Missing Banker

by Curry, Edna

  “An aunt? In California? I don’t know of any. Our only aunt lives in a nursing home in Florida near our parents. She’s been there for years and isn’t likely to need anyone else.”

  “I see. So you don’t know who she’d be visiting in California?”

  “No, I have no idea. But Melanie did have a lot of odd friends. Maybe she wanted to go see one of them and made up this aunt for an excuse.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “She and Lou didn’t always see eye to eye. He could be pretty bossy. Maybe she had a fight with him and needed a break.”

  “Oh. Thanks for your help.” Chance gave her his cell number and hung up.

  The BCA guys had found very little evidence of violence. Nothing disturbed, no blood.

  “She must have been killed somewhere else,” Chance said grimly. “There should have been a lot of blood from that kind of injury.”

  “Usually is,” one of the BCA guys agreed. “And with all our equipment, we usually find the evidence, even if they try to clean it up.”

  “Well, check out his car, although since he used hers to hide her body, he probably didn’t use his own.”

  “Or,” the guy replied, “you have the wrong man,”

  Chapter 11

  Lou innocent?

  Chance hated to admit that was even possible.

  Disappointed, he went back to his office to check with the airport. A seat on an afternoon flight to LAX had indeed been purchased with Melanie Bales listed as the passenger. Her credit card was used to buy the ticket online, so there was no proof who had bought it.

  Chance checked Melanie’s computer and found the transaction had taken place at 6:45 a.m. today. But anyone with access to her computer and credit card could have made the purchase.

  Lou’s lawyer had convinced him to say nothing. Without any evidence, they’d had to release him.

  “Melanie’s parents and sister said they were coming,” Chance told him, putting the envelope with Lou’s confiscated belongings on the desk.

  “I’m sure her parents will stay at their own house and Anne, too,” Lou muttered. His eyes were red-rimmed and he still looked shell-shocked.

  “They said they wanted to help with the funeral arrangements.”

  “I suppose they’ll want it in a church,” Lou grumbled and sighed as he pocketed his belongings. “Okay. I’ll deal with it.”

  “Don’t leave town,” Ben said, frowning at him.

  “Yeah, yeah. I know the drill.” Lou sent him a scowl and stomped toward the exit, then stopped. “Are you done with my car yet?”

  “Yes. It’s parked out back.” Ben opened a drawer, pulled out the keys and tossed them to him.

  Lou caught them, sent Ben another look of disgust and strode out.

  Chance watched Lou go, poured himself a cup of coffee and sat opposite Ben. “I still think he’s our best bet. There was a plane ticket purchased online for Melanie from her computer, but he could have done that as easily as she.”

  “I know. And they could have hired Carl or someone else to do those burglaries. Though I can’t figure out what they wanted,” Ben said.

  “Maybe to see if there was any evidence pointing to them in either Cassie’s or John’s office.”

  “But why would anyone care where Cassie had changed locks? Surely that’s no reason to search her house or shoot at a person,” Ben grumbled.

  “True. Well, I’ll keep digging. Maybe something will turn up.”

  Chance went back to his office and updated his computer files on the case. Then Luke Kent, his Minneapolis contact, called.

  “We found your homeless guy,” he said. “He claims a bartender he knows asked him to sell the Rolex for a friend of his.”

  “Did you talk to the bartender? Show him the pictures I sent you?”

  “Yeah. He refused to identify any of them. Except saying the guy was tall. Said he didn’t remember much about that night because he’d had too much to drink.

  “He drank while working?”

  “No, he claimed it was his night off, so he could drink. Who knows? Might be the truth.”

  “I suppose.”

  “He said the guy sold him the Rolex swore it was expensive and told him he could make a quick buck if he sold it to a pawn shop. Assured him this was the real thing, not a knock-off. Even suggested the story about the watch belonging to his dad and it had a different name engraved on it because his mom remarried. The bartender was scared to do it himself, so paid the homeless guy to do it. Gave him a hundred and told him it was easy money.”

