Double Trouble

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Double Trouble Page 14

by Scott Wittenburg


  As though he could read his mind, Fleming closed out of the program and put the computer to sleep. “What would you say to dinner? I don’t know about you but I’m famished.”

  “Me, too.”

  He glanced at the clock and said, “Natalie will be expecting us about now. I hope you’re not vegetarian—I already took the liberty of choosing steak and lobster.”

  “Definitely not a vegetarian and if I were, I would have to seriously reconsider with that menu.”

  Fleming chuckled. “Excellent. You’re in for a treat—Natalie is, among other things, an excellent chef.”

  Alan followed his host to the elevator.

  CHAPTER 14

  The morning after her tour of Sheriff Foley’s antiques, Amanda sat at her uncle’s kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee. Earlier she had given Ken her account of what had happened and realized in the process that she would have to level with Alan as well. Although Alan would no doubt be pissed that she’d gone against his order not to mess with the sheriff, he would be even angrier with her for holding back on him and not being truthful. Not a good way to begin their new partnership.

  Her uncle had been shocked and vengeful after hearing of Foley’s attempted assault on her. His first impulse had been to report Foley and “make the bastard pay for trying to molest my niece.” But Amanda pointed out that having the incident to hold over the sheriff’s head would be much more valuable and that the case could potentially be compromised if she reported the incident. Her uncle had reluctantly agreed.

  Amanda started to call Alan with her report but decided to put it off until after she phoned Nick. She hadn’t spoken to him since their first meeting and was curious how he was holding up. She picked up her phone and punched in his cell number. She got his voicemail and left a message for him to call her.

  Heaving a sigh, she called Alan.

  “I was just getting ready to call you,” he answered.

  “How’s it going in Massachusetts?”

  “Pretty well. I’m heading back to Columbus actually—my flight’s in twenty minutes. Got a lot to tell you, but first you tell me how the case is going.”

  “Well, I think Blaine is a bust. I found out that he was in fact mowing lawns the morning of Jodi’s murder. That is if we can believe his Facebook posts.”

  “That’s how you corroborated his alibi—social media?” Alan said, the cynicism obvious in his voice.

  “Well, yes—I did. You don’t think that’s viable? Do you want me to use a more traditional method instead?”

  Amanda knew she sounded defensive because she was.

  “Oh, no—that’s fine. Just a little subject to uh, some doubt. I mean, the guy could just as easily have posted that the world was going to end at midnight. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “I guess you’re right. But I just don’t think that Blaine—”

  “Is bright enough to fake his whereabouts on Facebook in order to create a solid alibi? I agree—the guy’s a freaking dimwit. In fact, I think you probably just saved a lot of time by going that route.”

  “I’m glad you said that. For a minute I thought you were making fun of me. And I was going to remind you that using Facebook was how I found out what he looks like. That saved a lot of time, too.”

  “It no doubt did. So what else have you been up to?”

  “Well, I checked out the memory card you found in Jodi’s trunk and it was blank. Another dead-end, I’m afraid.”

  “Shit. Oh well, anything else?”

  “You’re gonna be mad at me.”

  There was a brief pause. “Why’s that?”

  “I sort of did a little investigation of the sheriff.”

  “Don’t tell me he found you out,” Alan said dismally.

  “Oh, nothing like that. I didn’t tail him or anything—I just sort of happened to run into him at one of the local night clubs.”

  She proceeded to tell Alan all that had happened, up to the appearance of the sheriff’s son, before they had left Foley’s house.

  “Brilliant!” he said. “So you practically threw yourself at the guy just to pump him for information? Don’t you think that was a little risky, Amanda?”

  “Maybe a little. At least I found out that he has no eyewitnesses who saw Nick around Jodi’s that morning. It was just a rumor after all. That’s pretty important if you ask me.”

  “I agree—assuming that Foley is telling the truth. But even if he is, you shouldn’t have put yourself in harm’s way like that—especially after I specifically told you not to get mixed up with him.”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s telling the truth, first of all. He has no reason not to when you think about it. What would he have to gain? Secondly, yes I went against your orders and I apologize for that. But I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think I could handle myself. The man is gargantuan, and therefore incredibly slow on his feet—especially after a few drinks. I knew I could handle him and I did. It’s all good, Alan.”

  “Okay, I’m not gonna make a big deal out of this. And I’d be lying if I said that what you found out isn’t important. But you have to promise me that you’ll lay off and let things cool down with the sheriff, okay? He could give you a real hard time, trust me—especially now that you have basically emasculated him.”

  “I promise, I’m done with the sheriff. Now for the interesting part. Right before we left his home, his son suddenly showed up. Name’s Mark. Mark said he’d just dropped by to pick up some beer and it was quite obvious that the sheriff was not pleased with his lousy timing. Now guess what his son was driving.”

  “What?”

  “A sheriff’s department patrol car—and he is not on the force.”

  “Hmm. So you think he could be a suspect.”

