by A. L. Jambor
“She wouldn’t have been able to fight him off.”
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
Mel smiled. “Again? Really? No, I’m not.”
“Well, I could go for some ice cream.” Conner started the car and backed out of the street, turned left, and drove to Ulmerton Road. “There’s a creamery place in the mall.”
Mel did order a chocolate chip cone. It took her mind off Audrey for a few minutes, that and watching Conner eat a banana split.
“That was good,” he said, wiping fudge off his mouth. “I think I’m gonna go to my office and see if I can get a warrant.”
“Can I go with you?” Mel asked.
“Why don’t you go see your friend in Clearwater? I’ll call you if they agree to a warrant.”
“She’s probably on the beach right now,” Mel said.
“But she has a phone with her, right?”
“Yeah, she should.”
“Call her. It’ll be good for you to see someone else for a few hours.”
But I like being with you, she thought. “Okay. You promise you’ll call me?”
“As soon as I know. Hey, give me the paperwork you’ve got.”
She pulled the papers she had out of her purse and put them on the seat. He dropped her off at her car. She waved as he pulled away. When she got into her car, she dialed Lisa.
“Hey, it’s me,” Mel said.
“Where are you? I thought you were coming today.”
“I got stuck here. My aunt is missing.”
“Well that sucks.”
“A nice cop is helping me. I have a little time while he works on something and thought I’d come over.”
“Great. I’m on the beach, but you’ll never find us. I’ll go back to the condo so I can bring you over.”
“Who’s with you?”
“A friend from work, Sandy.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll see you in a few.”
Mel pulled up the GPS on her iPhone. It had the condo address on it so all she had to do was touch the screen and follow it to Clearwater Beach.
Chapter 10
The sky had grown cloudy while they were in the office.
“It’s gonna rain,” Conner said.
Marge was at her station on the porch and Maurice was barking.
“Shut up, Maurice,” Marge yelled when she saw them pull up. She recognized Mel and Conner from the day before.
“Hi, Marge,” Mel said as they walked up to the porch. “This is Deputy O’Keefe. He wanted to ask you some questions.”
“Deputy, huh? It’s about time one of you came to talk to me.”
“Any particular reason we should be talking to you?” Conner asked.
“The girl knows. We talked this morning.”
“Marge,” Mel said. “Have you ever seen another man living in my aunt’s house?”
“What do you mean?” Marge asked.
“An older man, say, around sixty,” Conner said.
“No. Just the kid. I complained to Bea about it.”
“Who’s Bea?” Conner asked.
“The manager,” Marge said.
“The manager’s name is Nancy,” Mel said.
“Not that one, the one before. I told her that kid didn’t belong here. He was doing something to annoy Maurice and I wanted him out.”
“What did she say?” Conner asked.
“She said what she always said, that she’d look into it. The woman never did a damn thing the whole time she was here.”
Conner was watching the dog. He kept sniffing, then barking, and his eyes were trained on something across the street.
“How long has Maurice been barking?” Conner said.
“Three months.”
“And you’re sure you’ve never seen an older man living there?”
“I’ve never seen anyone but that boy. Are you gonna do something to get him out?”
“We’re working on it,” Conner said. “Thanks for your help.”
“Yeah,” Marge said. “You’re working on it.”
“Bye, Marge,” Mel said.
They went back to the car and Conner took out his notebook. Mel watched Audrey’s home as he filled in his notes.
“Why would a dog bark when he didn’t before?” she asked. “What would make him do that?”
“He was sniffing a lot,” Conner said. “He smells something he doesn’t like.”
“Coming from my aunt’s house?”
Conner nodded. “We have to get inside again, but I’d rather do it with a warrant. If we find something, we have to be able to use it later on.”
Mel started crying. “I didn’t even know her.”
“She’s still family. And, how old was she?”
“She was in her nineties.”
For the third time since they met in the parking lot that morning, Conner put his hand on hers. She liked the way it felt. “You have a right to be concerned. She was pretty old.”
“She wouldn’t have been able to fight him off.”
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
Mel smiled. “Again? Really? No, I’m not.”
“Well, I could go for some ice cream.” Conner started the car and backed out of the street, turned left, and drove to Ulmerton Road. “There’s a creamery place in the mall.”
Mel did order a chocolate chip cone. It took her mind off Audrey for a few minutes, that and watching Conner eat a banana split.
“That was good,” he said, wiping fudge off his mouth. “I think I’m gonna go to my office and see if I can get a warrant.”
“Can I go with you?” Mel asked.
“Why don’t you go see your friend in Clearwater? I’ll call you if they agree to a warrant.”
“She’s probably on the beach right now,” Mel said.
“But she has a phone with her, right?”
“Yeah, she should.”
“Call her. It’ll be good for you to see someone else for a few hours.”
But I like being with you, she thought. “Okay. You promise you’ll call me?”
