Wedding Cake

by Josi S. Kilpack

  “You’re in the bedroom now?” Shawn asked.

  “Yeah,” Sadie replied. She turned her head so she could read the paper on top of the stack, which turned out to be a copy of Sadie’s property listing with the county. A sense of vulnerability shot down her spine. Why would Jane want this?

  She explained what she’d found to Shawn and after a brief debate with herself about not touching anything, moved the paper aside. The next sheet was a printed copy of an article Jane had written in The Denver Post about Sadie almost three years ago, calling her a magnet for murder and implying an inappropriate relationship between Sadie and Eric. The humiliating article had been followed up with a TV interview where Eric had reflected a far more serious relationship between the two of them than had really existed and raised questions regarding Sadie’s moral code. The whole situation had been so embarrassing—yet Jane hadn’t seemed to fully understand what Sadie was so mad about. Did Jane keep the article because she loved the reminder of the damage she’d done with it?

  Sadie’s uneasiness turned into a full-fledged case of the creeps as she moved on to an article about Shawn’s birth mother, Lorraina, being life-flighted from a cruise ship to a hospital in Anchorage. Another article was from a press outlet in London, reporting on Breanna and Liam’s upcoming wedding. The wedding had actually taken place in Alaska on the fly, but most of England didn’t know that and Breanna and Liam were still planning a large celebration in October. Did Jane know Breanna was already married? Sadie’s motherly instincts rose at the inclusion of her kids in Jane’s stalking.

  Beneath the article was a photocopy of one of Pete and Sadie’s wedding invitations. Sadie could hardly believe it. She’d only mailed fifty invitations out. Where would Jane have found one? Someone on her guest list had either willingly shared information with Jane or had been unfairly targeted because of their connection to Sadie. Her mind spun with possibilities, and she had to consciously calm herself from the rising anxiety.

  “What am I looking for?” she asked Shawn as she turned to get a three-hundred-and-sixty degree view of the room. “I’m losing my focus.”

  “Uh, well, we want to know what her intentions are here and who she really is,” Shawn reminded her.

  “Right,” Sadie said. The stack of papers were the only things in plain sight, and she finished glancing through them, not finding anything that explained who Jane really was. Since Sadie was in the bedroom, she started pulling open drawers and rifling through socks, underwear, and T-shirts, looking for anything that might be a type of identification. There was a red T-shirt that said “Tigers Earn Their Stripes, 2003.” Could it be a high school shirt? She told Shawn about it.

  “So we just have to find a high school somewhere in the country with a tiger mascot and red as one of their school colors? I’m sure there are only about five hundred of them.”

  Sadie frowned and put the shirt back.

  “She’s not going to leave anything that might lead to her real identity just lying around,” Sadie said to herself as much as to Shawn. “She could have bought that shirt at a thrift shop for all I know.” Still, it was the only item that advertised any kind of personalization.

  “Right,” Shawn confirmed. “So look between mattresses, underneath things, behind drawers. Places she’d hide something.”

  She finished rifling through the drawer—carefully so as not to make it obvious things had been rifled with—and closed the last one. “What if nothing’s here?”

  “At least we’ll know that,” Shawn said. “Dang, I want to be up there helping.”

  “You need to stand watch.”

  “I know, but I still wish I were up there.”

  Sadie, however, was glad he wasn’t. She couldn’t possibly keep her anxiety in check if he weren’t making sure Jane didn’t walk in on her. Though she’d broken in to plenty of places over the years, she’d had enough bad experiences with it that she’d lost the thrill of victory that came with her earlier snooping. “I need both hands to move faster and displace less, I need to go.”

  “Okay, I’ll let you know if I see anything. Though if you hear me beating someone up down here, you might want to hurry.”

  Sadie barely registered what he’d said until after she’d already ended the call. Then she started looking beyond the obvious places. She pulled all the drawers out of the dresser, looking around the floor inside the dresser where it would be easy to hide things. She found nothing.

  In the closet were three boxes. Two of them were indoor plant lights. Why on earth would Jane need those? The other was filled with a variety of wigs, not including the blonde one Sadie had seen earlier. She reached to the bottom and moved things carefully, not wanting to disrupt any organizational efforts Jane might have in place, but it seemed to simply be wigs—seven or eight of them in different styles and colors.

  After putting everything back in the closet, Sadie checked under the bed, behind the dresser, and between the mattress and box spring—nothing. She returned to the living room, moved furniture, pulled off cushions. She even checked the edges of the carpet to see if anything pulled back. Nothing.

  She made sure to put things back as perfectly as possible even though she knew that every time she touched anything she was taking a huge risk. Her stomach hurt from the tension. When she moved into the kitchen, she had to pause to stretch her arms over her head and take a few deep breaths in hopes of calming herself down both physically and mentally.

  A bit more centered, she continued on, opening the fridge again and taking a picture of the contents. Did the limited food on hand mean Jane was eating out a lot? If so, maybe people would have recognized her at restaurants, right? Plus, there were only about twenty eating establishments in the entire city. How hard would it be to canvas those places with a copy of the sketches? She filed that idea away for later and began checking all the cupboards and drawers, most of which were empty save for a few dishes and utensils.

