Shattered (A Jenny Watkins Mystery Book 3)

by Becky Durfee

  “I’m curious,” Jenny began, “what did the police say about the crime when it first happened?”

  Pam sighed as she tried to recall. “They said they couldn’t eliminate any possibilities. At first, anyway. They did say that they looked for similar crimes in neighboring counties, even nationwide, but nothing seemed to match up. Eventually the consensus became that she had been the intended target, but no one really seemed to have a decent motive for it.” She snorted. “As if any motive for murder is decent.”

  “Did they waste a lot of time pursuing that ‘Russian mob hit’ theory?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Pam said as she lovingly rubbed her belly. She smiled at Jenny. “But they didn’t have the insight that you do. To them, it was a viable lead.”

  Jenny looked over at the three suspects and noted that Mark Smalls was heading toward the front door by himself. “Ooh. This is my cue,” she said, scrambling to stand up. “Let me see what Lena has to say about this guy.”

  “Go get ‘em!” Pam said with a smile.

  Mark stood outside on the cobblestone walkway, cupping his hand around the end of a cigarette as he flicked his lighter. Jenny did her best to look nonchalant as she stepped out the door, taking some deep breaths as if she was just enjoying the fresh air. Using her best acting skills, she looked at Mark and said, “Hey, didn’t I see you the other night at Rudy’s Steakhouse?”

  Mark blew smoke out of the side of his mouth, presumably to be polite. “Yeah, that was me.”

  “What was your name again?” Jenny asked.

  “Mark. Mark Smalls.” He glanced down at her name tag. “And I assume you are Beatrice?”

  Jenny had forgotten about the joke she’d played on Elijah—the joke that had gone unnoticed. “Oh, call me Bea,” she said casually.

  “So are you here with Elijah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you his wife?”

  “No,” Jenny remarked with a laugh. “We’re just friends.”

  He nodded as he took another drag from his cigarette.

  Realizing she might need a reason to hang out with those guys later, Jenny asked, “How about you? Are you here with your wife?”

  “I don’t have one of those,” he remarked. “I used to, but not anymore.”

  “Same here,” Jenny said. With a laugh she added, “A husband, that is. I never had a wife.”

  Mark shrugged. “I’m an open minded guy. That wouldn’t bother me.”

  “Me neither,” Jenny assured him. “I just prefer the company of men.” She flashed him a flirty smile, which sickened her inside. She hated that her job required her to flirt with potential murderers.

  “Do you need a cigarette?” Mark posed.

  “No, I don’t smoke. I’m just out here because crowds get to me.” She ran both hands through her hair. “After a while I just need to take a break from…people.”

  Mark grunted with understanding. Jenny racked her brain for something else to say; she had always been bad at striking up conversations with strangers. “Do you live around here?” she found herself asking. That was as good of a start as any.

  “About twenty minutes from here.”

  “How about the guys you were with at Rudy’s? Do they still live here? Or is this a rare opportunity for you guys to get together?”

  “Nick lives close by, but Adam lives out in Colorado. We don’t get to see him that much anymore, so this has been cool.”

  “I’ll bet,” Jenny replied. Another awkward silence threatened to ensue. “Is he in town long?”

  “Another couple days. Then he’s flying back to Colorado to spend Christmas with his wife and kids.”

  His wife and kids, Jenny thought. Those poor, unsuspecting people. If it turned out Adam did this, there would be more victims to this crime. “How about you? Do you have any kids?”

  “Two girls,” he replied.

  “I bet they’re excited for Christmas.” Jenny realized her possible mistake. “Provided that’s what your family celebrates.”

  “Yeah, we celebrate Christmas. And excited is an understatement. They’re literally counting the days.”

  Jenny smiled genuinely, eager for the day her own children would be excited for Christmas. “That’s great.”

  With one last exhale, Mark threw his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it. “Well, it’s been great talking to you.”

  “Yeah, you too. Maybe I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

  “We’ll be around; come find us if you want to hang out with the cool crowd.” He flashed a smile as he walked back into the building.

