by Diane Meier
“Nope, he’s lived here all his life. He was a lifeguard as a teenager. He learned how to handle tourists that way. They’re pretty stupid out in the ocean. They go too far or they’re getting pulled out by the riptides. He understands that the town depends on tourists and he treats them with respect. He’s good with all the bicycle cops that work in the summer.”
“I’ve seen those guys. I prefer a nice air conditioned car myself.”
Matt smiled. “Yeah, I do too, actually.”
Aidan switched back to the matter at hand. “So, we’ve got a woman killer. I hadn’t imagined that. I think of women only resorting to murder in domestic disputes.”
“I do, too,” said Matt thoughtfully. “Maybe Randolph was killed by a woman who he dated.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
They walked into the Rehoboth Realty office. The man at the front desk looked up and was clearly surprised to see a couple of cops. “We’re looking for Cassie Deaver. Is she around?” asked Matt. Cassie came out of her office. “Welcome, welcome. Are you
looking for a house?”
“No, we just have a few questions for you about the SPCA,” said
Matt.
“Of course. Please come into the conference room.” Cassie was
a very well preserved woman of about 60. She must never have spent
much time working on a tan at the beach. Her skin didn’t have that
leathery look of some older women who hadn’t known to use sunscreen back in the day. She was dressed in a snappy red business
suit that showed she had done well in Rehoboth real estate. “Ms. Deaver, I’m Matt Thomas with the Rehoboth Police and
this is Aidan Putnam with the state troopers. Since you’re on the
SPCA Board, we’re hoping you can shed a little light on who might
have wanted to harm Gary Randolph.”
No Kill Station “I really don’t know much. I only saw him at Board meetings and fundraisers.”
“We hear that you had some issues with how Randolph managed the SPCA.”
“Yes, I did because I don’t think he was straight with us about revenues and costs. I always felt that that the financial reports were designed to confuse us. I’m in business. I understand contracts and finances. The SPCA reports were a mess frankly. He ignored any suggestions on how to make the reports more clear so we could understand what was happening there.”
“Were you angry about it?” asked Aidan.
“More frustrated than angry.”
“Do you think that Randolph was doing anything illegal? Something that might have gotten him involved with dangerous people?” asked Aidan.
“I don’t know. To be honest, I just thought he was stupid. He couldn’t seem to bring in donors. Of course the Board is also supposed to do that. It was tougher than it should have been because Gary was so obnoxious on Facebook to anyone who criticized the SPCA. There were a lot of complaints about him. The rest of the Board didn’t seem to care much. I couldn’t persuade him to stop that crap.”
“Do you know anyone who might have wanted to harm Randolph? Maybe some of those critics?”
“No, I don’t think I can give you any names. I didn’t follow much of the online debate. It just seemed endless. I have so many other things to do.”
“Can you tell us where you were on the night of the murder, Ms. Deaver?” asked Aidan.
“Ah, the big question. I was at the Rotary Club meeting and went out for drinks with some of the business owners. So I have plenty of people to vouch for me,” she said with a smile. “They say I have a killer instinct in real estate development, which I take as a compliment, but I’m not actually big on killing people.”
She doesn’t seem too broken up about Randolph’s death, thought Matt. But she clearly was not the killer. “That’s where Doug Sasso said he was. Did you see him?”
“Oh yes, one can’t miss Doug Sasso,” she said. “He was there. He doesn’t exactly make friends for the SPCA because he acts like a complete ass.”
Matt smiled. “That certainly sounds like Doug Sasso.”
“Have I answered all your questions?” Cassie Deaver asked politely. “I want to help as much as I can. Murder doesn’t help our town’s image at all.”
She’s really on the same wavelength as the Mayor. “Yes, thank you,” said Matt.
They got up to leave and Cassie handed them each her card. “If you ever want to look at some houses, please come see me.”
When they got back to the street, Matt said, “I have to doubt that Randolph was reporting the dog sales as revenues.”