  “Yeah. Can’t blame him for wanting to make a few bucks. Thanks, Luke. I owe you one. Keep in touch.”

  “You bet.”

  Chance hung up and turned back to his computer, going over the bad loan list again.

  Digging further to find the people behind the corporations, he was surprised to find one of them was fully owned by Melanie Bales. And none of the loan had been paid back.

  Huh? The bank made a huge loan to one of the partners’ wives? And she didn’t pay it back? Didn’t the others know of this?

  Chance went on to Cassie’s list. Every job had been for someone local and none of the people she’d worked for was on their radar for anything criminal.

  Then he found one name on Cassie’s list that sounded familiar. He looked back at the bad loans list. Sure enough, it was there and was the same one that had led him back to Melanie Bales. Was that the connection to Cassie? Had they searched her house thinking she’d kept copies of the keys when she changed locks?

  Why had someone shot at her? Did they think she knew about the loans? Or could identify someone? Or were they trying to get him to back off by targeting her?

  And was that connected to the break in at June’s house? What was the burglar looking for? Something didn’t fit here. He couldn’t see Melanie burglarizing a house or shooting at them. But she could have hired Carl to break into June’s house as well as Cassie’s. That fit with the musk scent June had smelled.

  Had Carl also been the person who shot at them? If not, who?

  ***

  Lou Bales drove back to his house. When he pulled into his driveway, he was surprised to see a silver car parked in front of his house. He stopped and got out, noticing the other car had rental plates. Were his in-laws already here? If so, where were they? Had those damned cops left his house open so Melanie’s parents could get inside?

  With a sigh, he strode to the side door he always used. It was locked. He used his key, opened the door and walked into the kitchen.

  A tall, blonde woman stood at the sink, filling the coffee carafe with water. He sucked in a quick breath. His knees suddenly weak, he leaned on the counter for support. Melanie? How could that be? She was dead, wasn’t she?

  The woman swung toward him, staring, then closed the faucet and set down the half-filled container. “Lou? What are you doing here?”

  Lou let out his breath in a whoosh of relief. Thank God, it was only Anne.

  He raised an eyebrow and swallowed, then trying to sound nonchalant, said, “I live here. What’s your excuse?”

  She frowned. “I thought you were in jail.”

  “They released me. Nothing to hold me on.”

  She tipped her head in a questioning gesture. “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, really. How did you get in here, anyway?”

  “Melanie gave me a key the last time I visited.”

  Melanie had given her a key? He hadn’t realized they’d gotten along that well. “Why?”

  Anne shrugged. “We went different ways one afternoon and she knew I’d get back before she did. I forgot to return it before I left.”

  “Huh. What are you doing now?”

  “Our parents are in the living room. I’m about to make coffee for us. They had a long flight and they’re tired.”

  “You all came in one car?”

  “Yes, my flight got in earlier, so I rented a car and waited for them.”

  “
Why didn’t you all go to their cabin on the river?”

  Anne flipped her blonde hair behind her ear. “We will, after we go to the funeral home. There’s no food out at the cabin, so we have to go shopping first. And the pastor will be here soon to talk about the arrangements for the service.”

  Fury curled in his gut, but he tried to keep his voice calm and polite. “Arranging Melanie’s funeral is my job, not yours.”

  She shrugged and turned back to the sink to finish filling the carafe with water, then poured it into the coffeemaker. “I think we know a little more about planning a decent service than a non-church-goer does. We asked the funeral director to suggest a pastor, since we knew you and Melanie didn’t belong to a church.”

  He sighed. Whatever. He couldn’t blame them all for thinking that way, he supposed. It had been ages since he--or Melanie, for that matter--had set foot in a church. Still, they’d want a nice send-off for Melanie and he couldn’t deny them that, since he’d probably have little contact with them afterward. So be it.

  He pulled a serving tray from a lower cabinet, then reached into the upper cabinet for cups and saucers. And a plate for some cookies. He opened the big cookie jar on the counter and filled it with the coconut cookies Melanie always bought from the local bakery. She’d loved snacking on them—now she never would again.