“As soon as I know. Hey, give me the paperwork you’ve got.”
She pulled the papers she had out of her purse and put them on the seat. He dropped her off at her car. She waved as he pulled away. When she got into her car, she dialed Lisa.
“Hey, it’s me,” Mel said.
“Where are you? I thought you were coming today.”
“I got stuck here. My aunt is missing.”
“Well that sucks.”
“A nice cop is helping me. I have a little time while he works on something and thought I’d come over.”
“Great. I’m on the beach, but you’ll never find us. I’ll go back to the condo so I can bring you over.”
“Who’s with you?”
“A friend from work, Sandy.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll see you in a few.”
Mel pulled up the GPS on her iPhone. It had the condo address on it so all she had to do was touch the screen and follow it to Clearwater Beach.
Mel dialed Lisa’s number again. She was standing in front of the condo, but Lisa was nowhere in sight. She checked the time on her phone – it was three. She paced. The call went straight to voicemail.
“Don’t tell me you’re missing, too,” Mel said. She hung up and continued to pace the sidewalk. A minute later, Conner called.
“Hey, I had the handwriting checked out. It’s definitely the kid who signed the title to the home.”
“Can you arrest him?” she asked.
“I need more.”
“What more do you need?” she said. She was growing frustrated. “You have proof that he signed her title.”
“But I’m not working as a deputy. I have to bring this to my supervisor and see if he’ll okay an investigation.”
“So what are you waiting for?” she asked.
Conner rolled his eyes. “I’m waiting for something more definitive. She could have been incapacitated and asked him to sign for her. We don
’t know what happened yet.”
“Sorry. I keep forgetting you’re on my side.”
“I’m gonna check out the last address of Jason senior. It’s in Clearwater. I thought maybe you would like to join me. That is, if you’re free.”
Mel looked up and down the sidewalk. She didn’t see Lisa. She wanted to go with Conner.
“Okay. I have to leave a message for my friend. Where should I meet you?”
“There’s a Publix on Gulf-to-Bay near Belcher Road. Don’t rush. There’s a lot of traffic. I’ll wait if I get there first.”
She hung up and dialed Lisa’s number. It went straight to voicemail again.
“Hey, Lisa, I waited but you never showed. I have to go with the cop to another place so I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She hesitated before hanging up. “I hope you’re okay.”
Conner was right – the traffic sucked. It was stop and go all the way up Gulf-to-Bay. It was a major shopping area and Christmas was getting closer every day. The roads wouldn’t get better until January.
She found the Publix and turned into the parking lot. Conner had parked near the end where she would be sure to see him. He smiled and put up his hand in a sort of wave when she parked next to him. She rolled down the window.
“Do you want to use my car again?” he asked.
“You know where we’re going.”
She got out and then got into his car. They headed to the last known address of Jason Frye Sr. It was a mobile home park that had seen better days.
The park had been a nice over fifty-five park in the sixties. The homes were actual trailers – small and placed close to each other. Now, fifty years later, it was a rundown park in a bad part of town. The houses were rusty and the yards unkempt. It was home to drug users and the other dregs of society.
“This place is scary,” Mel said.
“It’s just old. It was probably nice once.”
They found the manager’s office and parked in front of it. It was a small house near the community center. The door was locked and Conner knocked.
A younger woman answered the door. She smiled.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hello, ma’am.” Conner showed her his badge. “Can I ask you about one of your residents?”
“Sure,” she said.
“His name is Jason Frye. This park is his last known address.”
She looked smug. “I’m surprised you don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?” Conner asked.
“That he died. Must be three months ago already.”
Mel looked at Conner. His expression never changed.
“Is there someone occupying his home?” Conner asked.
“No. It still has the yellow tape across the entrance.”
“The police investigated?”
“They had to. They thought he might have been murdered.”
If Conner was surprised, he never showed it.
“Could you tell me where the home is?”
She pointed down the road. “It’s the third one down. 189 I think. He stunk to high heaven. That’s why I called the police. The home may still smell bad. Just an FYI.”
They walked away and headed down the road.
“How long could he have been there if he smelled bad?” Mel asked.
“It doesn’t take long in the heat,” Conner said. “It could have been a couple of days. That lease was signed in September. It could have been right after that.”
“So you think junior did it?”
“It crossed my mind, but if he had, they would have arrested him by now. He’d be the number one suspect.”
They found the number they were looking for, but they didn’t need it – the crime scene tape gave it away. The trailer had an old, screened in porch and the tape ran across the door. Conner pulled it down.
“Won’t you get into trouble for doing that?” Mel asked.
“We can put it back up.”
There was powder residue on the door and the frame.
“They dusted for prints,” Conner said. He opened the door and she followed him inside.
The porch was filled with plastic bags and newspapers. Conner went to the door of the trailer and turned the doorknob. It was locked. He took something out of his pocket and used it to open the door.
