Seniors Sleuth

by Jennifer J. Chow

  Tim shook his head. “I don’t understand why Joe Sawyer hired an investigator. It’s a pretty cut and dry request. He needed to stop harassing my client’s wife.”

  “What? Do you mean your client’s Mike Harrison?”

  “Of course.” Mike, the man who’d argued with Joe on the cell phone. He did make more sense as a killer than his sweet wife.

  “How, may I ask, does an old man bother his ex-wife when she’s his emergency contact?”

  “It’s an issue of finances, Mr. Wong. Jacqueline used Mike’s—excuse me, their—money to pay for unneeded medical supplies for Joe. Joe didn’t have the right to demand that from her.”

  “Does it occur to you that she might have done it out of the goodness of her heart for a fragile old man?”

  “That’s not what Mike told me. He called it extortion. We’re good buddies, so I told him I’d draft a cease and desist order to stop the nonsense.”

  “Well, it stopped—because Joe was murdered.”

  “I hope you’re not suggesting anything, Mr. Wong. Don’t you read the papers? They already have a suspect behind bars.”

  “There’s some new evidence in the case.” He decided to push Tim a little. “I wonder if Mike was the real killer. He was upset enough to ask for legal action after all. And he was overheard arguing with Joe the day the old man died.”

  “Don’t level accusations at my client, Mr. Wong. Mike would never hurt anybody.” Tim took out a brass ruler from his penholder and started tapping it against the rich wood of his desk. “Tell me, when did Joe die?”

  “Last Tuesday.”

  Tim flipped through his calendar. “See, I knew it. We were playing golf then.”

  So Mike and Tim were good golfing buddies. That explained the quick and easy access to legal action on the part of Mike. “What’s the name of the golf course?”

  “The Pacific Golf.”

  Winston waited a beat, but Tim didn’t even crack a smile. Where did people come up with these business names? “I’m going to check his alibi. If it doesn’t pan out, at least I know Mike’s got a lawyer on his side.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Winston heard the whir of the golf carts before he spotted the sign, the blue lettering disguised as waves: The Pacific Golf Course. He walked past the bronze gates and headed toward the all-glass building that looked very much like a greenhouse in the midst of all the rolling lawns. Behind the tinted azure blue panels, though, he could spy upright figures moving about. He entered through the automatic doors, which gave off a muffled whoosh as he stepped into a solid wall of air conditioning. Despite the severe chill, he saw people scurrying about wielding heavy golf bags.

  He approached the front desk where a young freckle-faced blond man greeted him in a bored voice. “May I see your membership card, sir?”

  Winston whipped out his business card and showed it to the youth.

  “I don’t understand, Mr. Wong.”

  “I need to check the company records to see if one of your regular members came here last week.”

  “We don’t give out confidential member information.”

  Winston lowered his voice. “This involves a murder investigation.”

  The young man’s head leaned in closer. Winston guessed he’d never experienced this level of excitement in all his quarter-century of existence. “Maybe I can help you just this once, sir.”

  “Good man.” Winston gave him the date of Joe’s death. “I’m checking to see if a Mike Harrison came in then and how long he stayed if he did.”

  The youth checked the computer system. “Yes, a Mr. Harrison showed up. He stayed from seven in the morning until five in the evening.”

  Winston frowned. It seemed like Mike did have a solid alibi. “Could somebody have impersonated him by using his membership card?”

  “It’s possible, but I don’t think so. They’d have to be really close friends to swap cards.” Tim and Mike were golfing buddies. Surely Mike could have handed Tim his pass while Mike snuck into Sweet Breeze to do his dirty deed.

  “The computer shows that Mr. Harrison used his regular caddy on that day: Sam. He’s probably on the field, but everyone has a cell phone for emergency purposes. Do you want me to call him?”

  “That would be great.”

