“He had to have been here recently. The daily calendar on the wall is flipped to yesterday’s date. Wouldn’t he leave a note or something on the door to let his customers know he’d be closed?” Juliet brushed the dust from the windows onto her pants.
“Can’t imagine that customer service is his highest priority,” Celeste said, pointing to a sign hanging above the garage. It was a distressed metal sign that read “You can’t fix stupid, but you can numb it with a 2x4.”
“Nice,” Juliet said. In the garage, an older model Ford Taurus was up on the jack with all four of its tires missing. Next to it was a rusted minivan missing a back window. The third bay was empty. “I don’t know what Kowalski was thinking, getting into business with this guy. They seem like polar opposites. I don’t get it.”
“His wife said he loved cars,” Celeste said. “I guess he saw the garage as an opportunity. I wish he’d had an accountant or someone vet this thing before he got involved.”
Juliet looked into the large trash barrel that sat outside Goodman’s side door. Some sort of motor sat at the bottom, and garbage covered it. There was a banana peel, the remnants of an emptied ashtray, and an envelope. Juliet turned the envelope over with the edges of her thumb and forefinger and crinkled her nose in disgust. It was wet with something slick.
“Celeste,” she called loudly. “Come here.”
Celeste trotted over, and then held her nose. “Ugh, what smells?”
“This address is familiar. Any idea?”
Celeste looked at the front of the envelope. “Yeah. Let me double-check something before we get too excited,” she said, pulling out her phone.
Juliet looked at the messy handwriting again and placed the envelope back onto the pile of garbage. She fished her gloves out of her belt and picked it up again, and then slid it into a plastic bag. The words were still clear through the plastic:
Morris Bright
310 Quail’s Nest Road
Shell Creek, MA 01994
Chapter Thirty-three
Sienna pulled out of Gretchen’s driveway, leaving her with the physical therapist. She’d come leaps and bounds since the early days after her accident. Sienna was sure she’d be able to walk again soon without assistance. Though her sadness still overwhelmed her most days, she’d found the tiny voice inside her that encouraged her to fight through the pain and to find out what was on the other side of the heartache and anger.
Her mind was on Juliet and what everything that had happened meant, and how they would deal with it, when her Bluetooth kicked on and announced Gretchen calling. She answered the call with a push of a steering wheel button.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but Monique has my checkbook with her, and I have to make out a check for my copay. Would you mind stopping by her house and grabbing it from her? She’s on her way home from the supermarket now and she’ll meet you there. I asked her to bring it over, but she told me she has a conference call starting soon. I don’t mean to be a pest.”
“Oh, Gretchen, you’re not a pest at all. I don’t mind getting your checkbook for you. Can you do me a favor and text me her address?” Sienna asked.
“Yes, I can do that. Thank you, honey.”
Stopped at a light, Sienna clicked on the address Gretchen had sent over and used her phone’s GPS to get her there. Thankfully, Monique’s house wasn’t too far away.
She pulled up in front of it and took it all in. The small ranch home itself wasn’t bad, but the monstrosity in her backyard would make anyone do a double take. What was at one time a barn, probably a very nice one, loomed large between some sad looking birch trees. The gray paint was peeling, and the door on the second floor didn’t have a balcony. If someone walked through it, they’d fall thirty feet to patchy grass and a couple of untrimmed bushes.
Sienna’s car was the only one in the driveway, so she assumed Monique wasn’t home from the store yet. She sat in her car for a minute until she heard a faint electric whining coming from the barn out back. It was large enough that Monique could fit her car in there, so it was possible she used it as a garage. Sienna stuck her phone in her pocket and walked through the tall grass toward the old barn.
“Monique?” she called, but there was no answer. The whine continued, so she checked the side door of the barn to see if it was unlocked. It turned easily, so Sienna walked in, calling out for Monique again.
The grille of a pickup truck nearly blocked the entrance. A large, red pickup truck.
Sienna froze for a fraction of a second before turning on her heel to hightail it back to her car.
“Can I help you?” a man with a ponytail asked, walking around the side of the truck. The electric sander was still in his hand. For the first time, Sienna noticed that the back half of the pickup truck was taped and in the process of being painted black.
