CHAPTER 13

 

Alan made a beeline for the medicine cabinet and downed two ibuprofens. He had a headache from hell.

While waiting for the coffee to brew, he couldn’t help but admit that Amanda Linville was growing on him. They had done little more than drink, talk and listen to music last night but he had thoroughly enjoyed himself. The girl was bright, witty and incredibly easy to talk to. The fact that she was also beautiful didn’t hurt either.

The amazing thing was that he hadn’t stayed the night. Instead of hopping into bed with her he simply bade her goodnight and spent the next fifteen minutes trying to keep from weaving on the drive home. She was holding back just as he was—neither of them ready to take their budding relationship any further at this time.

Which was fine with him.

He fed Pan and took his coffee into the family room. With his head feeling like it might split open, he sat down in the recliner and simply stared blankly at the ceiling for several moments, waiting for the painkillers and coffee to clear his head.

When he felt a little better he got up and booted up the iMac. He went to Google and typed “Rebecca Landry” into the search field. One by one he read the results until he spotted a listing that showed her as a member of the staff at UrbanGroup. The page that came up had been posted over a year ago.

Disappointed that nothing promising was showing up, he decided to give Charlie Ling a call. Charlie was his techno-geek friend and associate who had helped him before on more than a few cases. If anyone on God’s green earth could tell him where to find Rebecca Landry, it would be Charlie Ling.

“Hey old friend,” the computer wiz greeted.

“How are ya, Charlie?”

“Good. What have you been up to?”

“Working on a case and I need some help. I’m trying to locate a Rebecca Landry and not having much luck. Wondering if you could give me a hand.”

“No problem but I’ll have to get back to you later. I’m on my way to an appointment that’s going to keep me grounded for at least an hour or so.”

“That’s fine—no real hurry. Let me know when you get something, okay?”

“Sure. I need a little more info though. There’s probably a couple thousand Rebecca Landrys out there.”

“Oh, sure. She used to work at UrbanGroup Financial here in town. Worked at the place up until around last June and then quit. Is that enough to get you started?”

“Should be. I’ll get back to you later on.”

“Thanks, Charlie.”

Alan clicked off and located the number for UrbanGroup. He was put on hold, presumably so that McPherson could decide whether or not to take a call from him. A few moments later he was put through.

“This is Travis McPherson.”

“Hello Mr. McPherson—Alan Swansea. Sorry to bother you but I was wondering if I might come by and ask you a couple more questions some time today.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible, Mr. Swansea. We are having a very important conference this morning and I’m seeing clients this afternoon. Is it something that we could discuss over the phone?”

“I’d prefer not to,” Alan replied.

“Then it will have to wait until later in the week.”

Alan did not want to wait that long.

“Very well, I guess the phone will have to do. There has been a recent development in the case that I think you should know about. We have a witness stating that he saw a newer model black Lexus sedan pick up Chloe from school on the day she was abducted.”

“That’s good news then, isn’t it? Now all you have to do is find out who the car belonged to.”

Perfect reaction, Alan thought.

“Unfortunately the man didn’t see the driver or get a plate number. But what is interesting is that Chloe willingly walked up to this car and got inside.”

“That’s odd. You mean she wasn’t forced?”

“No. She apparently knew who the driver was.”

There was a brief pause before McPherson responded.

“Now wait a minute here, Swansea! You aren’t implying that I was the driver of that car are you? That’s preposterous!”

“I’m not implying anything, Mr. McPherson. I’m only stating the facts. But in all honesty, doesn’t it seem a little too coincidental that you happen to own a black Lexus sedan?”

“I do not own a black Lexus! I drive a blue BMW.”

“But did you not own a black Lexus sedan at the time of your daughter’s abduction and murder?”

“Well, yes I did. But I did not do what you are insinuating I did. I loved my daughter, Swansea, and I am the last person who would ever harm her. And to be honest, I am at the end of my rope with your absurd line of questioning and false accusations. I am going to tell my wife that you are off this case effective immediately!”

“You may want to rethink that, sir.”

“And why may I ask is that?”

“It would make you look even more like a guilty suspect.”

“But I didn’t do it! I did not murder my daughter!”

“Then prove it to me. Prove to me that there is no possible way that you could have been the driver of the car that picked her up.”

McPherson let out a long sigh.

“Okay, Mr. Swansea. I’m going to tell you exactly what happened prior to Chloe’s disappearance. As I told the police detective, I was out to lunch with a colleague. We went to Thompson’s Restaurant in the short north. The place was packed and we were there for over an hour. And then we came back here. That’s when I was told that Janice had been frantically trying to reach me.”

“So why didn’t you answer your cellphone?”