  Winston listened as the phone rang twice before Sam picked up. “It’s Donnie,” the young man said. “I have a private investigator here wanting information about one of your regulars.” Winston didn’t have the heart to correct Donnie about his proper title, Senior Sleuth. Let the boy raise Winston up in his esteem. “Did you see Mike Harrison come in last Tuesday?”

  Sam’s voice crackled down the line. “When doesn’t that man show up? Yeah, he was here then, and the day before, and the day before that…”

  “And you’re sure it was him, right, Sam?”

  “I’m not likely to be wrong about someone I’ve partnered with for over five years, am I?”

  “Just checking. Thanks a lot, Sam.”

  “Later, Donnie.”

  Then Mike couldn’t have been involved in the crime. He was just airing his jealousy and anger at an old man. You couldn’t prosecute someone for that. On the flip side, though, it seemed like you could harass an old man with legal threats. The crazy justice system.

  “Thanks for your help, Donnie.” Winston handed a five-dollar bill to the young man for his assistance.

  He went back to his car and fumed. Someone had swapped out the poison in Rob’s vial. But who and why? Winston headed to jail to find some answers.

  CHAPTER 29

  Rob seemed defeated, hunched into a ball behind the glass panel. He wasn’t the same man who’d tried to attack Winston while being hauled off for questioning by the police. He had lost his spirit in the drab gray surroundings of jail.

  Winston tapped the window and mimed picking up the phone. He’d just wasted hours of his day waiting in the jail lobby. And he’d been lucky—he should’ve registered ahead for a visit because of the mandatory paperwork. The staff had whizzed through the forms, though, and he’d been granted access after three hours.

  Rob picked up his receiver piece.

  “We need to talk,” Winston said. “Something doesn’t add up.”

  “I don’t belong here. Jail’s not for me. I used my one phone call to ask my parents for help, but they were so ashamed of me that they didn’t post bail.”

  “You’re lucky you’re not Asian. My parents probably would have hung up on me and then disowned me. Maybe they would have even testified against me.” What an extreme loss of face to have a criminal for a son. It’s a good thing Winston had never gotten tangled up with the law. He’d only disappointed his folks with his odd computer hobby—even dropping out of college to pursue game testing—and his lack of girlfriends.

  When Rob didn’t crack a smile at his Asian joke, Winston said, “You know, I did find out something interesting today. They didn’t find suicide tree in your vial.” He wasn’t sure if he could divulge this information, but he wanted to get Rob on his side, and quick.

  Rob’s eyes lit up. “Really? Great. Now you know I’m innocent.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite. Tell me your side of the story.”

  “It was Zuras—”

  “Your fellow gamer? The one I found in the private chat area?”

  “Yeah, he suggested it. I was griping about my work. Venting. Then he talked about this toxin and joked about how easy it would be to get.”

  “It sounds like this guy just gave you a place to start. Malicious thinking is protected by freedom of speech.”

  “No, you don’t understand, Winston. You need to detective the guy and hunt him down.”

  “Unfortunately, you were the one who had the labeled vial in your personal cooler, Rob. You must have ordered it. You’ve got to give me something to work with.”

  “I didn’t buy the poison.”

  Winston sighed. “Don’t play hardball with me.” Rob wouldn’t admit any guilt, though,
so Winston decided to indulge a little more in Rob’s fantasyland.

  “How about you walk me step by step through the day of Joe’s death?”

  Rob took a deep breath. “That morning started off funny. When I went to my office, it didn’t smell right.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. The air seemed disturbed. Anyway, I shrugged it off and went to Anastasia’s birthday shindig. When I saw Joe drinking his coffee, I remembered my chat with Zuras, about the poison and all. I imagined Joe convulsing on the floor, and I realized that I could never poison another human.” Rob shivered. “I excused myself early and went back upstairs. Later in the afternoon, Kristy came up to get some medical supplies. While there, she noticed something odd.”

  “Which was?”

  “The door to the medication cabinet was unlocked. She asked me if I’d checked on the medicine. I told her I never touch her stuff. She laughed at herself, dismissing it as her own forgetfulness from when the medical supply company had last delivered a shipment. Then she left to attend to her duties.”

