Francine Eberhardt lived next door to the Starks’ oceanfront mansion. Jess had visited the Stark home the day before to walk through the crime scene with the head of the forensics team. The team was behind schedule, delayed by the storm and short of resources, and they had little of interest to report. As she and Mike drove past on their way to interview the witness, Jess was not happy to see the house shuttered and the police van gone.
“Where are they?” she said. “Vernon Mays is all over me to get the evidence together. It’s only three o’clock. How do they expect to make this case if they don’t put in the time?”
Mike was scrolling through his phone. “I got a text. They were called away to the beach. The tide went out, and they made it to that cave. They found something.”
“Oh, thank God. The body.”
“Nope.”
“No? What did they find, then?”
“A blanket and a man’s jacket, both soaked in blood, wedged behind a large boulder. It’s possible that the body was there and got swept out to sea with a strong storm surge. But it’s not there now.”
“Crap. This case is getting worse by the minute,” Jess said.
“They sent the items to the lab to be tested. But they took photos. We’re supposed to show the pictures to Caroline Stark right away and ask if they belonged to her husband.”
“Too bad we can’t find her. Goddamn it.”
Jess slammed the heel of her hand against the steering wheel, which made her hand hurt and didn’t make her mood any brighter. Mike raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “This witness better be good. She’s taking time we could be spending looking for Caroline.”
They pulled into Francine Eberhardt’s driveway. The little house looked like it had taken a serious hit from the storm. The glass was gone from several windows, replaced by cardboard. The shutters hung askew, and most of the trees on the small property were twisted and mangled. An enormous tree branch lay across the small patch of lawn. A white-haired woman in jeans and muddy wellies stood over the downed branch with a chain saw. As Jess watched, she pulled the chain, making an earsplitting sound.
“That’s her, I take it?” Jess said, raising her voice to be heard over the ruckus.
“Yup. Don’t get in her way while she’s holding that thing.”
They got out of the car. Mike introduced Jess to Francine Eberhardt, who put down her chain saw to shake hands. Francine looked to be in her late seventies or early eighties, but she had a killer grip and an impatient manner that made Jess think she’d be a handful as a witness—or as a neighbor.
“Michael offered to help clear this debris. That’s the only reason I agreed to speak with you,” Francine said.
Jess raised an eyebrow at Castro. “I see. Thank you, Michael,” she said.
“Landscapers these days. It’s highway robbery. They think everybody is a weekender and made of money. Well, I refuse to pay. Still, it’s a lot for me to handle alone at my age, so when Michael offered, I figured it was worth my time to tell you what I saw the other night.”
“We appreciate that. I’m glad we had something of value to offer you.”
Castro winked at Jess behind the old lady’s back as they went inside.
The kitchen was cramped but cozy, with an old-fashioned gas range and a woodstove. A decrepit Chihuahua lay on a bed in the corner. He poked his head up and gave several high-pitched yaps.
“Don’t mind him,” Francine said. “When they say all bark and no bite, they’re talking about Bandit.”
They sat down at the small wooden table. Mrs. Eberhardt folded her hands and looked at them with a long-suffering expression. Jess took out her phone and placed it on the table in front of them.
“If you don’t mind—”
“Oh, I mind. You can take notes if you like, but I don’t like a microphone in my face.”
“Of course. Whatever you prefer, ma’am.”
Jess nodded at Mike, who took out a notebook and pen.
“How well did you know your neighbors?” Jess asked, to get the conversation going.
But she needn’t have worried. For someone who resisted being interviewed, once she got started, Francine Eberhardt had plenty to say.
“Her, I saw all the time. Not socially, mind you. She’s got her nose in the air, and I’m not good enough for her kind. But Jason Stark? Never. I saw his picture in the paper this morning in the article about Aidan Callahan’s arrest, and that’s the first time I ever saw his face. He was never here. I can see their driveway quite clearly from my bedroom window, so I know who comes and goes. He might have been here for that big party. I wouldn’t know, because I don’t know his car. She invited me, Caroline did. But it was just for show. I could tell she didn’t really want me there, so I didn’t go. It says something that she invited me, don’t you think? How careful she is not to offend anyone, or raise suspicion?”
“Maybe she’s polite,” Jess said.
“Hmmph. I doubt it. Caroline Stark has something to hide.”
“Okay. I’ll bite. What is she hiding?”
“She was having marriage troubles, which is obvious from the fact that the husband was never here. And, she was having an affair with Aidan Callahan.”
“Yes, ma’am, we know that. She told us herself. She’s not trying to hide that.”
“Well, then, she’s hiding something else. Those two deserve each other. Aidan’s been a devil since he was a boy.”
“You know him?” Jess said.
