“How does the mother come in?”
Les allowed his disgust to show. “You’ve gotten away with killing two people, what the hell’s one more? Her original intent about Deena Pierce doesn’t matter — the end result was a dead girl. She’s taken her revenge on Raney and everything we know indicates an emotionally unhealthy relationship between mother and daughter. Catherine doesn’t have much if anything to give Crystal, but maybe there’s a little life insurance and the trailer has to be worth something. From what we can find out, there aren’t any other relatives. I think waiting until after her eighteenth birthday to do this was part of the plan because she doesn’t require a guardian. With Catherine dead, she’s on her own and has at least a starter bankroll.”
The Chief swung his gaze to Bev again. “The retired fire marshal was convinced the grandmother killed her parents, then two husbands, one kid, and almost killed the other one?”
“Yes, and I can get the reports if you want me to.”
“Don’t bother at this point. What the hell is it you want to go after?”
Bev recognized the Chief was almost convinced. “Check the financial end first. See if money is involved. I’d like to get hold of her computer, too, to see what she’s been researching on line. If the lipreading expert comes through for us, I know we can get a warrant. Of course, there are…”
The Chief stabbed a blunt finger at her. “What? You get somebody to do whatever the hell it is they do — the hacking bullshit to poke around without a warrant? You know damn good and well it won’t be admissible if they find something.”
Yes, he was there with them. “Okay, true. So we get to run with this?”
He set his mug down and pressed both the palms of his hands on the surface of the desk. “Walk, don’t run. Get to your other expert and, in the meantime, comb through everything else again. Don’t bother to tell me you’ve done it already. We bring this girl in to sweat her without something solid, the next thing we know we’ve got a harassment suit and headlines reading about heartless police treatment of a helpless victim. You clear on this?”
“Yes, Chief,” they said in unison.
He relaxed and rubbed a hand across his mostly bald head. “You know what’s pissing me off? If you are right, the mother, Catherine, managed to escape being killed by her mother only to be done in by her daughter? It doesn’t get more goddamn unfair. There needs to be justice in here somewhere.”
“We’re on it,” Les said grimly.
Bev’s elation with permission for action mingled with their shared outrage. If they couldn’t uncover physical evidence, the new circumstantial pieces should paint a clear picture. The problem, of course, was prosecutors hated circumstantial no matter how obvious the conclusions seemed to be. The easiest solution was a confession from Crystal. Would they have enough to draw one out of her? Bev had to admit she’d been careful and clever. Then again, she hadn’t been through a real interrogation. The problem with lies was keeping them straight and in Bev’s experience, people didn’t realize how difficult it could be when faced with hard questions. If they were correct about what had happened, Crystal had a hell of a lot of lies to manage.
Crystal calmed her anger at the delay in the insurance check and pulled the lightweight bedspread from the dryer. Why the damn death certificate hadn’t been quickly signed as an accident was more frustrating than worrisome. Old man Cunningham explained it was such an unusual case, the medical examiner had run additional tests and assured her everything would be cleared within a few days. Fine, there was nothing for her to be concerned about. If the extra pain relief medication and high alcohol levels were noted, it would support the finding of a careless accident. She didn’t want to call attention by objecting to other tests. After all, wouldn’t the normal reaction be to want to know as much as possible?
She’d already taken the lawyer into her confidence about selling the trailer and he’d contacted a real estate agent on her behalf. The woman was scheduled to come the next afternoon and Crystal wanted the place looking as fresh as she could make it. Too bad the trailer park wasn’t on a slice of water like some of them. In checking recent sales on-line, it was actually worth more than she’d realized, and Cunningham had easily bought her story about needing to make a new start for college. He was going to draw up a Power of Attorney to allow him to handle everything in her absence. Better yet, so far he’d refused to take payment from her for his services. What an idiot. At least the old fart hadn’t made any kind of pass at her. At his age his dick was probably all shriveled up anyway. She assumed he would want something in the end, but doubted it would be a large amount.
