“Do you have the footage?”
Jimmy shook his head and took a seat.
“Did they let you watch it at least?” Sara asked. Her long nails dug into the cardboard cup deep enough to leave impressions.
Sean reached for one hand. The way she released her grip on the cup, she must have picked up on what she had been doing.
“What did you see?”
“I saw our victim.”
“Victim? So you’re with us on this now? You don’t think he jumped or that it was some sort of accident?”
“Not at all. Someone placed a CD case on the store’s shelf. Our victim picked it up. The one who put it there wasn’t a pro by any means, but they kept watching over their shoulder like they knew they were being taped.”
“They? A man or woman?” Sean asked.
“A man.”
Sara wiped her brow. The coffee must have been making her warm. “Anything stand out about him?”
“Not a lot. He had an average face, but when he reached out to place the case, there was a tattoo on the top of his wrist.”
Something was pressing in the back of Sean’s mind, like he should know the correlation. Why did the thought of a tattoo strike him as something that was important? Then he remembered. He let go of Sara’s hand and leaned toward Jimmy. “Was it an eagle with spread wings?”
“How did you know?”
Sara’s eyes lit up and she slapped Sean on the arm. Sean laughed. She definitely needed to lay off the caffeine.
“I take it that the two of you know who this is?” Jimmy asked.
Both of them nodded.
“He was in the room where everyone was giving their statements,” Sean said.
“All right, so now all we have to do is ask the officers if they remember anyone fitting that description.”
“You said he kept looking over his shoulder?” Sara asked.
“I did.”
“That tells me our guy doesn’t have a record. Although he thought he was being taped, he wasn’t too worried about being identified. If he was, he wouldn’t have kept facing the camera. He would have avoided it.”
“That was my thought. Another possibility is he didn’t think the investigation would go this far. You know what it’s like sometimes. The caseload is heavy and, while finding the truth—justice and all that—is important, sometimes it can be superseded by the powers that be in a rush to close a case.”
“I don’t miss that.” Sara’s voice was low as she made her feelings known.
“It is, sadly, one of the aspects I dislike myself.”
Sean wasn’t going to watch while Jimmy beat himself up, as if he were a bad cop. The man was anything but. He was committed to the job and to the people of the community. It was time for a diversion. “So, this guy in the video planted the CD, and Jerrod came in after.”
“Yep, twenty-one minutes later according to the timestamp.”
“All right, talk to the officers and let us know a name and where we can find the guy.” Sean motioned to get up but stopped when Jimmy spoke.
“There’s another thing. Sara, there was one guy who was really disappointed that it was me and not you. In fact, it wasn’t even supposed to be his day to work, and when he found out you weren’t coming, he went home, claiming he was sick.”
“Ah, isn’t that too bad. I hope Collin feels better soon.” Sara smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind an ear.
Sean wrapped his arm around her and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I can’t say as I blame the poor guy. You were probably the highlight of his week—heck, his month, his year. You are the highlight of my life.”
“Oh please, you two. Get a room would you,” Jimmy teased as he got up to leave.
Making The Introduction
JIMMY SPOKE TO THE OFFICERS who had taken the statements, in hopes of finding their average-looking man with an eagle tattoo. It didn’t take long to get their answer. His name was Andres Malone.
Sean and Sara were outside his rental townhouse, but it had almost been the three of them. Somehow, Sean had managed to win the debate with Jimmy as to whether he would join them or not. While Jimmy had claimed it was a police matter, Sean had pointed out that they had technically ruled on the case.
Jimmy had countered with “And since when do you think like a politician?” But reality had been etched in his face. Turning around and actively investigating a closed case wouldn’t make a good impression on either the media or the higher-ups. He had let out a deep sigh then, and added his words of caution. “I’d feel better if you had a gun.”
“Jimmy, wasn’t the point of having one never to use it?” Sara had smiled at him, which worked to soften his expression and turn him into malleable clay.
Sean didn’t have any doubt as to why Sara got away with a lot more than he did when they reported to Jimmy—her smile could melt the arctic, let alone men’s hearts.
“Just promise me no one dies today.”
“We promise,” Sean answered on the behalf of both of them.
They had been delayed a few more seconds, but then Jimmy had handed over the information.
Sean glanced over at Sara now, to see if she was ready to go.
She closed the visor mirror. “You have to admit, there’s a bit of security that comes with having a gun.”
“But it can also create a situation that doesn’t need to be there. This way we don’t approach Andres as a threat. He’ll view us as average citizens.” Sean hoped Andres didn’t recognize them from the conference room at the mall.
“I just wonder how he got messed up in all this. Jimmy confirmed he doesn’t have a record.”
“That could just mean that he hasn’t gotten caught yet.”
They rang the doorbell and waited. There weren’t any sounds coming from inside, and it had Sean wondering if they should have headed to Andres’ work instead. No sooner had the thought gone through his mind and he heard the creaking of the floor boards—someone was approaching the door.
The curtain in the front window was pushed back. A man happened to catch eyes with Sean and quickly pulled out of view.
