One Deadly Sister

by Rod Hoisington

  “What’s she got to do with this?”

  “Loraine said the three of you are friends.”

  “Really getting strange now. She owns the Jardin Café west of town. She’s Cuban-American from up north somewhere. I had the real estate listing for the restaurant for a full year yet I couldn’t move it. In the end, she bought it through another agent. I didn’t make a dime. I’ve never even met her.”

  “Another of Loraine’s lies. I wish I’d never gone to that party.”

  “It was kind of cool of you to be so unconcerned about a woman’s age and leave with her. No one can accuse you of robbing the cradle.”

  “I figured she was a little older. At first, I thought she might be as old as fifty. Then I got up close and started thinking sixty. Then Towson said she’s seventy something. Aren’t seventy-year-olds supposed to just read books and play bridge?”

  “Towson ought to know, he was married to her.”

  “What?”

  “Sure. Back awhile, before he was mayor. Her maiden name was Dellin. They met at a Mensa meeting. How’s that for classy dating?”

  “Married huh? How’d she ever get in Mensa?”

  “You keep implying she’s dumb. She must be playing with you. Loraine is smart and sophisticated. You’re really out of it, you know. For a minute there I started to think somehow you might be a nice, harmless guy.”

  “Help me, Tammy. Why is she doing this to me?”

  “When did she tell you all this?”

  “This morning.”

  “You were with her this morning—where?”

  He hesitated and dropped his eyes. “Well, actually we were at a motel.”

  She raised her eyebrows at that. “This just keeps getting better and better. And you want my help.”

  “We just talked. I was enjoying an innocent Saturday morning at home when she phoned asking for help. I went over. I had nothing to do with any of this until she phoned.” He leaned closer. “Is it possible Loraine is the one who was raped? That could be it. She didn’t want me to know, but she’s calling out for help. She was hiding her bruises with her sunglasses. That’s why she didn’t want the lights on in her motel room.”

  “Or to hide her wrinkles. So you two were just talking in the dark, both fully dressed at all times, of course. You’re one sad case. Does what you just said make any sense to you? Let me tell you, Sonny Barner is no match for her. If he ever accosted her, she'd aim that death ray look of hers at him until he started shaking, then with a snap of her fingers he’d dissolve down into a slippery, greasy spot.”

  “She seemed so defenseless, like she needed help.”

  “Loraine hasn’t been helpless since she started changing her own diapers. Then again, maybe she had some other reason for shooting Barner—if in fact she did. Anyway, it’s not your concern. Get out of it.”

  “I thought I could straighten it out. I’m going back and confront her now. She has to explain all this. I gave her a deadline of three o’clock to get a lawyer, but I won’t wait that long if she’s been lying to me.” He glanced at his watch again.

  “What do you mean deadline? What are you talking about?”

  “I told her I’d hold off going to the police about the shooting until three. It’s after one now.”

  “Wait, wait, wait, you’re not going to the police. You are not going to the police.” She put the palms of her hands on the table and leaned toward him. “Haven’t you ruined my life enough for one day? Have you told anyone about my supposed rape?”

  “No!”

  She raised her voice, “Are you certain? I don’t want to be the victim in any gossip. Any such rumors could ruin my reputation and my business. Were you so crude as to discuss it with Towson?”

  “No, swear to God. I was careful not to mention it to him.”

  “You absolutely are not going to the police.” Now she was furious, her voice was firm and sharp, “Get this straight, if you mention one word of this malicious story to anyone, including the police—especially the police. I’ll sue you for defamation, or whatever I can come up with. Do you have any idea what’s at stake here? I get into big money real estate deals, people have to trust me. I live on my spotless reputation. It took me years to get where I am. Any little hint of impropriety could ruin me in a minute. You can’t go to the police. Loraine probably made all this up anyway.”

  “But possibly she did murder him, and if I don’t go to the police then I’m on the spot as a criminal accessory.” But he knew Tammy was correct. The police would interview her whether it’s true or not. She’d be embarrassed and that would be the least of her worries. The story was too good not to leak out.

