Voted Out

by J. S. Marlo

  Every member of Liliane’s team worked his or her tail off until 9:00 p.m. every night of the week. The same couldn’t obviously be said about Headquarters. Couldn’t a quality control team have remained on standby at least until Headquarters closed its doors at 4 p.m. local time instead of everyone clocking out early? It couldn’t be too much to ask, could it? Unfortunately, the bright answer glowed on Nathalie’s screen.

  I swear Headquarters couldn’t make my life harder if they tried.

  ~ * ~

  In the summer, Officer Morse liked being on foot patrol or canvassing duty. It gave him the opportunity to exercise, enjoy some fresh air, meet new people, and the chance to build that essential relationship between the community and the police force, one resident at a time. After twenty-eight years, he still loved his job and didn’t contemplate retiring any time soon.

  Nobody on the Minks’ street had noticed an unusual car roaming around. As he ventured down the next street, he noticed the park on his left and the row of parking spaces available for users. A lone woman sitting on a bench appeared to watch two children busy running around the playground.

  He approached her. “Good afternoon, ma’am. Beautiful day to play outside, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Gorgeous, and not too hot.” A smile touched her lips as she stared at him with unconcealed curiosity. “Is something wrong, officer? Are my children too loud?”

  “No, ma’am. From what I hear, they’re just having fun. That’s what kids should be doing.” He sat beside her. “I’m just wondering if you noticed a strange vehicle parked in the neighborhood in the last few weeks.”

  The woman straightened her back and balled her fists. “Is someone lurking in the neighborhood targeting children? I should have known that vehicle didn’t belong here.”

  Enthused anticipation built inside Morse’s chest. “What vehicle, ma’am?”

  She pointed at the parking stalls along the edge of the park. “The black SUV parked there around lunchtime.”

  The color dampened his optimism. “Are you sure it wasn’t gray?”

  “I own a gray minivan, Officer.” A warm breeze played in her wavy brown hair. “The SUV was muddy, but underneath it was black. I’m sure of it.”

  Muffling his disappointed, Morse pulled out his notebook to log in every detail. “Do you recall which day it was?”

  “This past Thursday, but come to think of it, it wasn’t the first time I noticed it, except...” Her gaze traveled toward the swing set where the older girl pushed the younger boy on the swing. “Maybe I’m making a big deal out of nothing. After all, a car seat occupied the back seat, so there had to be a child somewhere, right?”

  Not only had the victim died that same day, but the presence of the SUV also raised that woman’s suspicion, so Morse wanted to know what triggered it. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of it and just tell me what made you uncomfortable regarding that SUV?”

  “Like I said, I think I’ve seen it before, but there were always plenty of kids and parents in the park, so I figured it belonged to one of them, right?” She clasped and unclasped her hands together, the nervous gesture not escaping him. “Anyway, one day last week, I saw it park there, except there was no one anywhere near the playground. I wondered why someone would leave a SUV there when there are plenty of parking spaces on the street closer to the houses.”

  Morse cast an eye around. Wedged between the neatly trimmed grass of the park and the woods surrounding the town, the parking spaces reserved for the users were located on the opposite side from the neighborhood. Though he didn’t mind a nice promenade across or around a playground, Morse agreed with the woman. He would search for a closer place to park if he visited a resident of this neighborhood. “Do you recall the make or model of that SUV, or the license plate number, by any chance?”

  “No, sorry, but I strolled by it on my way home.” Her son waved at her from the swing, and she waved back with a smile. “It had a novelty Batman car seat in the backseat. Actually, it’s my daughter who spotted it and I had to lift my son so he could see it too. Now he’d like one, but I can’t afford it. It’s too expensive.”

  A few months back, his wife had gone shopping for a car seat to put in their vehicle for when they drove their granddaughter to her gymnastic classes. To Morse’s surprise, his wife returned with a Cinderella car seat, so he knew exactly to which novelty car seat the woman alluded.