  Jenny stayed outside for a little bit so she didn’t seem suspicious. Or desperate. She contemplated Lena’s response to this encounter with Mark—or more precisely, her lack of response. Jenny didn’t get the feeling she had been in the presence of a murderer, although Lena’s murmur remained a quiet constant in the back of her brain.

  “Lena,” Jenny said quietly, “I know I told you to keep it down, but feel free to signal me when I’m on to something.” She looked around, hoping Lena’s spirit was close enough to hear the request and that she’d be capable of understanding it. Somehow she had seemed to understand the last request.

  And she seemed to understand Nick when he offered her a ride that night.

  “Can you speak English?” Jenny asked under her breath as she paced in circles. “Something tells me the answer to that is yes.” Although, Jenny thought, if she could speak English, why didn’t she talk to anyone at school? And why wasn’t she using English to communicate with Jenny?

  With a frustrated sigh and absolutely no answers, Jenny walked back inside to the reunion.

  Jenny resumed her seat at the table she’d shared with Pam, despite Pam’s absence. Jenny smiled, knowing exactly where Pam had to be. She seized the opportunity to focus her attention on Mark again, who had rejoined his group in an effortless conversation. Jenny once again noted that they seemed awfully relaxed for guys being connected to a murder.

  Lena’s soft murmur began to grow louder, causing Jenny to sit up straighter and look around. The three suspects were still a safe distance away; what could have been causing this change in Lena’s demeanor? As the clamor became nearly deafening, Jenny searched the room in a near panic.

  Quickly Jenny noticed Pam approaching the table, engaged in a conversation with a man who had bad posture and small, round glasses. Pam took a seat at the table, as did the gentleman accompanying her. “Jenny,” Pam said as she gestured with her hand, “This is Archer Davenport. He was friends with my sister Debbie. Archer, this is Jenny.”

  Horribly unnerved by Lena’s sudden volume, Jenny extended her hand to Archer, who did not do the same. “Sorry to be rude,” Archer explained, “but I’m battling a cold, so I don’t want to touch anybody.”

  “I understand,” Jenny said. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too,” Archer replied, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Although, I have seen you before.”

  Jenny was puzzled. “I’m not from around here,” she confessed. “Where did you see me?”

  “At Rudy’s Steakhouse.”

  Jenny’s blood ran cold. “You were there?”

  “Yeah,” he replied. “I saw you and Pam walk by. I was sitting in a booth by the ladies room.”

  Chapter 11

  Oh my God, Jenny thought. We’ve been wrong all along. But who is Archer? And what does he have to do with anything?

  “I didn’t even see him at Rudy’s,” Pam confessed. “Actually, I saw him; I just didn’t recognize him. He’s lost a ton of weight since the last time I saw him.”

  “Almost two hundred pounds,” Archer said proudly. “I had gastric bypass surgery. Best thing I ever did.”

  “Well, you look great,” Pam assured him.

  “Thanks. It’s a shame Debbie couldn’t make it,” Archer noted. “I would have loved to have seen her.”

  “It would have been a long trip for her. She’s
out in Arizona now.”

  “I know that,” Archer said. “We’re still in touch.” He seemed disproportionately proud of that fact.

  Jenny examined Archer with scrutiny as Lena tried desperately, and unsuccessfully, to get her message across. He seemed harmless enough—nerdy if anything. The fact that he had been friends with Pam’s sister was confirmation that he hadn’t been in the popular crowd.

  So what would this dorky, overweight boy have had against Lena?

  “I spoke to her just last week,” Archer continued, referring to Pam’s sister. “She told me about her new research project for work.”

  Pam smiled politely. “Even I don’t know about her new research project.”