  “Thanks a lot, buddy.” She was silent for some time. She took a sip of her tea. She folded her arms and stared out the window for a full minute then back at Ray, studying his face carefully. Then another sip of tea. He wondered if she wanted him to just get up and leave.

  Finally, she spoke, “Well, perhaps I’ve been too quick to judge. I was certain you were off the wall at first, but you might actually have a slight streak of sanity. I don’t care for Loraine but it’s horrible if she was raped. I can picture her going after Barner with a gun. That might have happened. You’re on the right track after all. Give her extra time today. Wait the three hours. Give her time to find a good lawyer. Then you come forward without being asked, and you’re out of it.”

  “But you said….”

  “I’ll be okay. I can handle the police. I know the chief and most of those guys anyway. I’ll just laugh it off with them. Yes, this will work. I’m not getting involved, but you can call me at my office if I can help. I’ll be there until late.”

  “Whatever you say Tammy, I just want to get out of this. I know I’ve upset you, and I’m sorry, but I’m glad you’re okay after all. Can we meet again, perhaps have dinner sometime?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Get a grip.”

  ***

  Toward evening that day, Tammy Jerrold was back at her desk, alone in her real estate office. Talking to Ray Reid had started her thinking. She had exaggerated the glamour of being associated with Towson. In truth, he had called on her less and less and then lately not at all. The business referrals had dried up.

  She had gone on and on to Reid about how great things used to be when she worked for Towson when he was mayor. Looking back, had it been all that great? It sounded as if he really appreciated her. Well, he did and he didn’t. She had given him good years of her life. Hearing herself talk about the old routine, about following him around, now sounded foolish.

  She had accomplished a lot, but it was through her own efforts. Sure, he had given her leads from time to time, nevertheless she was the one that made the phone calls, made the deals, and made all those closings. She did it with hard work, nobody handed it to her.

  Maybe it’s time to move on. Market’s slow here. Nothing is holding her to Park Beach. She had thought about a change. She was tired of this routine, tired of pushing real estate, and tired of keeping the perfect saleswoman smile pasted on her face.

  Although Saturdays were usually good days for business, she wasn’t in the mood to concentrate on business, not in the mood for people. She sat there ignoring the office answering machine blinking with unanswered messages.

  A different ring continued for almost a minute before she realized it was her cell.

  “Ms. Jerrold, please hold for Chief Oehlert.”

  “Tammy, this is Bill. Bad news. There’s been a homicide.”

  “Oh, oh,” she said. “I was afraid of that, Sonny Barner.”

  “Sonny Barner? No. Tammy sit down. The Senator—Senator Towson has been shot. Call just came in. I’m on my way over there now. I’ll call you back when I know more. I’m sorry, Tammy. I know you were just like family to him. I didn’t want you to hear from anyone else. National news has already picked up on it. Don’t know how they found out so fast.”

  She hadn’t heard any word after “shot” because she star
ted shaking. The phone slipped from her hand. She sprawled forward across the desk, motionless except for the sobbing and the uncontrollable flinching.

  Abruptly, the desk phone jangled unbelievably loud, and she jolted upright. It might be more news. She must answer.

  “Tammy, it’s Ray. Can’t find Loraine. I talked with Norma Martin, however. You were right she doesn’t know either you or Loraine. I don’t know what to do now.”

  She tried her best to keep her voice steady. “Where are you?”

  “In my car.”

  “Come over here to my office as fast as you can.”

  “Why? What’s wrong? You sound funny, you okay?”

  “Come straight here. Don’t stop anywhere. Don’t talk to anyone. Get here fast.”

  She hung up and buried her face in her arms for a moment. Then she picked up the phone again, inhaled deeply, and punched 911.