  “Did you believe Kristy had made a mistake?”

  “Not really. Kristy always locks the medication cabinet after she’s done with it. So I looked for my extra key in my drawer—and it felt warm to the touch.”

  Winston curled his fingers against the phone. “What did you do then?”

  “I knew someone had tampered with the bags. Somehow I got the idea that Zuras had contaminated the dialysis solution. Call me paranoid, but I snatched up my Swiss Army knife. I didn’t want to alarm any of the residents, so I snuck into Joe’s room through a secret passage.”

  “Via the garden, entering through his outside alcove.”

  “You know about that?” Rob frowned. “I only discovered it since I smoke in that corner all the time.”

  Winston waved him on to continue talking.

  “Kristy had already finished giving him the medicine. About fifteen minutes had passed since the dialysis treatment. I figured that wouldn’t be enough time to get the poison pumping into his system. So I went in and cut the bags up with my trusty knife and waltzed out through the back.” That explained the larger set of marks found on the dialysis bags when Winston had done his fingerprinting; they belonged to Rob. He assumed the smaller ones corresponded to Kristy’s fingers. “After all, I didn’t want to be caught wielding a knife in a resident’s room,” Rob said, “and I didn’t want to be the murderer’s next target either.”

  “Did Joe talk to you at all during that time?”

  “No, he was out like a light.” That was odd. Anastasia had mentioned Joe speaking to someone. Oh, it’s you, he’d said. But if he’d seen Rob in his room, wouldn’t he have been surprised by a rare visit from the administrator?

  Winston’s fingers cramped from his tight hold on the phone. He switched hands. “Did you notice Joe coughing at all?”

  “Nope, he was sleeping like a baby.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Why? Did someone say otherwise?” A smile spread across Rob’s face. “Is his sleeping soundly a hint that I’m not to blame? See, I didn’t kill him.” Rob puffed out his chest. “In fact, I’m a hero. I tried to rescue him.”

  Rob was right about the timing. According to Anastasia, Joe started his coughing spasm around two and keeled over soon after. Somebody else had been in the room after Rob, causing Joe’s death.

  CHAPTER 30

  Winston called Kristy and asked if he could visit her. She invited him to her new place of employment at Life Circles. She explained that she did double duty at the two complexes on site, one for independent folks and the other for the elderly with severe limitations. She didn’t mind the long hours, even on the weekends. She was glad anybody had hired her at all in light of the Sweet Breeze debacle.

  He pulled into the asphalt parking lot that divided the two units and was immediately depressed by the view. One scraggly tree, bent far over in its concrete container, almost touched the faded blacktop.

  The buildings on the left echoed the dismal parking scene. Their faded stucco exterior, bleached white from sun and wind, peeled in places. Closed windows dotted the walls, shuttered by thick steel bars.

  The cluster of housing units on the right side, though, seemed a sharp contrast to the parking lot. Rows of gleaming townhouses glittered in the sunlight; each displayed a side lawn sprouting lush grass and bright flowers. Winston hoped to find Kristy in the second set of houses.

  He headed toward the townhouse nearest him. Like the other cookie cutter models, it smelled of fresh paint. Brickwork decorated the lower wall, attempting to add an old school feel to the new building. The only difference between the office and the other units was the official-looking sign above the oak front door.

  Winston walked into Life Circles’ headquarters. A slender ponytailed girl, not more than twenty-two, greeted him. He wondered how the residents felt seeing her. Did they mind her youthfulness in their faces? Or did they pretend that she reflected them? Maybe if they were surrounded by young things, they would remain more active, too.

  “Hi there,” Winston said. “I’m looking for Kristy Blake.”

  “Can I tell her who’s asking?”

  “Um, a friend.” Did one date count as boyfriend material? He’d been so long out of the game, he wasn’t sure of the rules anymore.

  “Another one? Popular girl.”

  “What do you mean?” Winston asked.