The deadbolt clunked and the door opened.
“Who are you?” His eyes traveled over Sean but lingered on Sara.
Due to his interest in her, she answered. “I’m Sara, and this is my husband, Sean.”
“You’re married? To him?”
Sean stiffened. “We’re looking for Andres Malone.”
“Why?”
“It’s a private matter we’d like to discuss with him,” Sara said.
The man’s eyes darted from Sara to Sean.
Sean noticed the tattoo on his wrist as he held the door. “Seems we found him, Sara.”
“Still doesn’t explain why you’re on my front step. You’re not cops and I ain’t done nothing wrong.” Andres shifted to the left, then to the right, to see past them.
“Can we come in?”
“I don’t think—” Andres launched himself out the door, springing down the steps two at a time.
Sean pounced on him, pinning Andres to the walkway.
“Get off me.” Andres struggled beneath Sean’s weight, but when he must have sensed his efforts were futile, he stopped moving. “Fine. I’ll talk to you.”
“More like it.” Sean got up, keeping one hand latched around Andres’ wrist. He spun him in the direction of the house and shoved him forward.
Talking It Out
ACCORDING TO THE FILE, ANDRES Malone lived alone. He kept the place immaculate. Everything had its place, and the air smelled of freshly washed floors and carpet powder.
“What do you want?” Andres gestured to a couch and flumped into a sofa chair.
“We want to ask you questions about Groovin’ Beat.” Sara analyzed him when she made the statement. Andres’ instinct was to avoid her eyes—she caught the flicker—but he stayed his gaze.
He shrugged. “What about it?”
“You brought in a CD case and put i
t on the shelf. Why?”
“Who are you guys? Are you with store security? I didn’t steal anything. Like you just said, I left something.”
“Our interest is in what you left.”
“It wasn’t a bomb.”
Sara noticed Andres’ defensiveness. Anything they said was met by a reaction that pit them against him. As long as they kept approaching this like a case, Andres was going to clam up.
She smiled at him. She was hoping that Jimmy’s claim about her expression held true and that she did hold power over men with it.
Andres smiled back, but his awkwardness was apparent. He was more shook up than he wanted to let on, but he wasn’t directly involved with Jerrod going over the railing. If he was, he’d likely be high or drinking right now, and his fear of cops never would have allowed him to open the door.
Of course, maybe she was making the assumption of his innocence too quickly. The house could have been tidy as the result of an obsessive compulsion, one spurned along to silence the voices of guilt.
“What was it?” Sean asked.
“It was a CD case.”
“We know that much. What was in it? Why were you leaving one instead of buying one?”
“What is this, twenty questions? You haven’t even told me what you really want. You’re not from the store are you? How did you find me?” Andres’ cheek was twitching.
Sara observed something beneath the surface, a nervous energy, but he was doing well holding himself together. While they had decided not to start the conversation with Jerrod’s death because panic would have set the tone, it was time the subject was broached.
Sean must have thought the same thing. “The man who died at the mall picked up the CD not long after you left it,” he said. “We have reason to believe—”
“No. It had nothing to do with his death. I didn’t do it anyway.”
“But you know who did?” Sara spoke softly, but Andres didn’t respond, so she continued. “What was on the disc? If might help us get to the bottom of all this.”
Andres shook his head wildly. “Not going to happen. I don’t even really know, all right.”
“Which is it? You know or you don’t know?”
“I never saw it for myself.”
“So you dropped off something for Jerrod. That was the man’s name.”
Andres’ face contorted and tears fell. “I didn’t kill him, okay. I wouldn’t hurt a fly. I hate disorder.”
“You’re covering for someone else,” Sean said.
He received a small bob of the head in response.
“Who?”
“I’m not saying anything. This person…if they killed that guy, what’s to stop them from killing me?”
Sara gazed at Sean, hoping to get his attention. Andre Malone may have planted the disc, but she believed his pleas of innocence when it came to Jerrod’s death. She also believed that Andres was in the middle of whatever this was and didn’t have exact knowledge about its significance. Another thing she believed was that Andres had become fearful for his own survival.
Sara couldn’t blame him. She sensed something else too, Andres knew this person he protected, and, even though he believed in their ability to kill, was still in denial. It was these two factors—fear and loyalty—that kept his lips sealed. If they were going to find out who was behind this, they weren’t getting that from Andres.
Taking Names
THEY WALKED BACK TO THE car, and Sean could feel eyes on them. It would be more than Andres watching after them. Their Mercedes didn’t exactly blend into this neighborhood.
“Andres knows who is behind all of this, but he’s not going to say a word,” Sean said as he closed Sara’s door.
With him behind the wheel, Sara replied. “I agree, darling. And he’s both afraid of, and loyal to, this person.”
“It also has me thinking…you know how we believe that Jerrod must have been involved in a crime and someone was holding it over him? We should ask Nicole for specific names of people who didn’t care for her husband.” The idea sounded brilliant until he saw the reflection in her eyes. “Yeah, I guess that’s a hard one to ask a widow, but it’s necessary. I know we have already asked, but we met with a summation, no specifics.”
