Black Thursday

by Linda Joffe Hull

  “If it’s a murder, then Bargain Barn isn’t at fault,” Frank added.

  “Exactly.”

  “But what about the tape?” I asked.

  “Alan couldn’t prove when it was made. He claimed it was from right after the accident, but that particular security camera was older and the date stamp hadn’t been programmed in. Besides, the image was too grainy to tell who the person was.”

  A police officer emerged from the door where I’d exited the church. Behind him, and flanked by two additional officers, was John Carter. His expression was equal parts deep distress and sheer confusion.

  I had a feeling it matched mine.

  “Did you know Alan not only organized, but underwrote the memorial today?” I said as Anastasia and the cameraman appeared in the doorway and began to film John and his small entourage of family members being led over to the waiting limo.

  “Even more interesting,” Detective McClarkey said as John paused to look over at the patrol car where Alan awaited transport, shook his head, and slipped inside the limo. “Did Alan tell you how his first wife died?”

  “I didn’t get a chance to ask,” I said.

  “An accident,” he said.

  “What kind of accident?” Frank asked as I fought back tears watching the vehicles take off together, each man headed toward his own personal hell.

  “An accident in the warehouse of Bargain Barn,” Detective McClarkey said.

  “At the store?” I heard myself ask.

  “She was accidentally pinned beneath a front loader.”

  “Seriously?” Frank asked.

  “The file’s been sitting in our cold case cabinet for years,” Detective McClarkey said.

  “Meaning you have evidence tying Alan to both crimes?”

  He nodded. “We do now.”

  twenty-one

  “I’m just glad Maddie is safe and sound,” Joyce said as we filed from our various cars back into the house. “Thank goodness!”

  “Why is it always the nice ones you have to watch out for?” Barb asked.

  Frank sniffed. “Never trusted the guy.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever watched someone I know get arrested,” Trent said, tugging off his tie.

  “You weren’t there when Toby Torrance got caught with booze after the football game last year?” FJ asked.

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.”

  “Now that there’s nothing to worry about, can I have a car?” Eloise asked. “I really want to see my friends for a couple of hours before I leave tonight.”

  “Shouldn’t we have a proper goodbye supper before we send you back to all that dorm food?” Joyce asked.

  “That would be great,” Eloise said. “But I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”

  “Maybe we can order pizza or something?” FJ asked.

  “That way no one has to cook,” Trent added.

  “I do have a coupon for twenty dollars off any order over fifty at Leonardo’s.” 31

  “All I know is we need to eat early,” Frank said. “Say, five thirty, so we have time before I take you to the airport?”

  “Perfect,” Eloise, the boys, and I all said in unison.

  As she accepted Frank’s car keys, the boys headed toward their never ending, purportedly ever-evolving Xbox game, and the rest of the family began to disperse throughout the house, I made my way into the entry hall. The realtor had jotted a note on the comments pad I’d left on the front table.

  Thank you for opening your lovely house on such short notice, but the buyers have decided to go in a different direction.

  “Everything’s coming up roses,” Gerald said from the kitchen to Joyce or whomever it was he was talking to.

  His words seemed to hang in the hallway as I went into my office, powered on the computer, turned on the TV to drown out the family noise, and closed the French doors behind me.

  Cathy Carter’s killer was behind bars.

  We were all out of harm’s way except for the one person who, by his own admission, was safe in the first place.

  My marriage was no longer on the brink of collapse.

  Other than a still-necessary offer on the house, everything was coming up roses.

  I sighed.

  If only the roses didn’t feel quite so thorny.

  My situation with Frank, while on a better track, had a long way to go to be called ideal again. We needed to sell the house and soon, so the buyer’s pass was a disappointment. What bothered me most though was I hadn’t even for a second considered that Alan Bader could be anything more than the victim of horrible bad luck or—if his sleep-deprived, distress-induced theory had proved true—the target of corporate evil doing.

  But a double murderer?

  I still couldn’t believe the kind, sensitive man I’d been working alongside was not only a cold-hearted sociopath, but one with Oscar-worthy acting skills.

  Could he really have had plans to do me in next?

  I logged on to my computer and found myself scanning through the growing messages and sharing the shock, outrage, and general horror about the arrest. Ditto on my emails, where, mixed in with the mounting How could he? notes was a message from Anastasia.

  The subject line read Cyber Monday:

  Maddie,

  Can you believe this day? Just when we thought things couldn’t get any more shocking or sensational … wow!!!

  Sorry we didn’t get to talk in the midst of everything, but since Cyber Monday is meant to be a day to stay at home and shop, I was thinking that I’d really like to tape tomorrow’s segment from your house. I’m planning to have the crew there tomorrow morning at ten a.m. to tape us talking online tips. We’ll run the segment on the noon news in conjunction with any updates on the Bargain Barn story. Sound like a plan?

  Still reeling from this morning,

  Anastasia

  Reeling was the key word, all right.

  I hadn’t expected to have a camera crew traipsing through my house, but given the weekend had been nothing but a series of unforeseeable and unexpected events, why not tape from the comfort of home?