  After he noted her name and contact information, he walked away and called Detective O’Neil.

  ~ * ~

  Liliane didn’t expect a visit from Greg. When the manager walked into her office and closed the door behind him, she braced herself for another problem.

  Less than fifteen minutes ago, Damien convinced Headquarters to spare someone to review and accept the ballot proof. She had eavesdropped on the exchange and it saddened her that Damien had to threaten to send the ballots into production without authorization before they agreed to proceed today instead of waiting until tomorrow. There should be a daily quota on the number of problems she was allowed to tackle, and she should get bonus points for every one she solved.

  With a gesture of one hand, she invited him to sit. “What can I do for you, Greg?”

  Stopped dead in front of her desk, he stared at her in shock. “What happened to your face? Did someone attack you with a barbecue brush? Are you alright?”

  Despite the dreadful circumstances, chuckles tickled her throat. “My car exploded, but I’ll be fine.”

  He slumped in the chair next to her filing cabinet. “I heard about a car explosion on the radio, but I didn’t realize it belonged to you. I’m glad you didn’t suffer more serious injuries...not that these aren’t serious but...you know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I do. Thank you.” Liliane appreciated his concerns. “So? Why are you here?”

  “I need advice. Good advice.” The man looked her in the eye. “Can we speak off the record?”

  The peculiar request roused her curiosity. Her hands clasped together over her desk, she nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “As you know I didn’t cash in that unlawful check from Thomas Finch.” The clear and precise wording of the election act regarding contributions left no room for interpretation. Greg acted according to the law.

  “I do realize that.” Failing to understand his sudden qualms, she sought to reassure him. “And there won’t be any disciplinary actions taken against you, or your party, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

  “No, I know, and my candidate never knew about that check, so he’s protected either way. I...I need your advice about a different check.” His shoulders rose and fell with every sharp breath he inhaled and exhaled. “I think we both know Thomas favored my party despite his obligation to remain impartial.”

  In private, Thomas’s reputation of unwavering loyalty toward that party preceded him.

  As far as Liliane was concerned, Thomas and Greg’s candidate deserved each other. “Off the record, I’d describe his loyalty to your party as one of the worst kept secrets in town.”

  “Okay...” He shifted in his chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Then it shouldn’t shock you to learn Thomas circumvented the contribution rule by sending a check in his wife’s name.”

  No surprise there. She suspected that much. “Technically his wife isn’t subjected to that rule, still in my opinion, it falls within the gray area of moral behavior. In any case, it’s not illegal for her to go into your office and give you a check. If Thomas handed you money in his spouse’s or sons’ name, that would raise serious ethical concerns, but it tends not to apply to dead people anyway.”

  The worry lines creasing his forehead subsided. “I kept his wife’s uncashed check in my desk but somehow my candidate became aware of its existence. Now he insists I deposit it in the account. Before Stuart accuses me of wrongdoing again, I thought I’d check with you.”

  The play-on-words amused her. “Nothing prevents you from cashing it, but out of
curiosity, was the contribution made before or after Thomas’ death? And who dropped it off?”

  “Janet came in person to see me a few days after the election was called. She didn’t conceal the fact that her husband insisted she contributed the maximum amount authorized by the law. I found her comments unwise, so I ignored them.” He stood. “Anyway, thank you for your advice.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Since that conversation occurred off the record, she deemed it best to forget all about it.

  ~ * ~

  The report from the lab regarding the gray paint on the handle of the leash arrived on the heels of Jasper’s interesting phone call with Officer Morse. No mysterious gray cars reported in Sophie’s neighbor, but a black SUV with a Batman car seat raised suspicion.

  A Batman car seat? By the time Jasper gained custody of Dillon, his son had outgrown his car seat. He never shopped for that particular item, but if a Batman car seat kept a child quiet during a long ride, Jasper understood why some parents selected it over more boring models.

