Fallacy (Detective Jade Monroe 3)

by C. M. Sutter

  The newscaster went on to recap what had happened at St. John’s Church and showed scenes from earlier that day.

  Alice grabbed the remote, hit the off button, then threw it. The remote hit the wall and shattered, and the batteries rolled across the floor.

  “Now how am I going to watch TV?” Mariah whined and punched the ottoman.

  “Bring the remote down from the bedroom, you idiot. It’s exactly like the one Mama just broke.”

  Alice glared at Mandy. “You know, I’ve almost had enough of you, Mandy Jean. Now shut up and start cleaning the workshop.”

  “Sure, why not? Anything is better than being around you two.” Mandy stormed out the door and slammed it at her back.

  Alice pulled the curtain aside and watched as Mandy crossed the driveway and kicked open the workshop door. “Go help your sister, Mariah. I’ll be out in a bit. We’ll drop the cars off in Slinger later. I have to think things over. We may be lying low for a while.”

  Chapter 42

  We gathered back at the station in the lunchroom and watched the breaking news. Every news channel in southeast Wisconsin covered our press conference and showed the photograph of the unidentified young woman caught on the apartment’s parking lot camera.

  “That should ring some bells,” Clayton said as he dropped four quarters into the soda machine. An icy can of white soda tumbled down to the hinged door, and Clayton pulled it out and popped the tab.

  Billings nodded. “With any luck, the phones will start ringing soon.”

  “What if these people are hermits, recluses in a way, and nobody knows them?” Jack said.

  “Somebody knows them, maybe not by name, but that girl’s face has to be familiar to someone. They have to buy groceries, get gas, and see a doctor now and then, don’t they?”

  Jason popped his head around the door. “Hey, guys, just wanted to let you know the tox report came back for David Smith.”

  “And?” I asked.

  “And he’s clean. No drugs or alcohol of any kind, induced or taken voluntarily.”

  I rubbed my temples as I spoke. “John Doe had a large dose of antifreeze in his system, and David had nothing. That’s telling me John’s family had privacy, time, and the convenience of letting him die a slow death right in his own home. I bet the tox reports on our latest vics will come back clean too.” I glanced hopefully at Jason. “Did you guys make a positive ID yet?”

  “Yeah, we’re almost one hundred percent sure. According to the height, weight, hair and eye color, and any markings the wives could remember, they’re the missing husbands. Short of showing the wives their bodies—”

  I interrupted, “You don’t want to do that, Jason. It will scar them for life, I guarantee it.”

  He nodded. “I agree. The DNA profile is almost complete. That will give us the definitive results and answers the families need. I’ll let you know as soon as we do.”

  “Thanks, Jason, appreciate it.” I looked across the table at Horbeck and Jamison. “How are you two holding up? I know you didn’t get much sleep.”

  Horbeck shrugged. “I’m good.” He looked at Jamison. “Want some coffee?”

  Jamison laughed. “Yeah, and make it strong.”

  “Okay, did you guys put a BOLO out on the cars?”

  Jamison nodded. “Yep, we did it as soon as the wives gave us the descriptions.” He pulled out his notepad. “Larry Taylor has a 2010 red Ford Focus, and John Leiter has a 2014 black Toyota 4Runner.”

  “Okay, thanks, guys. No hits, though, right?”

  Horbeck responded, “No hits.”

  “I’m going to talk to Kyle and Dan. If they haven’t gone through those receipts yet, I will.”

  “We can give you a hand with that, Jade. We’re going to be sitting around waiting for the phones to ring, anyway,” Billings said.

  I smiled. “Sounds good.”

  I took the hallway back to the entrance of the building, where the steps led to the lower level. Kyle and Dan were going through the photographs they took earlier at the church. I knew they’d be preoccupied for some time. They were working with the crime lab at the PD as well. Between both departments, they had scoured a five-block radius around the church. Anything that seemed out of place was brought back to the crime lab. They both looked up when I walked through the door.

  “Jade, how’s it going on your end? We heard you had a little run-in with a green pickup.”

  “Word travels fast. I wish we would have had a run-in, but those suckers managed to slip past a twenty-ton locomotive that was barreling down the tracks right at them. That in itself tells me they have no regard for human life.”

  Kyle whistled. “Wow, that’s insane.”

  “You think? Did you guys ever do anything with those receipts found in David Smith’s car?”

  “Yeah, we fingerprinted them. His were the only consistent prints on them. I guess the rest would be from the drive-through window attendant. We didn’t go beyond that.”

  “Do you mind if I take them? I’d like to see if the dates and times mean anything. Also, if he ordered a meal for two on any of those receipts, we can go back and see if the restaurant has him on video.”

  “That’s smart,” Kyle said.

  “Do you remember if they were all from the same fast-food restaurant?”

  “Yeah, they were all from Danny’s Kwik Serve on West Washington Street.”

  “I suppose that makes sense. It’s on his route coming into, or leaving from, North Bend.”

  Kyle grabbed the brown paper evidence bag off the shelf to his left. He double-checked the contents written in black Magic Marker on the side. “Yep, this is it.”

  “Thanks, Kyle.” I turned and headed back upstairs to the bull pen.

