Alive After Friday (Sandy Reid Mystery Series)

by Rod Hoisington

  Unexpectedly, she saw Gail’s turn signals start flashing several blocks from the Magnolia Palms condo. Gail slowed and turned off the main street into a small strip of stores and parked at a liquor store. If she were stocking up for an evening with Martin, she wouldn’t need much. Just some gin, vermouth and olives—never stuffed please. That’s when she noticed a dark blue SUV up ahead following closely on Gail’s tail also turned in and parked away from the stores. She tried to remember if she’d seen the SUV following the Ford as they exited from I-95. She pulled over to the curb where she could watch both vehicles. It was a long wait.

  When Gail finally backed away from the store to go out, Sandy noticed the SUV back out of its parking spot and also begin to exit. The SUV driver had never left the vehicle. The driver had just sat behind the wheel all that time. How very unlikely the Ford and the SUV would both enter and exit the parking area at the same time.

  Someone else was following Gail.

  After both vehicles had turned back onto Okeechobee, Sandy pulled away and followed two cars back. She tried to maneuver to not be cut off by missing a traffic signal. At one point, she was forced to enter an intersection on a stale yellow caution light, but she made it across awkwardly and almost legally. All the while, she was waiting for the SUV to turn off and go somewhere else.

  A few minutes later, both vehicles turned off US-1 onto the access road than ran alongside the Magnolia Palms. Behind the condominium, along the rear property line, there was a row of parking spaces for guests. The opposite side held the entrance to the private ground floor parking garage for residents under the building. Gail swung into the parking area and drove out of sight beneath the building. The SUV pulled to a stop at the curb apparently to watch. Sandy was in a line of traffic and didn’t dare stop. No choice but to continue straight ahead with the other cars down the side road, or else be conspicuous. No view of the driver was possible through the tinted windows. No time to note the license number, but she could see it was a Honda SUV. At the next intersection, it was safe for Sandy to make an about turn and slowly creep back up toward the condo. The SUV was nowhere to be seen.

  She phoned Martin, “I’m parked outside Gail’s condo. Guess what? A dark blue Honda SUV followed Gail home. Fortunately I wasn’t seen. I wanted to start following it but it was gone.”

  “Good grief, what does that mean? Who could it be?”

  The thought of a mysterious someone else shadowing Gail shook her up somewhat. “I feel so helpless just now,” she said. “I did meet with Gail’s boyfriend. He confirmed they were together on May first, so she definitely isn’t Jane. He said he might have more information for me if I came back again tonight when it’s nice and dark.”

  “Nice and dark? Did he say nice and dark?”

  “No, I just threw that in for dramatic effect.”

  “Why didn’t he just tell you what he knew while you were there?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’ve sense enough not to go back there tonight.”

  “Yes, that would really be dumb, wouldn’t it? Good luck tonight, buddy. Keep an eye out for a dark blue Honda SUV and remember that although Gail isn’t Jane she just might have shot Boyd.”

  Sandy sat in her car and gazed out at the traffic passing on busy US-1 in front of the condominium. Gail was now home and was no doubt getting all fancied up for Martin at seven. She checked her watch wondering if Dominic would be in his office for a while. She phoned and Sergeant Swanson wouldn’t put her through, insisting that she leave a message. He phoned back immediately; now was a good time, come on over.

  It would be good to talk with Dominic and get all the latest. And then what? Gail would be in Martin’s hands. She couldn’t just sit around all evening waiting for something to happen. There was nothing else to do after seeing the detective. Nowhere else to go. Or was there?

  She thought about Brad Powell. Perhaps crossing him off so quickly was a mistake. He was willing to talk about Gail’s money, if she’d meet him just before the car lot closes, so they wouldn’t be interrupted—that sounded like a crock. Yet, if he dropped one small piece of information such as “Gail and this guy had something big going down,” it would be worthwhile. There was no flirting or teasing with his type, but perhaps she could get him talking. Maybe he’d surprise her, keep his hands off her, and drop something other than his fancy shorts. Fat chance that was going to happen. It seemed a waste of time.

