* * *
Ellen was glad to see Devon home watching a football game. This was going to be tricky. She couldn’t remove things, but she could move them to where Roger and Paul would see them. She went into Devon’s office at the end of the house. Oh whew! It stunk.…wet dog, cigars, filth…..geesh. She adjusted her sensor and pretended she was Roger and Paul. What could they see from where they would sit? There was a metal in-box type file sitting on the far right hand corner of the desk. Ellen turned it around, so the open side faced the “company” chair. She started looking for documents of interest for Roger and Paul. She went through her notes from when they were there before. All of the photogenic memories of the girls were there. Lowes receipt Christmas Eve day, she put that with a piece of tape right on the front. She found the trust account notice for a Sandy Nelson and the marriage certificate for Sandy Nelson and James Devon, Oct 28, 2011. She went over to the dog bed in the corner. The dog was outside, and she scooped up a big ball of dog hairs and put it on one of the seats.
On Devon’s computer she pulled up his web browser history and hit print. It printed his favorite porn sites and a couple of Google searches. Might be something. She was really moving fast. She went back to the secretary’s desk in the living room and tried to just look at what was lying on the surface. She had to be careful. Devon was watching TV, and his recliner was only about nine feet away from her. Unfortunately, his secretary was very neat, and the only things showing were phone message receipts and some billing folders. There wasn’t any way to move those without Devon seeing.
Just then he shot up from his chair and went to the window, “What the Hell?” He was thinking, “Shit, I bet it’s the damn IRS! Bastards come on Christmas.” He grabbed a shirt from the couch, shook it out, put in on over his dirty tee, slipped his filthy feet into some loafers, and headed toward his office door on the other side of the house.
Roger and Paul had knocked on the door a minute or so before Devon got there. Devon opened the door and was about to speak when Paul flipped opened his badge and said, “Attorney James Devon?” Devon nodded. “I am Supervisory Special Agent Paul Casey, and this is Supervisory Special Agent Roger Dance, FBI. We apologize for bothering you on Christmas, but we are working a very important case in South Bend. We need your help.”
Ellen could hear Devon’s thoughts, “FBI…not IRS…cool.” Man he is arrogant Ellen thought. Devon was opening the door wide and smiling, “Not a problem guys, just watching the game. Come on in.” Devon’s’ office was very small, so it didn’t take long for him to be at his side of the desk. Roger and Paul took seats across from him. Devon noticed his computer screen on and excused himself for a second while he closed it down. Roger motioned for Paul to look at the documents next to him. Paul was doing a good job of speed reading when Devon twirled his chair back to face them. “Okay, what can I do for you?” Roger noticed Devon’s shirt was buttoned wrong. He must have dressed in a hurry.
“We are working the recent murders in South Bend. I’m sure you have been reading about them. We have noticed that you have connections to four of our victims.”
Devon didn’t bat an eye, “Yeah, I was thinking the other day you guys might want to know how I knew these people.” He started an obviously well-rehearsed version of how he had known Nettie for years, met Darla through her relationship with Nettie, dropped Darla off at her home after the cemetery, handled the estate for Burna, and had Ginger witness a document for him at the hospital. All very innocent.
Roger asked, “Just for the record, I have a couple of dates if you could check your calendar and tell us where you were. Then we can finish this up and let you get back to your game. The first one is Sunday, Nov 6, afternoon?”
Devon looked at his calendar, “Really didn’t need to look at that because Sundays I am always home in the afternoon. You know day of rest and all.”
Roger continued, “Okay, the day before Thanksgiving, Nov 23rd.”
Devon looked like he was thinking hard about that, “Day before Thanksgiving. I don’t think I had any court cases that day. Let me look at my calendar here…. I think I was just working here in the office all day.”
Roger gave him another chance, “Didn’t do any shopping for Turkey Day? A lot of the stores are closed on Thanksgiving.”
Devon laughed a little, “I don’t do Thanksgiving. What makes it a holiday for me is, I don’t get any crazy clients coming around. I think I just stayed here that day. Yeah, I was here all day. Anything else?”
