CHAPTER THREE
Marco and I had just finished supper that evening and were sitting at the table having a glass of wine when the doorbell rang. Marco went to answer it and I heard, “Come on in.”
“Sorry to bother you at dinner time.”
“No problem, Sean. You know you’re always welcome.”
Sean Reilly, dressed in a casual button-down shirt and tan pants, followed Marco into the dining area off the kitchen, looking as down in the mouth as I’d ever seen him. His thick jawline had the inkling of a five o’ clock shadow and the worries lines around his forehead sunk deep into his skin. For a man who had recently proposed to the woman of his dreams, it was shocking to see him so distressed.
“Hi, Reilly. Have a seat,” I said. “Would you like some coffee or a glass of wine?”
“No, thanks,” he said, settling his big frame onto a chair at the kitchen table.
“Whiskey?” Marco offered.
“I don’t think my stomach could handle it.” Reilly took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m in some pretty hot water and I need your help.”
Marco sat down across from Reilly, “Anything you need, just ask.”
Reilly gave Marco a nod. “Thank you. I don’t want to involve you in a personal matter, but the truth is, my hands are tied and there’s no one else I can turn to.”
Reilly very seldom spoke of his personal life. It was only last week when he finally stopped by Down The Hatch to break the news to Marco about his engagement.
Marco leaned forward. “What’s going on, Sean?”
“Let me start at the beginning.”
He filled Marco in on all the details of the murder just as I remembered them and then said, “Before I left the Rafferty home, I went back to Detective Arno with the information my men had gathered. He said he was already on top of it and made it perfectly clear that I should butt out. So I calmly reminded him who was in charge and that I was going to have to speak with the captain before handing over the investigation.
“When I got back to the station, I spoke with Captain Fontaine about Arno’s behavior but he brushed it off. Shortly after that, one of my men saw Arno going into the captain’s office. Next thing I knew, I was being chewed out by Fontaine for jeopardizing Arno’s investigation, and assigned to desk duty.
“That was yesterday,” Reilly continued. “Then today, because of MacKay’s article in The New Chapel News, I was called back into the captain’s office and threatened with administrative leave because I’d leaked information to the press, once again jeopardizing the case.”
I wanted to slink down into my chair. I should’ve stopped Connor from eavesdropping on that conversation. But I hadn’t because I was listening, too.
“Arno is blaming me for the DA’s reluctance to hold Slade Rafferty without bond. Because I was supposedly quoted as saying Mrs. Rafferty was a victim of an apparent robbery/homicide, there wasn’t enough evidence to indict. Of course, Fontaine agreed with Arno and now I’m one wrong move away from administrative leave.”
“I’ll vouch for you, Reilly.” And I was going to wring Connor’s neck for what he wrote. “I know you didn’t leak any information. I’ll go to the chief of police if I have to.”
“Don’t do that,” Reilly said. “Arno’s arrest record is the only reason the chief still has a job.” Reilly dropped his head into his hands and pulled his fingers through his hair.
“What do you want us to do?” I asked.
“I have information,” Sean started. “My men found several suspicious items that Arno didn’t even look at. These leads need to be investigated, but I can’t go anywhere near this and I can’t instruct my officers to either.”
Marco rose from the table and grabbed his empty wine glass. “You’ve come to the right place.”
“But this has to be done very quietly,” Sean said, causing Marco to pause. “If Arno gets wind of a separate investigation he’ll link it to me and I’ll lose my job. I’ll be done.”
“We can be quiet,” Marco said on his way to the kitchen. “Can’t we, Sunshine?”
Three things I knew: I was partially responsible for Reilly’s predicament; he was an honest police officer who didn’t deserve to lose his career; and I would do whatever it took to help save it. I leaned in closer to Reilly and whispered, “Quite as a mouse.”
Smiling for the first time that evening, Reilly said with a firm voice, “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You’ve helped us many times over,” Marco said, returning to the table with a fresh glass of Merlot and a glass of water for Reilly. “There’s no need to thank us.”
“Let’s get started,” I said eagerly. “What information did your men find?”
Reilly held the glass of water in his hands and stared at it while he relayed the information. “The Rafferty’s back yard is enclosed by a large wooden gate. There was no lock on the gate, which I find very strange, and it was left wide open. Beyond the gate is a service road that runs along the back yards of all those fancy homes. On the side of the road they found several small diamonds scattered on the ground. They were right next to the tire tracks where the suspect presumably peeled away.”
“I heard tires squealing after I knocked on the Rafferty’s front door,” I said. “Those diamonds must be related to the murder.”
“Possibly,” Reilly said, “but there’s more puzzle pieces that don’t fit. The side window by the front door was smashed and the door was open. My officers also found a paper grocery bag full of apples in the bushes next to the gate enclosing the backyard, but the gate was locked from the inside.”
“A bag full of apples,” I repeated.
“Apples,” Reilly said again. “So we have a crime scene with two possible points of entry; one in the front and one in the back. Now, Arno wants this case closed quickly. He’s sticking to the murder theory and he’s going after Mr. Rafferty in full force.”
“Isn’t that normal?” Marco asked.
“Questioning the spouse first is normal procedure, yes, but it’s more complicated than that,” Reilly said. “Arno has positioned himself perfectly. Either Rafferty goes down for this murder or I go down for jeopardizing the case. Either way Arno wins.”
“What’s the deal with you two?” I probed. “Why all the animosity?”
“It’s a long story. I won’t bore you with the politics but let me assure you that Arno would be more than happy to see me leave the force. That’s why I need you to solve this case before he does.”
“Let’s say for a moment that Rafferty did kill his wife,” Marco said. “What then?”