“I’m sorry, I was actually looking for Monique. I’ll give her a call later.” Sienna plastered an unassuming smile on her face. Or at least she hoped it was.
“Now, hold on. I can give her a message for you,” he said, placing the sander on the hood of the truck. He grabbed a rag from his back pocket and wiped his hands. “Your name?”
Sienna didn’t know if she should say that she was from an insurance company, or if she should give him her name, or just run away. She didn’t have much time to decide. He leered at her, raking his eyes up and down her body.
“Her mother asked me to swing by. It’s no trouble. I’ll come back.” She followed the ponytailed man with her eyes, noticing he stopped near the right front panel, attempting to obscure it. There was a scrape of green paint to the side of the headlight. The same color as Gretchen Kowalski’s Jetta.
Sienna looked up, trying to appear like she hadn’t noticed anything, but it was too late. He saw where she’d been looking. She started to back toward the door.
He grabbed her by the wrist. “I said I’d take a message,” he said through gritted teeth. “Now who the hell are you?”
“I’m her mother’s caregiver,” Sienna said, not wanting him to know she had anything at all to do with law enforcement. “Let me go!” She tried to pull her arm away, but he tightened his grip.
“I’d like to see some identification, maybe. You must have something that’ll tell me who you are,” he said, reaching for her pocket.
Sienna saw an opening and jammed her elbow into his stomach. He immediately let go of her and clutched his stomach.
She ran for the door, grabbing at the wooden frame to fling it open wider. She made her way over the threshold, the afternoon sun greeting her like an old friend.
The momentary feeling of freedom ended when she plowed headlong into Monique Breen, who pushed her back inside the barn. She held a handgun between two shaky hands.
“Monique!” Sienna cried. “It’s me!”
Monique raised her gun and pointed it toward Sienna. Realization dawned and she turned back toward the man, who was smiling arrogantly.
“Dumb bitch,” he muttered, rubbing at the spot where Sienna had elbowed him.
“Why are you here, Charlie?” Monique asked, still pointing the gun in Sienna’s direction. “I told you not to come until the weekend. Now look what you’ve done!”
“Me? If you’d let me finish this earlier, we’d be in Tijuana right now.” He grabbed a wrench from the side table.
Sienna stood slack-jawed, momentarily forgetting the gun pointed at her. This was the man Gretchen had mentioned. “You killed your father? You tried to kill your mother? For money?”
“No!” Monique yelled. “I would never hurt my mother.”
“But Richard?” Sienna asked. “It was you?”
“Just pull the trigger, damn it!” Goodman yelled, standing off to the side. His arms were streaked with black paint.
“Shut up, Charlie! I have to think. We can’t just kill my mother’s social worker. Don’t you think they’ll be looking for her?” Monique shouted.
Sienna just stood there, afraid to move. Monique o
bviously wasn’t comfortable with the pistol she was handling, and Sienna feared that any sudden movement could cause Monique to pull the trigger.
“Monique, you don’t have to do this. Just put the gun down. I’m sure the whole thing was a misunderstanding,” Sienna said, hoping to convince Monique that she wasn’t too far gone.
“Of course she has to do it,” Goodman said. “You know as well as I do that if you walk out that door your first stop will be the cops. And that’s just not going to happen.”
“We could tie her up, Charlie. We could tie her up and drive to Mexico and never look back.” Monique’s voice had taken on a sense of desperation.
“Nope, that’s not going to work either. As of right now, no one knows we were involved. When we leave this one tied up, some hero is going to come and untie her and she’ll spill everything. It makes a lot more sense to cut the loose ends now and take a leisurely drive south instead of being hunted down and chased by a dozen Feds. Hand over the gun. I know you’re squeamish about these things,” Goodman said.
Sienna tried pleading with Monique with her eyes. Obviously, if she was going to get out of this alive, it was through Monique and not Goodman.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Monique shouted, the gun still pointed at Sienna. It was shaking uncontrollably. “Why did you make me do this?”
