A Body to Spare

by Sue Ann Jaffarian

  “Although,” I added, having another thought, “Elaine does have a strange yet strong sense of right and wrong. Maybe she received a hit order to get rid of Zach, but knowing he was a missing kid from way back when, she decided to make sure his body was found so that his family could have closure.”

  “That would work,” Greg agreed after taking another drink of tea. “I wish she’d call you and clear this mess up.”

  I laughed. “I never thought I’d see the day when you wanted Elaine Powers to call me.”

  He chuckled. “Me neither, sweetheart. Did your research today uncover anything else of note?”

  I quickly summarized some of the things I had learned from the Marigold report. “When we have time, I need to show you this search engine,” I told him. “It’s scary good. I’m running a report on John Swayze right now. I want to know as much as I can about him.”

  “Sounds like Emma Whitecastle is scary good too.” He glanced out the glass slider to the patio to make sure everything was okay and we didn’t have any more unwanted visitors spying on us. The back was empty, and it had started to rain again. Greg had pushed the broken screen slider back out of the way as far as possible. “I’m game if you want to visit Zach’s sister tomorrow morning. After, we can run by Home Depot and look into replacing the patio screen door.”

  “It’s a date,” I said. “We can leave early and grab breakfast somewhere.”

  Greg turned his attention back to me. “What about Grace and Clark? Are you going to tell them tonight part or all of what you learned?”

  “Maybe just the part about Emma’s visit,” I told Greg. “Especially since Mom was the one who initiated that. For totally different reasons, I don’t want either of them knowing we’re snooping around on other fronts.” I quickly reconsidered that. “I might tell Clark some things, especially about Swayze’s visit, but I don’t want Mom in on any of that information, especially the stuff about these crazy search engines. Can you imagine if she got her hands on Marigold?”

  Greg gave an exaggerated shudder that shook his whole upper body. “I’d love to stay home with you the rest of the day,” he said as he slipped his jacket back on, “but I can still get in a few more hours at the office.” He held up Swayze’s phone. “Besides, I want to take this into the shop. I think one of the guys might be able to break the password.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I told him. “I’ll be okay.”

  He planted a kiss on me. “Keep that bat close, you hear? I don’t think Swayze will be back, but just in case, I’m leaving Wainwright with you. He seemed to be terrified of dogs. And if you hear from Elaine or think of anything you want me to pick up from the store on the way home, just call or text me.” He sniffed the air with appreciation. “That stew smells great already.”

  He gave me another kiss before going. “Whether it was real or not, I’m happy that you had some closure with Horten today on some level.”

  My mother stared down at the autographed photo of Emma Whitecastle, her face contorting with mixed emotions. “I didn’t expect her to act so quickly,” Mom said, her voice thinly edged with anger like the fine lace on one of her hankies. “Usually I write these celebrities and never hear a word back.”

  My brother looked at her with knitted brows. “Do you write many famous people, Mom?”

  “Sometimes,” she answered. “I’ve even written the president.”

  “You’ve written to President Obama?” Greg asked, taking his turn with the questions.

  “Not just him,” Mom snapped, “all of them fools—every single one since Kennedy. I’m a voting citizen. It’s my right to let them know how I feel about things, isn’t it?”

  My brother tilted his head upward and stared at our ceiling. “I just know Mom’s name and photo are hanging on a wall somewhere at the FBI.”

  “Nah,” Greg said with a grin. “If it was, I think it might have come up during questioning by Shipman the other day.”

  “It’s probably on some terrorist list,” I suggested as I got up. “Dinner is ready. Come sit down.”

  As soon as Clark had arrived with Mom, I told them about Emma Whitecastle’s visit. I told them everything, including the thing with Dad. Mom had listened enraptured, as if she had a front-row seat to a séance. Clark listened too, but I could see the physical outline of his tongue probing the inside of his cheek as I talked. He was trying to keep an open mind, tough as it was. As a longtime former cop, he didn’t dismiss anything but tried to look at each tidbit of information or lead from as many angles as possible—even if it was whacked out.