“Of course. His grandparents lived next door. They owned the land that the Starks’ house sits on now.”
Jess looked at Mike sharply. “Did you know that?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. It didn’t seem significant.”
“I’d say it’s significant. It could be a motive. Maybe he held a grudge against the Starks for tearing down Grandpa’s house. What do you think about that theory, Mrs. Eberhardt?”
“If that’s a motive for murder, every weekender in this town would be dead. I’m not saying Aidan wasn’t obsessed with that monstrosity next door. He’d walk by and stare at it all the time. But more like he wanted it for himself than he wished it had never been built. He broke into it, too.”
“Broke into Caroline’s house? You mean, on the night of the murder?”
“Then. And there was another night a while back that I saw him sneaking around and then the alarm went off.”
“But you definitely saw him break in on the night of the murder?”
“Yes. How many times do I have to say it?”
“I want to be clear. That is extremely important evidence. I want to make sure we understand you correctly.”
“Yes. I saw Aidan Callahan break into Caroline Stark’s house on the night of the murder.”
“What time was it that Callahan broke in, Mrs. Eberhardt?” Mike asked.
“Around six o’clock.”
“Six A.M. or P.M.?” Jess asked.
“P.M.”
“But—are you sure?” Jess said. “We put the murder as taking place in the early hours of the morning, maybe two or three A.M.”
“Put the murder wherever you like. Aidan broke in around six P.M. I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t sure. I had just looked at the clock because I wanted to wait till the last possible minute to let Bandit out before the weather made it impossible. I took him right out in front of my house and saw Aidan’s truck in her driveway. A couple of minutes later, the alarm went off.”
“Okay. Caroline did say that her alarm went off earlier in the evening, and you called her about it. But she said it was only the wind.”
“Well, you can’t believe anything she says,” Francine said, as if that were obvious.
It wasn’t obvious. Jess did believe what Caroline had told her. Francine Eberhardt obviously disliked her wealthy, beautiful neighbor enough to discredit anything she said.
“You saw Aidan’s truck, but you didn’t see Aidan?” Jess asked.
“I’m getting to that. I saw his truck, very clearly. No mistake about it. He drives this beat-up old thing, bright red, with a big dent in the door. And I saw him. But not then. A little later. Normally, you know, alarms go off and they get shut down right away. Well, hers must be defective, because it wouldn’t shut up. I called her to complain, and I said if she didn’t do something about it, we’d have trouble. She must have called the police. Because, not long after my call to her, Tommy Callahan drove up in his police cruiser.”
“Chief Callahan? Really?”
“Yes, really. My gosh, you people ask me questions, then you act like you don’t believe the answers.”
Jess and Mike exchanged glances. They both knew there was no record of Chief Callahan visiting the Stark residence that night, nor of any other Glenhampton officer doing so, for that matter. It was starting to look like Francine might not be reliable.
“I’m sorry. We’re very interested in your answers. What did Chief Callahan do when he got there?” Jess asked.
“He went inside and hauled Aidan out by the scruff of the neck. The two of them went at it. Blows were exchanged. Then they both left.”
“The chief left? And Aidan left?”
“Yes, that’s what I said. And they left the alarm going, too. I couldn’t believe it. At least turn the alarm off.”
Jess and Mike looked at one another, openmouthed. Francine Eberhardt’s information, if it was true, amounted to Chief Callahan covering up a felony. They’d reviewed the official GPD logs for that night with great care, to match them up to Caroline’s testimony. After Caroline’s phone call to the police, the dispatcher radioed for any patrol officer in the vicinity to respond to the alarm at the Stark residence. According to the official record, nobody responded, presumably because they were too busy dealing with the storm. If Tommy Callahan had actually shown up, found his brother in the Starks’ house, and not reported it, that was a cover-up. It was also a crime. Jess could tell from Mike’s face that he was as shocked by this as she was.
Mike shook his head, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Aidan left? Did he come back at any point?” he asked, trying to change the subject.
“Yes, he came back,” Francine said. “I’m not sure when. I put in earplugs and went to bed. Hours later, I woke up to go to the bathroom, and I took the earplugs out. I don’t like to sleep with earplugs in, generally. I find them quite uncomfortable, but between that infernal alarm and the noise from the storm—”
“Please, Mrs. Eberhardt, what did you see?” Jess said.
“It was what I heard that made me sit up and take notice.”
“What did you hear?”
“Nothing. Dead quiet. It was as if the storm just left. The quiet was so strange that I went to the window and looked out, and then I realized, we were in the eye. The moon was out, and there was enough light to see clearly. Aidan’s truck was there. He’d left in it, hours before, and now it was back.”
“Did you see anything other than the truck?”