  Over the next hour, we documented the time and date of each receipt as well as what was ordered. It didn’t appear that David ever had anybody with him. Each time he ordered, it was a number two, four, or six on the full-sized meal menu. That was some type of sandwich, fries, and drink.

  “Okay, are we done?” I asked as Billings and Jack finished the stack they were working on. The date furthest back was six months ago, and the most recent was the day before he died. The times of day varied dramatically. I attributed that to his inconsistent work schedule. After we compared receipts and tried to come up with anything that would give us an aha moment, we still had nothing.

  “That was useless,” Jack said. He groaned and stretched back in his chair.

  “Yeah, but we had to be sure. I still have the post office receipt. I’ll check that out tomorrow. Jack?”

  “Yep.” He glanced up from the papers scattered across his desk.

  “What’s up with your car? Did they put the new tire on it yet? There’s been so much commotion around here and—”

  Jack waved me off. “Don’t worry about it. Mike from the shop called and said they dropped it off in my driveway. I told them where to put the key. It’s all good.”

  Billings stared at Jack. “Where did you take your car?”

  “To Mike’s Corner Service down the street from my house—why?”

  Billings shuffled through the folder on his desk with the names of the garages, tire companies, and big-box stores that did automotive repair. “Mike’s Corner Service wasn’t on my list. Clayton?”

  Clayton pulled out his folder. After Jack and I bailed on that task, Clayton and Billings took over finishing up the phone calls. Clayton scratched his head and looked again. “Nope, not on my list, either. How did that place get past us?”

  Jack groaned. “That’s my oversight. Mike owns a small corner gas station with a repair shop in the back. He doesn’t even advertise. Everyone in the neighborhood knows him, and he gets plenty of business. I’ll give him a quick call and ask if he sells those BFGoodrich tires.”

  We watched with bated breath, eager to hear the answer. Jack dialed his neighborhood service station.

  “Hey, Mike, it’s Jack Steele.” He paused for a moment and lis
tened. “Uh-huh, yeah, thanks a lot, appreciate it. I have a question for you that I should have thought of a few days back. Do you guys carry or purchase for the customer BFGoodrich All-Terrain truck tires?” Jack tapped his fingers on his desk as he waited for a response, then perked up in his chair. “You do? I’ll owe you one, but I have to know if you’ve sold those tires to a man named Dean or a woman named Alice in the last two years. Sure, I’ll hold.” Jack gave us a grin and a thumbs-up as we all waited for Mike to check his records. “Yep, I’m here.” Jack grabbed his pen and began writing on the back of a conveniently placed envelope sitting on his desk. “Uh-huh, I’ll be damned. We’ll be there in ten minutes. I owe you a beer, dude. Thanks.” Jack hung up and pushed back his chair. “I think we’ve finally got a last name. An Alice Blakely paid by money order for a set of those tires in January. Let’s go check his records.”

  I grabbed my purse, cell phone, and notepad. “I’ll tell Clark we’re leaving. We aren’t positive it’s her, but what are the odds? Great job, guys.” I informed Clark of the potential lead and said we were heading out. We’d be back within the hour.

  Chapter 43

  Jack drove while I texted Amber. Without knowing if she was in a class or not, I thought a text was a better choice than a phone call. I was sure, knowing how much she loved Spaz, she had checked up on him over the phone at least once, maybe twice. As far as I knew, she was still scheduled to pick him up tomorrow.

  “We should stop at my house first. I’ll grab my own car so you don’t have to drive me home later.”

  “Makes sense,” I said as he turned down his street and pulled up along the curb.

  It took only a few minutes for him to grab his car key from under the flowerpot at his front door and climb into his Charger. He led the way the few blocks to Mike’s Corner Service.

  The oversized garage doors were open, and one car was on a lift. Two men worked on the muffler in the steaming-hot space. The blades of several large wall-mounted fans whirred as they blew across the room in an effort to cool the area.

  The man nearest the overhead garage door noticed us walking toward him. He pulled a shop rag out of his back pocket and wiped his brow. “Looking for Mike?”

  Jack responded that we were.

  “He’s in the back. Go on inside where there’s air conditioning. I’ll tell him he has company.”

  Jack and I entered the small waiting area. Two vinyl-covered chairs lined the wall, and a soda vending machine stood directly opposite them. Across from the entry door stood a counter with three tall file cabinets behind it. A rack of cigarette choices and a lottery terminal sat on the counter, and hanging from a nail on the wall was a calendar showing a scantily dressed young lady lying across the hood of a muscle car. The back door opened, and Mike entered the waiting area.

  “Jack.” He held out his hand and shook Jack’s.

  “I don’t think you’ve actually met my partner, Sergeant Jade Monroe,” Jack said. “She gave me a ride when I dropped the car off, but she didn’t come inside. Jade, this is Mike Chandler.”

  I extended my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mike.”

  “Likewise. Anyway, here is a copy of the receipt for the tires you asked about. It’s dated January seventeenth of this year. I have a notation in the margin that it was paid with a money order and made a copy of it. Usually we run credit cards, and on occasion we’ll accept checks if we know the customer. I had never seen this woman before, but a money order is as good as cash, so I went ahead.”