“No, I would think not. I wonder why they didn’t fire him if they thought he was screwing up the SPCA finances.”
“That’s a good question. But I think we can assume Cassie Deaver didn’t kill him. From what the Mayor says the rest of the SPCA Board loved him.”
“Let’s go talk to the other women. I’m pretty curious about them,” said Aidan. “I keep trying to imagine who would go out with this guy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Matt and Aidan walked toward the beach. Rehoboth Act Up was just past 2nd Street. It was a year-round restaurant that was very popular with both tourists and locals, particularly the drag show. It was a gift from the gay community that kept on giving. The food was good too. He hadn’t brought Henry there but occasionally he went after work with Jay and some of the summer bicycle cops. They walked up to the bar and sat down.
The bartender came right over. “What can I get you gents?” she asked.
She was in her twenties and very pretty. Hard to imagine why she went out with a guy who was decades older. “Are you by any chance Angela Bannon?” asked Matt.
“Yes,” she said. “Is anything wrong?”
“We just want to ask a few questions about Gary Randolph. We understand that you dated him,” said Aidan.
“Oh, it’s about Gary,” she said with relief.
People always seemed to assume that they were in trouble, Matt thought. “How long were you dating him?” asked Matt.
“I wouldn’t call it dating. We went out twice. He was a big spender and I felt like having a couple nice dinners. That sounds awful. But he was a little pushy on the second date. It was like I owed him something. I had no interest in that. I guess I shouldn’t have gone out with him at all. After the second date, he came here when I was working and told people that we were sleeping together. That was irritating as hell. I refused to go out with him again. He didn’t take that very well.”
“What did he do?” asked Matt.
“He was stalking me. I couldn’t do anything about him being at the bar but he followed me twice after the bar closed. I had to ask our bouncer to start walking me to the car. Then Gary showed up at my apartment drunk one night and tried to come in. I closed the door in his face and told him that I’d get a restraining order if he came near me again.”
“That was smart. Did he bother you anymore after that?” asked Aidan.
“Nope. I haven’t seen him since.”
Matt felt they had to ask. “Where were you on the night he was murdered?”
“Right here, tending bar, as my time card will prove.”
“Thank you,” said Matt. “We appreciate you taking the time to talk with us.”
“No problem,” said Angela. “I guess I better take care of my other customers if you don’t want anything.”
“Thanks” Matt said as he got up from the bar stool. Aidan was still sitting and looking at her like he wanted to talk more. “Aidan, let’s go.”
Out on the sidewalk, Aidan said, “I’ll have to go back there soon.”
“I wonder why,” laughed Matt.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“L
et’s go find the next woman who made the mistake of dating Randolph,” said Matt. They walked past the closed tee shirt stand and the gift shops to the end of the Rehoboth Avenue where the gazebo stood in the center of a little circle. Matt often brought H
enry to the summer concerts at the gazebo. Military bands and old time rock and roll were Henry’s favorites. The crowd was happy and actually listened to the music. The adults were tired from a day at the beach and the little kids danced and ran around. Sometimes the teenagers were a problem, but they were easily handled with warnings.
Candy Central was at the end of Rehoboth Avenue. Matt and Aidan went up to the counter where rows of chocolates were in the glass case to lure candy lovers. During the summer the place was jammed so there could be quite a wait for service even though the staff was very fast at ladling candy into paper bags.
“Can I help you?” asked a plump woman who obviously enjoyed sampling the merchandise.
“Does Stacie Detweiler work here?” asked Matt.
The woman’s face creased with worry lines. “Oh my, is she in some kind of trouble? She’s one of my best girls.”
“No, we just want to ask her a couple of questions,” Aidan said, making an effort to reassure her.
“That’s a relief. She’ll be here in about half an hour,” said the woman.
“Great. We’ll wait for her out on the boardwalk,” said Matt.