  Chapter 6

  Ray drove straight to Tammy’s office as she instructed, but when he stepped from his car outside her office, bursts of lights struck like lightning around him. Police appeared from nowhere and rushed about yelling, pointing guns, and shining lights in his face. More blue and white cars screeched up. Slamming doors, flashing lights and crackling police radios jammed his head.

  The confusion in his mind matched the chaos in the street. He had expected a police officer would come around, ask about how he knew Loraine, and jot down a couple of things in a little notebook, but not an armada like this. Did they believe he shot Barner? His head felt full and warm and a knot was forming in his stomach.

  The uniforms parted for a man in plain clothes. He displayed no gun but flipped his badge and stated he was Detective Goddard.

  “Is this about the shooting?” Ray could think of nothing else to say.

  “Sir, I’m going to ask you to lean over, place your hands palms down on your vehicle, and spread your legs. Do you have any weapons on your person or in your vehicle?”

  Ray answered of course not. The detective frisked him and turned him around face to face. The detective was tall, in good shape and stood board-straight. He didn’t appear too mean, yet was absolutely intimidating. Ray’s hands shook and he fumbled handing over the requested driver’s license.

  “New in town, how long have you been working down here?”

  “Almost a month now, I guess.”

  “You had ten days after obtaining Florida employment to get those Pennsy tags off your vehicle,” the detective recited calmly. “That’s a violation, Mr. Reid. As of right now, consider your vehicle impounded. Please give me the keys. Do you mind if we talk down at the police station?” It didn’t sound like a question.

  Ray began to sweat and could feel his heart pounding. The multiple colored lights from police vehicles continued to spin in his eyes. He leaned over against the car door and tried to get enough breath to speak. “You’re taking me to the police station to talk about my license plates?”

  The detective didn’t answer. He opened the rear door of a nearby vehicle and motioned for Ray to get in the back behind the webbed steel dividing screen.

  Saturday evening in the Park Beach police squad room was busy and noisy when they entered through a side door, however the room became stony silent, and all heads turned as the detective led Ray to a chair beside his desk. A uniformed officer walked by and patted the detective on the back.

  “There must be some misunderstanding.” Ray wondered if they had already picked up Loraine.

  “How did you know there was a shooting, Mr. Reid?” Detective Goddard started typing on the keyboard and didn’t look directly at him.

  The detective tossed off the question so casually Ray wasn’t certain if a response was expected. What was going on? They must have found Barner’s body. That led to Loraine. She gave the police his name or someone saw him at the motel. How did they put all this together so fast? Or, more likely Tammy Jerrold is the one. She must have called the police; can’t blame her for being suspicious. Yet he must be careful about what he says. He decided to just not answer for now.

  The detective studied the driver’s license and continued punching in data, “Previous address?” Ray told him. “Philadelphia, huh, what did you do up there?” He went on with the background questions: ever use an alias, any priors, ever do any time, present employment.

  “I work at E.J. Bradford.”

  “You’re a stockbroker?”

  “No, I’m Back Office.”

  “What do I put down—back office?”

  “That’s what they call it, just put down, Office Manager.”

  “Family in Philadelphia?”

  “No family, parents gone a few years ago. Just a sister now.”

  “What happened to your hand, been in a fight?”

  “Slight burn, I got careless.”

  “We need your permission to look under that wrapping. We’ll have it rebandaged, okay?”

  “Just leave it off. It should heal okay now.”

  “How do you know Senator Towson?”

  That was a surprise. “Towson? I met Towson at a party last week, why?” Towson must have called them, angry about the cup. Most likely, he has plenty of pull with the police, told them to harass him. Yet, all those cops swooping down just to throw a scare into him?

  “Where were you this afternoon, Mr. Reid?”

  No sense to any of this. “Why don’t you just tell me what you want?” If they found Barner’s body, what does that have to do with Towson? With each fragment of information he disclosed, another piece might fall off his innocent bystander argument. He wondered if Loraine had been able to get to a lawyer in time. That’s what he should do. He could hear a lawyer telling him to shut up. “Should I have a lawyer?”

