Alive After Friday (Sandy Reid Mystery Series)

by Rod Hoisington

“No. I thought cheating-wife Myra was Jane. Now I’ve talked myself out of it and I’m back to square one and don’t know where to head. Perhaps, I should put a lid on my optimism and come home before I’ve wasted any more time.”

  He said, “Correct me if I’m wrong. Myra was shot down there, and her boyfriend Boyd was shot up here. Therefore, you’ve definitely connected the two murders and must be on the right track to discover Jane.”

  “Except Boyd could just be some jerk who got killed in the park. Sure, I’ve been running around putting his history together, which is interesting. Yet it all might have nothing to do with Dick and Jane, who could be an entirely unknown couple enjoying an expense paid trip around the world. In which case, I’ve gone nowhere and done nothing except give away four hundred grand.” She hadn’t thought about how depressing it was until she heard herself say it aloud. “Frankly, I don’t see an end to this.”

  “I hate to say goodnight, you sound so down. Just think about tomorrow, sweetheart. All those dark clouds will roll by and I’ll get the sun shining for you again.”

  “That’s just what I need. I’ll dream about you tonight and be in your arms tomorrow. Now I’m getting all excited. Stay safe until I see you. I love you, Chip.”

  “Tomorrow is the last day of my task force assignment with the FBI. I should be finished around mid afternoon. I’ll meet you at my place. I’ll be the guy with the gleam in his eye.”

  “And I’ll be the girl who is all aglow. Do you love me?”

  “Only until the stars fall from the skies.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  The first thing the next morning Sandy hurried to the West Palm Beach police headquarters hoping to have an early meeting with Detective Walter Dominic to smooth things over. She wanted the meeting over as quickly as possible because this day she was heading back home to Park Beach. If she could get away from Palm Beach by noon, she could be showered, ready and waiting for Chip when he got off duty.

  She had expected to be better connected with Dominic, by this time. This morning wasn’t going to help; she had some tall explaining to do. She needed to tell him about Ryan phoning yesterday afternoon from Disney and then not showing up. She stayed dressed until late waiting in her hotel room for his call. He seemed a decent guy and deserved some help even though she wasn’t entirely convinced of his innocence. And she might need him to reach his sister. She had found Gail’s phone number and left messages explaining who she was and how she fit into helping her brother, but it seemed Gail was ignoring her.

  Sergeant Swanson eagerly sidled up to her, before she got to the detective’s cubicle and was delighted to report that Sandy was in big trouble. The Florida Highway Patrol had picked up Ryan Cramer the previous evening at a turnpike rest stop. After his interrogation, Dominic arrested him.

  The detective was buried in a case file. She stood in his doorway until he glanced up. He smiled when he saw her and said, “You still playing cops and robbers?”

  “You still playing a hardass?” She gave him a half-wave and sat down in front of his desk. “I just found out Ryan Cramer’s in jail. How’s he handling it?”

  The detective pointed to a report on his desk, “Why didn’t you tell me he had a sister who was often at their house. We didn’t know about her until we interviewed a neighbor.”

  “Sorry about that. If you hadn’t cut me off, when I was in here yesterday, you’d have learned all sorts of interesting things. Yes, I thought sister Gail might possibly have useful information about Myra and Boyd, because Myra always confided in her.”

  “And you wanted to get to her before I did?”

  “If I did, I’d tell you all about it later assuming I could get your attention.” She shouldn’t have phrased it like that. Better cool it with the attitude. He could shut her down at any time. “Have you talked with her yet?”

  He looked annoyed. “That part is none of your business. And I’ve already told you Boyd doesn’t interest me much. I’ve my hands full with live suspects, which is my main concern at this stage. But I’m glad you walked in, so we don’t have to go looking for you. We dumped the memory on Ryan’s cell phone to check his calls. Guess what? We found a call made yesterday afternoon with a Sandra Reid. You were talking with a fugitive after we told you we had an APB out on him. And after you assured me you weren’t going to interfere. You’ve all sorts of secrets don’t you. Now this is important...did he know, or did you tell him his wife had died?”