  In the cupboard next to the sink was a jar of instant coffee and a jar of creamy peanut butter. She moved the two jars apart to see what was behind them and then moved them back when the rest of the cupboard was empty. She turned the peanut butter in an attempt to get it in the exact same position it had been before she touched it. She wished she’d taken a “before” picture.

  Only the bathroom was left and, once again, Sadie turned up nothing other than some Paul Mitchell shampoo and the same brand of deodorant and perfume Sadie wore—creepy. She was feeling discouraged when she found herself staring at the toilet. In San Francisco, she’d removed the back of the toilet and used it to free herself from her bindings. She knew the back of a toilet was an often-overlooked compartment, somewhere people might store or hide things they didn’t want anyone else to find.

  Sadie carefully lifted the lid off the back. She looked into the stained interior and frowned—it was empty. Then she looked at the underside of the lid. Velcroed to the top of the lid were three prescription bottles. Clever.

  Carefully, she put the lid on the bathroom counter, upside down so the bottles faced her, and got close enough to read the information. Between the three of them she was able to get a full name.

  “Valerie Smith,” Sadie read out loud. Was it Jane’s real name or another alias? It sounded like an alias. Either way, the name might have a history they could access that would give them information they simply didn’t have right now.

  All three prescriptions had been filled at a Walmart in Omaha, Nebraska, within the last two months. One of them—for something called rabeprazole—had been filled less than three weeks ago. Sadie pulled out her phone and took half a dozen pictures at different angles, feeling high on the success of this discovery but increasingly anxious about how long she’d been in the apartment. They were lucky Jane hadn’t come back, but that relief only reminded Sadie that Jane had to be gone so long for a reason that certainly wouldn’t work out in Sadie’s best interests.

  Sadie’s phone rang, making her jump, and she looked to
see that it was Shawn before answering it. “Is she back?”

  “No,” Shawn said, “but you’ve been up there for twelve minutes and I’m getting freaked out. I also found something regarding the guy in the basement apartment I want to show you.”

  “Okay, I’m almost done. I found something good.”

  She ended the call and replaced the toilet lid, looking around to make sure she hadn’t missed any other similarly clever hiding places. She quickly checked under the sink and behind the miniblinds before heading toward the door, scanning the apartment one last time on her way.

  Her eyes landed on the file box under the table, and she hurried toward it, kneeling down so that she could assess it before she touched it. There was a small padlock on the front, the kind used on luggage, which made the contents of the box all the more intriguing. What treasures did it hold? She’d have to break the lock somehow to find out, which would certainly put Jane on alert.

  Sadie vacillated for the space of two seconds, and then shook her head. She didn’t want Jane to know anyone had been there and that meant Sadie couldn’t take anything but pictures. And the pictures she had were good ones that she hoped would be beneficial to the investigation.

  Assured she’d done what she could, Sadie exited the apartment, and only as she turned the thumb lock on the inside of the knob did she realize that she couldn’t relock the dead bolt from the outside without a key.

  “Biscuits,” she said under her breath. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? But she knew why. Sometimes her brain protected her from information that she didn’t really want to think about at the time. If she hadn’t picked the dead bolt, she wouldn’t have gotten inside, and she’d needed to get inside.

  But now she was in a pickle. Jane would know the dead bolt had been opened, so she would know someone had been inside. After pondering on the situation for half a second longer, Sadie realized there was nothing to be done for it and hurried back inside. In for a penny, in for a pound.

  She grabbed the file box from under the table and was almost back to the door when she remembered the newspapers in the kitchen and the articles from the bedroom. She went back for them, her stomach a bundle of nerves. Would Jane retaliate when she realized her apartment had been searched? The idea left Sadie’s heart thudding in her chest and her head buzzing. Then again, all this information might help them locate her and put an end to this.

  Sadie made sure the thumb lock was turned, though it seemed superfluous, and then hurried down the stairs, the loot held close to her chest.

  “I didn’t know you were gonna take stuff,” Shawn said, alarmed, as she descended the steep staircase as quickly as she dared. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “I wasn’t planning to take anything either, and, no, it’s a really bad idea!” When she reached the bottom, Shawn took the loose articles from the top of the file box. “I couldn’t relock the dead bolt, which means she’ll know someone was here anyway so we might as well take what we can. Let’s get out of here. What did you find?”

  “At the bottom of the stairs.” He nodded in the direction of the basement apartment entrance as they hurried up the driveway, but Sadie didn’t look, her heart was racing. “There’s a spot set up for smoking—a couple of chairs and an overturned bucket. On that bucket was a mug they’ve been using for an ashtray.”

  “Okay,” Sadie said impatiently.

  “From Pep Boys,” Shawn said.

  Sadie looked at him with her eyebrows raised.

  “So I called Mack and he said that his buddy used to work there. He quit about four months ago to take a job with the Chevy Dealer in Sterling.”