  If she called him back, she realized he’d take it the wrong way. He’d take it as a victory of his irresistible charm over her pretended morality. Of course, he’s going to try something if she showed up. He had won her over and she was giving in. She’d just have to be prepared and be careful. She’d dealt with lechers before. If his employee, Doreen, were there it would be helpful. And what if he did have some useful information, in that case, having to fight him off might be worth it.

  She phoned him. Tried to sound all business. She’d be there at eight. He was pleased. They’d talk and then she’d leave. So cool it, Brad.

  A mistake—she knew it before she hung up. She should have done it some other way. Sure, he’s good looking and is used to having any woman he wants—he also has Strictly Forbidden written all over him. “You run with Gail...can you keep up with her?” She didn’t know what that meant—and didn’t want him to show her.

  Now that she’d accepted, she could imagine the thoughts he’d have before eight that night. “I have the feeling you’re nailing me good right now, aren’t you Brad?”

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Sandy drove straight to the West Palm police station. Detective Dominic was waiting for her as she left the elevator, and they walked together back over to his cubicle. They had a coffee together a few weeks back and Eddy Jaworski had since clued him in on her loss. She needed to reconnect with him and be briefed on the progress.

  He moved a chair for her close up beside his desk. “Seems like forever since you were last up here, Sandy. You’ve been through hell since I last saw you.”

  “I’m pretty much back to normal now. Thanks for your kind thoughts.”

  He didn’t want to get any more personal than that, at least for now. “I have some info for you. You know we released Ryan Cramer, at least he’s out on bail. The ASA still considers him a suspect, but we’ll be forced to drop the charges. And we’re still hunting for his wife’s murderer.”

  “I know who it is,” she said.

  “Myra Cramer’s murderer?” At first he raised an eyebrow then smiled saying, “Oh, you mean Jane.”

  “Yes, no question about it now. I don’t know who she is yet, but the woman who pulled off the kidnapping and extortion with Boyd up in Park Beach also shot Myra down here. Jane obviously knew Boyd was from down here. After all, she chose him to help her with the abduction. When he’s killed for the money, she figures he must have told someone probably his girlfriend Myra.”

  “So, I’m looking for Jane—we’re both looking for her.” He leaned back with his hands behind his neck. “What’s happening with Ryan’s sister, Gail? We had her in for interrogation but found no connection with Myra’s murder. Have anything on her?”

  “My theory is she found out about the money-drop from talkative Myra, followed Boyd up to Park Beach and shot him. But I’ve no hard evidence that she knew about it or went up there.”

  “Why couldn’t Gail be Jane?”

  “She has a perfect alibi for the night of the abduction. Not the night of the money-drop, but the night of the abduction. If she were Jane, why shoot her partner since he was bringing the money to her anyway?”

  He started to reach for his phone. “I want Gail Holman in here again for questioning. We’ll get this straightened out for both of us. Give me a list of questions you want answered. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Please don’t do that. I need her free to run around.”

  “Why?”

  “If I tell you, you’ll try to stop me.”

  “Y
es, I probably would, so forget about it. There’s some unexpectedly good news I haven’t had a chance to tell you. You know, I’ve been working with your buddy Detective Jaworski...I guess you’re pretty close with him.”

  “Not particularly. What’s the news?”

  “They determined the gun, which Myra found one morning in her house and which Ryan had kept in his safe, was the Cal Boyd murder weapon.”

  “You’re joking! The Boyd murder weapon? Halleluiah.” She beamed. “There we have it. That supports my theory. Gail used that gun to shoot Boyd.”

  “How did the gun get in Myra’s house?”