She moved into her mother’s bedroom that she’d thoroughly cleaned, having tossed several bags of belongings into the dumpster. She given away the useable clothes and cheap jewelry. She’d been surprised to find the gold wedding band she’d never seen her mother wear. It should be worth a few bucks. She’d debated about the .32 Guardian pistol her mother had kept in a shoe box in her closet. In one of those times she guessed was supposed to be some weird mother-daughter thing, they’d gone to the indoor range and practiced until the instructor felt Crystal was proficient. She had to admit it had been exciting even though she hadn’t showed much enthusiasm to her mother. Having a pistol was probably practical considering she didn’t know what her living situation would be. She would have to look up the rules to see what she was supposed to do when she moved. She decided to keep it loaded along with the single box of ammunition in the drawer of the small table next to the easy chair in the living room. Why her mother, who was a heavy sleeper, thought it make sense to have the thing in the closet had been another of her stupid ideas. If there was a problem, how would she have gotten to it in time? She sure as shit wasn’t going to wait, fumbling around. She’d hear anyone trying to break in first and have the aimed pistol waiting. If she had to wait many more days maybe she would go to the range again for more practice. Not that it ought to matter with no greater a distance than she would be shooting.
God, it was nice to have the trailer to herself. Now that she didn’t have to worry about it being seen, she had the Audubon print carefully wrapped in tissue paper in a box in her bedroom where she could look at it whenever she wanted. She touched it as little as possible. Jesus, she hoped the damn thing was authentic. If so, there could be a lag with the sale because the right buyer might not be immediately available. She’d read enough to know a dealer was likely to offer a lower price in exchange for cash in hand. To be done with the whole thing might be worth the trade-off though.
She finished making the bed and sprayed another round of air deodorizer. Clearing out the extra room had been the worst since all the ridiculous shit her mother had dragged home from garage sales and accumulated over the years had been crammed into the closet and onto cheap bookcases that lined the walls. She couldn’t take a chance on not going through everything after what happened with the print. What a joke it would have been if she’d found anything else of value in the mess. She hadn’t of course, but at least it was done. She’d emptied the desk, too, and the room did resemble an office once all the crap was gone. She’d been mildly surprised to realize with getting rid of as much as she had, there was decent space to move around.
Crystal went into the kitchen to reheat the last cup of coffee. She carried it to the table and logged onto the apartment search site for Jacksonville. There were choices among community colleges and she’d decided on an associate degree in business as a starting point. At only eighteen she couldn’t legally drink yet, and she didn’t want to take a chance on faking her age with the kind of career she had in mind. Becoming a bartender in a trendy spot could bring her in contact with young professionals, but she would keep watch for an open hostess job at a nice restaurant instead. She probably couldn’t get hired in one of the really classy places with no previous experience. She’d found others that were a cut above the chain restaurants and she did hav
e a background in retail. She added getting a general letter of recommendation from Leslie at Scuba-Plus to her task list. With that and an appropriate outfit, she could present herself as more reliable than the average college freshman. She wanted to be where people didn’t mind spending money. To be around them, see how they behaved, what they ate and drank. A year of work and then she could apply to the Top Ten Dining type of places. She reasoned that a lot of people who dined in those restaurants might also have personal assistants and she could watch them in action.