  That, apparently, had been Archer’s cue. “Oh, well it’s a study designed to investigate the relationship between aspartame and arthritis symptoms. Aspartame is an ingredient commonly found in diet beverages, and there have been some unsubstantiated claims that the compound has been linked to multiple symptoms, including joint pain…”

  Jenny tuned out Archer’s words as she scoured the room for Elijah. Spotting him near the bar, Jenny said quickly and softly, “I’ll be right back.” She hurried from the table, marching directly over to Elijah, who was engaged in a conversation with several of his old friends. Unconcerned with politeness, she grabbed his hand and demanded, “Come on, Elijah. Let’s dance.” She pulled him away from his circle and onto the dance floor.

  A slow song was playing, so Elijah slipped his hand around Jenny’s back as he posed, “I assume you’re on to something?”

  “Archer Davenport.”

  “Who?”

  “Archer Davenport. He’s over there sitting at the table with Pam.”

  Elijah glanced over Jenny’s shoulder using only his eyes.

  “Has he ever been on your radar?” Jenny posed.

  Elijah shook his head. “No. His name has never come up.”

  “Well, I think he’s worth looking into. Lena started going crazy when he came over, and he was also by the ladies room the other night at Rudy’s Steakhouse. Lena’s screams became unbearable when I went to the bathroom. Maybe it was him that she was upset about and not Mark or Adam after all.”

  “Is that guy from my grade?” Elijah asked, still looking in his direction. “He doesn’t even look a little familiar.”

  “He’s apparently lost two hundred pounds.”

  A look of recognition appeared on Elijahs’s face. “Oh my God. I do know him.” He twisted his face. “What on earth would he have to do with Lena?”

  “I think that’s what you need to find out.”

  Quiet ensued, causing Jenny to pick up on Elijah’s obvious discomfort with the slow dance. He was incredibly rigid to the point of almost seeming robotic. To lighten the mood, she posed, “Do you like my name tag?”

  Elijah glanced down and let out a laugh. “Beatrice S., huh? Nice one.”

  “Thanks,” Jenny replied. “I was wondering how long it would take you to notice. I can’t believe you didn’t catch it. And you call yourself a detective.”

  “I was hyper focused, that’s all,” he replied with a more relaxed smile. “That’s what we detectives do when we’re on a scent.”

  “Oh, okay,” Jenny said sarcastically. “You were just hyper focused.”

  “I do have to admit the name tag is a nice touch, though. It’s totally something Brad would have done. I can tell you’re a Mongillo.”

  Now it was Jenny’s turn to feel uncomfortable. She had been raised in the Mongillo house, but she wasn’t a Mongillo. She was an Epperly. Like her true father, she was the voice of the spirit—an eternal reminder that would always be different than her siblings.

  Time to change the subject again. “So did you know Archer personally?” Jenny asked.

  “No,” Elijah confessed. “He didn’t have a lot of friends. I know it sounds terrible now that we are adults, but he was the fat kid. With glasses. And he dressed funny. Back in high school, those are reasons not to hang out with someone.”

  “Apparently Pam’s sister was friends with him.”

  “Yes, she was,” Elijah confessed. “But Pam’s sister wasn’t much better.”

  Feeling a strange camaraderie with Pam’s sister, Jenny found herself needing to defend her. “But apparently she’s happy now, out in Arizona and married with kids.”

  “I’m sure she is,” Elijah said. “We all grow up.” He let out a laugh. “Hell, some of the geekiest kids in our school went on to be the most successful. They were smart, so they got great jobs, made lots of money and found beautiful women. It’s funny how things turn out sometimes.”

  Jenny smiled. “It sure is.” Chalk one up for the dorky kids.

  The song came to a close, so she and Elijah let go of their embrace. “I think I’d like to go over and have a word with our friend Archer,” he noted.

  “Please do.”

  As Jenny followed Elijah to the table, the chatter in Jenny’s brain grew louder. She rubbed her temples, silently requesting the noise level go down. While it didn’t get softer, it grew no louder when they reached their destination.

  “Archer Davenport,” Elijah said with an extended hand. “Great to see you.”

  Once again Archer refused to shake hands, citing his sickness as his excuse.

