Chuck tapped the table for emphasis. “Dan wasn’t trying to protect Karen. He wanted to kill Franco for another reason. And he wanted to kill two birds with one stone and you were the other bird. From the get-go, he had it in for you for some reason; that was his real motive for the murder. So he framed you. And he did a pretty slick job of it.”
“But why?”
“Maybe it’s something you know, but you don’t know you know. Think about it. Anything going on with you and Karen?”
Jorge’s eyes flicked back and forth. His lips moved and then he froze.
“What did you just think about?”
“It was nothing, really.”
“Jorge, in my experience, when someone says, ‘it was nothing, really,’ they mean ‘it was something, really.’ Now what crossed your mind when I asked you about Karen?”
He clasped his hands behind his head. “Dan and I’ve been partners for three years. When we first teamed up we took our wives and went out on a sort of double date to get to know each other, you know?”
“I did that when Snoop and I partnered up. Except I’m single and it was Snoop and Janet and me.” Chuck sipped his coffee.
“Right. Anyway, Karen and Dan’s wife Jessica hit it off right away. Turns out, they both played tennis in high school. Jessica was a few years older so they never met each other when they were competing.” He hesitated.
Chuck waited.
“So Karen started playing tennis with Jessica.” He stopped again.
Chuck said, “So?”
“Every week for the last three years.”
Chuck waited again. Sometimes you just let people answer in their own way.
Jorge spread his hands and shrugged. “It’s just strange.”
“What’s strange about a regular tennis date? I know guys who play poker or golf every week for years with the same bunch of guys.”
Jorge leaned his elbows on his knees. “It’s just that Karen and I used to play tennis a lot. Most weekends we played for two hours at a public court right next to our apartment.”
Chuck scoffed. “And Karen doesn’t play with you anymore. What, you’re jealous?”
“No, no, it’s not that. When Karen and I finished playing, we’d race each other home. It was a hundred yards. And we’d come in all sweaty. We would, ah, take a shower together. And then, ah—” He stopped, swallowed. “—we’d make love like we were on fire. It was like the exercise of playing tennis made us both so horny that we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
“What’s your point?”
Even though they were alone in the conference room, Jorge leaned toward Chuck and lowered his voice. “Since Karen started playing with Jessica, when she comes home from a match, she’s always too tired for sex.” His eyes looked a little too bright. “That happens every week now. And Karen and I don’t, ah, get together very often anymore.”
Chuck waggled a finger. “When I told Dan about you and I meeting on the boardwalk near the topless beach, he made a comment about maybe you weren’t getting enough at home. He said that was why you were stepping out on Karen. But I thought he was joking. Are you stepping out?”
Jorge said, “Dan probably was joking. I don’t tell Dan all my troubles, so he doesn’t know about my, ah, situation with Karen. But I haven’t ever cheated on Karen.”
“Then why would Dan think you had?”
Chapter 75
Chuck found over three hundred hardware stores in Atlantic County. Over two hundred of them carried the Craftsman brand of pry bar used to force Smoot’s apartment door. No matter how many uniforms the PCPD used to canvass hardware stores, and even if Chuck had bought the pry bar, their chances of finding evidence of that were slim to none.
Judging from the prosecutor’s discovery file, Chuck figured they hadn’t even tried. They’d found that pry bar in his desk, and that was enough for them. Chuck thought it was sloppy police work.
Harry’s Handy Hardware had ten stores in Atlantic County. And Harry’s had a state-of-the-art computerized perpetual inventory system.
Chuck went to their regional headquarters in southwest Miami where he had an appointment with the company’s security director, Wallace Townsend.
“Come in, Mr. McCrary. Please make yourself comfortable. You want coffee?”
“That would be great. And please call me Chuck.”
Townsend’s secretary asked, “How d’you take your coffee?”
Chuck told her and she left.
“You said something about a criminal investigation?”
Chuck handed him a business card. He would’ve shown him his PI license too, but Bigs took it when he and Kelly arrested Chuck. “The Public Defender’s Office in Atlantic County retained me to investigate a homicide for them.”
As soon as Chuck had been arrested, Darcy Yankton had seized the opportunity to fire him, but she had, at one time, retained him.
He handed Townsend a picture of Dan Murphy and another one of the pry bar. “I want to find out if this man bought this pry bar from one of your stores within the last few months.”
Townsend looked at the two pictures and placed them on his desk. “Can you narrow down the time frame a little?”
Chuck told him the date of Smoot’s murder. “Sometime before that. I’d like to start then and work backwards. And this guy…” He tapped Murphy’s picture, “lives closest to your store number 717 on Southwest 44th Boulevard near 67th Avenue. Could you check that store first?”
“Sure. Pull your chair around over here.”
Their coffee came.
Townsend adjusted his keyboard. “I’ll pull up this SKU number first. We carry pry bars in several different lengths. I can’t tell from this photo which one this is. How long is the actual bar?”
Chuck pulled out the official police crime scene photo that had the black and white scale laid next to it. “It’s seventeen inches.”