She hadn’t given up on going to Palm Beach with the kind of big spenders she wanted to be around. Jacksonville was temporary, a spot in which to prepare for the next phase. There were art museums to go to and theater to attend. By being careful with her money, she could afford short trips to travel to other cities for ballet, symphony, and maybe even opera. She’d already checked flights to Atlanta, New Orleans, Boston, and New York. It wasn’t that she cared about any of those activities, or at least she didn’t think she did and wouldn’t know until she tried. She needed to absorb the sense of the experiences though and she’d done enough research to know many of the major businesses in Palm Beach had home offices in other cities. Being able to make a casual comment about the beauty of the Boston Opera House or a favorite painting in a famous museum were included in her planned makeover. She intended to go well beyond simply dressing better. She couldn’t help the life she’d been born into, but she sure as hell wasn’t stuck in it any longer. She might decide to finish college, too, depending on how everything unfolded. She had to reach a certain level of sophistication to be credible and she couldn’t rush that. If two years wasn’t long enough, she might as well continue toward a degree and keep polishing her style. The great thing about on-line courses was access without being tied to the schedule of going to a physical school. She could work out how to juggle her time once she was moved. Making friends in a new place was of no importance and she wouldn’t allow distractions to interfere with what she needed to learn. That wasn’t to say she might not meet people who could be useful. The problem was, she wasn’t likely to in the beginning and she didn’t want to be saddled with a bunch of losers who had no plan for their own future.
She distinctly heard a car door slam and realized it was someone outside her trailer. Footsteps stomped up the steps and a familiar voice yelled her name before pounding a fist on the door.
Gary Fitzhugh? What the hell was he doing? Why hadn’t he called if he wanted to come over?
Bev was on the way back to the station when Les called her cell. “Hey, listen, this might not be anything, but can you go to Crystal Sharpe’s trailer?”
“Uh yeah, I’m close by. What’s up?”
“I don’t know. Edna Plummer just called me and said something odd seemed going to be on, but she wasn’t sure she should notify the station. If there weren’t so many weird things about this case, I’d say it’s probably nothing. Who the hell knows though at this point? I’m up in Homestead for my appointment with the lipreading expert.”
“Okay, I’ll swing in,” Bev said, switching lanes to be able to make the turn. She’d set the financials query into motion first thing that morning and slipped down for a quick cup of coffee with Doc Cooper. He hadn’t registered surprise with her blunt allegations and confirmed their theories might be valid from a medical perspective. He’d been equally blunt in explaining, unless poison had been used in any of the three deaths, there wouldn’t be medical evidence for him to provide. He dismissed the idea Crystal had access to anything exotic. He rattled off a few potential poisons that could be derived from common substances and agreed to research to see if there was anything else he wasn’t immediately aware of.
Bev saw a well-used black F-150 truck next to the older silver Honda at Crystal’s trailer and Edna Plummer rushed out to stand at the bottom of the steps to Crystal’s trailer. She was clutching a Yorkie to her chest. “I’m not trying to be nosey, but I was finishing Bitsy’s walk. I’d seen this young man with Crystal before. This was different though and he looked really angry when he arrived. I said hello and he completely ignored me and banged on her door. Well, pounded was more like it. He hasn’t been in there long, but I just don’t have a good feeling about it. That’s why I called.”
The sound of a crash, as if something large had been knocked over, came from the trailer and Plummer’s eyes widened. Bev snapped her head around. What the hell? “Please go inside Mrs. Plummer. Call the station and tell them I asked for a patrol car.”
Bev darted to Crystal’s door, rapped on it with her left hand, right hand snaking behind to feel the grip of her weapon. “It’s Detective Henderson.”
“Go away, everything is fine.” There was a shrill note to Crystal’s voice.
“No, it’s not,” bellowed a male voice.
“Don’t…”
Bev was through the door before the sentence ended and stopped abruptly. Shit! Gary Fitzhugh was standing in front of the couch, hands clenched into fists. Crystal was next to the easy chair, the small table and broken lamp on the floor, a pistol gripped in both hands, pointed at Fitzhugh.
“Put that down,” Bev said firmly, starting to draw her weapon. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Don’t do it,” Crystal said, shifting the pistol. “I told you not to come in.”
“She’s fucking crazy,” Fitzhugh said, anger seeming to override whatever fear he was feeling. “She fucking killed Matt.”
“And maybe Deena Pierce and probably her mother,” Bev said, allowing her hand to drop lightly to her side. “See, Crystal, we’ve got most of it figured out.”