  “Could be. I mean, we know that there was a cruiser in the area of the Wilburn home that morning and that the sheriff seemed put off when he’d heard that. Maybe his son has something to do with all of this.”

  “Sounds like a long shot. But on the other hand, not a total impossibility. You going to follow up on it?”

  “Yup. I’ve already found out where Mark lives. But before I do anything else I’m going to see what I can find out about him. Uncle Ken told me he’s pretty sure that Foley is a realtor. Works for Chapter/Palmer Realty on the hilltop. I think I’ll go do a little snooping around their office.”

  “Sounds good. But be careful if you tail him—if he sees you he might mention it to Daddy.”

  “I sort of doubt he’d do that. The two don’t seem to get along very well. In fact, I don’t think they’re particularly fond of one another from what I saw.”

  “Well, keep me informed. Without going into details, I’m going to do the job for Ron Fleming. I’ll tell you more but I can’t right now.”

  “Why do I have a feeling you’ve sworn to not speak about it on your iPhone?”

  “Because you’d be absolutely right. Since I’m now working for the man, I have to abide by his rules.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure, what?”

  “Do you really think I can handle this case? Or are you just letting me go through the motions until you can come back down and take over?”

  “That’s ridiculous—of course I think you can handle it or I wouldn’t have left you there. In fact, I’m impressed with how much you have accomplished in just twenty-four hours. I’ll admit I was a hesitant at first about doing this, but now I truly feel that the case is in capable hands.”

  Amanda wondered if he could tell she was beaming right now. “Thanks for saying that, Alan. It really means a lot to me. And I promise I won’t let you down.”

  “I know you won’t. I do miss you, though.”

  “I miss you, too. So hurry up and do whatever you have to do for Fleming and get your ass back down here to God’s country, okay?”

  “You got it. Better go now. I’ll call you when I’m back in Columbus. Take care.”

  “Okay, bye.”

>   Amanda took a sip of coffee, relieved that Alan hadn’t raked her over the coals about the sheriff incident. She felt that part of the reason he hadn’t been overly angry was because he already knew first hand that she was capable of defending herself. She could still see the shocked look on his face after she had overpowered the murderer in his last big case. Those self-defense courses had saved the day—and quite possibly her life.

  No time to gloat, she thought guiltily. After draining her coffee she showered, got dressed and started up Ken’s Jeep.

  After ending the call from Amanda, Alan stood up, awaiting the call for first class passengers to board. It had been a whirlwind morning from the moment he had awakened to the sound of waves crashing the shore through Ron Fleming’s open spare bedroom window. He had no sooner arisen to scope out the view than there was a knock on the door. It was Natalie calling him down to breakfast.

  The meal, consisting of eggs Benedict, English muffins, crisp bacon, hash browns and freshly ground gourmet coffee had been delicious but brief. As they ate, Fleming had apologized for ending Alan’s visit so hastily and promised to invite him back after he had completed his work in Columbus. Alan expressed his regret for not having more time to stay and agreed to return to make up for it.

  Half and hour later Natalie had driven him to the airport and wished him well. On his way to the terminal he wondered if there was more going on between her and Fleming beyond her caregiver/housekeeping relationship. He sort of doubted it, but one never knows.

  He boarded the plane and throughout the flight reflected on the game plan Fleming had devised and focused on what he was to do when he arrived in Columbus. The first thing on the agenda was to make contact with some of the people who were actively using children for sex—the clients, so to speak. Fleming had hacked his way into a deep web chat room where local participants traded stories about their sexual escapades with kids as if they were discussing their best game of golf on the links. In the transcript Fleming showed him, the dialogue was detailed and disgusting, nearly making him sick to his stomach. To read in detail the blow-by-blow account of an adult man sexually assaulting a child as young as seven years old had been mind-numbing. Then reading another man’s reply that he had had an even better experience doing this and that with yet another child had left Alan’s heart heavy and filled with anger.

  Somehow he was to mingle with the likes of this subhuman species in this chat room and act as though he was as demented as they were. Alan’s first thought was that he couldn’t do it. He was no actor by any stretch of the imagination and they would be on to him as soon as he typed his first text. Fleming promptly countered; telling him that all he had to do was remember what he was doing this for and that would be sufficient to get him through.

  Alan still had his doubts.

  At any rate, if and when it seemed he had been accepted as one of the group, he was to attempt to find out the source for these exploited children. Fleming informed him that contact info regarding the suppliers was never discussed on the chat line and would therefore have to be initiated in person. It was Fleming’s hope that after Alan gained their trust he could set up a meeting with these people. Then he would attempt to find out how to go about procuring a victim for his own use. He would “place his order,” so to speak and hope to hit pay dirt.

  Alan knew this plan was rife with potential problems. To present himself as a pedophile in search of some action would be difficult enough. Then to do it convincingly enough for somebody to share his source of child victims was even more of a stretch. Furthermore, this all had to be carried out as quickly as possible, before the trail went cold.