  Those must have been the magic words. Goddard pushed back from his desk and stood. “You’re not under arrest, but we’re holding you overnight.”

  “You mean in jail? You’d actually lock me in a jail cell?” He felt his heart thumping. “Look, you don’t have to do this. I’ll tell you what. Just keep those papers right there. I’ll come back in the morning, and we can settle the whole misunderstanding. Okay? What’s tomorrow Sunday? Do you work Sunday? Is Monday better for you? You see, I don’t really have much to do with all this. In fact, I was going to call you guys today.”

  Goddard raised the file folder to cover his smile. “I’d be happy to listen to you. Are you waiving your right to an attorney?”

  Ray shook his head. It was unfair talk-or-go-to-jail blackmail. Blurting out the long Loraine-Norma-Tammy story probably would change nothing right now. If it took spending a night in jail for these people to understand their mistake, then he’d go along. The detective said he wasn’t under arrest.

  Ray had to ask one question, “What does Senator Towson have to do with this?”

  Goddard gave him a puzzled look and passed him along to a police sergeant. “Test this guy’s hands for GSR, before fingerprinting, and save every bit of that bandage in an evidence bag. Bag all of his clothes and shoes, separate bags for everything, of course. I got to get back to the crime scene, if I can fight my way through the reporters.” Goddard started to walk away then turned back grinning. “Check his alcohol level while you’re at it. He’s talking weird.”

  Chapter 7

  It was later that Saturday night, dark outside but the lights were bright along the jail corridor. Ray sat on the edge of his concrete bunk staring at the back of the drunk zonked out opposite him. They were in one of ten small cells in a basement area attached to the police station. They shared two concrete bunks with thin pads, a toilet without a seat, and a dirty sink. Ray was now wearing a hot baggy jumpsuit. He wondered why his cellmate still had his street clothes.

  Ray heard the metal clang of a door down the hallway. A short young man wearing jeans, a polo shirt, and dirty sneakers strolled down the jail corridor and straight up to Ray’s cell. The guard at the desk near the door didn’t even glance up at him.

  “I’m Beau Cobb, name
d for my granddaddy. Chip Goddard told me you might need some stuff.”

  Ray stared curiously through the bars.

  “Local bail bondsman, official and licensed. I’ll be around in the morning after you go before the judge.”

  “I’m not sure I’m even under arrest. You said Chip somebody?”

  “The guy who arrested you: Detective Sergeant Ronald Goddard, Jr., son of the former police chief. Chip, like off the old block, get it?”

  “Yeah, I get it. I’m back in the South a hundred years ago and everybody with power is related.”

  “Don’t know about that but he’s not related to anybody. I heard about him in high school. Was a few years ahead of me. He was on the football team, went to college, and was a Marine. I decided not to do any of that, had some other stuff to do. He just made Detective. So, you think you’re not under arrest.”

  “Just holding me overnight.”

  “Heard that one before.” Beau glanced around then stepped confidentially to the bars and whispered, “Hey man, did you really off the senator?”

  “What?”

  “Senator Towson, you do him, whack him, close him out? They got a tip you were at his place today.”

  “Towson’s dead?” Ray backed up and sat on the end of the bunk. He didn’t get it. Something’s wrong. Couldn’t be.

  “Where you been? The whole country’s talking about it, all over the TV. I’m not supposed to talk about it, you know. Like it’s the big deal crime of the century for them upstairs. What’s your middle name? The National Enquirer wanted to know. They always include the middle name of assassins. Like John Wilkes Booth and Lee Harvey Oswald. You’re gonna be a celebrity.”

  “That’s horrible, I liked the guy. They think I did it?”

  “Hey, you’re the one dressed in gorgeous orange. So what is it?”

  “What is what?”

  “Your middle name. I’ll split what they pay me for it.”

  He still couldn’t think straight and this character wasn’t helping. “What about Barner?”

  “You know old Sonny, what about him?”