Voted Out

by J. S. Marlo

  With any luck, her friend would answer in the next twenty minutes. If not, Liliane would go alone, but it would be nice to bounce back supper scenarios with Nathalie during her workout.

  The reply appeared on her iPhone a few minutes later. Nathalie would meet her there.

  ~ * ~

  As she pulled out of her garage to leave for the gym, Liliane noticed an unfamiliar car parked in front of her second neighbor’s house. It struck her as weird since these neighbors had left on a three-week vacation to Prince Edward Island with their five kids. The car could belong to the guest of a different neighbor, a neighbor who didn’t want the rest of the street knowing he or she entertained a stranger.

  Liliane chuckled. That sounded like something she should have done to prevent her neighbors from gossiping about her private life.

  Before veering onto the main road, she looked into her rear view mirror to make sure the garage door closed—and stayed closed. In the last month, the door had bounced off the ground a few times, and she needed to call someone to service it. She hoped it didn’t necessitate anything more serious or expensive than an adjustment, but in order to book an appointment, she needed to pick a day during which she was home.

  Once the by-election is over, I’ll get you fixed. I promise.

  From the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of light in the passenger’s side mirror when she turned right. Intrigued, she slowed down as she looked over her shoulder.

  The car that had piqued her curiosity had moved, and the rays of the morning sun reflected off its windshield.

  Liliane didn’t spot any silhouette in it, but the idea the driver might have sunk into his or her seat to avoid being seen leaving when her garage door opened amused her. The clock in her car said 6:24.

  Eager to talk to her friend, she accelerated toward the Recreation Center.

  ~ * ~

  Jasper showed up early at the police station to get a crack at the woman waiting in the interrogation room.

  Around midnight, he’d received a message that Jasmin Couture had been picked up in a cheap motel and would be transported overnight to the station. To learn she tried to flee by the bathroom window when the two officers knocked on her door reinforced Jasper’s suspicion that she was somehow involved in Thomas’ death.

  Before entering the room, he flipped through the report handed to him upon his arrival. Had she not attempted to flee, they wouldn’t have possessed any grounds to fingerprint her—yet. The irony that she betrayed herself wasn’t lost on him.

  He entered the interrogation room with the report under his arm. On the floor, in the farthest corner of the room, the woman had adopted a yoga pose for which Jasper didn’t know the name. A full cup of coffee rested on the rectangular table sandwiched between two uncomfortable chairs. Nothing suggested she sat or drank at the table at all.

  “We need to talk, Jasmin Couture.” Jasper straddled one of the chairs before smacking the report on the table. “Or should I say Brenna Hurton?”

  Aside from her eyes, which flew open, she didn’t flinch or speak.

  “Glad to hear you remember your name, Brenna.” The database didn’t contain anything about a Jasmin Couture, but it beeped like a smoke detector thrown in a pit fire when it matched her prints to Brenna Hurton. “It’s been eleven months since you talked to your probation officer. He’s missing you, Brenna. Vancouver isn’t the same without you.”

  Abandoning her pose, she grabbed the other chair and sat with her back to the wall. “My probation was over. I did nothing to deserve the extension they gave me.”

  According to the report, she broke curfew on three different occasions, but instead of revoking her probation and sending her back to jail, they extended it. She disappeared the next day, changed her name, and resurfaced in his quiet little town.

  “You were found guilty of extortion, blackmail, and identity theft.” Considering her long list of aliases, it didn’t surprise him she succeeded in creating another one. “You were sentenced to four years in prison, served one and a half, then were placed on probation, but forgot your curfew a few times.”

  Her arms crossed over her generous chest, she sneered. “My watch was off by ten minutes. They could have given me a break.”

  The report didn’t contain any details on these missed curfews, but since they showed leniency toward her, Jasper considered the possibility she might be telling the truth—or her version of the truth.

  “We found a picture of Thomas Finch doing yoga au naturel on his phone. Did you send it to him?” Though he suspected she owned the account LotusSpirit@AOL, he hadn’t received confirmation yet. Still, her answer would reveal some of her true colors.