  On the other hand, the lab report produced interesting results. The tech determined the paint transferred on the handle came from a Honda Accord manufactured between 2013 and 2017. To help him visualize the color, the tech had attached a sample of it to the report. Liliane had labelled it ash gray, but Honda listed the color as lunar silver metallic. To the naked eye, it looked gray, but then Jasper didn’t claim to belong in the artistic world of painters or car designers.

  Four car dealerships, three North American and a Japanese, serviced the town. Most residents shopped locally to avoid having to drive five or six hours every time their vehicles required repairs while under warranty. As a result, in the absence of a nearby Honda dealership, few Accords roamed the streets.

  Jasper logged into the Department of Motor Vehicles and searched by make, model, and year, but without taking the color into consideration. The owners of twenty-three cars matching his criteria lived within one hundred kilometers of town. He printed the list, then as he checked the color listed beside each vehicle, he crossed off the ones that didn’t sound like any shade of gray. At the end, eight vehicles remained. One silver, one silver metallic, one gray, two light grays, one cloudy gray, one charcoal, and one graphite. Though he suspected these last three were too dark, Jasper didn’t rule them out yet.

  Stretching his neck above his computer screen, he looked through his open door. His two rookies looked bored at their desks.

  “Hey Welsh, Gambone. Get in here. We have cars to check out.”

  ~ * ~

  Folks didn’t appreciate being disturbed around suppertime, and Jasper couldn’t blame them, but it remained the most convenient time of the day to catch them at home after work with their vehicles in the driveway, garage, or wherever else they parked them for the night.

  Jasper had assigned three Accords to each rookie, and kept the silver and silver metallic for himself.

  The silver metallic Accord belonged to an elderly gentleman who washed it and waxed it every Saturday, and kept it in his garage. Shinier than a showroom model, the car didn’t sport a single scratch on its silver paint.

  “I only drive it to church on Sunday and to the grocery store on Tuesday, and I always park at the farthest end of the parking lot.” Nothing suggested the elderly man whose hair matched the color of his car lied on any accounts.

  “Thank you for your time, sir.” Without harboring any doubts, Jasper crossed the car off his list before driving to the other end of town.

  The plain silver Accord was registered to a teenage girl who received it as a birthday gift from her grandpa. When Jasper examined it, he noticed something bigger than a scratch. Something much bigger.

  He turned his attention to the girl rubbing her hands together. “What happened?”

  “Well, I was backing into the garage...” Her gaze settled on a snowmobile parked near the side door. Its hood was crushed and its windshield shattered. “You know that little warning sign on the side mirror that says Objects are closer than they appear? Well...they are.”

  Maybe grandpa should have paid for driving lessons instead. “When did you collide with the snowmobile?”

  “Two weeks ago.” A sigh deflated her bony frame. “I’ve been grounded ever since.”

  Had that silver car been the one parked near Liliane’s house, the dog walker would have noticed the substantial damage—and he wouldn’t have worried about adding a scratch to it.

  As he walked to his cruiser, his phone rang. “Detective O’Neil speaking.”

  “Sir, it’s Gambone.” Static sizzled on the line, making it hard to understand the officer. “I’m at the Barkley farmhouse. No match with the graphite and charcoal cars, but you’ve got to come and see that cloudy gray Accord.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  ~We’ve been friends for so long, I can’t remember which one of us is the bad influence.~

  After vocalizing which pasta creation she craved for supper, Liliane placed twenty dollars on her desk.

  “You can pay me when I get back with the food.” Her gaze locked on the menu scrunched up on the tiny screen of her cell phone, Nathalie paced her office. “I still don’t know what I want. Remind me why we can’t just go and sit in the restaurant for an hour and escape this place? You do know Damien is playing cards with Leonard in his office, right? Why can’t he also babysit the rest of the office while we’re out?”

  Because Jasper thinks someone is trying to kill me and he forbade me to leave the election office unless I’m under police protection.

