“Detective Samuelson.”
“Vance, its Zack.”
“Hey, Zack. What’s up? What are you reporting this time? Homicide? Breaking and entering? Someone run a traffic light?”
“Do you think I enjoy calling you all the time?”
“What do you need, Zack? I’m kinda busy here.”
“What do you know about Taylor Rossen?”
“Taylor Rossen? The reporter?”
“Right.”
“That’s it. That’s all I got. I know she’s a reporter for the Gazette. Why are you asking me this?”
“She bugged my cell phone,” I explained. “I wouldn’t put it past her to screw around with my landline, either. Also, her brother is the dude in the picture I sent you.”
“Aren’t you a veritable fountain of information today? Be careful, Zack. Those are some serious accusations,” Vance said. His voice lowered. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes. Jillian told me.”
“Jillian Cooper? Owner of Cookbook Nook?”
“The one and same. I’m on her cell ‘cause I flat-out don’t trust using my own.”
“I like Jillian. She’s friends with my wife.”
“Not surprising,” I chuckled. “I get the impression she’s friends with everybody.”
“What is it?” Jillian whispered to me. “What did he say?”
I placed a hand over the lower portion of the cell.
“That you’re friends with his wife,” I whispered back.
“Oh. He’s right. We are.”
“Of course I’m right,” Vance said. “And I can hear the two of you whispering back and forth. Just tell Jillian hello for me.”
“Vance says hello.”
Jillian smiled and waved at the phone, “Tell him hello for me, too.”
“She says…”
“I heard her. If you were trying to mute the phone then it didn’t work. Cell phone mics can be anywhere. If you want to mute the phone then just hit the mute button.”
I lowered the phone and rotated it in my hands. I was looking for a physical button with either the tiny label ‘mute’ on it or else the universal speaker symbol with the slash through it. Before you judge me I’d like to remind you that I already told you I didn’t know much about cell phones.
“These things have a mute button? Who knew? So, listen, I’ve got my cell here. I shut it off after Jillian found a hidden app.”
“Just because you find an app on your phone that you don’t remember installing is not a reason to panic. It happens to everyone as they get older.”
Jillian, overhearing Vance’s comment, slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.
“I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask for that bottle of wine back, buddy,” I said with mock seriousness.
Vance laughed.
“So you think your phone is spying on you? Your own phone? Have you been drinking?”
Jillian held out a hand. She wanted her phone back. I passed it over.
“Vance? It’s Jillian.”
“Hi, Jillian. Care to tell me what’s going on?”
“There’s an app on his phone which doesn’t have an icon. Once we opened it we saw that all options had been turned on. Live call monitoring, ambient noise, remote camera access, everything. It’s spooky. I wouldn’t want to find that on my phone, either.”
I got the distinct impression that Vance was suddenly paying a lot closer attention.
“This was on Zack’s phone? How did you find it?”
“It’s Zack’s phone, alright,” Jillian confirmed. “I found it only because I saw his phone had a second screen available for apps only nothing was on it.”
“A second screen?” I heard Vance ask. Clearly his knowledge of smart phones rivaled my own.
“Yes,” Jillian said. “His phone is like mine. The second page wouldn’t appear unless there was something on it. I suspected there might be an app on it without an icon so I moved an app from the first screen to the second. It appeared, but to the right of where it should have been had it been the only app on that screen. It confirmed something was there.”
“How could Taylor have gotten her mitts on Zack’s phone?”
“Um, he, uh, gave it to her.”
“He what? He suspected her of being involved and he gives her his phone?! Put Einstein back on the phone.”
Jillian passed her phone back to me.
“He wants to talk to you again.”
“Yeah, I heard him,” I grumbled. “Vance? I’m here. In my defense, I gave her my cell before I had even considered her a suspect.”
“When the hell did you give her your cell? Better yet, why??”
“That’s how I got that picture of Gerald, the guy who told the newspaper all about me. I gave Taylor my phone so that she could transfer the picture to me since I didn’t know how to do it.”
“It doesn’t take long to send a picture from one cell to another. How could she have gotten some type of spying app on your phone in that short of time? How long did she have it?”
I was silent as I recalled the events of the encounter. How long had the phone been in her possession? Had it been long enough to install this secret spying app?
“Long enough,” I decided. “How did she even know about that app? Wouldn’t that suggest she’s used it before?”
“You bring up a very good point. If what you say is true, and it turns out Ms. Rossen is responsible for tapping your phone, then that would suggest your phone has been transferring data somewhere. Probably online, to a website. Our boys in the lab should be able to tell us where. If we can get access to it then we should be able to tell who the account belongs to and how long it has been used. Hell, we may very well learn that your phone wasn’t the only one that has been compromised.”
“Meaning what?” I asked.
“What you said. How would Ms. Rossen have known such an app existed? By having prior experience. This is a break that could clear you once and for all, Zack.”
“That’s music to my ears, pal.”
“Thought you might say that. Listen, how did you know Taylor and Gerald are brother and sister?”
“Jillian told me.”
“Well, if Taylor is Abigail’s daughter, then it’d make perfect sense why the two of them are conspiring against you.”