“Yes. There were two other vehicles. That big tacky SUV she has. That monster must get terrible gas mileage. And a fancy, foreign-looking car. I don’t know what brand. I saw the three vehicles, clear as day, as the eye passed. And then, within seconds, the storm was back, worse than ever, and I could barely see a thing. It was like staring into a whirlwind.”
“Huh. So, you never saw Aidan himself?”
“I saw three people. One of them was probably Aidan, but I can’t be sure.”
“What? Three people? When was this?”
“A couple of minutes after the eye passed. I was still at the window, only now, the rain was torrential. And I saw three people walking to Aidan’s truck. Well, two were walking. The third was being dragged.”
“What do you mean, being dragged?”
“The two upright ones had somebody in between them, and they were dragging him by the arms. The person in the middle couldn’t walk. His head was down, he was limp. He seemed to be unconscious.”
“You say he. It was a man?” Mike asked.
“Hmm. I could see their forms, their shapes. I have the impression it was a man, with a man and a woman dragging him. But I can’t be sure.”
“Do you have an impression of who they were?”
“That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, isn’t it? The rain was so heavy, I couldn’t make them out. But if I was a betting woman, I’d put money on that being Aidan Callahan and Caroline Stark dragging her husband’s body. Wouldn’t you?”
“Why didn’t you tell anybody about this before now?” Jess asked.
“Who should I tell? The police? It’s the police chief’s brother we’re talking about. They already think I’m nuts down at the station. Except for Michael. Michael, I trust.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Much appreciated. I’ll be back here bright and early Saturday morning, as promised, to handle your yard work.”
Jess thanked Mrs. Eberhardt and said goodbye. She was lost in thought as they walked back to the car, pondering Francine’s account of seeing three people walking to Aidan’s truck. It didn’t add up with what Caroline had told them about the murder, that much was certain.
They got in the car. Troubled, Jess turned to Mike.
“She’s got to be wrong. She didn’t see what she thought she saw. She’s old. It was dark. The storm obscured her view.”
“You don’t like what you heard. I don’t like it either, but I don’t doubt her. She was very clear about what she saw. And when she didn’t see something or couldn’t answer, she admitted that. I think in your heart you believe her, but you’re worried about what it means for the case. I say let the chips fall where they may.”
“I’ll take you at your word on that. Because, you know, there’s another possibility for who the third person was.”
“What’s that?”
“Maybe Caroline Stark was pistol-whipped and unconscious inside the house, like she said. And maybe that was Tommy Callahan helping his brother dispose of Jason Stark’s body.”
Mike looked at her like she was crazy. “Where do you get that? She said the third person was a woman.”
“She said she couldn’t see.”
“She could see shapes. A woman has a different shape than a man.”
“Now you’re the one interpreting the facts the way you want. Which scenario is more likely? Think about it, Mike. Francine saw Tommy pull Aidan out of the house after burglarizing it. She saw him let Aidan go. He let Aidan go years ago, on that manslaughter. He’ll do anything to protect his kid brother.”
“No way. Tommy Callahan would never cover up a murder. Not in a million years.”
“Why not? He covered up the burglary. You believe that part, don’t you?”
“Burglary is a whole different animal, especially since, as far as we know, Aidan didn’t steal anything. I’m not saying it’s okay, but that was their family’s land. Aidan had a thing about that place since he was a kid. Tommy yanked his kid brother out of the house, read him the riot act, and decided not to turn him in. That’s wrong. I think we should report it to higher authorities. But it doesn’t mean he would cover up murder or, God forbid, help dispose of a body. I know the chief. He wouldn’t do that, period. Besides, there’s clear corroborating evidence to prove who the third person is. Francine already gave it to us. You just don’t realize it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Follow the cars. Earlier that night, Francine saw Aidan’s truck. The alarm went off. Then a little while later, she saw Tommy’s cruiser. Tommy parked right in the driveway. He didn’t hide. Two cars, two people. Aidan and Tommy arrive in their own vehicles, they leave in their own vehicles. You with me so far?”
“Okay.”
“Later, in the middle of the night, Francine gets up to pee, looks out, and sees three vehicles. Aidan’s truck. Caroline’s Escalade. And Jason Stark’s Mercedes. She didn’t see Tommy’s cruiser, or she would’ve said so. Then she sees three people—two walking, one being dragged to the truck, presumably unconscious or dead. Three cars. Three people. The people correspond to the vehicles. Aidan Callahan. Jason Stark. And Caroline Stark. Caroline Stark is the third person. She helped Aidan Callahan murder her husband.”
Jess crossed her arms. “No way. Caroline is an innocent victim. Tommy Callahan was the third man. But you don’t want to believe that your chief is corrupt.”
“You don’t want to believe that your eyewitness is a liar.”
They glared at each other, at an impasse.