Townsend punched a few keys. “That’s part of a three-piece set of 12- , 17- , and 25-inch pry bars.” He wrote down the SKU number on a Post-It Note and stuck it to the edge of his monitor. He punched in the number and studied the screen. “Oh, that SKU is very popular. We sell a lot of those.” He smiled. Then he frowned. “Of course, that’s not good for your investigation, is it?”
Chuck shrugged. “Whether it is or not, I’m just looking for the truth.”
Townsend looked at the screen again. “Since the first of the year, we’ve sold thirty-seven of those pry bar sets at that store.” He punched another key. “Four were sold for cash. The other thirty-three used credit cards. Would it help if I gave you the names of the customers who bought them?”
Like Snoop said, Chuck was due for a little luck.
Chapter 76
Sunday morning Chuck parked in the shade of a huge live oak tree across the street from the park and opened the side windows of his van. He had a good view of the tennis courts through the windshield. He knew Karen, of course, but he’d never met Jessica. He watched them through binoculars as they played a hundred yards away. Karen had a strong, two-handed backhand. Jessica was a lefty with a powerful serve-and-volley game.
Karen worked as a bank teller and always had Sunday off. Jorge said Jessica worked five days a week in the office of the Gladesview apartments, a large complex on the western edge of town.
The two women played for twenty minutes. Then they grabbed their gear and left the court.
They walked to Jessica’s car, a late model blue Corolla sedan. Both women got in and left Karen’s car in the parking lot.
Chuck followed.
Fifteen minutes later, Jessica’s Corolla pulled into the Gladesview Apartments. Chuck followed them around to the back. Most of the parking spaces were filled, and the other vehicles hid Chuck’s van from view as the two women climbed the stairs hand-in-hand. They weren’t carrying their tennis gear, but Jessica carried a small bag.
She used a key to open the door to apartment 2274 and both women went in.
&nb
sp; Chuck noted the apartment number and booted up his tablet computer. The apartment complex had its own Website. Apartments ranged from one to four bedrooms. The 2200 building featured all two-bedroom apartments. He called the leasing office and spoofed his way to learning that 2274 was available.
The apartment was vacant. And furnished.
An hour later, Karen and Jessica came out and he followed them back to the tennis courts. Before Karen got out of the Corolla, she leaned over and kissed Jessica. This was not an air kiss between good friends. This kiss was on the mouth. For a long time.
Poor Jorge. Poor Dan.
Chapter 77
“Abe, I have the credit card receipt and the cash register tape where Murphy bought the pry bar three months before Smoot’s murder.”
“That’s great. How the heck did you find that?”
Chuck told him about Wallace Townsend and his magic inventory system.
“Why didn’t Murphy pay cash for the pry bar? That wasn’t very smart. He left a trail for you to follow.”
“Because he bought the pry bars long before he decided to murder Smoot.”
Abe said, “I don’t understand why Murphy bought the pry bar so soon. You said he didn’t know Smoot was out of prison until a couple of weeks before he killed him.”
“People do buy pry bars for legitimate reasons, Abe. Maybe he wanted to pry something.”
Abe laughed.
Chuck said, “I’ll call Kelly and Bigs with this so they can get a search warrant for Murphy’s apartment. Maybe they’ll find the other two pry bars from the set. And maybe the store’s security cameras have a video of him buying it.”
Abe picked up his phone. “I’ll call the DA and set up a meeting.”
Chapter 78
Jorge raised his beer and took a long pull. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
He and Chuck both had their feet propped on the rail of Chuck’s balcony.
“Jorge, you been running around on Karen?”
Jorge took another drink. “Like I told you, amigo, I’ve been tempted I admit. Karen’s just not there for me anymore. But I haven’t strayed off the farm. Yet.”
Chuck turned his beer bottle in his hands. “Dan said you did.”
“I told you before and I’ll tell you again: Dan’s wrong.”
“Okay. That makes what I’m gonna tell you a lot harder for you to take.”
Jorge dropped his feet to the deck. “You followed Karen and Jessica, didn’t you? I figured you would when you asked me where they play tennis.”
“Yeah, I followed them. I’ve got bad news.”
Jorge set his beer bottle on the table so hard that Chuck thought either the bottle or the glass tabletop would break. Fortunately, neither one did. “Jesus H. Christ, I was afraid of this. She’s having an affair with Jessica, isn’t she?”
“Sorry, buddy.”
He jerked to his feet and paced across the balcony. “Goddammit. Goddammit. Goddammit.”
Chuck asked, “You want the details?”
“No…yes…I don’t know.” He stopped and Chuck saw the pain in his face. “Do I want the details?”
Chuck shrugged. “I always figure it’s better to know than not know. But that’s me. It’s your call.”
Jorge closed his eyes and nodded. “Tell me.”
“Jessica works in the office of the Gladesview Apartments. She knows which furnished apartments are empty. Last Sunday, she and Karen cut the tennis short and went to a vacant furnished apartment for about an hour. I presume that’s what they do every time she tells you they’re playing.”
Jorge smashed a fist into his other palm. “Goddammit.”
Chuck stood and made calming motions with his hands. “Look, amigo, you can’t go off half-cocked on this. You need Karen in your corner right now. Play this close to your chest until I clear your name.”
Jorge started to protest.