“You jimmied the lock!” Mel cried.
“Say it a little louder, why don’t you?” he said.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
They went up the two steps leading into the home and paused. The sun was setting, and inside, the place was dark. Conner pulled out a penlight from his pocket and turned it on.
“What are we looking for?” Mel asked.
“I’m not sure. Just wanted to look around.”
He put the light on the floor in front of him. He took a few steps in and stopped. There was an outline on the floor, and a bloody stain on the carpet.
“He was hit on the head,” Conner said.
“No kidding,” she said.
He ran the light around the room. Jason Frye had died in his living room. Conner was looking for more blood. He found some on the corner of the built-in desk.
“There’s blood on the corner. He hit his head. Maybe he was dizzy and hit the corner going down. That may be why I never heard about this. They might have ruled it an accident.”
“Can we find out?”
“We can check with the locals to see what happened.”
“What are you doing here?”
Mel jumped and turned around. In the doorway was the silhouette of a man.
“I’m a police officer,” Conner said. “I’m investigating Mr. Frye’s death.”
“They already did that,” the man said.
“What do you know about it, sir?” Conner asked.
“Come outta there and I’ll tell you. You ain’t gonna find anything in there anyway.”
The man left the doorway and stood in the porch. Mel went out first, followed by Conner. The man was older, probably in his early seventies. He had a lit cigarette in his hand.
“What’s your name, sir?” Conner asked.
“I’m Joe. I live next door.”
“Did you know Mr. Frye?”
“Yeah, I knew him. Why don’t we go to my house and sit down.”
Mel didn’t want to go into the guy’s house, but Conner was following him. She thought about going back to the car, but she stayed near Conner. The guy had a porch, too, only there were lawn chairs in his. They all sat.
“I complained to the manager about the smell,” Joe said. “It was pretty bad.”
“Do you remember when that was?” Conner asked.
“Sometime near the end of September, I think.
“Did he have any visitors?”
“Nah. Jason was a prick. He didn’t have any friends. Only his kid would show up now and then.”
“Did he visit often?”
“I guess. He used to come here in a big car.”
“What color was it?” Mel asked.
“Red I think. That dark red. They’ve got a name for it.”
“Burgundy,” Mel said.
“Yeah,” Joe said. “Burgundy.”
“When was the last time you saw him here?” Conner asked.
“Geez, it was a while. Maybe during the summer. He had some kind of thing going in Largo.”
“What kind of thing?” Conner asked.
“Some old lady. The kid worked for a water company. Jason told me about it. The kid would deliver her water and she asked him to live with her.”
“Why would she do that?” Mel asked.
“The kid was okay. He wasn’t like his old man. I guess the old lady needed help and she liked the kid.”
“But why would she ask him to live with her?” Mel asked.
“Who knows? Jason told me that she liked the kid. She had a spare room and offered it to the kid so he could help her out, you know, run errands and drive for her, stuff like that.”
Joe took
a drag off his cigarette. Conner could tell he wanted to say something else, but he was stalling. Conner was just about to ask Joe what was on his mind when he began to talk again.
“These places,” he waved his hand around, “you can hear every word. One night they were arguing. The old man wanted to run a con on the woman. He told her that if she sold her house to him, junior would work for her for nothin’.”
“He wanted the woman to sign over her house in exchange for services?” Conner asked.
“Yeah. The kid didn’t want to, though. That’s why they argued.”
Joe paused. He took a few drags off his cigarette.
“The old man drank. He was always three sheets to the wind. He bragged about his plan. He thought he was some criminal mastermind. Only I guess the lady wasn’t buyin’ it. She told him no.” Joe took another drag from his cigarette. He coughed for about a minute, then took a deep breath. “She told the kid to get out. I heard Jason yellin’ at the kid one night. The kid said she told him to leave.”
“Did you tell the police about this?” Conner asked.
“No.” Joe crushed his cigarette in the ashtray on the floor next to his chair. “It wasn’t my business.”
“But it’s relevant,” Conner said.
“I didn’t want to rat on him. He was dead. What was the point?”
“But his son might have killed him.”
“He didn’t die that night. The night he died, the kid wasn’t around. No red car. Oh, burgundy car. Besides, I’d have heard them fighting. Jason was drunk and fell. He hit his head. End of story.”
“Shit,” Conner said quietly. “Is there anything else you haven’t told the police?”
Joe shook his head. He reached into his pocket and took out another cigarette. As he lit it, Conner stood.
“What’s your last name?” Conner asked.
“Why do you need that?” Joe said.
“Your last name?”
“Welsh.”
“Thanks.”
Conner began to move and Mel got up and followed. They walked back to the car and when they got there, Conner made notes on the conversation they’d had with Joe Welsh. He noted the house numbers, too.
“What do you think?” Mel asked.
“I think he fell and hit his head. If the kid had been there, Joe would have told the police.”