  But there was yet another problem. Due to recent local media coverage resulting from a couple of his cases, there was a good chance he would be recognized and the whole case would be compromised. When he had mentioned this possibility to Fleming, Alan’s client had simply smiled and replied, “then just do whatever it takes to make yourself unrecognizable.”

  Right.

  This had set Alan’s wheels turning into overdrive.

  CHAPTER 15

  Amanda had rethought her strategy: instead of stopping by Mark Foley’s real estate office she would case out his home first and see what she could find out. She realized that a stranger in town dropping in just to ask questions about one of the company’s realtors would immediately raise suspicions.

  She was able to find out where the sheriff’s son lived by simply doing a Google search on her phone. His home was located on the other side of town from his father’s in one of Milldale’s oldest neighborhoods. As she drove by, she noticed the sheriff cruiser parked in the driveway and wondered how long his own car had been in the shop. If she found out that it had been taken in after Jodi’s murder she could save herself some time. That would virtually eliminate Mark as a suspect. The only problem was how to find out.

  As she circled the block, she stopped at a stop sign long enough to Google body shops in the area and found listings for three. One was located not far from where she now was and the other two were downtown. She decided she would check out the nearest one on the off chance she could spot a light blue 1973 Corvette on site after she was done here. She’d discovered the make of his car from Uncle Ken, who happened to know what Foley drove.

  She pulled onto Foley’s street again and parked a few houses away from his home. Just as she started to turn off the ignition she saw the sheriff cruiser back out of the driveway. Foley was headed in the other direction so she pulled out onto the street and followed him.

  The man had no idea what kind of car she drove so as long as she kept back far enough to avoid being recognized she would be safe tailing him. With luck, maybe he was going to check on his wrecked ‘Vette, but that would probably be asking too much.

  Maintaining several car lengths between them, Amanda followed the sheriff’s son half way across town. Shortly after he pulled away from a stop street, he suddenly sped up for a block or so and then came to a screeching stop. Amanda knew the moment that his door flew open and he ran back toward the Jeep she had blown it.

  “Well, if it isn’t Ms. Linville from Columbus,” he hollered, smiling as he strode swiftly toward her. Amanda had little choice but to stomp on the brakes to avoid hitting him. “You aren’t by any chance following me are you?”

  With a groan, Amanda pulled over to the curb and waited for him to come over.

  “You’re blocking the road,” she said.

  “I know. But if I pull over, you’ll take off and then we won’t be able to chat.”

  She thought for a moment. “I won’t pull out.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “You don’t. You’ll just have to chance it.”

  He grinned and said, “Guess I will.”

  He jogged back to the cruiser, backed up and parked in front of Amanda. He put it into park, got out and walked directly to the passenger side door of the Jeep and hopped in.

  “Nice Jeep—your uncle’s, right?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in a tiny town where everybody knows what everybody else drives. I saw this baby in my rear view mirror and it didn’t take a genius to see that it wasn’t Ken Barker behind the wheel.”

  “But how did you know he’s my uncle?”

  “Deductive reasoning. I ran into Summer and her buddies last night at One Eye’s and she told me they’d left you at the Holiday Inn with Pops earlier. Mentioned that you were Barker’s niece.”

  “I’ve forgotten how fast word travels in this tiny town,” she said drily.

  “Sorry I couldn’t stay longer when I saw you last night, by the way. Pops wasn’t exactly giving off the vibe that I should stick around. What were you doing there, if you don’t mind my asking? Or is that a sensitive question?”

  “If you’re wondering if I was there for any sort of romantic interlude with your father the answer is no. He had invited me to his home to see his antique coll
ection—that’s all.”

  “I see. And did he just so happen to slip and hit his head against one of his rare pieces to get that welt on his jaw or did he really get injured at work? Or maybe it was something else?”

  “What are you driving at?”

  “Listen, Miss Linville—Amanda, isn’t it? Everybody in this town knows my dad likes hitting on the young women and this wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten himself a battle scar. You’d think the old fart would start learning that no one wants his fat ass.”

  “You apparently aren’t too fond of your father.”

  He laughed. “How can you tell?”

  “To borrow your phrase, it doesn’t take a genius. So tell me, do you often just pop into your dad’s house to pick up a beer and then leave like that?”

  “That was a lie—obviously. Truth be told, I went over to the Holiday after I heard that Pops was there with you. One of the servers told me he’d just left with some beautiful chick that nobody had ever seen before. So I decided to go check out what the old man was up to.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Two reasons, really. One was, I was kinda curious about this strange new woman in town. The other was, just to annoy the old fart.”

  “Isn’t that a little childish—dropping in on your dad while he’s entertaining somebody just to piss him off?”

  “Okay, I’ll level with you. I wanted to see what you looked like.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Curious, that’s all.”

  “Summer didn’t tell you why I’m in town?”

  “She told me that you and some guy are investigating Jodi Wilburn’s murder.”

  “So isn’t that the real reason why you dropped by your father’s last night? To find out about the case?”

  “Of course not. I mean, I’m a little curious, yeah. But more curious about you then the case.”

  He’s so full of shit, Amanda thought. None of this made any sense.

 

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