by Glen Ebisch
Clarissa got dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen. Mrs. Morgan was puttering around singing softly to herself. Clarissa said good morning. She went to the closet and got her usual breakfast cereal and poured some in a bowl.
“Nothing more substantial this morning?” the woman asked.
“I guess not.”
“Some toast and coffee to go with it?”
“Sounds fine,” Clarissa said, opening the local newspaper.
When she got done perusing the headlines, she noticed that Mrs. Malone was unusually quiet this morning. She glanced up at her. She seemed happy enough, but gave the impression of wanting to speak, but being afraid to do so.
“Is there something wrong, Mrs. Malone?” Clarissa asked.
“It’s not really my place to say anything, but you’ll hear it soon enough anyway. Ashley has got a man friend.”
“I know. She told me.”
Mrs. Malone looked deflated. “I see. What did she tell you about him?”
“What do you mean?”
“I heard from someone who saw them sitting together on the mall that he’s an old man.”
“Hardly old. But he’s a bit older than Ashley.”
Mrs. Malone shook her head. “Her Aunt Mona won’t be happy.”
“Does she already know about it?” asked Clarissa, hoping she could avoid the unpleasant duty of informing her.
“Everyone’s afraid to tell her. She’s pretty strict and has been known to have quite a temper.”
Wonderful, thought Clarissa. “Well, I’d suggest that everyone keep quiet about it until Ashley has a chance to tell Mona in her own way.”
“You know, Mona never married, so she was very devoted to her sister Louise and her family. Louise’s husband, Michael was a wonderful man. They had a son, Stephen, and then Ashley.”
“Didn’t Louise and Michael die together in a car crash?”
“Yes. It was tragic. Ashley was away at college. Stephen is a few years older and was already working as a lawyer in the Washington area. When Ashley graduated she stayed up north and worked there. She only moved down here when Mona started having heart problems.”
“She had a heart attack?” Clarissa asked. She could imagine herself killing the poor woman with her upsetting news.
“No, I think it’s called heart failure. I guess it’s a lot more gradual, but she started to find it hard to do some things for herself. I was surprised that Ashley came down to help her out since she’d never come back to Shore Side after the death of her parents.”
“What about her brother?”
“Haven’t seen or heard about him in years. But I think he’s doing very well for himself. He’s some kind of Congressional aide.”
“So Ashley is taking care of Mona on her own.”
“Well, Mona has friends and people in the congregation to help her out. But I’m sure a lot of it falls on Ashley. I have to say, she’s shown a whole new side of herself to me in the last year or so.”
Clarissa stood up and put her dirty dishes in the dishwasher. “Yes, I think there’s a lot more to her than meets the eye.”
“If only she didn’t insist on dressing up like a witch.”
“It’s what’s inside that matters most, isn’t it?”
“I suppose,” Mrs. Malone admitted grudgingly.
Clarissa walked across to the church office. Ashley was already behind her desk. She turned around quickly when Clarissa entered.
“Have you talked to my aunt?” she asked.
“I’ve got an appointment to speak with her at eleven o’clock.”
“How did she sound?”
“I think she was a bit surprised that I wanted to discuss your job performance, but I reassured her that there was nothing to worry about.”
“I hope she takes the news well. She isn’t in the best of health you know.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll break it to her as gently as possible.”
Clarissa’s phone buzzed and she saw that she had a text. It was Rudinski informing her that they’d picked up Chris Grant and were going to question him in half an hour. Lieutenant Baker had given permission for her to observe. She responded that she’d be there. She then told Ashley about the information she’d gotten last night.
“Sounds like you’ve got your killer,” Ashley said.
“It’s possible. But I’d feel better about it if we knew his motive. Maybe we’ll find out this morning.” She checked her watch. “I’d better get going. I don’t want to be late.”
“Don’t get so engrossed in putting the thumb screws to this guy that you forget your appointment with Aunt Mona. Solving a murder is one thing, but remember this is my life we’re talking about here. It’s important.”
Clarissa smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t forget.”
Walking quickly, Clarissa reached the police station with five minutes to spare. Rudinski immediately took her into an office with a large window that looked into the interrogation room. Clarissa had been in there once before.
“Remember, don’t make a lot of noise. He won’t be able to see you, but the walls aren’t as soundproof as they should be.”
“Where did you catch him?”
“It was no challenge. He was getting ready for work when we knocked on the door of his apartment right here in town. He manages a men’s clothing store on the mall. He’d read the newspaper and knew that Karla had been murdered, so he wasn’t surprised to see us.”
“Why didn’t he come forward before?”
“He was afraid he’d look guilty. I guess he was hoping that no one would remember seeing him with Karla that night.”
“Does he have a lawyer?”
“He claims that he doesn’t need one. He’s done nothing wrong.”
“He should still have one.”
“We informed him of his rights, that’s all we can do.”
Rudinski left her, and a few minutes later a uniformed officer led a man in his late thirties and of average height into the room. He was pretty much average in every way. His hair was light brown and starting to thin. He wasn’t heavy, but starting to thicken around the waist. His face wasn’t strikingly handsome, nor would it be memorably ugly. He was just an average guy wearing a nice cashmere sweater and a pair of chinos, thought Clarissa.