Ellen was starting to panic. She went outside, turned herself into the cat, and got Devon’s dog worked into frenzy. Devon got up, went to the side door, and looked out of the small window. “Damn black cat out there teasing my dog! Sorry about that.” They could hear the dog yelping.
“What kind of dog do you have?” Paul asked trying to sound casual.
“A Golden,” Devon answered. He wasn’t going to sit back down, which was his signal for them to leave.
Paul’s arm accidently hit the metal in-box on the corner of the desk and sent the papers flying. They all bent down to pick them up as Paul was saying, “I am so sorry.”
Roger stood, holding a Certificate of Marriage form, “Hey, looks like there is a new Mrs. Devon. October 28th. Congratulations. Is she home?”
James Devon, clearly angry, took the paper from Roger. “Newlywed spat. She went on the honeymoon without me.”
Paul asked, “Where to?”
James Devon was not as good a liar as he thought, and when he answered “Jamaica”, the hairs on Rogers arms stood up.
Roger asked, “Are you going to be joining her soon, in case we need you again?”
Attorney Devon was holding the door open for them to leave, “That’s the plan. I will call you before I leave. Does that work for you?” He shrugged as he said it. Roger gave him a card, and they went to their car.
Roger got into the passenger seat, put on gloves, and pulled an evidence bag from his pocket. When Paul got behind the steering wheel, Roger said, “He’ll be watching us. Go slow behind that Buick. I want to write down the plate.” Paul watched as Roger used tweezers to put a large ball of golden dog hairs in a bag. Then Roger pulled out his notebook and wrote down the numbers of the plate.
Paul pointed, “He’s got the curtain pulled a little there. He is watching us.”
Roger gestured as they got to the corner, “Head north here, and we’ll circle back around to this back street.” They drove a few minutes to get a clear view of the Buick and the side door, and parked in the driveway of an empty home for sale.
“If we put eyes on him, and they are seen, we will spook him,” Roger said.
Paul was staring at the Buick and said, “I’ll run tags and call for flight information from the US to Jamaica from say Oct. 28th, to now for Sandy Devon. Did you see her maiden name?”
Roger answered, “Yes, it was Nelson. I am going to call Ray in Intel and get phone records, background, and financials.”
Paul’s voice boomed, “Oh Jesus! Look who just pulled in.”
Roger looked to Devon’s driveway, and Jack Simpson’s Dodge pickup had parked next to the Buick. “What is he doing?” Roger’s view was obstructed by a small tree. They both had their binoculars.
“Looks like he is putting a note on the windshield,” Paul answered. Just then they saw Devon step outside the door and walk towards Jack. They talked for about ten minutes. Jack was waving his arms and shifting his weight from one side to the other. Devon was standing like a statue. Then Devon put his arm around Jack’s shoulder and walked him back to his office. “Did you see Devon’s smile?” Paul asked Roger.
“Yup,” Roger answered. “Devon just got his Christmas gift, and we just got screwed.” They both knew they would have a rough time getting a subpoena for a phone tap and office bug on an attorney with no real evidence. Add to that, another suspect has retained him for counsel. “We still can’t be sure these guys aren’t working together. We can put a tail on Simpson.”
Roger’s voice trailed off.
“That’s probably the only thing we can do.”
Roger called and made arrangements for the tail on Jack, and they waited until the unmarked car arrived. Ray called and said he was sending feed to Roger’s computer unfiltered. Roger preferred to get unfiltered info. More than once some tech thought something wasn’t important, and it was never shared. Ray also said it would be the next day before they had all of the airline info requested. The holiday had the airlines all short staffed, and his people were not even there. Roger had him pull anything he could get on Sandy Nelson Devon also. “I need cell records on all three of these people and place a tracer on them all …24/7…auto feed copy to me.” Roger clicked his phone shut. He spoke out loud to himself, “How did we ever do this job before technology?”
Ellen had been in the backseat of the car, so she could pick up on what Roger and Paul were thinking. Then she left to go see Betty.