  “So how’ve you been?” Elijah asked, pulling up a chair and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. It already looked more like an interrogation than a conversation.

  “I’m doing well,” Archer began. “I’m living down in Charlotte, North Carolina now.”

  “Oh yeah? What do you do there?”

  “I own a restaurant. The Archway Grill. I originally founded it with my friend Tim Ridgeway. That’s how it got its name. We took the Arch from my name and the way from his name and called it the Archway Grill. I ended up buying him out two years ago, so now it’s all mine.”

  Archer’s tone had an awkward quality that almost made Jenny uncomfortable. She could see why he had been unpopular.

  “Do you do a good business?” Elijah asked, looking a little too intently at Archer.

  “Can’t complain,” Archer said proudly. “We just got voted the best restaurant in Charlotte.”

  “Very impressive,” Elijah said.

  “At this point in the conversation, I would normally ask what you do for a living, but I already know that.” Archer once again seemed proud of himself. “You’re a homicide detective.”

  “That’s right,” Elijah replied. “And funny you should mention that, actually. I’m currently working on trying to solve Lena Christova’s case, and I have the funny feeling you might know a thing or two about her.”

  Archer let out a chuckle. “Congratulations, Mr. Murphy,” he said, looking Elijah square in the eye. “It only took you fifteen years to figure that out.”

  Chapter 12

  Jenny’s eyes widened as she looked back and forth between Elijah and Archer.

  “So you do know something…” Elijah said.

  “I bet I know more about her than you do,” Archer replied in an almost irritated tone.

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means exactly what it sounds like. I know more about Lena than you do. I know more about her than anybody in this country, aside from her parents.”

  Elijah leaned back in his seat. “I think I’ll need you to come into the station in the morning to make a statement.”

  “I can’t do that,” Archer informed him. “I have an early flight. I have to get back to my restaurant before the Sunday brunch shift.”

  “Well, that may have to wait.”

  Archer shook his head. “It can’t wait. Why don’t you just interview me here? I’ll answer any questions you have for me.” Archer looked as if he was challenging Elijah.

  Jenny instinctively reached into her purse and pulled out a pen and paper, handing them both to Elijah. At times like this, Jenny was glad to be a packrat.

  Taking the pen a
nd paper without acknowledgement, Elijah returned Archer’s unyielding look and replied, “Alright, then, why don’t you tell me how you know so much about Lena.”

  “We were friends,” Archer said matter-of-factly.

  “You were friends. Okay, then, how come I never saw you two together?”

  “We kept our friendship secret.”

  Jenny wondered if overweight, dorky Archer had actually been delusional, psychopath Archer.

  “So you expect me to believe you were friends with the most beautiful girl in the school, but you just kept your friendship secret?”

  “And why is that hard to believe?” Archer demanded while crossing his arms over his chest. “Because I was fat?”

  “Your weight has nothing to do with this,” Elijah informed him, although Jenny wasn’t sure she believed that. “It just seems strange that you’d keep your friendship a secret. Why would you do that?”

  “We did it to protect Lena.”

  “To protect Lena? To protect her from what?”

  “People like you. People like Jacob.” Pam fidgeted uncomfortably when Archer mentioned her husband’s name.

  “Do you really think Jacob and I were out to harm Lena?” Elijah asked.

  “You did it every single day.” Archer was growing angrier.

  “How did we harm Lena?”

  “All of those things you said about her. All of those things you said to her when she’d walk by. You didn’t treat her like a human being. You treated her like an object because she was so pretty. And Jacob was the worst one. He said some things to her that were downright nasty.”

  Jenny’s eyes shifted toward Elijah, whose shame was apparent on his face. Swallowing his regret, he sat straighter and said, “How do you know what was said about her?”

  “Because she told me.”

  “And how did she know? She didn’t speak English.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Archer informed him. “She knew as much English as you and I do. She was well versed before she even moved to this country.”

  While Jenny had secretly suspected this, the news seemed to be a bombshell to Elijah. “She spoke English?”