They walked out of the shop. “I’m happy to spend a little time catching some rays,” said Aidan.
White benches were placed at regular intervals along the whole boardwalk. Some faced the ocean and some faced the boardwalk so that people could watch the parade of folks going by. Aidan and Matt sat down to look at the beach while they waited for Stacie Detweiler to arrive at work.
“My guess is Stacie didn’t date Randolph long, either,” said Matt. “I doubt that Randolph was the kind of guy who aroused much passion from women other than the desire to get away from him.”
“I’m guessing that you’re right,” said Aidan. “And if Cassie Deaver is the only Board member who had a problem with Randolph, I’m pretty sure that Board members are a dead end. We should check out his profile on Romance.com. I can do that later.”
“Good. I hate those dating web sites,” said Matt.
“Are you dating anybody,” asked Aidan.
Matt didn’t feel like talking about Clara yet to anyone. “I’m trying to recover from my divorce.”
They sat watching the waves, which were small that day. A woman and her kid were having no luck getting a kite up in the air. Further down the beach a black dog chased after a ball thrown again and again by a man with great patience.
“I could get used to living here,” said Aidan.
“It’s a great town. Real quiet in the winter. It’s been good for my boy.”
“I didn’t know you have a kid.”
“Yeah, he’s 12. The schools are better than in Baltimore.” “Good to know,” said Aidan. “That is if I ever have a kid.” “Time for Stacie to be at work. Let’s go.”
Stacie had just arrived and was putting on her apron. She was young and pretty like the bartender at Act Up. Randolph clearly thought he was a catch. Matt hoped like hell that he wouldn’t ever be bothering young women when he got old. In fact the thought of dating at that age depressed Matt.
“Joanna told me you wanted to ask me some questions.”
“Yes, about Gary Randolph,” said Matt. “You dated him?”
Stacie sighed. “Yes, that was a mistake. Not to speak badly of the dead but I really wished I hadn’t. He was such a jerk. He wouldn’t give up after I told him that I wouldn’t see him anymore.”
“He kept coming in here,” said Joanna with irritation. “I would see him coming and warn Stacie so that she could hide out in the back room.”
“Sorry, but we have to ask. Can you tell us where you were on the night he was murdered?”
“When was that?”
“It was last week, November 12th,” said Matt. He shouldn’t assume people knew the date but it was a small town where murders didn’t happen very often.
Joanna spoke up before Stacie. “You were in New York visiting your mom, Stacie.”
“That’s true,” said Stacie, showing them how the week was blocked off on her phone’s calendar.
“Can you think of anybody who might want to harm Randolph?” asked Matt.
“I never met anybody else that knew Gary, actually,” said Stacie.
“Thanks for your time,” said Aidan, and they left the shop.
“We’re getting nowhere,” said Matt. “I’m beginning to think that Randolph’s murder was connected to his mob friends and dog fighting. Maybe he pissed somebody off.”
“Could be. I just don’t know where to start finding those people. I’ve got to get going. I have a date,” said Aidan as they walked back to Town Hall.
CHAPTER THIRTY
B
efore he left work, Matt helped Jay with some paper work. He did feel bad about Jay doing all the endless reports but it wasn’t his decision to work this case. Matt was happy to leave work at the normal time. Henry was working on homework while Matt cooked a simple meal. He wasn’t much of a cook but he believed in families sitting down for dinner together. Matt noticed that Henry was staring out the back window. “How’s the math coming?”
“It’s fine,” Henry grumbled. He didn’t like math. “I was watching the cats come for dinner tonight. They all line up at the same time every night. How do they know that it’s dinner time?”
Matt pondered the question as he shoveled the salmon onto their plates and dished up potatoes and peas. “I have no idea, kid.” It was a good thing that Henry wasn’t too particular about food, Matt thought. “How did you like the bike ride we took yesterday down to Lewes. It’s a pretty long ride so I was glad you could do it.”