  “He phoned me from his timeshare near Disney. I assumed he already knew about his wife, so I didn’t mention it. But he was acting on the phone as if he didn’t know. He didn’t seem to be grieving, and if the police were after him, he thought it had something to do with the embezzlement. After we hung up, it occurred to me that he wasn’t aware that his wife was dead. In any case, I talked him into coming back.”

  “At which point, you should have phoned me.”

  “He was reluctant. I offered to meet him, and we’d walk in here together. He felt better about that. But you’re right, I should have phoned. I kept waiting for him and then it got too late. I’m sorry.” She wondered if that was enough to get her off the hook. “Your first name is Walter? Do you like to be called, Walt, Dom? What do your friends call you?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “How about just, Dominic. Hey, I got him to come back, didn’t I? When you picked him up, he was on his way to turn himself in, thanks to me. That should count for something.”

  “Very little, even if true. More significant is the fact that he ran away in the first place. Not the first impulse of an innocent person.”

  “Except, he didn’t know his wife had been murdered, when he ran.”

  “That’s what he says. What else, smart girl.”

  That was progress; she’d graduated from smartass to smart girl. “What time was the murder?”

  “You see how you are?”

  “Okay, don’t tell me the time. I’ll get it from the police report.”

  “Time of death isn’t in there.”

  “Okay, I’ll get it from the M.E. report.”

  “That won’t be available for days.”

  “Are we on different sides here?” She held out her upturned palms.

  “Of course. The police have no obligation to assist any defendant, including your client.”

  “I’m not his attorney?”

  He raised both hands in the air. “Then what’s this all about? I didn’t think you were his attorney until you said you talked him into coming back. You really play it on the edge don’t you?” He pointed his pencil at her. “If you’re not his attorney, and are holding back anything you’re the one who’ll need an attorney.”

  “How’s he doing?” She knew from firsthand experience that being locked behind bars can be a terrifying experience, especially the first night.

  “He’s despondent. Got him under a doctor’s care for depression.

  “What! You mean he’s been hospitalized?”

  “He’s in a cell by himself and on an antidepressant.”

  “Geez Louise. And I’ve been feeling sorry for myself. Can I see him? Is he on a suicide watch?”

  The detective shook his head.

  “Look, I’m here to help you. It’s that simple,” she explained, “For what it’s worth, he told me on the phone that he and Gail saw Myra last night, when she came over to Gail’s condo. She wanted them to help her get out of the embezzlement mess. After she left he took off for their timeshare up near Disney.”

  “What time did she leave and what time did he take off for Disney?”

  “I’ve no clue.”

  “Why didn’t he go home with her?”

  “She was no longer hiding her affair with Boyd. The guy had been coming to the house and actually stayed there at least one night. Ryan has been sleeping at his office or over at his sister’s place. I guess sometimes he showers and changes clothes at home, but doesn’t like to sleep there because he doesn’t want to
wake up and find Boyd next to him in bed.”

  “He lets the guy who’s diddling his wife sleep in his house? Does he fix him breakfast too? What kind of wuss is he? So, Ryan doesn’t know that Boyd is dead?”

  “Doesn’t sound like it, and if he does he didn’t get it from me. I try to get as much information as I can while giving out as little as possible. I learned that long ago from a police detective in Philly.”

  She noticed his raised eyebrow, gave him a wink and said, “There’s no story there. Anyway, when he closed the office that afternoon, I tailed him to Gail’s place just on general principles. I wanted to interview her and wanted to know where she lived...she’d recently moved—Magnolia Palms, West Palm. I waited there until around eight. He didn’t go out before then, at least not in his panel truck. Then I went back to my hotel.”

  “Too bad you didn’t stick around. You might have seen him leave and go home to shoot his wife.”

  “Or possibly, if I’d stuck around, I’d have seen Gail leave and go shoot her sister-in-law.”

  “Okay. Time of death is estimated between ten p.m. and two a.m. that night. Does that make you happy?”