  “So this two birds concept,” Clark began after starting on his stew. “Maybe the killer is going to kill two people.”

  “And dump them both here?” Greg asked with concern, his spoon stopped midair. “That’s a daunting thought.”

  “Maybe Odelia is the second bird,” Mom said. After dropping that bomb, she looked down at her lap and adjusted her napkin as pretty as you please while we all stared at her.

  Greg put down his spoon and covered my free hand with his. He looked straight into my eyes. “That thought occurred to me too. In fact, it’s scaring the crap out of me.” I squeezed his hand. I hated to see him so worried, even though I was also worried.

  “I don’t know,” said Clark. “I think if the killer was going after Odelia, she’d be dead already. He’s had plenty of opportunities. Take today, for instance. Most of the day she was here alone.”

  Greg snapped his eyes in Clark’s direction. “Is that supposed to be comforting?” Then he looked at me. We hadn’t told them about John Swayze; we were saving that for Clark’s ears alone. They had come through the front door and hadn’t noticed the broken patio screen yet.

  Greg and I had briefly discussed whether or not John Swayze was the murderer or had come to the house to hurt me physically. We came to the conclusion that he was exactly who he said he was: a guy trying to impress a girl and looking for a better job. When the report on him came in from Marigold, I sent it to Greg at his office. It showed nothing to put us on alert otherwise. He was just a boring guy from Idaho with limited potential who’d been raised by his aunt and uncle, Mary and Edward Young.

  Clark didn’t back down on his theory that I was safe for now. “Yes, Greg, it is. I think Odelia is being used in some way here, but I don’t think she’s necessarily in danger, unless it’s the danger of being charged with Zach’s death.” He stirred the stew in his bowl around, then added, “I think it’s someone who is well acquainted with Odelia’s history of solving crimes. It could be a criminal from her past throwing down a challenge to her—playing with her.”

  “Like that hitwoman,” suggested Mom. “Everyone thinks it’s her.”

  “But I don’t,” I said with conviction.

  “Neither do I,” added Greg. “She struck me as genuinely liking Odelia. I don’t think she would do that unless she was reaching out for Odelia’s help, but she didn’t seem the type who would ask for help.”

  Greg’s words did not go over the heads of Clark or my mother. Both of them stopped eating and stared at him. “Wait a minute,” Clark said. He pointed his spoon across the table in Greg’s direction. “You’ve met Elaine Powers?”

  Oops. Elaine had met Greg only once, but it was something neither of us had mentioned to anyone. We knew if we did, the police would be all over him like they are on me when anything about her came to the surface.

  “Yes,” Greg answered truthfully after realizing his mistake. “She paid me a visit when I was in the hospital after I was shot. It was the only time I’ve ever laid eyes on her.”

  “She wanted to make sure he was okay,” I added. “She even brought flowers.”

  “A contract killer brought you flowers?” Mom said, her eyes glowing with excitement behind her glasses. “Wow, I’m impressed. I wish I’d been there. Contract killers…famous mediums…how come none of this happens when I’m around?”

  Clark, Greg, and I exchanged looks. “Maybe, Mom,�
� Clark ventured, “because people are worried it would end up on that blog of yours.”

  “Speaking of which, Grace,” added Greg, looking at Mom with steely narrow eyes, “you do not mention what I just said to anyone. Not on your blog. Not to your hairdresser. Not even to my parents. You got that?”

  Mom looked to me for support and found none. “He’s right, Mom. You can’t breathe a word of it to anyone.”

  “Wait a minute,” Mom said, narrowing her eyes back at Greg. “If that Elaine woman knew you’d been shot, does that mean she was involved in that murder with the rugby player?”

  Clark looked surprised. “Hell, even I hadn’t made that quick leap.”