  “That’s how she knew her way around Pep Boys,” Sadie said.

  “I guess,” Shawn said with a shrug as they took quick jog-steps to make up for how much time Sadie had spent in the apartment.

  “I’ll have Pete get Malloy to bring this guy in for an interview. You have his name?”

  “Yeah, Mack texted it to me.”

  “Great,” Sadie said, the euphoria of accomplishment almost replacing her anxiety. They were nearly to the sidewalk when a police car came to a quick stop in front of the driveway. They both froze, then looked at each other as though to say “Are they here for us?”

  “Stop right there!” an officer yelled as he stepped out of his car. He hadn’t pulled his gun but had his hand on his hip holster as he faced them.

  Sadie knew 90 percent of the Garrison police force so she recognized him but didn’t know his name.

  “We received a report of a possible break-in at this address. I’ll need to see some ID and hear a pretty good explanation for why you’re in such a hurry to get out of here.”

  Chapter 16

  For the second time in one day, Sadie was at the Garrison police department explaining herself to Malloy who fixed her with that condescending stare she hated. She assumed Pete was in the building somewhere, but she didn’t know if he was aware of what had happened. At least she was no longer on the sidewalk where the neighbors had come out to see what was going on. Jane could have driven by at any time and seen them standing outside of her apartment, which is why Sadie offered to drive to the police station with the officer and have Shawn follow in her car. She’d rather talk about what happened in private.

  “You should have given us the address,” Malloy said. “And let us follow up on it.”

  “I know,” Sadie said, trying to sound humble in hopes it would diffuse Malloy’s anger. It was easier to be humble since things had unraveled. If she and Shawn had gotten away with it, she would probably have been a bit more defensive. “But I worried that the red tape you guys would have to go through to get a warrant would slow things down.”

  “Instead, you broke the law by breaking and entering. Not to mention theft.”

  “But it was Jane’s apartment,” Sadie said, “and—”

  “We do not know if that apartment was this Jane woman’s apartment.”

  “It was absolutely her apartment,” Sadie said, trying not to sound condescending. “She had all those articles about me and my family. She had a copy of my wedding invitation.”

  “We have no verification that it’s her apartment,” Malloy said. “I understand you’re convinced, but the police department needs facts, not assumptions. Which is why we have to get a warrant before we just randomly break into apartments. Do you realize our chance of apprehending her when she returned is lost now? If a neighbor hasn’t already told her about you being there, she’ll learn as soon as she returns.”

  “The neighbors!” Sadie said, leaning forward in her chair. “Have you guys talked to the neighbors? They can verify it’s her apartment and identify her. If one of them did call her to tell her about the break-in, then they would have her actual phone number rather than the stolen phones she keeps calling us from. The documents I took from the apartment ought to prove it’s her apartment as well.”

  “The documents you took illegally, you mean?” Malloy countered angrily. “You say you understand police procedure, but we can’t use those documents when they were obtained illegally. You’re hurting this case, Sadie, not helping it, and you’re putting all of us in a very awkward position.”

  Sadie let out a breath and looked at the floor. “I was trying to help.” This time her humility was perfectly sincere. “I was trying to figure out who she was—who she really is.” She thought of the pictures on her phone of the prescription bottles. If she told Malloy about them, would she get in even more trouble? Would he be able to follow up even though she’d obtained that information illegally too? She didn’t dare take the risk, and she didn’t want to give him more reasons to distrust her either. If only that tenant hadn’t called the police. People were such busybodies. “Even if the file box is inadmissible in court, can’t you look through it to get other information?”

  “No, I can’t look through it!” Malloy said, his neck getting red. “It was obtained illegally! We can’t go through illegally obtained
evidence.”

  “Just like you couldn’t go into that apartment without a warrant, but I could,” Sadie countered. She really wanted him to understand her motivations, but he clenched his jaw even tighter. “So, maybe I can look through the papers and see what might be in there? That file box could have—”

  “You stole them!” Malloy said loudly enough that Sadie pulled back in her seat. “You burglarized someone’s apartment. I can’t give you back the items you stole. Do you have any idea how complicated you have made things? You could very well end up on the wrong side of this situation and be the one facing jail, Sadie.”

  “Well, it’s not like she’s going to file charges,” Sadie said. “And she’s certainly not going to show herself in order to file a police report—then you’d get her for the phones and the cake and everything else.” And if Jane didn’t go back to her apartment, she was limited in regard to the disguises she could use from here on out. Maybe she had some items in her car, but Sadie felt confident that the majority of Jane’s costume supplies had been stored in her apartment. Along with those weird lights.

  “We don’t know it was her texting you any more than we know she’s the one who defaced your cake or stole those phones or even rented that apartment,” Malloy countered. “The only person we know who broke the law is you, Sadie.”

  “The apartment!” Sadie said as another idea struck her. “Have you contacted the landlord to see the rental agreement? And this guy who lives in the basement apartment—he’s sweet on her and used to work at Pep Boys. If they were close enough that she pegged his former employer as a good place to get a phone from, then he’s got to know something.”