The girl didn’t waver, the look on her face as disturbing as were her words. “I’m surprised. I was really careful, but it’s been very busy for me and I did forget to get rid of the pony bottle. It doesn’t matter though. Poor Gary, how was I to know he had a secret crush on me? I thought he was just a good friend. It never occurred to me he would come here and try to force himself and become so angry after I rejected him. And you showed up almost in the nick of time. I had the pistol just to scare him, you know, and he grabbed for it. We were struggling when you came in. He broke away, shot you, and as frightened as I was, I somehow managed to get the gun and shot him. It was all terribly confusing.”
“I’ve got back-up on the way,” Bev said, rapidly calculating the short distance between them. Crystal’s stance wasn’t that of an experienced shooter. Would the girl hesitate for a second, allowing her to feint, lunge to the floor, and draw?
“Then I shouldn’t waste time,” she said and narrowed her eyes.
“Now!” Fitzhugh yelled as Bev instinctively dropped left, grabbed her gun and flinched from a shot exploding. She fired twice in Crystal’s direction, an escaped moan registering before she saw the fallen body, the gun dropped away from the outstretched hand. She jerked her head to see Gary prone on the floor, no blood, unlike the girl toppled to her side. Bev scrambled to her feet, crossed over, kicked the pistol away, and knelt to feel for a pulse she suspected wasn’t there. A round glass paperweight was near the body.
She heard Gary moving. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” he said. “She dead?”
Bev straightened, turned and looked at him for the first time. “Yes. Why did you throw that?”
He exhaled deeply and ran a hand through his hair. “Couldn’t think of anything else to do. I’m sure as hell glad you were as quick as I thought you might be.”
Bev heard the siren, shifted her gaze to the hole blasted in the wall near the door, and nodded to the couch. “Sit right there for now. I’ll let them know it’s okay.” She yanked the door open, two patrol cars coming to a stop inches from the steps. She raised her left hand and holstered her gun as she spoke to dispatch on her radio. What was Fitzhugh’s real background to cause him to react like he did? Not that she gave a shit considering, but she was curious. And why the hell was he here?
Kevin was out of the car and half-way up the steps.
“I’m okay, Sharpe is dead, and we have a witness. Keep everyone out, but there’s no danger to anyone.” She saw Mrs. Plummer’s door cracked open.
It wouldn’t take long for Kevin to have everything under control. She went in and sat next to Fitzhugh. “We’ll do the official stuff about why you were here as soon as we can. It’s going to get pretty crowded, but I do want to know what the hell you were doing making that throw. I’m damn glad you did, mind you.”
He half-smiled with more resignation than humor and tapped the scar on his left forearm. “I grew up in a tough neighborhood. We made the news way too many times with bodies being found on the sidewalks. You learned to react fast and I guess some habits stay with you. Let’s just say I didn’t exactly have an ideal family situation. I got the hell out as soon as I could and never looked back.” He pointed toward the body. “What you said about Deena though, what was that?”
Kevin thrust his head and torso through the door. “Uh, Detective, can I see you for a minute?”
Shit, what now?
Kevin partially blocked her view and his voice was barely audible. “This Mr. Cunningham who’s saying he’s Crystal Sharpe’s lawyer is here.”
Bev motioned Kevin to exchange places and the tall, slender man dressed in navy blue Chinos and a pale yellow short-sleeve shirt stood on the ground, his foot on the bottom step. His grey eyes were clear and he had a full head of white hair cut just above his ears. “I’m Malcom Cunningham and I live a few trailers over. I’ve been helping Crystal and I gather there’s been an incident?”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that, Mr. Cunningham, and at the moment…”
“My apologies for interrupting,” he said, the Boston accent more pronounced. “My intentions with helping Crystal was because of admiration I had for Catherine. It is possible I have information about the past several days that could be of use.”
Shades of Deception Page 22