  She’d convinced Jasper she didn’t need one of his officers shadowing her every move after arguing the presence of an officer would raise the kind of questions he wanted to avoid until he could prove her car hadn’t exploded on its own. Besides, the strong imposing security guard that became a permanent fixture in the lobby sufficed to deter anyone from committing any crime, but the fear Jasper’s theory instilled in her heart prompted her to be careful.

  “Because Damien is winning his current game?” For the umpteenth time today, Liliane considered telling Nathalie the truth. She trusted her friend to remain discreet, but Nathalie already worried about every member of her family, from her grandsons to her frail elderly neighbor living alone next door to her. How fair would it be to add herself to that list and have her friend fret about her safety? On the other hand, keeping that secret had become increasingly harder as the day progressed. “Nathalie, if I promise to tell you the truth while we eat here, would you leave now to get food? Please?”

  A frown appeared on her friend’s forehead, which Nathalie slapped flat with the palm of her hand. “Stupid me. I’m sorry, Lily. It should have occurred to me you might feel uncomfortable sitting in public with people staring at your injuries. I’ll be back in twenty, twenty-five minutes.”

  Stunned by Nathalie’s speculation and hasty departure, Liliane leaned back in her chair. Chuckles bubbled in her belly, tickling her insides and making it bearable to guard her secret for a few more hours.

  With her stomach grumbling out of tune with the song playing on her iPhone, Liliane finalized the logistics of delivering her ballots to her remote areas.

  Her door flew open and Amanda barged into her office. “I have a training session starting shortly, so I only have a few minutes. I wanted you to know I filled all the positions for Advance Polls, and I’m missing maybe two dozen for Election Day.”

  “That’s impressive.” Hiring over four hundred people in a few weeks was no small feat. Liliane didn’t doubt the woman in front of her would also train them in time. “Great work, Amanda.”

  “Hey, go tell that to my son.” She beamed with pride. “He’s more amazing at recruiting than I am. I swear he would manage to get paid to install an air conditioning unit in an igloo. He recruited the entire finance department to work on Election Day.”

  The news unsettled Liliane. “What finance department?”

  “You didn’t hear?�
� The daggers shooting out of Amanda’s eyes were aimed to kill, not maim. “Janet the viper fired everyone working in the finance department of her company. No severance package. Nothing. If you want my opinion, she’s either ready to sell it or dismantle it. Either way, she ruined the lives of another dozen families.”

  Liliane’s thoughts traveled to Nathalie’s former student as guilt and shock twisted her guts. “When did that happen?”

  “Late this afternoon.” The replacement training officer pointed at the doorway beyond her. “I can hear the next batch of workers arriving. Need to go.”

  ~ * ~

  Jasper circled the cloudy gray Honda Accord then looked at the shattered garage window toothed with spiky shards of glass.

  Nobody answered the door at the Barkley farmhouse, but a visitor of the unwelcome kind had broken into the garage and vandalized the car. Its color matched the sample provided by the lab.

  Cloudy Gray? Jasper would like to know who renamed it cloudy gray in the DMV records. “Let me get this straight. When you got here, the window was smashed and the side door of the garage was wide open?”

  “Yes, sir. First I checked the house, but nobody was home, so I figured I might as well look around the property.” The rookie stood near a workbench scattered with hand tools. “I noticed the damaged window, so I peeked inside. That’s when I noticed the color of the car along with the broken glass on the garage floor.” Embedded with tiny shards of glass, the lower edge of the window reached chest high. With the broad daylight filtering inside the garage through the broken window, Gambone would have enjoyed a clear view of the interior from the outside. “Then I came upon the open door on the other side. From the doorway, I saw a scratch matching the description given by the dog walker. That’s when I stepped into the garage and got the bigger picture.” With a sweep of her hand, she encompassed the entire vehicle. “The car is scratched from bumper to bumper on both sides.”