  I sent Anastasia a confirmation email and then tried to distract myself by jotting Cyber Monday bullet points for both the Mrs. Frugalicious blog and my morning interview:

  * Make a list: It keeps you on track and prevents unnecessary impulse buys like accessories or add-ons that eat into your discounts.

  * Do your research in advance: Many merchants announce their online offers ahead of Cyber Monday. Check top coupon sites for a roundup of deals available as well.

  * Pre-shop: Some marketers will try and make a regular price look like a bargain so before you start loading your cart, do some comparing at sites like pricegrabber.com, eBay, and local stores—particularly when you’re shopping for high-priced items with options and features.

  * Find free shipping: Steep shipping and handling costs quickly cut into your cyber savings.

  * Read up on returns: Return shipping and restocking fees can be an unexpected and unwelcome expense, so know the policies for sending things back.

  I managed to stay semi-distracted with the task at hand—but only until I wrote the next bullet point:

  * Practice safe shopping: Don’t be fooled by a deal that seems too good to be true. Do a search on the name of a particular website to see a record of prior consumer complaints.

  Somehow, I couldn’t imagine feeling entirely safe about shopping ever again.

  I’d certainly been fooled by Alan and his best advertiser and friendly client act, both online and in-person.

  *Check the Better Business Bureau to see if the site you want to visit is accredited. The National Retail Federation’s CyberMonday.com also has a list of legitimate retailers offering Cyber Monday discounts.

  Detective McClarkey w
as right—a legitimate retailer might not be above an elaborate scheme to depress Bargain Barn’s profits so they could be acquired at a low price—but why resort to murder?

  *Secure your purchase by only entering credit card details on pages that use SSL security. To make sure you’re on a secure page, check that the URL for the page begins with “https://” and not “http://.” That “s” lets you know the site is secure.

  Bargain Barn sold all types of high-tech equipment, from televisions to video cameras. What were the chances that they didn’t know how to set the date and time on their own store security camera?

  Setting aside the Cyber Monday tip list I’d started, I turned back to my computer and opened the Questions & Answers spreadsheet.

  The spreadsheet I’d made specifically to share with Alan.

  Alan, who insisted we not bring the police into it until we had enough information for them to believe our story.

  His story.

  My first question, Was the accident really an accident? had apparently been answered.

  As was Who killed Cathy Carter?

  I created a new tab, titled it Alan Bader: Guilty As Charged and began to list every suspicious thing I could think of about our interactions over the past few months.

  Contacted Mrs. Frugalicious, invested in advertising, and established a preferred customer relationship for the purposes of manipulation.

  Made too-good-to-be-true Black Friday deals to entice Frugarmy to his store.

  Sweetened the deal when he learned Channel Three was coming but made sure to stay out of the spotlight himself.

  Created deal maps to get shoppers into a certain organization and order.

  Snuck away at an opportune moment, climbed into the rafters in an out of the way corner of Bargain Barn, scrambled across the store, and pushed pallet off upper shelf.

  Disappeared into his office with victim’s husband after the pallet fell.

  A: To comfort John Carter in light of the tragic loss of his own wife?

  B: So he wouldn’t be available in the aftermath of the incident and Bargain Barn would necessarily have to close?

  Somehow, both options still stumped me for some reason.

  So did the news report that then preempted the all-in-one-weights-and-cardio-training-system infomercial that had been droning away on my small office TV.

  Not surprisingly, Anastasia Chastain appeared on the screen.

  “I’m here in front of the South Metro Police Department, where local businessman Alan Bader of Bargain Barn is being held at this hour on suspicion of murder. His dramatic arrest took place earlier this morning in the midst of the memorial service for his alleged victim, Mrs. Catherine Carter … ”

  Tape rolled of the arrest scene itself, including me in conversation with Detective McClarkey amid the gathering crowd. The clip ended with John Carter, his face a mask of confusion and distress, as he stopped to glance at Alan in the back of the patrol car.

  The news report went live again outside the police station.

  “We were all shocked by Mr. Bader’s arrest, none of us more so, I’m sure, than the Carter family.” The camera angle widened as Anastasia turned to a familiar gray-haired lady standing beside her. “With me is Cathy Carter’s aunt, Louise Carter.”

  “We came straight from the memorial down to the police station,” said a stoic, but clearly angry Aunt Louise. “How could Mr. Bader have done such a horrible thing?”

  “A question I think we’re all asking right now,” Anastasia said.

  “If only John and Cathy had headed home from Thanksgiving at our house like they’d planned.”

  Like they’d planned?

  “They weren’t planning to go shopping?” Anastasia asked as though reading my mind.

  I upped the volume on the television.

  “Cathy said she was tired from eating too much turkey and they were turning in early. I can’t imagine why they decided to stop by one of those wretched, crazy sales instead …”

  Instead of heading straight home, Cathy Carter—who wasn’t and couldn’t have been CC since Alan was, but coincidentally happened to have the same initials as CC—suddenly happened to decide, for no particular reason, to go shopping on Black Friday at none other than Bargain Barn?