The officer directed him to sit at one end of the table, then stood by the door and watched him. A few minutes later, Lieutenant Baker and Rudinski came into the room, and sat at the opposite end of the table. Everyone was wearing a mask, making it look like a gathering of a crime family.
“Thank you for coming in, Mr. Grant,” Lieutenant Baker said.
Grant nodded. Probably thinking that he didn’t have any choice.
“We’d like you to tell us about the events of last Saturday night when you met with Karla Evanston.”
“I didn’t now her last name was Evanston. We only exchanged first names.”
“So you didn’t know she’d been murdered. Didn’t you see her picture in the paper?” Baker asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“Yeah, alright, I saw the article and I thought she looked familiar. But I didn’t want to get involved. I didn’t kill her.”
“What did the two of you talk about?”
He shrugged. “The usual stuff when you first meet in a bar. She told me she was an accountant and worked as the chief financial officer for some company. I told her I ran a men’s clothing store, and we talked about men’s fashions for a bit.”
“What about more personal information?”
“I told her that I’d been divorced for five years, and she said that she was in the process of getting one.”
“What did she tell you about her husband?”
“That he sold cars, and that he’d cheated on her. She was still pretty hot about that last part. Oh, and she said that she’d just seen her husband that night. Karla thought that he was stalking her and had called him on it. I guess they had a fight.”
&
nbsp; “Did she seem afraid of him?” asked Baker.
Grant paused to give the question some thought. “No, I’d say she thought he was kind of pathetic following her around everywhere. She said, ‘That’s what always happens with men you think you can trust. They turn out to be pathetic and dishonest.’ She was pretty bitter.”
“A bitter angry woman, but you kept talking to her.”
“She was kind of cute,” Grant said with a blush.
“Okay, so you talked for how long?”
“An hour and a half, maybe two. I guess we left the bar at about eleven-thirty. I wanted to leave sooner. To tell the truth, the Nirvana is kind of dank.”
“But she wouldn’t go?”
“She said that someone was supposed to meet her there. A guy named Dan that she’d met through some dating site.”
“Did she tell you any more about him?”
“She said something about him owning his own IT company. I got the impression that he was real good looking, according to the picture he’d posted. I told her you couldn’t believe everything you saw on the internet.”
“What did she say to that?”
“She said that I was just jealous. To be honest, I guess I got a little ticked that she was more interested in some guy she’d never met than she was in a real live guy sitting right in front of her. She kept looking around the room like she couldn’t wait for this Dan to walk in and make her night.”
“That must have made you angry.”
“More just annoyed. Finally I said that I was going to go. I expected her to say that she was going to hang around and wait for Dan. But she surprised me by saying she’d leave with me. When we got outside, I told her my car was at the corner, and I’d give her a ride back to her condo. I think she actually considered it for a moment. But just as I was getting my hopes up, she said she’d walk back to where she was staying. All she did was say goodbye and walk away. Not even a kiss on the cheek or a hug. I thought it was kind of cold.”
“What did you do after that?” asked Baker.
“I got in my car and drove home.”
“You must have been pretty disappointed, what with buying her drinks and wasting a couple of hours.”
He grinned ruefully. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Lieutenant Baker sat back in his chair and gazed across the room. “Are you sure that you didn’t give her a ride home, only to have her blow you off at the front door? Maybe you were so furious that you forced her inside, had a fight with her, and stabbed her with a kitchen knife.”
Grant held up his hands in front of him. “Hang on there, Chief. I’m not that kind of guy. Even my ex will tell you that I never get violent. Sure, she was annoying, but the last I saw of her she was walking away from me down a dark street at almost midnight. Anything could’ve happened to her after she left me.”
Clarissa had to admit that he made a persuasive point.
Grant got to his feet. “Are you going to arrest me or am I free to go?” he said in a trembling voice.
“You can go, but we need a set of your fingerprints for elimination purposes. Will you do that for us?”
The man took a deep breath and seemed to relax. “Sure, I can do that.”
The uniformed officer led him from the room. Rudinski and Baker left the interview room a minute later. The door to the room Clarissa was in opened, and Rudinski motioned for her to follow him. She walked behind him down the hall and into Baker’s office. The Lieutenant was already seated behind his desk.
“So what did you make of that?” he asked, speaking to no one in particular.
“He could have taken her back to the condo and then killed her like you suggested,” Rudinski said.
“We’ll see if we find his prints there. Of course, today every criminal who watches television knows not to leave prints.”
“Still, if he was in a frenzy, he may have missed something,” Rudinski said.
“Maybe he was telling the truth,” said Clarissa. “Too bad George isn’t still alive. If he was stalking Karla as we think, he’d know what happened.”
“But if he knew Grant did it, why wouldn’t he have come to the police with the information?” asked Baker. “If he loved Karla so much, you’d think he’d want her killer apprehended.”
“Karla’s sister Rhonda thinks he was trying to blackmail the killer.”
“Chris Grant manages a small clothing store. How much money can you get out of him?” the Lieutenant said.