“You’re your own person, Mo. I didn’t make you do anything.” Charlie folded his arms across his chest. “You brought this whole thing to me. You thought it would be a good idea to ‘expand’ the business off the books, not the other way around. Getting Daddy’s money was the only way we could walk away from this with our heads intact. If it makes you feel better to blame me, go ahead. But that doesn’t change anything. What’s done is done. Give me the gun.”
He took a few steps toward Monique, who turned and pointed the gun at him instead. Goodman raised his hands and stopped in his tracks.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m not the enemy here. She is.” He pointed to Sienna. “And he was. So, we took care of it. We did what anyone else would have done.”
“We shouldn’t have done it, Charlie. I tried to undo it, but it was too late. It wasn’t worth it. When she finds out, she’ll never forgive me. I told you to stay away from her, but you didn’t listen. And now she’ll find out everything,” Monique said. She was hysterical, tears streaking down her cheeks, her eyes wild.
Sienna used their private conversation as an opportunity to assess her situation. She took a tiny step toward the door, gearing up to push Monique into Goodman and escape during the chaos. But Monique turned as soon as Sienna did, and the gun was back in her face.
“Don’t move, damn it!” Monique yelled.
Goodman dove forward and knocked Monique to the ground, sending her flying into Sienna. Sienna’s back exploded with pain as her spine collided with the tool bench. The gun tumbled out of Monique’s hand and landed next to her. Goodman jumped on it, and again the pistol was pointed directly at Sienna.
“I don’t want anyone else to die,” Monique whimpered. She was still curled in the fetal position on the cement floor.
“Well, that’s too bad. If you’d only—”
The garage door flew open, whacking loudly against a metal bucket of wrenches. Goodman whipped around, and came face-to-face with Juliet, whose gun was drawn and aimed directly at him. Celeste plowed in behind her, her firearm pointed at shoulder level.
“Drop the gun to the floor, Goodman!” Juliet demanded, her gun steady and cocked, her voice deadly calm.
“You two.” He chuckled humorlessly. “I should have taken the shot when I had the chance.”
“Drop it or I’ll pull the trigger. I have no problem shooting you, and I suggest you don’t test me.”
“Just drop it, Charlie. It’s over for God’s sake. It’s over,” Monique said, sobbing into the floor.
Goodman’s nostrils flared with rage. “I’m not going out like that, Mo. And neither are you. This isn’t some Bonnie and Clyde bullshit.” He pivoted and aimed the gun at Monique’s back.
“No!” Sienna screamed, but she was interrupted by the deafening crack of a gunshot. She covered her ears with both hands and closed her eyes, bracing for some sort of ricochet.
When she opened her eyes, she was being enveloped into Juliet’s arms. She clung to her, crying and gasping, as Celeste handcuffed Goodman. His shoulder was bleeding onto the cement floor, and he was swearing at her. Juliet had taken her shot before he’d been able to kill Monique, who lay sobbing in the dirt.
“Dispatch, this is Lieutenant Mitchell. We need an ambulance at 310 Quail’s Nest Road. Chief is en route. Please send Officer Leland to the scene,” Juliet said into her shoulder radio. She turned back to Sienna. “Are you okay? What the hell happened?”
Sienna nodded, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “They killed Rich,” she said, her voice barely more than a croak. “How did you know?”
“We found that Morris Bright was getting mail at this address. Morris Bright and Monique Breen are apparently the same person.” Juliet glanced at Monique, who still hadn’t moved.
“You saved me.” Sienna let the tears fall. “He was getting ready to shoot me when you arrived. You saved my life.” She grasped Juliet’s hand, squeezing it tightly.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” Juliet whispered. She squeezed just as tightly to Sienna’s hand.
“I didn’t know he was going to do that to my mother. I never agreed to that. We just needed Rich’s life insurance money to hold off some people who were after us. There was no other way.” Monique sat up and wrapped her arms around her legs.
Juliet scoffed as they heard the sirens approaching. “You killed your stepfather for twenty-five thousand dollars, and you think there was no other way? Really?”