“Conspiring against me, yes,” I agreed, “but they aren’t working together.”
“How could you possibly know that? What, did you sit them both down and have a friendly chat with them?”
“Apparently the two of them hate each other,” I explained. “You couldn’t possibly get them in the same room together at the same time without some type of bloodshed ensuing. If I were to venture a guess…”
“Oh, by all means,” came Vance’s sarcastic response. “This I gotta hear.”
“Bite me, dude. As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted, I think both Taylor and Gerald are trying to get me out of the picture so that they can see who will get on their mom’s good side first. Abigail thinks the winery should be hers. She clearly wants to sell and I would imagine her kids want the money. The one thorn in everyone’s side is me.”
“Hmmm. If we can prove that your phone was tampered with, and if we can pin any of it to either of the Manson family there, then that’d be the proof we would need to bring them in for questioning. Where’s your phone now? Do you have it there with you?”
“I’ve got it here. It’s presently shut off, just in case there might be a way to remotely remove that incriminating app.”
“Smart thinking. Get that phone to me. I’ll have the lab boys put a rush on it. In the meantime I’ll see what I can dig up on Ms. Rossen.”
“You got it.” I ended the call, turned to hand Jillian her phone back when Sherlock, who had been napping on the ground at my feet, suddenly sprang up and began growling.
“What’s with him?” Jillian asked, looking down at the snarling corgi. “What’s the matter? Do you smel
l something, boy?”
Sherlock barked. It wasn’t the I’m-happy-to-see-you bark most dogs would typically do after seeing their owners come home from work, but more of the keep-your-%&^#$-distance-or-else-I’ll-rip-out-your-throat type of bark. Little Sherlock had either smelled, or heard, something and was letting whoever, or whatever, it was know that they were not welcome here.
Jillian followed me as I headed toward the living room. Just then we heard something that stopped us dead in our tracks. Someone had just inserted a key into the lock on the front door. Moments later we heard the door close. My blood froze. Someone had just unlocked my own front door and came in, as though they owned the place!
We hurried back to the kitchen. I shushed Sherlock as I knelt down to open the cabinets under the stove. I may not know where everything is in the kitchen but I do know that’s where Aunt Bonnie kept her cookware. I reached into the cabinet and grabbed the first handle I encountered: a cast iron frying pan. Hefting it like a caveman would do if he were holding a club, I pushed Jillian behind me and carefully stepped from the kitchen to the living room. My eyes widened with surprise. Sherlock had every right to be barking. The frying pan slipped from my fingers and clunked heavily to the ground.
There was a strange person standing in the middle of my living room, wearing a black hoodie sweatshirt and black pants. The hood had been pulled up and forward, obscuring the intruder’s face. Whoever it was had a gun pointed straight at me. A long, slender arm reached up to pull back the hood.
“Call off your dog or else the first shot is going right between his eyes,” Taylor Rossen coldly informed me as the gun she was holding swiveled down to point at Sherlock.
ELEVEN
The gun cocked loudly in the still room. Jillian and I were staring down the business end of a Glock 19. Several things struck me right off the bat. First off, how the hell did Taylor Rossen have a key to my house? I had the damn locks changed. Second, the gun she was holding was steady as a rock in her hands, suggesting she was quite comfortable with it, and, more than likely, had used it before. And third, a spine-chilling sense of dread had washed over me. That cold-hearted bitch was prepared to shoot Sherlock. I could see it in her eyes. Sherlock, on the other hand, looked as though he was ready to take on the intruder and not think twice about it
“Sherlock, get back here. RIGHT NOW!”
Even though I have never had any kids, and hadn’t ever had to use a ‘daddy’ voice on anybody, apparently I nailed it on my first attempt. Sherlock froze in his tracks. The corgi, with his hackles still raised, reluctantly returned to my side. He continued to bare his teeth and snarl at our uninvited guest.
“How did you get in here?” I asked as I stooped to hook a few fingers through Sherlock’s collar. “How the hell did you get a key to my house?”
Just then I felt something buzz my butt. I damn near jumped out of my skin. Thinking it was a bug of some sort I ended up doing something that could only be described as spanking my own ass. Twice. Jillian gave me such a concerned look that, despite the circumstances, I almost burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Taylor demanded. “And why did you just slap your butt?”
“It’s nothing,” I mumbled, sobering quickly. “Thought a bug might’ve landed on me.” The two women stared silently at me. “I’m not a fan, okay? I don’t like bugs.”
Taylor shrugged, reached into her front pocket, and pulled out a ring of keys. She slid one of them off and tossed it defiantly at me.
“I guess I won’t be needing that one anymore.”
Jillian bent down to retrieve the key.
“How did you get a copy of Zack’s house key?”
“That’s Grandma Bonnie’s old house key,” Taylor sneered. “Once Mr. Clueless here changed the locks then that became useless. I needed the new key. This key, in fact.” She selected a shiny new key from her key ring and unclipped it. She held it mockingly up to me.
“How did you get that?” I demanded. “I just had those locks changed. There’s no way you could’ve gotten a copy. Wait… don’t tell me. You’re friends with the locksmith, aren’t you?”