  “Gail must have planted it there. She was in and out of that house. She was always upset with Myra for treating her brother so badly. Her plan was to pay back Myra by blaming her for Boyd’s murder, throw suspicion onto her so it looked like a Myra-Boyd caper. Myra would find the gun in her house and get her prints all over it. I’ll bet you the murder weapon was wiped clean and then had nice fresh prints from Myra and then Ryan when he put it in his safe.”

  “You’re exactly right about the prints. So I need to talk with her. You believe she shot Boyd. With all these suspicions I don’t want her running around free.”

  “Please, Dom, I need her free for another couple of days. And then all my attention will be focused on Jane.” She stood and walked behind his desk to check out the awards and commendations embellishing the wall. “So, you’re a good cop, huh?”

  He didn’t care to discuss it. He moved his arm to cover her business card; the only card under the glass on his desk. She walked on around his cubicle and sat back down. “Tonya Rhodes is back on my list as a possible Jane. You remember her?” she asked.

  “I’ve been paying attention to her ever since you gave me her name.” He opened the case file on his desk. “We confiscated the Glock you told me she had and tested it. It’s not the Myra Cramer murder weapon. We’ve also determined she has no unusual bank account activity. Regardless, Tonya remains one of my suspects for killing Myra.”

  “I have her twenty-year-old arrest report I’ll give you. Went to prison for manslaughter, but she was robbing the guy and shot him.” She moved her chair closer to his desk. “What if Tonya were lying about being all sappy and lovesick over Boyd as some kind of cover? Maybe that Glock she placed on that coffee table was the same one held to my head out there in the Everglades?” Sandy explained she was just tailing Gail an hour ago and observed the dark blue Honda SUV. “Maybe that was Tonya following Gail. She wants that money.”

  He referred to the file on his desk. “Tonya doesn’t drive a dark blue Honda—has a brown Chevy.” He leaned back. “Believe me I want Jane as much as you do. You’ve convinced me that whoever ransacked Myra house was looking for your extortion money. And when interrupted killed Myra Cramer. Finding that person will wrap up my case, in addition to wrapping up yours.”

  She nodded. “That person is Jane, and I’ll bet she was driving the Honda SUV following Gail.”

  “You’re probably right. That person is after the money.”

  “That’s why they say follow the money. Get close to the money and interesting characters start popping up.”

  He slowly shook his head. “I’m beginning to believe you’re the one I should have been tailing from the very start.”

  “So I did get through to you with some of the info I was giving you.”

  “Oh, you got through to me.”

  She wondered if the detective would truly leave all this in her hands. “Dom, just trust me for a few more hours. I’ll brief you again on everything and let you know when you can interrogate Gail.” She didn’t want his men following Gail and upsetting the plan to find the cash.

  “Sandy, I can’t halt my investigation and put everything on hold for you. I got men out there right now waiting for me to tell them what to do next. So far you’ve come up with more than any of them, but I can’t just turn the investigation over to you.”

  “Twenty-four hours, Dom. I need twenty-four hours. Now please don’t roll your eyes.”

  “You’re saying by this time tomorrow evening you’re going to know who Jane is, and I can close my Myra Cramer murder case?” He studied her face for a minute, “At this point, I’m going to rely on my years of experience dealing with shady characters and state that I know you are lying to me. You just want more time and haven’t the slightest idea of whether you can accomplish anything in the next twenty-four hours or twenty-four days. I’d bet my pension on it.”

  “Come on, you’ve other cases. Do this for me. Sit on this for a couple of days or so. Say you’re waiting for information from an informant.”

  “Oh, you’re good.” He stared at the case file for a moment and then pushed it aside. “Oh, hell, maybe I can go to work for you after they fire me. Get out of here.”

  “Thanks for everything, Dom. She gave him a smile he’d not soon forget. “Before I leave do you have anything on this guy?” She handed him Brad Powell’s business card.

  The detective swiveled to his computer and clicked a few keys. After two minutes, “Nothing, Brad Powell is clean as far as the law is concerned.” He gave the card back to her. “Do I dare ask why?”

