“We should have a name soon,” Carter said, setting his phone in his lap. He wants us to stay here until he arrives.”
“It’s a West Virginia plate,” I said. “She’s a long way from home. How in the world does she know Kenneth?”
“Maybe he hired this woman to kill his wife, and the contents of that briefcase holds the final payment.”
“Then what was in the envelope she gave Kenneth?”
“Beats me,” he said.
It was pitch black outside. Even the few motel lights placed at each door were not enough to give one the illusion of safety. “Why did she choose to stay here? It’s a dump,” I said.
“Places like this don’t require a credit card. Always a plus if you’re trying to maintain anonymity.”
“Do you think Kenneth wanted Mari dead?”
“I try to stick to the facts. And the facts are still obscured. But, if I had to take an educated guess, then yes. I think he killed her or hired someone to do it.”
“I just don’t understand,” I said with a sigh. “As much as I love this work we do, I’ll never get why people feel compelled to end a life.”
“Some people are monsters,” Carter said, his voice monotone. “And they don’t give a shit how it affects others. The same thing for people who commit suicide. It’s a selfish act that only hurts the ones left behind.”
I looked at Carter, could barely see his features in the dark, but I could guess what he was thinking. Five years ago, his only daughter overdosed on drugs and it was never proven as to why. Was it suicide or an accident? Carter didn’t like to talk about it, had only mentioned it once. I often wondered if he felt partly responsible because he never saw it coming.
A set of headlights entering the parking lot prompted us to look up.
“He got here in short order,” Carter said.
When the dark colored sedan pulled into the spot next to us, we rolled down the window. “She hasn’t come out since we got here ten minutes ago,” Carter said.
Detective James scanned the Motel and the lot. “Good. I hope she’s in a talkative mood.”
We all exited the car and headed toward room 7. Detective James checked his holster and removed his badge from his hip. “You didn’t happen to notice if she was carrying a weapon, did you?”
Carter shook his head. “Didn’t see one. Did you get a name from the plates?”
“The car is registered to a Janine Emmons. Curiously enough, Janine Emmons is an inmate at the Lakins Correctional Center in West Virginia.”
Carter seemed confused. “She busted out of jail?”
“What nationality is the woman in room seven?”
“White.”
“Janine is African American. I’m thinking this is either a stolen vehicle, or the person in room seven is a friend of Janine’s.” The detective headed toward the room. “Are you guys coming with me?”
Carter and I followed him without a word.
I searched the dark parking lot, and noticed no one else around. It appeared as though only two of the twelve rooms were occupied.
The detective knocked three times on the door and waited. No response. He knocked three more times. Finally, the door opened just a crack. “Who is it?” she asked, her annoyance evident.
“Bridgeport Police Department. We need to speak with you, ma’am.”
Her brown eyes grew wide. “Police? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Ma’am, we need to ask you some questions regarding a Mr. Kenneth Parker.”
The woman drew in a quick breath. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”
He showed her his badge. “Fine, if you want to play it like that, I can haul you down to the station and keep you in a holding cell overnight. I think it’s advisable if you co-operate right here, right now.”
The woman released the chain lock and opened the door. Cigarette smoke wafted out of the room. “This is harassment,” she said, hands on hips. “I haven’t broken any laws.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” the detective said, moving into her room. “That car parked in front of your room isn’t yours. Did you steal it?”
Her eyes narrowed as her slender body trembled with anger. “I certainly did not steal it. I’m borrowing it from a friend.”
“Can I see some I.D., ma’am?”
The woman didn’t move. Her gaze shifted warily to Carter and I. She must have known she didn’t have a chance of running away. “In my purse. Over there.” She gestured toward the bed.
“Go ahead and get it,” the detective said. “Nice and slow.”
The woman let out a chortle. “Don’t worry. I don’t have a weapon. I’m not allowed to carry one.”
“Not allowed?” he said.
“First year of probation. If I’m caught with drugs or weapons, I go back to prison.”
“Let me guess, Lakins Correctional Center?”
“How’d you know?” she asked.
The detective gestured to her purse. “Your I.D., please?”
She dug a wallet out of her purse and handed it over.
“Katrina Waters.” he said. “Could you please tell me what your business is with Kenneth Parker?”
She chuckled derisively. “Business? Well, that’s one way to put it.”
“How do you know Mr. Parker, ma’am?”
Her shoulders slumped forward as she let out a sigh. “We used to be married, okay? He divorced me soon after I was sent away. I started using my maiden name again.”
“When did you get out?” the detective asked, handing the wallet back.
“Last week,” she said. “They released me two months early due to overcrowding. Apparently, there’s an over-abundance of white-collar criminals these days.”
“What was your meeting about this evening at the rest stop?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head, clearly not eager to talk.
“Do you know that his wife is missing?” the detective asked.
“Look, I just got out last week. I borrowed my friend’s car, drove up last Friday, and called Kenneth. I wanted to see our son. I haven’t talked to Ethan in over a year.”