  “I’ll take in the tray, you bring the coffee when it’s ready.” He swallowed hard, squared his shoulders and moved into the living room to face his in-laws. They’d never gotten along very well. Now, he’d quietly leave their lives, and they’d forget him. He could handle this for a couple more days, couldn’t he?

  Martha and Paul Benson sat on the beige leather sofa, side by side. Seeing them today with their faces so sad and grim made him realize they had aged in the six years since he and Melanie had married. Both had wrinkled faces and, unlike their daughters, they didn’t resort to coloring their white hair. Both sets of red-rimmed blue eyes swung to him as he entered the room.

  “Hello,” he greeted them and set the tray on the coffee table. “Anne will bring in the coffee as soon as it’s done.”

  Martha didn’t even return his greeting, just asked in a broken voice, “What happened to Melanie, Lou?”

  Tears welled in his eyes and again, he swallowed hard. “Didn’t the police tell you? Someone murdered her.”

  Martha nodded, tears running down her cheeks. “Yes, but I was too upset to ask for more details. How did she die?”

  Before Lou could reply, Anne came in with the coffee and poured it into their cups.

  “Someone bashed her head in,” she said grimly.

  When both Martha and Paul gasped, she at least had the grace to blush. “I’m sorry,” Anne went on. “But that’s what happened. No point in sugar-coating it. I saw a news report on my cell phone while I was waiting for your plane to come in. She was found in her car trunk, parked in your garage at the cabin on the river.”

  “Oh my God. At our house?” Martha sobbed aloud. Paul glared at his daughter, then hugged his wife. She hid her face in his shoulder.

  Lou sent Anne a nasty look. “You might have a little respect for your mother’s feelings.”

  “It would have been better if you’d had some thought about them before you killed Melanie,” she returned in a bitter voice.

  “What?” Paul gasped. “Lou, you didn’t…”

  “Of course not…” he snapped, sending Anne another death stare. “Anne is being her usual witchy self.”

  “Oh yeah?” She turned back to her parents. “Didn’t you hear? The police even locked him up. They only let him out because they don’t have enough evidence. Yet,” Anne added, sending him an equally frosty look.

  “You might remember you’re a guest in my house,” Lou returned in an icy tone. “Mind your manners or go somewhere else.”

  Anne picked up her coffee and sipped. “We’ll be out of here as soon as we’ve finished meeting with the pastor. He should be here any minute.” She looked at her watch and frowned. “In fact, he’s already late.”

  Martha sat up, her wide blue eyes staring at Lou. With trembling hands, she used some tissues to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. Then she picked up her coffee and gulped some down.

  “Maybe we should call the pastor and meet him at his office,” Paul said, wiping his own eyes and then drinking his coffee.

  Just then Anne’s phone rang. “Oh, yes, Pastor. We were just wondering why you were late…Oh, I see. Yes, of course, we can do that.” She turned the phone against herself and said, “He had an unexpected visitor and wants to know if he can see us later this evening instead. How about at the cabin?”

  Paul and Martha nodded, a relieved look on their faces.

  Anne lifted the phone again. “How about seven o’clock, at their cabin?...Yes that’ll be fine.”

  She gave him directions and hung up, then stood. “Why don’t we go now, then? I’ll take you to the cabin. You can rest a bit, while I get some takeout for supper, okay?”

  Melanie’s parents nodded, then finished their coffee and stood, telling Lou they’d let him know when the service would be held.

  “I hope it’s okay with you that we plan the service?” Martha asked.

  “Sure, go ahead,” Lou said quickly, cutting Anne off with a glare as she started to butt in. She closed her mouth and frowned. Lou turned back to Martha and added, “I’m sure whatever you plan will be appropriate. I’ll take care of all the expenses, of course.”

  “Thank you,” Martha replied.

  They said a nervous goodbye to Lou and went out to Anne’s rental car.