Taylor sneered, “What do you think? I’ve got dirt on just about everyone in town. That’s what you get for living in this crappy little shithole your entire life. Mick and I came to an agreement. He gives me a copy of every key he makes and I don’t tell the cops about his secret profession: cat burglary.”
“So you’re the one who killed Zora’s assistant,” I accused. “You’re the mastermind behind everything. But why? What did Debra Jacobs ever do to you?”
“Are you kidding me?” Taylor all but shrieked. The Glock started to shake in her hand, which didn’t make me feel any better. “That cold-hearted bitch deserved to die! You have no idea how vicious and cruel Debbie was. My mother used to have her babysit me. That woman lived to see others suffer. Did you know that she used to encourage me and my brother to fight? It made her laugh. Trust me. That sick bitch got everything that was coming to her.”
“Is that why you did all this?” I incredulously asked. “That’s why you stole the glass tiger? Just so you could get back at the lady who was mean to you during your childhood?”
It was Taylor’s turn to stare uncomprehendingly at me.
“I can see that I’ve given you way too much credit. You think I organized all of this just to exact some revenge on the woman who had been mean to me when I was little? If that was my motive then I would have targeted my own mother. She was twice as mean as Debra Jacobs had ever been and is at least ten times smarter than you will ever be.”
“What do you expect?” I snapped, growing defensive. “I never said I was a detective. I’m making this up as I go.”
“I’d recommend sticking to your day job,” Taylor nonchalantly told me, “but in a minute or two you won’t have to worry about that anymore.”
“How long have you been planning this?” Jillian asked.
“Ever since my mother informed me that she had been cheated out of her inheritance. If I didn’t do something then I was going to watch all my dreams fade away. Lentari Cellars was my ticket out of here, don’t you see? I had to do something.”
“I thought Abigail wanted the winery for herself?” I countered. I couldn’t picture Taylor’s mom as a doting mother figure.
The gun, which had been shaking in Taylor’s hand, suddenly steadied. She shook her head no.
“Of course not. She thinks she wants it for herself but I can get her to sign it over to me.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. She was pretty adamant about getting the winery from me. Downright bitchy, if you ask me.”
“I wasn’t,” Taylor sneered.
“Your mom is bankrupt,” I suddenly said. I’m not sure why I said that. Probably not my best move.
Taylor stared at me with undisguised malice in her eyes, “And whose fault is that?”
“Yours?” I guessed. Hey, what can I say? I have an innate ability to push the wrong buttons.
“Aunt Zora,” Taylor contradicted.
Morticia Addams? How did she fit into this picture? I was confused and I’m sure my face showed it.
“She was always the perfect one,” Taylor snapped. “She taunted my mother mercilessly, flaunting her successes. Everything she touched made money. My mother wasn’t as fortunate.”
“Let me see if I have this straight,” I began. “You arranged to have that glass tiger stolen from your, what is she to you? Great aunt?”
“She’s just my aunt,” Taylor corrected.
I gave Taylor a piteous look.
“You arranged to have your aunt’s gallery robbed just because you are jealous of her success? How lame is that?”
“What are you doing?” Jillian hissed at me. “Why are you egging her on?”
“Because it’s keeping us alive,” I whispered back. “If you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears.”
“Aunt Zora needed to know what it felt like to fail,” Taylor c
ontinued, beginning to pace across the living room.
“By killing her assistant – her friend – and stealing a priceless piece of art,” I accused. “That ought to make you daughter of the year. Or niece of the year. Whatever.”
“Shut up!” Taylor shrieked. The Glock was once more pointed back at me. “Do you have any idea how much of a pain in the ass you’ve been? Thanks to you and Dog Wonder the police now have my DNA on file.” Taylor pushed the sleeve of her sweatshirt up and showed me her right arm. It was bandaged.
“How’d you get hurt?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“The bitch cut me with her nail file,” Taylor ruefully told me, “and then pushed me into that wall covered by paintings. I put up a hand to brace myself but I ended up touching a painting. Imagine my surprise when an alarm went off. I never knew Zora had motion sensors on all those paintings. Obviously Debra did. Do you know what she did? She smirked at me, as though she had won. Well, I had the last laugh, didn’t I?”
“So you left that painting at the gallery?” I asked, confused. “Why didn’t you take it with you? The alarm was already going off.”
“I should have,” Taylor hissed. “I was simply out of time. I figured I’d return for the painting the following day to buy it off Zora. By the time I walked back into the gallery the painting was already gone. Zora told me that you and your dog had found blood on the frame and it had therefore been turned over to the police.”
“How did you get that picture of me for the paper?” I asked. “How did you even find it? I don’t think it was posted anywhere online.”
“You might not have posted it,” Taylor haughtily informed me, “but that doesn’t mean someone else didn’t.”
“Who?” I wanted to know.
“Phoenix is a big city,” Taylor smirked. “Once I knew where to look it was easy to find you.”
“The paper published that picture nearly two weeks ago,” I pointed out. “How long have you been stalking me?”
Case of the One-Eyed Tiger Page 19