  “He’s an old boyfriend of Gail’s. I doubt if he conspired with her, but he might have some information. I’m meeting him tonight at his car lot. “

  “So, he might be dangerous.”

  “Only to naïve women.”

  “Well, that lets you out.”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Brad’s Premium Cars was lit up like a sparkler, with flashing lights and whirly-propeller things giving a fleeting impression to the public that something must be going on. Certainly, nothing was happening as Sandy drove up, not a customer in sight. Brad was expecting her. He saw her drive up and trotted over. “Park in back, Sandy, behind the office. Old Dixie can get rough after dark. I don’t want anyone getting any ideas about your flashy car.”

  She drove her small convertible around the building. No cruising punks could see her car back there, but for similar reasons, no good guys would know she was in the building with him. She was pleased to note that the rear yard was well lighted with overhead floodlights. She was surprised to see a flashy Mercedes SLK Roadster there. She parked beside it. The office manager, Doreen, was supposed to be here. Where was her car, she wondered? By then he’d walked around the building. “It’ll be safe there.”

  She started walking back around the building. He put his hand on her arm. “No, we’ll go in this way.” He opened the rear door of the building and they stepped inside.

  The evening had turned hot and muggy and it was blessedly cool inside. “My office,” he announced making a sweeping gesture with his hand. He motioned her to an older wood armchair. He leaned against the desk in front of her. “Any trouble finding the place here after dark? Where do you live anyway?”

  “Staying in West Palm just now.”

  “I never did ask what you did for a living or any of that.”

  “Is your office manager out front?”

  “Oh, I should have told you. After you left this afternoon, Doreen wasn’t feeling well. I told her to go home.”

  “Oh, my. Isn’t that a surprise? I certainly hope she gets to feeling better.”

  “I know what you’re thinking and wouldn’t blame you, if you wanted to leave right now. In fact, you can leave anytime. But first, maybe you’ll explain something about me.”

  “I don’t want to talk about you. Just tell me about Gail. You said you might be able to help me with the source of her money.”

  “That isn’t exactly what I meant. Sandy, I want you to know that I was very attracted to you when you showed up earlier today.”

  “For chrissake Brad. You can do better than that.”

  “I know...just listen. When you first appeared, I tried to be as pleasant as I could, but you brushed me off immediately. Frankly, I’ve really been messing up my life the last few years. I want to get away from these meanin
gless physical relationships and find someone with brains. I could have done a lot better than Gail. I get a more sincere feeling about you.”

  “I understand,” she said, “you’re looking for a meaningful quickie.”

  He moved away from his desk and walked out through the doorway into the showroom part of the building. He glanced back at her “Hold on just a minute.”

  She heard some minor clicking and clanking, then was startled when all the lights out front and around the car lot went off. Another click and the showroom also went dark. Only the lights in his office remained on.

  “Just closing time. Don’t be alarmed.” He walked back over to her.

  This was unacceptable. “I’m out of here.”

  “Of course, you can leave now. I want you to leave before you get upset with me.” He stepped over close in front of her. “I’ve failed miserably. Just tell me how I went so wrong with you,”

  “I don’t do therapy.” She started to get up.

  Suddenly, the showroom door banged open and a woman stormed into the office in a blur of coral colored jacket, white tennis skirt and basket-weave wedges. “I’ve caught you this time, you cheating bastard.”

  “Sweetheart! What are you doing here?”

  “You had to meet a customer late at the office you told me. You’re always meeting customers late, but it’s always this same customer, isn’t it?” She glared at Sandy. “She must buy a lot of cars from you.”

  “It’s not what you think,” he protested.

  Sandy jumped from the chair and stepped away from him. “Hey, I’m not part of this, lady, I just walked in here. Just talking to this guy. I’m from out of town, here investigating a case. Looking for a suspect. I’m a lawyer.”

  “You are? Tell me, do I need a lawyer for the first time I kill someone? Women like you will hike your skirt for anyone’s husband and never consider who you’re hurting.”