Detective James crossed his arms over his chest. “And …”
“Kenneth told me not to come. He told me Ethan wants nothing to do with me.” She swallowed hard. “Kenneth asked me to stay out of their lives. Can you believe that? As if I would.”
“Keep going.”
“I told Kenneth to go to hell. I wasn’t about to abandon my only son.” She paused to take a deep breath. “Kenneth offered me a hundred grand to stay away.”
“To stay out of Ethan’s life?”
“Asshole actually thought I’d take the deal.”
“But you eventually did?”
She closed her eyes again and shook her head. “It’s not what you think.”
The detective led her over to the table and sat her down. “I want to hear everything.”
She grabbed her pack of cigarettes, tapped one out, and lit up. Two puffs later, she seemed more relaxed. “I never used to smoke,” she said. “But everyone smokes in prison.”
The detective pulled his seat closer. “Ms. Waters?”
She looked up and nodded. “Right. Sorry. After I talked to Kenneth Friday morning, I was upset. He wouldn’t give me Ethan’s phone number. I decided to stay in town and try to locate my son. I figured he was probably in college, but had no idea where. I’d read a little about Mari on the Internet and found out that she and Kenneth were hosting some kind of fancy charity shindig, so I showed up.” Katrina took a few more drags before finally extinguishing the cigarette in a Coke can. “I used to be beautiful at one time, just like his new wife. I know it’s probably hard to believe. Beauty fades, just like Kenneth’s love for me after I took the fall. It had only been two weeks. Two weeks, when he came to visit me the first time in prison. When he told me he wanted a divorce, I thought I’d kill myself. Hope is a funny thing. I’d come to realize that five years isn’t
that long and that I could tough it out. Then I heard about his engagement. At that point, the only thing that kept me going were Ethan’s letters, but those came less and less.”
“So you wanted to get revenge?”
“Of course I wanted revenge. I wanted to hurt Kenneth worse than he’d hurt me. I went to prison for him.”
Detective James leaned closer. “What do you mean?”
“I was Kenneth’s accountant. We met twenty years ago when he hired me. He seemed so smart and decent. I didn’t know he was fixing the books, but I’m the one who ultimately signed off on them. Kenneth convinced me that if I didn’t take personal responsibility for the fraud, we’d lose the business and everything else we’d worked for. The bastard let me take the fall, then divorced me two weeks after my incarceration.”
“So,” he prompted. “Did you get revenge?”
Katrina smiled as she fondled the half empty pack of cigarettes. “In a way.”
“What happened?”
She tossed the cigarette pack across the room as if she’d decided right at that point to quit. It bounced off the bed and onto the floor. Her expression softened in apparent resignation. “Like I said, I showed up at their party wearing a ridiculous outfit I bought at the Party Store. The mask was perfect, too. Even Kenneth didn’t recognize me at first. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he realized it was his ex-wife. He grabbed my arm, led me to his office, and told me he could have me arrested if I didn’t leave right away. I laughed in his face and told him I had every intention of telling his beautiful wife the kind of man he really was. He threatened to kill me. He didn’t know I’d been recording the whole conversation.”
“So it was you who asked Mari to meet at the warehouse the next morning?” the detective asked.
“Before I left the party, I lost Kenneth in the crowd and approached Mari. I told her exactly who I was. At first, she seemed alarmed, as if I might try to embarrass her. But I assured Mari that I only wanted to give her one thing: a recording of the conversation I’d just had with Kenneth. If she wanted to know more, I’d tell her everything. I told her I’d be waiting at the old Gristmill warehouse the next morning at eight a.m.”
“What did she say?”
“She looked at me like I was crazy, but took the recorder anyway.”
“Were you surprised when she showed up the next morning?” the detective asked.
“Yes and no. Come to find out, she had listened to the recording and decided not to mention anything to her husband until she heard my side. So I told her everything.”
“How did she respond?”
“Disbelief at first. Then the tears came. I got the sense she’d known about Kenneth’s dark side for a while.”
“What happened next?”
“I told her I was afraid for her safety. She said she needed time to think. She probably didn’t know if she could trust me or not. I asked her if she’d tell me which college Ethan was attending. She said she would call and tell me as soon as she had everything figured out. I didn’t want to force her. And then … well, I left her in the parking lot. She was sitting in her car crying when I drove off.”
“Wait a minute.” The detective waved a hand as if to back up. “Are you telling me that you didn’t hurt Mari Parker?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Revenge?”
She sputtered a contemptuous laugh. “It’s not her fault she fell for a conniving asshole. Besides, I wanted her to expose him. She’s a highly respected woman. People would believe her, not an ex-con.”
“Then why did you meet with Kenneth this evening?”
Katrina sunk down in her chair like a small child being admonished. “Look, I was desperate. I’d contacted all of my old friends and nobody would tell me where Ethan was going to college. I’ve been living in this dumpy room for almost a week. Finally, this afternoon, Kenneth called me with an offer. If I agreed to stop making calls, and left town immediately, he’d give me two hundred thousand dollars.”