  She sensed the detective was beginning to warm up to her. “Thanks for that. The M.E. has to be thinking she was killed in the middle of that time span, at midnight.”

  “You hit it.”

  She was certain the detective was going to explode when he heard she’d obtained Boyd’s address from Bristol Trucking against the detective’s warning to stay away from that angle. And if that wasn’t enough to set him off, in addition she’d learned about Tonya and gone after her. In effect, jumping around him twice. He might have had his own strategy for approaching and interviewing Tonya. He wouldn’t be pleased with any of it. She needed to put lipstick on the pig.

  She started in, “Okay, you ready for this? Here’s another suspect for you. Another woman. Dead guy Boyd—who you should be, but aren’t particularly interested in—was living with a girlfriend. I’ve met her. She’s tough. Tall as you and just a tad overweight, which fills her out nicely and gives her a great shape—if you like amazons. Don’t meet her in a dark alley. She’s done hard time and has a Glock.”

  “How in hell do you know all this?”

  “I happened to be at her neighbor’s house talking when she came in. She thought I was an intruder or so she said. She flashed a gun. That constitutes a firearm possession violation, since she’s a felon.” She wanted Dominic on Tonya’s tail not just for Myra’s murder, but because possibly it was Boyd and Tonya who were playing Dick and Jane out in the Everglades. “Detective Jaworski had checked her prison record earlier, back when we first thought she might be Jane.”

  “You just happened to be in her neighborhood, huh. So what was the old charge you dug up?”

  “Manslaughter. Five years.”

  “How old was she?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “Give me a break...eighteen? Let her keep her fucking gun.”

  “But it’s a Glock.”

  “Everyone in Florida above the age of five has a Glock.”

  “She didn’t seem to know her boyfriend Boyd was dead, and I didn’t tell her. Said they are sweethearts. So, you have a third suspect. You’ve got a jealous girlfriend who wanted Myra out of the love triangle.” Sandy was growing a bit tired of the detective’s seeming indifference. At least he hadn’t yelled about her investigating on her own. “You want her name?”

  “Why am I putting up with you?”

  “I’m sorry. Tonya Rhodes. I have her address. Don’t you love suspects who have a record?”

  The detective sat there pleased and impressed. She could have asked for anything of him at that point and gotten it. She said, “Did you ask Ryan about the gun Myra found in the house? I told you he put it his office safe.”

  “Yeah, we took him over to get it and checked it out. Not the murder weapon. That would be too easy. Forget about it.”

  “Forget about it? What am I, chopped liver?” She straightened in her chair. “Not your murder weapon for Myra, but it might be my murder weapon used to kill Boyd. Can you get the findings up to Detective Jaworski ASAP?” Dominic really should have thought of that himself. “You said you had an inter-agency exchange going with him.”

  He gave her a mock salute. He called in Swanson and told her to get together all they had on the Ryan Cramer gun and get it up to Detective Eddy Jaworski in Park Beach.

  Then Sandy asked, “Did Ryan find an attorney?”

  “Last I heard he’s using his business attorney or something.”

  “His business attorney? It’s only a first-degree murder charge. Why doesn’t he ask his corner barber to defend him? This I have to see. When’s the arraignment?”

  He looked at this watch. “Ten this morning. You know, he thinks you’re going to back him up...he showed me your card.”

  “I gave him my card long before he was in any trouble. Can I see him now?”

  “You’re not his attorney remember?”

  “Just to explain that he needs to get a capable attorney. I won’t talk to him about anything else without his attorney present.”

  “Sounds okay. I’ll arrange that. You have me confused. You’re down here from Park Beach investigating your own extortion crime, because you’re personally involved. I’m okay with that. Then this Ryan Cramer gets accused of knocking off his wife and suddenly you’re the Head Majorette out in front of his parade.”

  “To start with, you simply don’t have enough evidence to hold him. Plus, the man is innocent.”

  “And you know that because—”

  “He’s still in love with his wife.”

  “Are you really that naïve? Some people kill the dearest thing they love. And go right on loving them after they’re dead.”