* * *
CHAPTER 15
* * *
Sandy was sitting crossed legged on the bed using a key to dig into the wood at the top of one of the footboard slats. Her eyes stung from her tears. She couldn’t believe that poor woman had been hit by a car after finally escaping. Monster. That had been the woman’s word, and it was true. His parting words to her had been that he brought extra food. Should do her a couple of days. He had plans for Christmas. He was going to get his Christmas present. She knew that meant he was going to kidnap some other woman. She had to keep herself focused, so she could stop him!
Sandy was making some progress, but it was going to take a long time. Her hand was getting blisters. She had wrapped some tissues and toilet paper into a bandage and held it together with a strip of sheet she had torn. She changed position to get more comfortable and started using her left hand. Then she heard a little rustle by the TV. She stopped sawing with her key and saw a little mouse walking on the empty grocery bags by the cooler. “Oh, I have company!” she squealed. She quickly went over and made up a plate of some cracker crumbs, a couple of grapes she pulled apart, and a small piece of cheese. She put the plate on the floor in front of the TV and got back onto the bed to wait. She waited quite a while, and her eye lids were getting heavy. She ended up taking a short nap.
She must have slept for a couple of hours. She peeked outside through the small crack in the boards on the window. It looked like it was starting to get dark. When she looked at the plate on the floor, she saw that most of the food she had set out was gone. “You sneaky little thing!” she said. She made another plate of food for her little mouse friend, ate a sandwich herself and got back to work on sawing. She would saw all night if that is what it took. She wiped her cheek with the back of her bandaged hand. Somebody has to stop him!
* * *
James Devon was humming Jingle Bells as he made a ham sandwich and poured a small glass of milk. He couldn’t believe his luck again! First, Ginger gets hit by a car after escaping, and now this Jack Simpson is who the cops think is killing all these women. He wants ME to represent him! This could actually be fun. In fact, if he can help the cops with their case against Jack, he might not have to leave the States after all. Devon couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping. Actually, it even works out that Sandy is his prisoner at the ‘house.’ He doesn’t have to screw her anymore, just keep her alive ‘til after her birthday. He balanced the milk glass in his elbow while he opened his bedroom door. He sat the sandwich and milk on his night stand and looked at the woman handcuffed to the headboard and footboard. Her eyes flashed sheer terror as he ripped the duct tape from her mouth. He snarled, “Merry Christmas, my pretty Ashley. Let’s get you some food, a nice shower, and then Daddy gets his Christmas present!”
* * *
Joy watched Jack’s pickup pull into the driveway. He got out of the truck carrying a bag of something and a big red poinsettia flower. He made his way over to the porch and sat everything down. He loved on Flea Bag for a while then he went in. Joy met him at the door. “Where in the hell did you go? It’s Christmas! I get up, and you are nowhere!”
She didn’t look very happy, and all Jack could think to say was, “I got you a flower.”
Joy took it from him and said “Thanks.” He didn’t sound drunk, and he didn’t look drunk.
Jack took his coat off and said. “I think I am going to treat myself to a Christmas beer. I haven’t had a beer since yesterday!” He walked over to the fridge where Joy handed him a beer and got one for her.
Jack pulled a kitchen chair out for her and said, “Wait ‘til you hear the good news!” Joy’s eyebrows went up, you never knew with Jack. “The POlice do not consider me a suspect in these murders!”
Joy nearly choked on her beer. “What makes you think that?”
Jack leaned back in his chair, “Because they told me that today. I went to the police station and asked them why they were following me around.”
Joy couldn’t believe her ears, “You did WHAT?”
Jackspokeslower, “I-went-to–the-police-station…”
Joy smacked his head, “I know what you said you crazy fool! What happened?” He told her about his meeting with Paul, and Paul had said he wasn’t a suspect. He was just interesting. He went to leave a note at that lawyer’s office she told him about. It turned out the lawyer was home, and said that he didn’t have to give him any money yet. If the police talked to him again to give him a call. He would help.
Joy looked at him for a minute, “Jack did the police officer say you were interesting, or a person of interest?”