“If he’s guilty then all of this goes away,” Reilly said. “My desk duty will expire and I’ll be back to work, but I don’t think Rafferty did it. I had a strange feeling about that crime scene. Something’s not right.”
“I had that same feeling.” I pulled out my cell phone. “Let me show you some photos I took. There’s something off but I can’t figure out what it is.”
“How did you get photos?” Reilly asked.
I paused to take a sip of wine.
“You never listen,” Reilly said, normally giving me a stern glare, but this time he just shook his head playfully. “Let’s take a look.”
I grabbed my laptop from the kitchen counter, transferred the photos from my phone to the computer and pulled them up. I swiveled the screen to show Marco and Reilly. They took their time scrolling and studying the digital photos.
Marco stopped and enlarged one of images. “Look at her left hand. She’s wearing a diamond wrist watch.”
“That’s it!” I exclaimed, suddenly realizing what I hadn’t noticed this whole time.
“The watch?” Reilly asked.
“No,” I said. “Her wedding ring is missing.”
Reilly squinted at the pixelated image. “Why would the killer take the ring but leave the watch?”
“Maybe he ran out of time,” Marco interjected with a wry smile.
“Seriously,” I said. “Do you think the diamonds found in the road could be from her ring?”
“It’s possible,” Reilly answered. “See if you can find out what kind of ring Paige wore.”
I made a mental note and moved on. “Here’s the other thing I noticed,” I said, pointing to the coffee mug near her right hand. “Look at this shot of the kitchen counter behind her. See the mug stand? Two mugs are gone but only one is on the table. Could she have been having coffee with someone who then attacked her?”
“That’s making quite a leap, Sunshine,” Marco said. “Maybe her husband used the mug that morning and stuck it in the dishwasher.”
“Marco,” I replied, “when was the last time you put your mug in the dishwasher before we left for work?”
Marco responded by not responding.
Reilly tapped his temple. “Abby might be onto something here. There was a fresh aroma of coffee in the air and one of the kitchen chairs had been pulled out next to Paige. The coffee mug could be an important piece of evidence.” He leaned back, stretching out his legs, the confident Sergeant I remembered starting to come forth. “I’d recommend you two canvass the neighborhood, find out if anyone stopped by for coffee or saw anything unusual. That’s what I’d have had my men do.”
Turning to Reilly I asked, “I know it’s a crime scene but is there any way we can get into the house to take a look around, maybe see what’s inside the dishwasher?”
“Not until the detectives finish with it,” Reilly said. “But I’m sure forensics would’ve confiscated the mug already. I suggest you pay a visit to Mr. Rafferty. He had a bond hearing this morning and was released this afternoon. Find out as much as you can while he’s free but keep your eye out for Arno. We don’t want any more trouble.”
As we scrolled through the photos, Marco pointed to something I hadn’t noticed. “See the shattered side light on the front door? If someone had smashed in the glass to unlock the door, the glass would be on the inside not the outside.”
Reilly agreed. “And the door was unlocked. So Arno could be right. It seems as though someone wanted us to think it was a robbery first and a murder after the fact.”
“But I arrived and interrupted the killer before he could finish staging the robbery,” I said and closed my laptop.
Marco tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Whoever killed Paige must have fled through the back door where the car was already waiting, which indicates premeditation. But if the killer didn’t break in, then Paige either invited the person inside or was forced to do so.”
“You’re on the right track,” Reilly explained. “It seems to me like she had invited this person inside willingly.”
“Then Paige must have known the person who murdered her,” I said.
“There weren’t any obvious signs of a struggle,” Reilly added. “It’s almost as if the killer walked up right behind her and grabbed her around the throat.” He strangled his glass of water for effect.
“We have to figure out who Paige would feel comfortable letting in her house and possibly even having coffee with.” Marco looked at me. “We’ll need to speak with Mr. Rafferty about that.”
“That’s what I would do,” Sean said, brimming with confidence for the first time that evening.
“So we question Slade Rafferty, find out what kind of ring Paige wore, and canvass the neighborhood,” I said. “Anything else?”
“You could figure out why a whole bag of apples were tossed in the bushes,” Reilly said.
“We’re on it, Sean,” Marco concluded, standing up. “I’m going to get Abby a refill. Want some more water?”
Reilly also got up with a groan, rubbing his neck. “No thanks. I’ve got to get home and try to relax. If you find out anything, please call me, day or night. And Abby, I never thought I’d be saying this, but thank God you don’t listen to me or we wouldn’t have those photos.”
“You’re welcome,” I said with a smile.
Before he walked out the door, Reilly turned to us, “I did have one other thought on the way over here.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“I could just drop the case, look the other way, let my desk duty expire and return to work. It would be a whole heck of a lot easier.”
“You could,” Marco said. “But you didn’t join the force because it was easy.”
“No, but if I get put on administrative leave it would ruin my career. I don’t know what else I would do. How could I start a family?”
“Have you told Marie yet?”
“How can I tell my fiancé that I might lose my job?”
“You won’t lose your job, Sean,” I stated firmly. “Team Salvare is on the case.”
Reilly didn’t say a word. He looked at both of us with a proud expression and, for the first time ever, I noticed a film of tears forming over his eyes. He nodded and slowly turned around to head for his car.
“Okay, Sunshine,” Marco, said, locking the door. He grabbed the wine from the kitchen island. “Let’s figure out our game plan for tomorrow.”
I watched Marco top off my glass with the last few drops of wine from the bottle. “We should probably walk around the neighborhood tomorrow evening after dinner. That was about the same time I was making my delivery.”
“And I’ll see if I can reach Slade to set up a meeting,” Marco said as he leaned down and gave me a kiss, slipping his hands around my waist. “Now, about our game plan for tonight.”
I finished my wine in one gulp.