  We looked at the receipt for four tires paid by an Alice Blakely. The total came to $1,067.82.

  “This looks like a post office money order, so I guess that’s going to be our next stop. No sense in waiting until tomorrow. Can you think of anything else, Jack?”

  “Nope, that’s all we need. I just can’t believe we got this lucky. Thanks, Mike. Always a pleasure.”

  “See you, Jack. Nice meeting you, Jade.”

  I shook Mike’s hand once more, and we walked out to the bright concrete area where the gas pumps and four parking spots were. I shielded my eyes as I stood next to the cruiser.

  “Want to go to the post office together?” I checked the time on my watch—4:30. “The service counter closes in thirty minutes, and it’s likely we’ll have to talk to the postmaster. I doubt if a counter person can help us.” I pulled out the receipt I had stashed in my notepad. “I need to find out what this is about too. It’s dated the day before David was found, and the parcel was insured. Somebody had to sign something, didn’t they?”

  “Go ahead, but I’m thinking we’re going to get a hand in the face without a warrant,” Jack said. “See if your sweet nature will get you anywhere. Meanwhile, I’ll talk to Clark about it, and I’ll get Todd and Billy on the names Dean and Alice Blakely. Wouldn’t that be nice if an address pops?”

  “I’d say. Okay, I’ll see you back at the station.”

  I got in the cruiser and drove the six blocks to the post office. I had to detour down several alternate streets since much of the area around St. John’s was still blocked off. The closest spot I could find was two blocks from the post office on Elm. I walked the rest of the way, giving my watch another glance. Only ten minutes was left before the doors to the service counter would be locked for the day. The large antebellum-style red brick building with its massive columns stood directly ahead. I took the eight granite steps to the front double doors. A lobby lay ahead of me with wall-to-wall murals of old North Bend. Growing up, I’d always loved this building, but there was no time to reflect. The doors were about to be locked.

  The only remaining counter clerk looked up. “Ma’am, we’re about to close. Unless you need a book of stamps or something quickly, we—”

  I flashed my badge to silence her. “Is the postmaster in?”

  “I’m afraid not, officer. He spends time at each of the county’s post offices, not just here. He returns to North Bend next Tuesday.”

  “That won’t do. Can he access records from any post office to another one?”

  “I’m afraid not. We like to keep things uncomplicated.” She forced a smile.

  “Where is he going to be tomorrow and what’s his name?”

  “One moment.” The clerk accessed the postmaster’s weekly calendar on her terminal. “It looks like he’s in Germantown tomorrow.”

  “Do I need an appointment to meet with him, and his name is?”

  “Oh, sorry. The postmaster is James McHenry, and yes, you’d need an appointment.”

  “Okay, set that up, please.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Call him and set it up. I’ll wait.”

  “It doesn’t work that way, ma’am.”

  “Then what way does it work? I’m sure you have a phone number for him somewhere, don’t you?” I’d almost had enough of her, and my patience was wearing thin.

  “I mean, he’s likely gone for the day.”

  “Good, call his personal number, now, please. Neither of us is leaving this building until I have an appointment with the postmaster.” I looked at her name badge. “Understood, Gail?”

  She huffed but complied. “Yes, ma’am.”

  I walked out of the post office with a ten o’clock appointment with Postmaster McHenry tomorrow in Germantown. Meanwhile, I was hoping Clark could expedite a warrant.

  Back at the car, I dropped into the driver’s seat and headed for the sheriff’s department. I wanted to exchange our most current information before I left for the day.

  I called Jack’s desk phone as I drove. “Hey, partner, could you be a sweetheart and make some coffee? I’m about ready to crash.”

  “That’s why my ears were burning. You were thinking about me, weren’t you?” He chuckled into the phone.

  “Yeah, sure, if that’s how you want to play it. To be honest, I was thinking about strong, black coffee.”

  “It’s already brewing, and there will be a cup on your desk in five minutes.”

  “Bless yo
u, my child.” I hung up and stepped on the gas.

  Chapter 44

  Alice sat on a folding chair and watched the twins at work. Most of the flies and stench were gone after they’d sprayed the workshop with insect killer and closed the doors for an hour.

  Mandy got off her knees and stood. She carried the bucket of red water out to the weeds and dumped it, then refilled the bucket with fresh, clear water from the spigot on the outside wall of the workshop.

  “Mariah is barely doing anything,” Mandy said as she passed her mother with the bucket in hand. “She’s just going through the motions. She dumps one bucket to my three.” Mandy scowled at her sister and pulled off the rubber gloves that went to her elbows. The triangle-folded bandana covering her forehead and tied at the nape of her neck was loosening. She grabbed the knotted ends and gave them a pull, then put her gloves back on.

  “If you’d help Mama as much as I do, maybe you’d get special treatment too. Right, Mama?”

  Alice smiled at Mariah. “That’s right, sweet pea. Mandy can finish up here. I want you to bury those cell phones back by the swamp.”

  “All three of them?”

  “That’s right, all three.”

  Mariah removed her blood-stained yellow gloves, snickered at Mandy, and trotted off.