  “Naked yoga is about accepting your own body with all its imperfections.” There was an ethereal quality to the softness and rhythm of her voice. “Thomas embraced it with open arms. He found it liberating. I sent him the picture at his request.”

  That particular scenario hadn’t entered Jasper’s mind. At least she didn’t deny sending it. “Or maybe he didn’t want anyone to know he embraced your yoga classes, so you blackmailed him with the picture. When he refused to pay, you killed him. Then you skipped town.”

  “That’s not how it happened.” She bolted to her feet. “You got it all wrong.”

  While nothing in Brenna’s file indicated violent behavior, Jasper couldn’t rule out a crime of passion. “Then make it right, Brenna. Tell me what happened.”

  She mumbled while pacing the room, but none of the words sounded like lawyer or attorney, so he waited.

  “You may not believe me, but I wanted a fresh start.” The two-way mirror reflected her disheveled image and contemplative expression. “I love yoga and I am a certified instructor. This was the perfect town to make an honest living out of it.” The ghost of a smile touched her lips. “Naked yoga is always a big attraction for men and they are willing to pay big money for private lessons. It paid the rent.”

  Unless these private sessions took place in public, it wasn’t illegal for two or more adults to shed their clothes and stretch in any weird ways their hearts desired.

  So far, he hadn’t identified any criminal behavior. “Were you having an affair with Finch?”

  “No!” A grimace of disgust contorted her face. “The man was a pig. And a sleaze. I don’t know how, but he found out about...about my past. After he asked me for his picture, he started blackmailing me. He threatened to go to the police if I didn’t make videos of his friends during their private naked sessions.”

  Though Jasper remained skeptical, the story appeared to be too convoluted not to be partially true. Still, it gave her motive to kill him. “Friends? What friends?”

  “The guys he referred to me. Prominent citizens, out-of-town clients, suppliers, friends...but the tapes contained nothing compromising.” Her voice rose, accentuating her indignation. “Just imperfect bodies in all their glory.”

  A plausible scenario emerged in Jasper’s mind, one aligned with the victim’s character—one that opened a new pool of suspects. “Are you saying he used the videos you made to blackmail his friends and acquaintances?”

  “I can’t say for sure, but every time one of these clients stopped coming, I wondered why.” She shrugged. “Thomas gave me a generous monthly allowance to compensate for any loss of revenue, and he hired me in the election office...he wanted to add a new layer of respectability to my name.”

  Still, losing clients would damage her reputation, which again gave her motive, so Jasper threw the accusations back in the mix. “But Thomas Finch was still ruining your efforts to lead an honest life, wasn’t he? Any jury would understand you had to kill him to protect yourself, Brenna. It’s almost self-defence.”

  The glare in her eyes looked more lethal than a firing squad. “How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t stab the despicable pig? He liked to remind me his naked picture was on his phone, linked to my email address. If anything happened to him, the police would track me down in a h
eartbeat. Why do you think I panicked when he was murdered? After I emptied my house, I sneaked back into the office, collected my stuff, returned my key, and got the hell out of dodge.” She stilled in front of him. “Are you going to charge me?”

  While he believed her innocent of Finch’s murder, he couldn’t ignore she had violated her probation. “I’ll need the names of Finch’s friends and any videos still in your possession. If you cooperate with my investigation, I’ll exchange good words with your probation officer in Vancouver.”

  She removed a chain from around her neck and handed it to him. A lime green USB memory stick was attached to it. “The names and videos are on it. Am I free to go or do I get to enjoy your cop shop hospitality for the night?”

  With her propensity for disappearing, he couldn’t trust her to stay in town. “We have a comfy private cell with your name on it. An officer will take you there in a moment.”

  Stick in hand, he left the room. Instead of shrinking, his list of suspects had grown longer.