  That, or Cathy was CC and had spent months writing nasty posts saying she wasn’t coming to Bargain Barn, and had gone so far as to announce she was headed straight home after Thanksgiving dinner, then just showed up at Bargain Barn anyway? Not to mention proclaimed she was a big fan and wanted her picture taken with me when she got there?

  I turned to my spreadsheet.

  Were Catherine Carter and CC (Contrary Claire) the same person?

  1. Yes.

  If so, then Cathy had been my online heckler. Alan had to have decided she was in the way and enticed her to come to the store for a different kind of Black Friday special. Then, after killing her, he pretended to be her via email, to make it look like she was a victim of the unnamed corporate killer?

  2. No.

  Then Alan, who coincidentally started advertising at about the same time as CC appeared, had posed as CC all along, heckling and writing from various emails, while Cathy Carter was a random innocent person who happened to share the initials of my online stalker? And happened to change her mind about going to Bargain Barn at the last moment … ?

  3. Maybe?

  Alan had to be CC or was tracking CC.

  In any case, why did Cathy end up at the store when she wasn’t planning to go?

  Furthermore, how did Alan know who she was or what she looked like when she got there?

  The front doors to the precinct opened behind Anastasia, and Aunt Louise and John Carter emerged with Louise’s husband and the other male relative.

  All were still dressed for the memorial service in dark suits.

  “First a funeral, and then having to spend the afternoon answering questions at the police station,” Anastasia said as they made their way over. “I can’t imagine what a difficult day this has been for your family.”

  “Unbearable.” Aunt Louise shook her head. “Can you believe Mr. Bader was planning to head to my nephew’s house and keep him company when they arrested him?”

  “Truly shocking,” Anastasia said, quickly pointing her microphone at John Carter. “Mr. Carter, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” he croaked in a gravelly, anguished voice, and looking like he’d rather be anywhere than on camera.

  “You have to be relieved the police made such short work of such a terrible situation.”

  “Very,” he managed.

  “How do you feel knowing Mr. Bader was heading to your house at the time of his arrest?”

  “I just can’t believe the deception.” Tears now welled in his eyes. “He put himself out there as a comfort and a true friend.”

  “Devastating insult to injury,” Anastasia said.

  “I just want my wife back.” John began to sob.

  “If you’ll excuse us, we really need to get him home,” the younger of the two men said, putting an arm around John Carter.

  As Anastasia attempted to summarize the story with some sort of justice served despite it all spin I watched, once again, as a slump-shouldered John Carter slipped into the limo Alan had rented for them and headed off toward a future of loneliness, sadness, and the certainty of uncertainty.

  I was outraged by the idea that Alan Bader could have blindsided both of us with what could only be sheer cold-hearted cruelty. I also couldn’t help but feel that if it weren’t for me and my discount shopping call to arms, the Frugarmy wouldn’t be short one nice, kind, bland member.

  Considering I hadn’t had a chance to pay my sympathies to the widower like Anastasia had, I decided it was high time to try and counterbalance the damage done by placing a condo
lence call of my own.

  I was turning away from the TV to begin wading my way through the online White Pages for people named John Carter in the Denver metro area when Anastasia added, “This story has apparently touched the hearts of viewers at home, many of whom have asked where they can send their condolences. Donations in Cathy Carter’s name should be made to the Mile High Pet Adoption Society …”

  And then she added a footnote that gave me an even better idea.

  “If you would like to send a card to Mr. Carter directly, the address is at the bottom of your screen.”

  _____

  Grabbing one of the oversized wicker baskets I’d picked up during a buy-one-get-one-for-a-penny sale at the craft store, I put together a condolence basket 32 filled with a variety of snacks and easy-to-prepare food items. Seeing as there was no reception or wake to speak of, John Carter would have little or nothing in the way of casseroles or baked goods to keep him nourished while he adjusted to life without a wife and hot dinner waiting for him.

  I arranged the basket of goodies, wrapped it in plastic,33 tied some raffia around the top, and made my way up the stairs.

  While I’d rather have left a note saying I was off to do a few errands, there was no avoiding the boys. As they’d been all weekend, they were stationed in front of the family room TV, in view of the basement stairs.

  “Where are you going?” FJ asked without looking up from the post-apocalyptic disaster scenario playing out on screen.

  “Just headed out for a quick errand,” I said, making a mental note to pay a bit more attention to what was actually going on in those games they were so into.

  “With a giant gift basket?” Trent asked with the hint of an eyebrow raise.

  “It’s for Cathy Carter’s husband,” I said.

  “You’re going over to his house?” FJ asked, actually glancing up.

  “Considering his wife was a member of my Frugarmy, I can’t help but feel somewhat responsible.”

  “You think what happened is your fault?” Trent asked.

  “Not exactly,” I said. “But either Alan was posing as my stalker CC and Cathy Carter died as a result, or he was stalking her and now she’s dead.”