  “But he wouldn’t even face up to her about having a boyfriend for fear she’d leave him for good, and he didn’t want that.” Sandy recognized the rapport increasing between them. “If her lover showed up at the house, she’d probably tell her husband to get in the closet,” she chuckled. “I told you he’s a pussycat.”

  “You’re half right, but it’s those quiet ones you have to watch.” He leaned back, still trying to figure her out. “Now, you’re going to repeat everything we’ve talked about to his new attorney. Am I right? Or am I right?”

  “You’ve been very professional and haven’t revealed anything to me. I’ve been telling you everything I know and haven’t asked you for any details, except the time of death. Have I? Now if you feel you’ve said anything you don’t want repeated, tell me now and I’ll squelch it. I’m under no obligation to tell his attorney anything.”

  Why couldn’t he meet a woman like this? And she wasn’t a bit afraid of him; he’d always wanted an equal. He wouldn’t call her hot, at least not the way she was dressed that day, although he bet she could get glammed up and turn it all on if she wanted. Probably uptight with that Detective Jaworski up there in Park Beach; she’s getting inside information from someone up there. Lucky guy. Most likely a handsome dude. Or maybe it’s that Martin guy she runs around with; he looks at her as though he wants to eat her with a spoon. In any case, no one like her is going to be walking around unattached. She certainly isn’t waiting around for someone like me to come around.

  And she stays focused on what’s important. Not gazing around his cubicle wondering if he should put up some curtains or change the color of the walls. He should ask her out. Yeah, like he’d ever get up the nerve to do that. Big tough cop afraid of a little rejection. If he didn’t ask, then she couldn’t reject him, and he could always tell himself he could have dated her if he’d asked. How stupid was that? How could he approach her? Twice he started to speak and then halted.

  She sat studying him. Waiting for him to come out with whatever he was agonizing over. Then she understood, and in a soft persuasive tone such as a doctor might use with a delicate patient, she suggested, “Let’s go have some coffee.”

  Ha
d she read his mind, he wondered? Was she trying to help him along? He returned her smile. “There’s a break room on the first floor.”

  She felt Sergeant Swanson’s icy stare frosting her back as they walked side by side across the office to the elevator.

  It must have been a change of shifts as the break room was packed. The detective strode to a table at the back as though he owned it; no doubt his usual spot. Two uniformed officers seated there saw them coming. And they both started to get up. One said, “How ya doing, Dom?”

  Sandy said, “Sit still. Nothing private. Just coffee.”

  The officer said, “No, it’s all yours.” They both got up, taking their paper cups and carefully wiping the table with their napkins. Dominic thanked them. Did they jump because he outranked them, or because he was with a woman? From the grins on their faces, she guessed it was the latter.

  He asked for her coffee preference and soon returned. He was thinking, at least this was a start for him. They were away from his office being friendly and informal. He thought of something nice to say, “You get down here to West Palm much—when you’re not chasing bad guys?” It wasn’t until then that he remembered and his hand went to his mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make light of your situation. I forgot you were abducted.”

  She nodded. “The Dick and Jane I told you about...they took me out into the Everglades bound and blindfolded, forced me to kneel, put a gun to the back of my head, and basically scared the shit out of me.”

  The detective had no difficulty in visualizing. He had inspected such scenes after the gun was fired and the head blown away. He closed his eyes tightly and was silent.

  “Then they extorted four hundred grand out of me under threat of killing Chip...my lover.”

  “Look...ah...you don’t have to talk about it.”

  “Yeah, I guess I don’t want to.”

  The detective took a quick sip of coffee to cover his embarrassment. He glanced around the crowded room to avoid her eyes and took another sip. He was ashamed at his selfishness of having dreamy thoughts about coming on to her. He now knew how important it was for her to be there in West Palm trying to put together all that had happened. He now understood she’d suggested coffee not to play up to him, but merely to be friendly. Of course, he would never ask her out, or continue to try to get closer to her. Sure, he’d love to know more about her, but he’d no right to be included in whatever was going on with her.