  “She had nothing to do with that,” I assured them both, slightly fibbing. “But she’d heard about Greg and was concerned, so she slipped into the hospital to make sure he was okay. That’s all it was. She was there something like thirty seconds.”

  I looked at my husband and he nodded with confirmation. “Trust me,” Greg said, “Elaine Powers and Odelia are not book club buddies, and they don’t exchange recipes. There’s just this odd and haphazard connection.” He turned to look directly at Clark. “Every now and then Odelia connects with the oddest people. Isn’t that right, Clark?”

  Everyone at the table except for Mom knew Greg was referring to Willie Proctor. “Yeah,” Clark agreed with some reluctance. “She does have an unusual way with some folks. Damndest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “So if it’s not her,” Mom said, getting back to business, “who would want to send Odelia a message or look for her help like this?” She looked at me. “In the past when people wanted your help, didn’t they just come to you for it?”

  I chewed the stew in my mouth and nodded. “Pretty much,” I said after swallowing. “This really has everyone stumped.”

  “Have the police come around anymore?” asked Clark.

  I shook my head. “Nope. After they questioned me and checked out the house and carport, they went silent. I haven’t heard a thing more.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that one bit,” said Mom with a shake of her head. “On TV that’s usually the quiet before the storm. Just when you think it’s all going away, bam! The cops come in and arrest you for murder.”

  I looked at my aged mother like she’d just announced she was from Mars. My father’s spirit had said Mom would be a great comfort to me. I was now sure death had addled his brain or he was talking about some other mother. “You’re such a little ray of sunshine, Mom. Keep up the positive thinking.”

  Mom and Clark left shortly after dinner. Mom was tuckered out from her trip, and Clark wanted to get her home. Before they left, Clark sidled up to me and whispered, “Don’t go to bed yet. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  fifteen

  Mom lived about three miles from us, so it was no surprise when Clark was back in our kitchen twenty minutes later.

  “You got some coffee, sis?” he asked after making himself comfortable again at the kitchen table with Greg.

  I had just finished cleaning up the kitchen from dinner. “You drink entirely too much coffee,” I told him.

  “I asked for coffee, not medical advice,” he said. His comments came with a grin to let me know he wasn’t really annoyed.

  Knowing he was returning, I had expected the request for coffee and had started a cup for him as soon as he came through the front door. “Okay, but you’re getting decaf.” I placed the mug of coffee in front of him. “What did you tell Mom when you left her just now?” I asked.

  “I told her I was meeting Dev for coffee,” he said after taking a sip of the hot brew. “She almost wanted to come along to say goodbye to him since she missed his party last night, but I convinced her that we’d probably be seeing him again before he left town. Since she was bone-tired from her trip, she didn’t argue.”

  Greg was nursing a beer. I settled down at the table with a glass of wine.

  “So,” Clark began, “what’s really going on with this Zach situation? And don’t tell me ‘nothing.’” His eyes darted between me and Greg like a ping-pong ball in play. “I know you two too well for that nonsense.”

  While cleaning up from dinner, Greg and I had decided to come clean with Clark after all. I told him about Marigold and what I’d learned about Zach’s sister. “I didn’t want to say any of this in front of Mom,” I said after finishing.

  “Good call,” Clark said. “Expensive or not, she’d be all over that Marigold site. Just because you can learn things about people doesn’t mean you should.”

  “It’s not that easy to find,” I assured him. “You really have to have someone else point you to it.”

  “Have you ever heard of it?” Greg asked Clark.

  He nodded and smiled. “Yes, I have. Willie’s people use it all the time. That’s who introduced me to it. I don’t know who developed it or runs it, but it gathers information from all public sites, not just a few, and from a few not-so-public sites. Your friend Barbara had to have known someone who also used it; by referral is the only way to find it. Now that you have a way in, respect your friend’s trust and don’t tell anyone.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said in agreement. “So it also hacks information from non-public sites?”

  “Some,” he confirmed. “But you have to be a special customer to get access to that area. Between Marigold and his personal contacts, that’s how Willie always knows so much about people.”