  ~ * ~

  Liliane shared a great workout with Nathalie, but after an hour of sweating and talking, neither of them could envisage a plausible scenario to explain that mysterious supper.

  In the wet parking lot of the Recreation Center, Nathalie held Liliane’s gym bag. “Since it seems fishy, maybe you should serve cod or salmon for supper.”

  Though Liliane realized her friend meant it as a joke, she liked the suggestion. “You know what, that’s not a bad idea. I think I still have a whole salmon in the freezer I could bake.”

  “Don’t bake it, Lily, barbecue it. I have a great recipe if you want it.” Nathalie enjoyed creating fancy meals, but the intricacy of some of her recipes stumped Liliane.

  Done lacing her right running shoe, Liliane sprang up. “Will you come to my rescue if I can’t make heads or tails out of it?”

  “Sure.” A wicked smile stretched across her friend’s face. “The head is the end with the eyes, and the tail looks like mermaid feet.”

  “Very funny.” Rolling her eyes, Liliane snatched her bag. “I’ll see you at the office in a few hours.”

  “Since you’re not giving me a choice, I’ll be there.”

  Nathalie walked away toward the baseball field while Liliane headed toward the golf course. This morning they had parked at different ends of the parking lot. As she neared her car, she pressed on her remote to unlock the door. The engine roared to life, then a deafening explosion reverberated through the morning air.

  Thrown off her feet and catapulted across the lot, Liliane crash-landed in agony.

  ~ * ~

  The emergency call rocked Jasper’s world. It couldn’t be Liliane. Ariana couldn’t have lost her only parent and he couldn’t have lost her.

  While the call to the police dispatch had been vague and frantic, the name of the victim, the nature of the emergency, and the location had resounded as clear and ominous as a death knell. Liliane Irwin. Car explosion. Recreation Center.

  As he rushed to the scene, he couldn’t help but speculate about the incident and the severity of her injuries.

  A multitude of emergency vehicles with their lights flashing occupied the cordoned off section of the parking lot. An officer let Jasper pass. Two firetrucks framed the smoky carcass of a blackened car. Liliane’s car.

  He parked near another police cruiser and noticed a crucial emergency vehicle was absent from the scene. An acrid smell assailed his nostrils as soon as he exited his cruiser. He marched toward the firetruck where an officer chatted with someone wrapped in a dark blanket.

  “Here, Detective.” The officer gestured for him to join them.

  Jasper recognized Officer Austin’s voice, and as he neared he identified the woman. Nathalie Jacobs, Liliane’s friend and training buddy. The haunted look in her eyes did nothing to appease Jasper’s fears.

  “What happened?” While Jasper addressed Austin, he kept Nathalie in his line of vision.

  “The car exploded before Liliane Irwin stepped in it.” The officer pointed toward the shrub hedge growing at the edge of the parking lot. A section looked damaged. “She was thrown in the bushes by the force of the explosion. The ambulance left ten minutes ago. She’s on her way to the hospital.”

  The intertwined branches and twigs would have softened her landing, but she still would have suffered lacerations and bruises. Maybe some broken bones. Or a concussion.

  Before he formed an erroneous prognosis, Jasper bottled up his apprehension and focused his mind on the task at hand. “How is she? Was she conscious? Did she say anything?”

  “She was unconscious but breathing when I ran to her.” Nathalie’s voice quivered. “She came around while the paramedics were extricating her from the hedge. She screamed. There was blood everywhere. She wobbled on her feet so they forced her to lay down on the stretcher. I heard her talk about the election, but nothing coherent.”

  Jasper counted his blessings. “Knowing Liliane, I’m guessing she wanted to go back to work.”

  Her friend hiccupped a few chuckles. “You’re probably right. If I’m free to leave, I’d like to go home, change, and then head to the office. Someone needs to inform Damien and do Liliane’s work while she’s at the hospital.” Nathalie handed the blanket to Austin. “Would you mind keeping me updated on her condition, please?”