“Yeah, I think that other way is the way he said it. But I’m telling you Joy, he was real nice. I think all of this shit is over, for us anyway.” As he said that, Joy noticed a dark sedan park down the street facing their house and turn its lights out. Jack unpacked the grocery bag, “Hey, I picked up some stuff for making chili dogs. You hungry?”
“Yeah, I could eat something. I’ll make ‘em in a minute.”
Jack stood and took a bow, “I’ll cook tonight. Another Christmas present for you, my Lady!” He made his way over to the stove, found a large fry pan, and turned to Joy. “You know the last time I saw this thing, it was flying at my head!” They both laughed.
Jack fell asleep watching TV, and Joy decided to take a walk. She got up next to the parked car and knocked on the window. The black glass slowly lowered, and Joy saw a man in a suit looking back at her. “I saw this on TV once,” she said. She handed him a couple of chili dogs wrapped in foil. “They’re chili dogs, good ones too. I warmed ‘em up for you. I know you have to do your job, but Jack is not your guy. He has a way of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. I just wanted to let you know.” Detective Ed Mars watched her walk back to the house and turn the back porch light on. He ate the chili-dogs. They were great. He called Roger and told him what had happened. Roger told him to stay put. He would call him back in a couple of hours.
* * *
The entire task force was carefully sifting through all of the data being printed out from Roger’s computer. Roger had to change the ink cartridges twice and had gone around stealing paper from everyone else’s printers. Paul and Roger both were worried about fatigue and told everyone to cross review. Select fifty pages of data, finish reviewing, highlight items in question, and pass it on to the guy on your right. They announced that everyone had to leave at 10:00 p.m.. Their families needed them, and they needed a night’s sleep. There was going to be a lot of work to do tomorrow.
Ten o’clock came, and everyone honored the order to go home. It had been a long day for them, and it was Christmas. Earlier Roger had called Chief Doyle to update him on their new suspicion. The Chief had started his detectives gathering everything they could on both Simpson and Devon. He thought they had amassed a lot of data until he saw the reams of paper coming from the FBI. That didn’t count the stuff being sent for scan viewing only. He had his best computer guys on those. By 10:00 they all needed the break.
The halls were almost
silent as Roger and Paul stood looking out the big window toward the parking lot watching the huge snowflakes. There wasn’t a lot of accumulation, just enough to call it a white Christmas. Paul noticed he hadn’t seen the cat. “Where’s your buddy?” he asked Roger.
“I haven’t seen him for a while. Must have slipped out when someone came in. I’ll keep my door open in case he needs the box.” Roger smiled, then said, “I think this day is over. I’m ready to make the call to Ed and pull him off Jack for the night.”
Paul looked thoughtful, “Your call.”
Roger snapped his phone open and dialed, “Ed, can you be back on it about 5:00 a.m.? Yeah, thanks.” Our manpower on this is thin as it is, Roger thought.
Paul said, “I’m heading to the hotel. See ya in the morning.” Roger nodded and walked to his office. He watched the steady stream of e-mails coming from Ray, put his coat on, and headed out the door. In the ‘room’, lights out, papers were flipping and a marker pen occasionally made a mark. Ellen was working as fast as she could and watching the clock. The gals would be here at 12:01.
* * *
12:01 in the conference room at police center, the gals had arrived and were talking about their visits home. I could tell from what everyone was saying that their loved ones couldn’t see or hear them. Maybe it was some kind of mistake or fluke that Kim saw me. Maybe she won’t ever be able to see me again. Teresa looked at me, “You are being unusually quiet.” I wondered if she could read my mind. Teresa’s hair is on fire! Nothing, I’m still safe.
“It is not,” Mary said. “Safe from what?”
I might as well spill the beans, “Kim could see and hear me this whole visit.” Everyone looked shocked. I was afraid they would be mad at me. Then Ellen and Betty appeared at our table.
Ellen spoke first, “Betty and I have been told that Granny arranged that. We have to assume she has her reasons.”
Alcohol Was Not Involved : A Shallow End Gals Trilogy Page 12