“True. I did it all the time with the day job, but Nicole is a friend. The victim was her husband.”
Sean turned toward Sara and took her hands. “You’re stronger than you realize. You’ve got this.” He smiled at her, and her lips twitched in response, like she wanted to form the expression but couldn’t quite bring herself to do so.
“You are right.”
“Can you say that one more time so I can—” He maneuvered like he was going to pull his cell out to record her.
“Since when are we like this?”
“We’re an old married couple now. It’s time to start the scoreboard.”
She angled her head to the side, her one brow arched up farther than the other. “Are you sure you want to go there?” She laughed, unable to keep the straight face.
“No, I really don’t, but at least all of this put a smile on your face.”
She smirked and ran a hand down his arm. “You can always do that.”
“Because when I look at you, you make it easy.”
Sean put the car into gear and headed over to see the Townsends.
Shelly Townsend answered the door, her expression at seeing them reflected neither happiness nor disdain. The woman had progressed to indifference. “She’s in the living room.”
“Thank you,” Sara said.
“Uh-huh.” The bolt thunked in place behind them.
What would it take for this woman to forgive her one transgression? And what was the crime anyhow? Missing one event in her daughter’s life? Even though it was a monumental one, she had a good reason. Sara was tired of wearing the heavy cloak of guilt. It was time for Mrs. Townsend to leave the past where it belonged—the past.
Nicole was curled up on the couch, beneath a blanket, with a paperback in her hands. She stuck her thumb between its pages and lowered the book when she saw them. “Sara. What are you doing here? Did you find something out?” She peeked past Sara, her eyes tracing to Sean.
“We have actually,” he answered.
“Oh?” Nicole watched Sara as she took a seat beside her. She shifted her position to place her feet on the floor. The blanket remained draped over her lap.
Sara let the sound of surprise in Nicole’s voice wash over her. It didn’t necessarily reflect her disbelief in their abilities. She may not have expected answers so soon, especially in the wake of being told by the police that there wasn’t evidence of foul play.
“What did you find out?” Nicole scanned Sara’s eyes.
She didn’t want to go into all of it—the part about the bribery, suspicions of her husband’s wrongdoing. It was all still that—suspicions. Until they had the disc in their possession, or evidence that money traded hands, there would be no way to know for sure.
“Do you know an Andres Malone?” Sara asked.
Nicole’s chin pressed in, causing small dimples to appear. She shook her head. “Never heard of him.”
“What about a man with an eagle tattoo on his wrist?” Sean interjected. He had remained standing.
“No. I’m sorry.”
Sara reached for Nicole’s free hand. “You don’t have to be sorry. I know this is rough. I can only imagine, but we need names of people who were jealous of Jerrod’s advancement at the firm, or had other reasons to dislike him.”
“That could include the entire floor, maybe more. It’s a competitive environment. Anyone who is anyone wants to be promoted to managing partner. Not to mention, with the position he was given firing authority.”
Had they been considering this from a slightly skewed angle? Maybe it wasn’t someone currently within the firm but one that Jerrod had gotten rid of.
“Who did he let go recently?” Sean asked, revealing he must have thought along the same
lines as her.
“I don’t know. Again, I’m sorry.” Nicole adjusted her position, straightening out her back against the couch. “I can give you some names. Maybe it’ll be of help. I would just find it to be such a shock, you know? Someone he worked with every day hating him enough to kill him?”
Sara considered coming out with their suspicions, but sided with their original decision to hold it back as long as possible. “Just do your best to write down some names and leave the rest to us.” Sara smiled at her friend and felt radiating support coming from Sean. What would she ever do if something happened to him?
Firelight Epiphany
THE SUN HAD SET AND the chill in the air spoke of winter, not fall. It wasn’t much of a stretch of imagination to envision snowflakes falling down.
Their first fire of the year was dancing in the fireplace, but Sara missed the smell and sound of crackling wood. Modern convenience and cleanliness had squashed out the primitive way of doing things—even if the old way was better.
Before heading home, they had provided the list of names to Jimmy, hoping he would get to it sooner rather than later.
Settled into the living room, Sara snuggled in to Sean on the sofa, trying to derive warmth from him.
More than the weather had plummeted the temperature of her core. It was probably just the deep thinking that this investigation brought to her. It made her more aware of their mortality.
Her head must have felt heavy on his shoulder, as he adjusted his position frequently. This time he maneuvered so he could see her. “What are you thinking, darling?”
She pulled her eyes from the flames. “Jerrod must have done something wrong. There’s no other explanation for the disc unless it was leverage of some sort.”
“Maybe he just wanted a recent album.” He offered his words with a subtle smile.
“You think you’re funny.” She smirked at him. “If only there was a way to find out what was on there.”
“What makes you think that he was being bribed about something and not buying information?”
Shopping is Murder (McKinley Mysteries Book 6) Page 7