  “Of course I will.” Unlike checking the alibi of the blackmailed yoga participants, Jasper wouldn’t delegate this one task to anyone. “If you already gave your statement to Officer Austin, you’re good to go, Nathalie.”

  “I have it, Detective.” The officer patted the front pocket of his shirt. “Would you like me to give you a ride, Mrs. Jacobs?”

  The offer softened the worry lines on her face. “No, I’m fine, but thank you.”

  Once Nathalie walked out of earshot, Jasper reviewed her statement with Austin, but it didn’t contain anything that hadn’t been mentioned in the last few minutes. “Mrs. Jacobs may not have accepted your offer to take her home, but she appreciated the gesture. Good work, Officer Austin.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Standing by the firetruck closest to the building, the fire chief talked to one of his men. A tall and sturdy guy, taller than Jasper, the chief cultivated a strong and muscular physique at the same gym Jasper patronized. In full gear, he looked twice as impressive.

  Jasper joined them. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

  “Morning, Jasper.” In the palm of his glove, the chief held a small charred component no bigger than a disposable lighter. “I want the perimeter secured before the arrival of the crime scene unit. And Stroddel, make sure no one is picking up any more pieces.”

  “Yes, sir.” The junior firefighter acknowledged Jasper’s presence with a nod of the head then retreated toward the charred vehicle.

  “Is that part of the ignition system?” Mechanics not being his strong suit explained why Jasper didn’t recognize the object and preferred to take his truck to the garage instead of playing under the hood and fixing it himself.

  “Some of my new recruits haven’t learned yet that you’re not supposed to touch anything.” The frown on his grimy face didn’t bode well for whoever gathered that piece. “As for your question, if I were to venture a guess, I’d say it looks like a key component of the explosive device that blew up the car.”

  A bomb? The ramifications extended far beyond the explosion.

  Jasper immediately dispatched a guard to the hospital.

  ~ * ~

  Liliane blacked out, but she didn’t land headfirst on the asphalt, didn’t suffer any concussion, and wasn’t poked in the eyes. These counted as big consolations. Still, every inch of bare skin was scratched, cut, or lacerated. Considering she wore knee-length leggings and a tank top, it accounted for a large surface of her body. Her clothes were beyond salvageable. Once she took them off, they would go straight into the garbage.

  A soft-spoken doctor examined her when she arrived, followed by a nurse who washed and dis
infected every wound, including the ones on her skull. The commanding matron whose acerbic tone contrasted with her gentle touch applied butterfly bandages to the deeper wounds.

  “I’m almost done.” Starting with Liliane’s head, she worked her way down to her legs. “It doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches. You’re lucky. How are you feeling?”

  Liliane couldn’t wait to go home to step under the shower and wash her hair. “I feel like I wrestled a porcupine and lost the fight.”

  The nurse chuckled. “In a few weeks, it’ll all be a distant memory.”

  Somehow the mirror in the bathroom might disagree with that. “If you say so.”

  “I have other patients to tend. If you need anything, buzz me.” Her tray in one hand, the nurse pushed the door open and left her alone in the private examination room of the emergency department.

  I need to go home. And go to work. The doctor had told her he’d come back in a few hours. Three hours had already elapsed. His definition of a few hours didn’t coincide with hers.

  In the meantime, she should call Nathalie and Damien to let them know—

  Phone? Where’s my iPhone?

  She’d stowed her iPhone and her Blackberry in her purse, which she’d shoved at the bottom of her gym bag.

  Gym bag?

  Her heart hammered her ribcage while she scanned the room. If on top of everything she was forced to get a new iPhone, cancel her credit cards, and renew all her IDs, she would burst in tears. At last, she spotted it in a corner, scratched and tattered, like her.

  Mindful of the IV line hooked into the crook of her elbow, she slid out of bed and stood. Neither shaky nor wobbly, her legs supported her weight without her feeling dizzy.

  So far so good.

  She bent down to check the contents of her bag. Unlike her bag, which suffered a deadly beating, her possessions had endured the blast. She dug out her iPhone.