Chuck held up his hands. “You gain nothing if you blow up your marriage. Just cool it, okay?
“Okay.”
“Now, the big question: Does Dan know?”
Jorge pursed his lips in thought. “I don’t think so.”
“Dan thinks you chase girls. Suppose he knows that something is wrong with his marriage to Jessica. Suppose he thinks Jessica is being unfaithful.” Chuck snapped his fingers. “But suppose he thinks she’s cheating with you. That could be his motive to frame you.”
Chapter 79
Chuck called Snoop and Jorge to his condo for a strategy session. His grandparents had gone to a movie matinee.
Clint heard the meeting from his bedroom where he was studying. He walked into the living room.
Chuck paced back and forth by the glass doors as the three men discussed the case. “Okay, we have to consider that since Murphy framed me for Smoot’s murder, he also framed you for Franco’s murder, Jorge.”
Jorge glanced at Clint. “Chuck, we shouldn’t discuss this in front of Clint. He’s too young to have this in his life.”
“Jorge, my younger sister was killed in a drive-by shooting when I was eight.”
“Oh God. I’m sorry to hear that, Clint.”
“I watched her bleed to death, man. I can take hearing about this. Besides, I might be able to help.”
All three of the older men spoke at the same time. “How?”
Chuck stopped pacing.
Clint sat in a chair. “Chuck, I been thinking about that night you asked me about a few weeks ago.”
He pronounced “asked” correctly. He’s out of the ghetto finally. Chuck gave himself a little mental high five. He gestured for Clint to go on. “And…?”
“Maybe I did see something that night that might help you.”
Jorge started to say something. Chuck gestured for him to stay quiet. “Go on.”
“Something woke me up. I didn’t know what it was, so I turned on the light. I looked around my room, but I didn’t see or hear nothing—I mean, anything—out of the ordinary. I started to go back to sleep when I thought I’d take a quick look out the window.”
“What did you see?”
“This dude dressed in black ran to the middle of the street where some other dude was lying on the ground beside this car. I watched this dude shoot the guy on the ground. Then he robbed the dead guy.”
“Whaddya mean?”
“It was pretty dark, but it looked like he went through the dude’s pockets and took his wallet and stuff.”
“Was he wearing gloves?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Close your eyes. See the man again in your mind. Watch him run to the center of the street. See him bend down.”
“Yeah.” Clint opened his eyes. “His hands were as black as his shirt, but he had a white face. He wore gloves.”
Clint moved to the center of the room and squatted. “He leaned over like this.” He demonstrated. “He pointed a gun at the building where I was crashing and shot it three times. Bang, bang, bang.” Clint returned to his chair. “Then he ran over to the building next door and turned on a flashlight.”
“The building next door?” Chuck asked.
“Yeah, the one to the south. Closest to that car that was parked in the street.”
Chuck looked at Snoop. “I knew it. When I visited the crime scene the first time, I thought the place with the bullet holes in the building was not the best place to shoot from. It was the next building south.”
He turned back to Clint. “What did he do there?”
“I couldn’t tell, man. He shined that light around a bunch. For maybe a minute. Then he run off down the street.”
“Which way did he run?”
“South.”
Chuck turned to Snoop. “Toward 84th Street.”
“Where we found the surveillance video of him before and after the shooting.”
Chapter 80
It was late afternoon when the four of them arrived at the crime scene. The parking lot was half full. “Show us where the shoo
ter was.”
Clint walked over to the curb. “The dude was standing here the first time I saw him.” He looked up at the window of the room where he used to sleep to get his bearings. “Yeah, about here.” He turned to the street. “Then he jogged out here.”
Clint jogged to the center of the street and dropped to his knees. “He shot the guy again.” He mimed the action. “He robbed the guy.” Clint leaned over and pointed both hands back at the building where he used to live. “Then he fired three times at my building.”
“He must have put Franco’s gun in his hand after he was dead,” said Jorge. “He used Franco’s finger to pull the trigger.”
“Jorge, you investigated Franco for months. Was he right-handed or left-handed?” Chuck asked.
Jorge closed his eyes and his head moved as he recreated a scene in his mind. “He was right-handed.”
Snoop nodded. “That’s right, Chuck. The autopsy report.”
Chuck turned to Jorge. “The gunshot residue was on Franco’s left hand.”
Jorge grinned. “My dumb bastard partner used the wrong hand.”
Chuck gave Jorge a high five. “Okay, we’re on a roll. Clint, show us where you saw the flashlight.”
At the building entrance, a middle-aged man in a sports coat and slacks came out. “I’m the office manager here. Can I help you folks?”
Chuck handed him a card. “I’m Chuck McCrary and these are my associates. We’re investigating the shooting that happened in front of your building a few weeks ago, right out there in the street.” He pointed over his shoulder with a thumb.
“I remember that. But I thought the police finished their investigation.”
“I work for the defense attorney. The police may have to re-open the case.”
The manager frowned. “This won’t block my entrance, will it?”
“I think we can make our investigation without blocking the entrance.”
Double Fake, Double Murder (A Carlos McCrary, Private Investigator, Mystery Thriller Series Book 2) Page 19