“So let’s assume Grant’s telling the truth,” Clarissa said. “Then who did kill Karla? It wasn’t George because we think the same killer stabbed him to death.”
“Okay. So she walks home by herself. Let’s say some guy who saw her at the bar other than Chris follows her home and attacks her. George sees the whole thing. What does he do?” asked Rudinski.
“According to Rhonda Rizzo, he follows the guy back to his place, somehow finds out his name, and blackmails him. They agree to meet and George is murdered as well,” said the Lieutenant.
“Sounds awfully complicated,” said Rudinski.
“And Rhonda doubted that George had the nerve to blackmail some crazed killer,” Clarissa added.
“Not many people would,” said the Lieutenant. “Unless George was incredibly stupid, he’d know blackmailing some hard guy would end badly.”
“If it was some guy who just happened to follow her home, we’re probably never going to solve this. Random murderers are the toughest to catch,” Rudinski said somberly.
Everyone sat without speaking for a moment, and then Clarissa said, “What about Dan?”
“Dan the no-show. He wasn’t even there,” said Rudinski.
Clarissa shook her head. “All we know is that he wasn’t in the bar or Karla would have recognized him.”
“We don’t even know that much,” Baker pointed out. “He could have been in the bar, but wearing a disguise. Or, better yet, maybe he sent phony pictures to the dating site, so she wouldn’t recognize him. Then he could have been spying on her out in the open all evening.”
“That makes him sound like some kind of sociopath, who planned to kill her all along just for fun,” said Rudinski.
“It happens. Not as much as you’d think from books and the movies, but there are plenty of genuine sociopaths out there,” said Baker. He turned to Clarissa. “By now you’re almost like a sister to Rhonda and Cheryl. Why don’t you get in touch with them and see if they know what dating site their sister was using. Maybe we can get these matchmakers to tell us the name of this guy Karla communicated with online.”
“Won’t they cite privacy concerns?” asked Clarissa.
Baker shrugged. “Maybe not, since the woman is dead. It’s worth a try.”
“Okay, I’ll see if they know.”
She checked her watch. “I’ve got another meeting I have to get to. Thanks for letting me observe the questioning.”
Baker nodded and gave her a small smile.. “Since there seems to be no way to keep you out of this case, we may as well take advantage of your insights.”
“I have insights?” Clarissa said with a grin.
“Let’s call them lucky guesses,” Baker replied.
Chapter 22
As Clarissa walked to Aunt Mona’s, there was an idea buzzing around in the back of her mind. Something that Chris Grant had said which had struck a chord, but for the life of her, she couldn’t quite pin it down. She thought the conversation with Lieutenant Baker had helped to clarify things, but without Karla’s phone or computer, they were pretty much at the end of the road. They had to find out who Dan was, even if only to eliminate him as a possibility.
Clarissa stopped in front of the medium-sized Victorian where Mona lived. It was probably worth a cool million today, being in the heart of Shore Side. An investor would be happy to pay that and put another quarter of a million into renovations in order to set it up as a commercial enterprise. Clarissa knew that Mona had been living there for over forty years, s
o it had probably tripled or quadrupled in value since she purchased it. A home could be a good investment, but as Clarissa knew from her visits with members of the congregation, very few older people wanted to move. A home might be a good investment, but it was not a very liquid one.
She went up on the porch and rang the bell, and a few seconds later, Mona opened the door. She had plump cheeks that stuck out on either side of her mask and was rather plump all the way down. She smiled and her cheeks glowed, either due to good cheer or high blood pressure. Knowing her condition, Clarissa guessed that a bit less plumpness would probably make her doctor happier.
“Please come in, Pastor,” Mona said. “Why don’t we go into the living room? I’ve got everything set up there.”
Wondering what exactly that meant, Clarissa followed her into a spacious parlor. A large sofa and three thickly upholstered chairs occupied the center of the room with a large coffee table front of them. On the coffee table was a tea service and plates holding a variety of pastries and cakes.
“Oh, my,” Clarissa said, hoping she’d adequately disguised the dismay in her voice.
Taking her exclamation for one of pleasure, Mona beamed, “There’s nothing like tea and something sweet to prime the appetite for lunch, is there?”
Clarissa smiled weakly.
“Sit down,” Mona said, indicating a wing chair. “I’ll pour. Please help yourself to whatever you’d like. Don’t be shy.”
Clarissa took a small scone and some butter. When she tried to sit back down, Mona pressed her to try a small piece of the angel cake and a cocoanut square. By the time she returned to her chair, Clarissa was certain that the plate held all the calories she should have in a day and enough sugar for her to start acting out.
After she’d sipped her tea and properly complimented Mona on the various sweets, the woman’s expression suddenly changed from merry to stern.
“You wanted to talk to me about Ashley. What has that young lady been up to now?”
Clarissa coughed. “I wanted to give you a progress report on how she’s doing on the job.”
“I doubt that,” Mona snapped. “I’m sure your time is too valuable to spend it on something that could have been handled with a note or a quick phone call. This is something more important or more delicate than any progress report.”