“They would have killed us. I was searching around online and there was a post on a message board, some businessmen looking to use parts from certain cars on other cars and sell some of the parts and make a profit and it sounded like it was too good to pass up,” Monique said. She looked like she was going to pass out.
“So, a chop shop?” Juliet asked. “You thought that was a good idea?”
“I was just tired of this town and tired of being a filing clerk and I told Charlie about the opportunity and he said we’d be fools not to take it. He tried to get Rich involved, but he didn’t want to do it. It worked well for a while, and then it didn’t. And then we got deeper and deeper and had to steal more cars for parts, but we never seemed to get the right things, and Charlie said we could make the money back but we couldn’t, and we had to do something! We tried to tell them that certain parts were mislabeled and that someone had messed with our goods and it was all just a big mistake. They didn’t go for it. Charlie said it was the only way and Rich’s heart wasn’t very good anyway, so it wasn’t like we were really doing anything that wasn’t going to happen soon, and I wish I could take it back. All of it. I tried to stop it. I’m so sorry,” Monique said, swiping at her tears with the arm of her sweater. “My poor mother.”
“How did you get involved with Charlie, anyway?” Celeste asked, cuffing Monique from the front. She’d already put Goodman in the back seat of the patrol car.
“He’s my boyfriend.” Monique looked miserable. “Sort of. We got together after I met him when Rich first went into business with him, but my mother always hated him, and Rich would’ve thought he was beneath me, so I never told them. Keeping it a secret made it more exciting. We’ve stayed apart since this whole thing happened.”
* * *
The EMTs arrived, pulled Charlie from the patrol car, and secured him onto a stretcher. They took Monique as well, since she seemed unable to stand on her own without someone beside her for support. Juliet asked if Sienna wanted to get her back checked out, but she just wanted to go home. Wherever home was these days.
“How are we going to tell Gretchen that her daughter killed her husband? And that her daughter’s boyfriend tr
ied to kill her?” Juliet asked. She continued to hold Sienna’s hand as the ambulance pulled away.
“I don’t know. But if it hadn’t been for Monique, Goodman would have killed me for sure. She tried to stop him, but he wasn’t having it. He wanted me dead,” Sienna said, and a shiver crawled up her spine.
“Maybe she’ll get a few years taken off her life sentence for that,” Juliet said. She put her arm around Sienna and pulled her in close. “When I saw your car parked in the driveway, I panicked. I’d texted you a few times to call me, and when I didn’t get a response, I assumed the worst when we pulled up to the house. I couldn’t imagine…” Juliet shook her head and took a shuddery breath.
“I’m okay,” Sienna said, touching Juliet’s face. The warmth of her cheek felt like heaven. I love you, she thought, but didn’t say. It was too soon and too weird and nothing made sense.
“How scared I was, the emptiness that I felt, the rage that took over. I think it just proves what I already knew. I love you, and I know it’s way too early to say that, and I’m sorry. But there it is.” Juliet looked out at the swarm of first responders that filled Monique’s yard. She couldn’t seem to bring herself to meet Sienna’s eyes.
Sienna’s heart swelled and her stomach lurched. “It is. It’s way too early. But I love you too, and I don’t think that the timing of it really matters to anyone but us. So, we can wait a few months until we say it again, or we can throw caution to the wind and say it whenever we want to.” She turned her head toward Juliet and met her gaze. “I love you.”
Juliet leaned down and kissed her. Sienna was about to stop her, to remind her that there were people around and it would be out there in the universe, and then there would be nothing they could do to stop it. But she didn’t. She kissed her back instead, relishing the soft comfort of Juliet’s lips.
“Okay, lovebirds, we have a crime scene to bag and tag.” Celeste snapped on a pair of gloves. “Sienna should probably sit down with the chief sooner rather than later to go over everything that happened.”
They broke apart and Sienna nodded. The mixture of emotions made her light-headed. The fear had subsided, but the comedown still made her tremble. She smiled at Juliet and sought out Chief Quinlan while Juliet remained in the barn with Celeste and Officer Leland. The twinge in her back didn’t hurt nearly as much as the conversation with Gretchen was going to.
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