I asked, feeling bile rising in my stomach. I felt like telling him what an idiot he was, but held it in for Bonnie’s sake.
He pulled out his cell phone from a shirt pocket, pretending not to notice me extinguishing his cigarette. “Dropped her off at the book store. She got a call from that friend of hers on the way up here. Told me to wait for you cause you had a key.” He never once took his eyes off his phone to look at me.
“Patty?” I asked, mesmerized by the way his thumbs danced on the virtual keyboard.
“I guess. She didn’t say.” He finally looked up from his texting. “Well Smoky the Bear, if you’re ready to help me, I’ve really got better things to do than sit around yakking about a couple of old women.”
A year ago I would have told him where he could put the treadmill, but ever since Julie died I no longer let rude people upset me. She taught me that life really is too short to get upset over ignorant people, so I bit my tongue and counted to ten instead.
***
I waited until Jon was gone before calling Bonnie to see if she needed a ride home.
“Thanks, Jake, you’re a sweetheart, but it will be too late. I’m helping Patty inventory the store.”
That didn’t surprise me, for Bonnie would help anyone who asked. “Why’s she doing that?”
“She came into some money and wants to buy the place. It broke her heart when she sold the store in Boulder, and now she has a chance to get back to what she loves the most.”
“I’ll be up awhile splicing a tape back together that Fred found at Renfield’s. Call me when you’re ready to come home.”
“Craig Renfield’s? What were you doing there?” A voice in the background told me she was using the speaker mode.
“Anyone there besides Patty?”
“No, Jake. Now tell me why you went there.”
I wasn’t sure who was listening, and didn’t want some total stranger to think I went around scrounging through trash cans, so I blamed it on Fred. “Wilson told me that Renfield had Julie’s book, so I had to see if it was true. He wasn’t home, but when Fred took off chasing a cat into the backyard, I went chasing him. That’s when he found the tape.”
“And you think its tape from your camcorder?”
“What else could it be?”
“An old Alice Cooper tape that wore out after forty years. Craig Renfield strikes me as the type who likes decapitating chickens.” I could hear Patty giggle at the remark.
“Decapitating chickens?” I asked.
Bonnie laughed. “Before your time, sonny. Alice Cooper was a rock star who used to behead live chickens on stage.”
“Ask him, Bonnie,” Patty asked.
“Jake, did you ever retrieve Shelia’s copy of Tom Sawyer? Patty said it might be worth a fortune.”
“Yes, Bon. You can tell her it’s safe. Fred and I dug it up some time ago.” I wanted to know why Patty was so interested, but I also wanted to get to work on the camcorder tape, so I didn’t ask.
Bonnie said something to her friend I couldn’t make out before coming back online. “Patty would like to see it when you pick me up tomorrow. Do you mind?”
“Sure. I mean, I don’t mind, but I didn’t tell you the best part about our trip to Renfield’s. I saw a poster for a missing girl who could have been Shelia’s twin. And when I was going through the trash, I swear I saw a curtain move in the house. I think you’re right about the body double, and it was probably Shelia watching us. Once I get this tape back together, we should have all the proof we need to show it was Shelia who broke into your house, and planted evidence to frame you.”
There was a long pause. I checked
my phone to see if I had lost the signal. “Bon? Are you there?”
“Sorry, Jake. Patty was talking in my other ear. She says she knows someone who can put the tape back together, and you shouldn’t try it yourself, or you may ruin it. She’ll gladly pay to have it done.”
Now it was my turn to pause. Obviously, they didn’t think I was capable of splicing the tape back together, and maybe they were right. “Okay, Bon. We’ll let the pros have a stab at it before I make a complete mess.”
“Thanks, Jake. And get some rest. I’ll call you in the morning to come and get us.”
***
Patience never was my best virtue. I had no intention of waiting to see what was on the tape. I had it back together in less than an hour, but didn’t have any way of viewing it without my camcorder. Then I remembered a converter I used to use so many years ago. It was a VHS cartridge that held a mini DV cassette and allowed it to be played in a VHS player. All I had to do was find the player and converter.
***
Somewhere around two in the morning I saw who had really tried to frame Bonnie, and knew why Patty wanted the tape so badly.
My first reaction was to run down to the bookstore, but I decided to call the cops first. It was late, and Lakewood said they would have an officer call me back when one was available, so I did the next best thing and called Deputy White. I knew it was out of his jurisdiction, but Appleton and the murdered kids weren’t.
White wasn’t in either, so I left a long voice mail describing Fred’s find and my deduction of who had been doing all the killing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Bonnie was surprised to see us when Fred and I showed up at the bookstore, but Patty wasn’t. The lines in her forehead, and frown on her face painted a picture of complete despair.
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