“And you had no idea that Mari had been missing since Saturday morning?”
“Not until I saw the front page of the local paper today. I didn’t read the details. I just assumed she’d decided to run away from Kenneth. I thought maybe she went back to Europe.”
“Had she mentioned she might do that?”
“No. She didn’t seem to know what she would do.”
“But her car was found abandoned at the warehouse three days later. Purse and cell phone still inside. What time did you leave her that morning?”
“Around eight-thirty,” she said.
“Now think; did you notice any other cars around? Could someone else have been there?”
Katrina chewed her lip as she considered the question. “There was a dark SUV parked across the street when I pulled onto the main road, but no one was inside. I figured, maybe someone ran out of gas. Honestly, I didn’t care because all I could think about was trying to get in touch with my son.”
“Was the SUV a BMW?” the detective asked.
“I don’t remember,” she said. “Could have been. Why?”
“Your ex-husband drives a BMW.”
“What are you saying? You think Kenneth killed her?”
“If Kenneth followed his wife to the warehouse and realized that you’d gotten to her, they may have gotten into an argument and things got out of control.”
She gasped. “My ex might be a bastard, but he’s no killer.”
“Even if she threatened to leave or expose him?”
Katrina let out a long breath and her hands were shaking. Her expression suggested guilt mixed with anger. “This is all too much.” She rubbed her eyes. “So what happens next?”
“I need you to stick around town. You may need to testify to everything you told me tonight.”
“Do I have to give the money back?”
Detective James appeared to think it over, then said, “What money?”
Katrina’s lips curved into a smile. “Thank you.”
“I’ll need you to come to the station tonight and sign an official statement.”
“If Kenneth really did hurt his wife, I’m more than willing to do so.”
Chapter 16
The next morning I lingered in the shower with thoughts of last night’s revelations. Katrina Waters had provided damning testimony against her ex-husband, painting Kenneth as a ruthless and violent miscreant who likely offed his wife. Detective James currently had him in custody for questioning, but Kenneth refused to talk until his lawyer arrived.
There was nothing left for Carter and I to do but wait.
I donned my running gear and opened the front door, craving some exercise even though the air was frigid. It was then I noticed a package just outside my door. Too early for regular mail delivery, I surmised the brown box had been hand delivered. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was from my favorite bakery down the street. I surveyed the neighborhood. No one around.
Max must have dropped it off on his way to work. He knew how much I loved the raspberry scones from Beach Peddler Bakery.
I opened the top flap and gazed in disbelief. Two giant white frosted cupcakes, each with a cherry on top, looked like a pair of breasts staring back at me.
There was a note:
Roses are red, violets are blue, cupcakes are sweet, and so are you.
Max could be such a romantic. Abandoning all thoughts of running, I took a bite of the cream-filled goodness, my taste buds tingling with the mixture of buttery vanilla, coconut, and hint of lemon. The frosting was so thick it stuck like paste to the side of my mouth.
I went back inside and called Max to thank him.
“Hey, honey,” I said, when he answered. “You are so thoughtful.”
“I am?”
“I must have been in the shower when you came over.”
“Um, what are you talking about?” He sounded congested.
I laughed. “Hello? The cupcakes you left for me. They’re d
elicious, by the way. And the poem? You crack me up, you know that?”
“Sarah, seriously, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m still in bed. I think I have the flu.”
“You mean you didn’t bring me cupcakes this morning?”
“I’m sorry. I wish I had.”
I felt a gagging sensation in my throat. Maybe it was the thick frosting. I began to cough.
“Sarah, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just … I have no idea who these are from. The note was pretty personal. I thought for sure it was you.” When it finally dawned on me, I cringed. “Oh shit, I bet they were for my neighbor upstairs. Jackie has a new boyfriend, and … Oh God, I feel so stupid.”
Max chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you figured that one out, Sherlock.”
“So, anyway, are you okay? You sound awful.”
“Nah,” he said, sniffling. “I just need to get some rest. Maybe I’ll feel better tonight.”
“Why don’t I make something and bring it over for dinner. Chicken soup sound good?”
“You’re a peach.”
* * *
A few minutes later I was knocking on Jackie’s door with the box of cupcakes. She was still in her pajamas. Her dog Chester jumped on me, almost knocking the box out of my hands.
“Sarah,” she said, ushering me inside. “What you got there?”
“These were sitting outside my door. I thought they were from Max, but I believe they’re yours.”
With a bewildered look, she opened the box and peered inside. Two cupcakes: one perfect, the other a complete mess with a chunk missing. She giggled when she read the note. “These can’t be for me. Tom and I broke up a few days ago.”
“Well, maybe these are a consolation gift.”
“Believe me,” she said, “that guy would never do something this nice.”
“But you seemed excited about him.”
“He loves sushi. You know how I feel about sushi. That’s all he ever eats. Everyone knows a real man eats meat.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she said, waving the comment away. “Anyway, I’m back on the Internet dating sites and I have a few prospects.”
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