Henry gave Matt a look of mock pity. “I was glad you could do it, Dad. You’re slowing down a little.” “That’s for sure. Pretty soon you’ll be pushing me down the path in my wheelchair.”
“Who says I’ll have time for that? I’m going to be a cop and I’ll be real busy.”
Matt laughed as he put down the two plates of food. “I guess I’ll have to take whatever time you can give the old man. You can go get your milk. And you can do the dishes tonight. I’m getting too old for all that.”
“Dad,” Henry said stretching it to two syllables the way kids do when they are complaining.
“What? I can’t hear you. Must be going deaf,” said Matt as he watched Henry plow through his food.
While Henry finished his homework, Matt got on his laptop and started reading the anti-SPCA posts on Facebook. He wanted to find people who seemed to have a grudge against Randolph. If he went to see some of them, he might get a lead.
He scrolled through the posts and found one by an Aida Schultz. Aida said that her dog had gotten loose and wasn’t at the SPCA when she called. Aida had posted a photo of Ruby, a little black Pit Bull, who was asleep on the sofa with a toddler. When Ruby got lost, one of the neighbors called and said that Ruby was picked up by animal control. Aida had rushed to the SPCA and demanded to see the dogs. She was told that Ruby wasn’t there. Aida called her Council member for help. After two days she was told that Ruby had attacked a staff member so she had to be killed for the safety of staff. Aida said that Ruby didn’t have an aggressive bone in her body. The neighbor said Ruby went up to the animal control officers with her tail wagging so it was easy to get her into the van. Matt found an address for Aida Schultz. He would go interview her tomorrow.
He got a beer and turned on the news since Henry was done with his homework. After Henry went to bed, Matt’s thoughts returned to the stories he had read. He remembered that the law mandated that shelters post photos of dogs and cats online so that owners could find them. He went online to look at the photos. Most of the dog photos were taken through the kennel gate and many were out of focus. Some photos were of the dogs’ backs. It was really hard to see anything that would help identify a dog. The cat photos were terrible too.
Matt looked at the dogs’ photos more carefully to see if there were any Pit Bulls but he couldn’t find any. He was surprised that Sharon had be
en able to rescue any Pit Bulls over the years.
Matt read posts by several rescue groups that Randolph wouldn’t let them have any dogs. The SPCA wasn’t complying with the law’s requirement that every animal be offered to rescue groups before being put down.
It wasn’t only Pit Bulls that were put down too soon. Matt read a Facebook post by Andy Douglas about his dog Buster who was a Shepherd mix. Buster had been picked up by animal control. Andy begged the SPCA to keep Buster safe even though he couldn’t pay the fee until Friday. They said not to worry, but when he got to the SPCA on pay day, 48 hours later, he found out that Buster had been put down.
It had been a year since the shelter law passed in Delaware. He remembered Tina Patterson complaining about the law and how it made things difficult for the SPCA. Matt wondered if the SPCA was actually complying with the law at all. Matt read through more of the stories and collected the names of people to interview tomorrow.
He started to rehash the conversation with Clara about the blog. He believed that she knew who was writing the blog. He decided that he would ask her about it again. He hoped that she might trust him enough now to tell him who was blogging.
Matt went down to Clara’s and knocked on the door. She was clearly surprised to see him.
“Clara, now that I’m back on the case, I have to ask you again who is writing that blog. I just have a gut feeling that you know something and you won’t tell me for some reason.”
Clara froze. What the hell was she supposed to do? Tell Matt that her mother was a ghost and was still writing the blog? It gave a new meaning to the term ghost writer.
“I really don’t know. My mother must have handed it off to someone” said Clara as she tried to sound convincing. “Why would you think that someone who writes this no kill blog would murder someone? Don’t you see that makes no sense?”
“Look, I’ve read the blog. The person who writes it is very angry. Maybe the blogger was angry enough to kill Randolph.”
“I can assure you that is not the case.”