  Greg chuckled. “I’m guessing Willie is one of Marigold’s special clients.”

  In response, Clark just smiled and took another drink of his coffee. “I’m betting Elaine Powers uses it or something like it herself,” he said. “In her business, you have to know everything about your targets to be effective.”

  “We’re going to see Jean Utley tomorrow,” I said. “And I don’t want you to stop us.”

  Clark surprised me by saying, “I think that’s a good idea. Do you know yet if the police have notified her or her family about Zach?”

  “Not a clue,” I said, “and I’m sure they wouldn’t tell us if they did.”

  “Do you think Dev could find that out for us?” asked Greg.

  “I’d rather not get him involved,” Clark said. “He has just a few days left on the job and a lot on his plate with the move and all.”

  “I agree,” I said. “Let’s not bother Dev.”

  “No,” Clark confirmed. “I’ll handle the cops. I might be able to find something out. Cops talk to cops, even ex-ones.”

  “You can always romance it out of Andrea,” I quipped.

  “What?” asked Greg just as he was about to take a swig of beer.

  I turned to Greg. “It seems that Clark has the hots for Andrea Fehring.”

  “Oh, come on now,” Clark said with disgust. “I don’t have the hots for her, I just thought she might make a nice dinner companion when I visit.”

  “She is pretty nice,” Greg said between man-giggles. “At least she is when she’s not trying to put Odelia behind bars. But don’t you think getting close to Andrea might be a little touchy considering your boss? Isn’t aiding and abetting a criminal a crime?”

  “I said almost the same thing this morning,” I noted.

  “I’m not aiding and abetting anyone,” Clark insisted. “I don’t know where Willie is most of the time myself, and I seldom see him.” He jabbed the table with a meaty index finger. “And like I told Odelia, I work for a legitimate company, not directly for Willie Proctor.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Do you want more coffee?” In response, Clark held out his cup to me. I took it and went into the kitchen to brew him another cup.

  “Getting back to the matter at hand,” Clark said, “I think we should split up our efforts to cover more ground. You guys tackle the sister, and I’ll see what the cops are up to as well as run down more information on that Nathan Glick. It might be a dead end, but you never know. I’ll also dig more into Chris Cook.”

  I brought Clar
k’s refilled mug back to the table. “Didn’t one of the boys see Zach enter the house that night?” he asked as I set it down in front of him.

  “I do recall reading that in the report you sent over, but I can’t remember which one.” I went to our office and retrieved the report, skimming it along the way. “According to this report, it was Chris who claimed to have seen Zach enter the house.”

  “Yeah,” Clark said as he turned the hot mug around in his hands. “I want to have a chat with that kid. Maybe I’ll hop a red-eye tonight to Illinois.” He pulled out his smartphone and started checking flights. “Best to get to these people before the cops break the story to the media, which could happen at any time.”

  “I’m still surprised they haven’t,” Greg said.

  “It’s probably because they haven’t reached his father,” Clark said, still looking at his phone. “Or the cops are hoping their silence will flush out the killer. One thing is for sure, whoever did this wanted that body found and knew who Zach was. If nothing crops up on the news, they might get antsy because they’re not stirring the pot as they had hoped.”

  “So you’re thinking this was all for show?” Greg asked.

  Clark shrugged. “It’s just one way to go, especially with that note attached to the body. But if it is and the news goes silent after the initial body find, the people behind it might go a little off the rails because they’re not getting the attention they expected.”

  I became alarmed. “You don’t think they’d dump another body on me, do you?”

  Again my brother shrugged, making me want to shake the snot out of him for a straight answer. “They might. That’s why it’s important we get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. The cops, especially the feds, have their own game plan in play. We need to have ours.”

  “But what about your schedule?” I asked. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

  Clark looked up from his phone at me. “I am doing it, sis. On my way over here I got a call from Willie. I’m to stay on this until it’s over. He’s worried about the two of you—and about his possible exposure.”