  The girl shrugged her shoulders. “When she first came to interview here, that cute cop was with her.”

  “Cop?”

  “Yeah, Mark Gaffey. Blond-haired, blue-eyed hunk?” The girl blushed and looked down at her short, bitten fingernails.

  Winston tapped her on the shoulder, more of a sharp nudge than a gentle reminder. “So where can I find Kristy?”

  She gestured with her thumb. “I think she’s in the back room.”

  He went over there and found Kristy’s head bent over a file folder. She twirled a pen across her fingers, deep in thought, and scribbled some more.

  “Knock, knock. I can’t believe you’re working this late,” he said. “Or maybe you’re waiting for someone.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “Yeah, you. I usually work these hours to catch up on my paperwork.” She added the folder to a pile before her. “Out of twelve patients, I’ve only updated two charts. You’re here about what Officer Gaffey said, right?”

  “Speaking of Mark Gaffey, has he been visiting you lately?”

  “No. Why would he?”

  “The girl out front said she saw you two together when you showed up to interview.”

  “Oh, yes. Mark’s great-aunt lives on the independent side. He told me Life Circles had an open position for a nurse and was kind enough to drop me off when he went to visit his great-aunt.”

  “Oh, it’s Mark now, is it?” Winston could feel his lips tighten into a thin, flat line. “How very convenient that he found you a job.”

  She clucked her tongue at him. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy?”

  He put his hands up in the air. “All I’m saying is the guy happens to visit the hair salon at the same time every month when you take the Sweet Breeze residents to get haircuts.” He still remembered Anastasia’s comment about the “hunky” policeman. “Then he sets up a job for you where he can watch your every move.”

  “He’s a cop, Winston, not a stalker. What’s really bugging you?”

  Winston looked down at his feet and shuffled them. “Honestly? I like seeing you exclusively, Kristy. It’s not all about the case for me, you know.”

  She nudged him with her pen until he focused on her. “There’s nothing between Officer Gaffey and me,” Kristy said. “And I’m sorry about lashing out at you before. It was really stressful arranging all the transfers and finding a job to boot.”

  “Then we can still see each other?”

  “Yes, let’s try again.”

  Heartened by her answer, Winston decided to
do some boasting. “Now that you mentioned the case, though, I followed up on the vial discrepancy you mentioned and uncovered some new info.”

  “How?”

  “I visited Rob in jail,” Winston said.

  The sound of the administrator’s name made Kristy stiffen her shoulders. “How do you work with a man for two years and not know him at all?”

  “If it makes you feel better, he’s taking his new surroundings pretty hard. Plus, he’s pinning the blame on his co-gamer, alias Zuras.”

  “He’s transferring the crime onto someone he’s never met before?” Kristy’s pen flew out of her hand and into Winston’s face.

  He blocked it before it stabbed him in the eye and handed it back to her. “Rob said that Zuras was the one talking about poisoning Joe.”

  “Rob was still the one who did the deed, though.”

  “I don’t know.” Winston frowned. “According to Anastasia, Joe’s coughing fits didn’t start until shortly after two, a good amount of time after you’d started the dialysis.”

  “What if the suicide tree just didn’t kick in until later?”

  “That’s a possibility, but if he’d stuck the poison in the bags, then why did he cut them up after the treatment began?”

  Kristy’s eyes grew wide. “He told you that?”

  “Yeah, and I remember Anastasia mentioned hearing Joe talk before his vomiting fit. She thought he’d been sleep-talking, but now I’m not so sure. If he had a visitor, it wasn’t Rob, who had already left by that time.”

  “Rob could have lied about the time he went into the room.”

  “I know, but Anastasia told me Joe said, ‘Oh, it’s you.’ That means it’s somebody he was familiar with—probably not Rob, since he spent most of his days upstairs in the office.”

  Kristy’s brow furrowed. “Who do you think he spoke with?”

  “I have no idea, but while I was driving today, I saw that the old Sweet Breeze house got sold. Do you think it’s connected?”