  Lou watched them leave, his mind in turmoil. His life was suddenly in a shambles. Melanie was gone and nothing would ever be the same again. She’d been the one to plan parties and keep them in a constant social whirl.

  It looked like her parents would forever blame him for Melanie’s death. How would he stand the next few days? At least he’d probably never have to see Anne again after she went back to wherever she lived now. Colorado, was it? Whatever.

  With a sigh, he glanced around the room. Fingerprint dust still marred the furniture surfaces. He pulled out his phone, called their cleaning lady and told her the problem.

  “I know it’s not your usual day to do our house, but could you fit us in soon?...Tomorrow would be great. Thanks so much.”

  ***

  The next afternoon, Chance called the Bensons and asked to see them. They agreed and he drove out to the cabin.

  Martha met him at the door. He identified himself and she invited him inside.

  The cabin was really a nice house, with comfortable, though lived-in looking furniture. It had obviously been cleaned since he had been here, since all the fingerprint dust had been removed.

  Paul rose to meet him in the living room and they shook hands. “Have a seat,” he said, indicating the chair matching the sofa. “Martha just made some coffee. She’ll get us some. Anne went into town for some supplies. She should be back soon.”

  In a minute, Martha returned with the coffee table, then poured them each a cup.

  “Thanks,” Chance said, taking a cup from her. “I just have a few questions.”

  “We’ll do anything we can to help put whoever did this behind bars,” Paul said. “What would you like to know?”

  “When was the last time you heard from Melanie? Phone call, email, anything?”

  “It was last Sunday, wasn’t it, Martha?”

  Martha nodded. “She liked to call on Sunday afternoons.”

  “Did she seem upset about anything?”

  “No, she just talked, like always. About shopping and entertaining and stuff like that.”

  Chance said, “Lou told us Melanie planned to fly to California the day she was killed. She’d told him she was going to help a sick aunt. Do you know who that would be?”

  Both of Melanie’s parents looked puzzled and shook their heads. “We don’t have any relatives in California that I know of,” Martha said.
“Are you sure she was really planning to go, or did he just say that to explain her disappearance?”

  “I don’t know. But a ticket to L A was purchased in her name, from her computer using her credit card.”

  Paul frowned. “That’s really no proof, is it? I mean, Lou could have done that, too.”

  Chance nodded. “Actually, anyone with access to her computer and credit card could have done it.”

  “I guess so.” Paul sipped some coffee. “Do we know when Melanie was killed yet?”

  “The medical examiner says it was early that morning, probably between six and eight.”

  “So, Lou is the most likely suspect, since she’d have been home with him at that time,” Paul said, glancing at his wife.

  “I suppose. He claims she was fine when they ate breakfast together about seven-thirty and he left for work.”

  “He could be lying,” Martha said, her voice ending on a sob. Paul patted her hand and nodded at Chance.

  “I agree,” Anne said, coming into the room. She’d apparently come in the back door through the kitchen and heard the end of the conversation. She had a coffee mug in her hand and filled it from the pot on the coffee table. “You can’t believe anything Lou says. I think he’s an awful man. He led Melanie into all those sinful ways.”

  “You don’t know that, Anne,” Martha admonished.

  “She was a good Christian until she married him.”

  “Melanie did choose him, you know. You need to respect her choices, even if they were different from ours.”

  Anne shot her a nasty look over the rim of her mug. She drank some coffee, then replied, “It’s all his fault. Melanie would never have gotten into group sex before she took up with him. You know she wouldn’t have, Mom.”

  Martha sighed and looked away. “That may be, but it was her choice, her life to live, not ours.”

  “You’re too lenient and forgiving.”

  “Maybe so, but that’s how I feel.” Martha frowned at her. “Remember, the Bible tells us to forgive and let God judge. Besides, this isn’t the time or place to discuss it, Anne.”

  “Okay, Mom.” Anne turned to Chance. “How did anyone discover her body anyway, if it was locked in her car trunk and out here in the garage? Nobody should have been here.”