“Like I told the detective, my battery had died.”

“And what were you doing before you headed out to lunch with Ms. Landry? We now know that Chloe was picked up at around 11:35, give or take a few minutes. You told the police that you left for lunch at a little after noon. Where were you at 11:30 that morning, Mr. McPherson?”

“At work, of course—just like I told the police. Besides, there is no way I could be at the school and back to the office within a half hour. You know that as well as I do.”

“Actually, I don’t know that. I timed the drive and it actually is possible—with enough time left over for you to dump your daughter off before going out to lunch.”

“Alright Mr. Swansea, that is quite enough. If I can prove to you once and for all that there is no way that I was at Saint Christopher on that day picking up Chloe will you get off my back?”

“Nothing would make me happier, sir.”

“Okay. But if I tell you what really happened will you promise me that it will stay just between us?”

“I can’t promise anything, Mr. McPherson. But I’ll try to keep an open mind.”

“I guess I’ll take my chances, then. As I told the police, I did go to lunch with Becky Landry that day. But before lunch we spent some time at her apartment in German Village. We were having an affair at the time. As you might guess, this was not something I wanted to tell the police for obvious reasons.

“Furthermore, I hadn’t even driven that day. Becky drove her car. After we left her apartment we went to Thompsons for lunch. I ignored all of my wife’s calls and I still regret doing that to this day. I love my wife, Mr. Swansea and I want to keep her. If she were to find out about Becky she would leave me in a heartbeat. Now do you believe me?”

“That depends. How can I get in touch with Ms. Landry to corroborate your story?”

“That could be a problem. I don’t know where she is now. She left the firm a month after Chloe’s death. She wanted more from our relationship than I was willing to give her.”

“And you have no idea where she went afterwards?”

“No, nor do I care. After Chloe’s death I wasn’t the same man I used to be. I felt guilty enough for deceiving Janice anyway, and losing Chloe just intensified my feelings of guilt. Becky came into my office one morning and said, ‘I quit,” and that was that. Never heard from her again.”

Alan believed the man. His story was convincing and it filled in some major holes in the case.

But he wanted to make sure. He needed to track down Rebecca Landry.

“Okay, Mr. McPherson. Thanks for your candor—I appreciate it.”

“Can I trust you not to tell Janice about this?”

“I don’t see any reason to, Mr. McPherson. As long as it doesn’t become relevant to the case.”

“Thank you. And do you believe me now?”

“I’m going to hold off answering that until I speak to Ms. Landry. And if it turns out I think you’ve fed her this story, you will go right back to the top of the prime suspect list.”

“I understand.”

“Good day.”

Now on to finding Travis McPherson’s former lover, Alan thought. If his story checks out, as he thought it would, he could eliminate the man from his list.

Finally.

And be right back at square one.

With a shrug, Alan fixed breakfast, showered and then decided to do some laundry and pay a few bills. His cellphone rang during the last load and he saw that it was Charlie Ling.

“Hey Charlie, have you got something for me?”

“I do. Apparently Rebecca Landry is now Rebecca Wielding and she lives in Philly. She married a James Wielding last November and she just had a child. Not sure what you’re looking for with regard to this woman but I can tell you that her husband was just murdered a month ago.”

“Damn, that’s interesting. What can you tell me about it?”

“Only what I read in a few online newspaper articles. Mr. Wielding was apparently shot by a sniper as he was leaving his father’s apartment. Died instantly. The police had no leads and there is an ongoing investigation. There’s a bunch more here about it but that’s the skinny.”

“Wow, sounds like a contract killing. Or a fricking mob hit. What kind of work was this guy in?”

“He worked at some sort of high-end investment firm. I’ll shoot you an email of what I have here if you’d like.”

“That would be great. And you have a phone number and an address there as well?”

“Yup. I’m sending all of it to you now as we speak.”

“Thanks Charlie. You’re the best.”

“Glad somebody appreciates me,” he laughed. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will. See ya.”

“Later, dude.”

Alan scaled the basement stairs, went into the living room office and sat down at his iMac. The info Charlie had emailed him was in the form of a zip file attachment. He opened and read each enclosed file one by one, paying particular attention to the initial newspaper article regarding James Wielding’s murder. The man had been a relatively young hot shot at a local brokerage firm who had a “very promising future ahead of him” according to his employer. The police stated that although there were no suspects in the case at the time a full investigation was under way.

The method by which Mr. Wielding was slain resulted in grave concern by the police and utter shock to the citizens of the city. Sniper fire had a tendency to cause panic anywhere it happened and this had been no exception.

Wielding was survived by his wife, Rebecca Ann and infant son, Ryan James.

Alan’s first reaction to Wielding’s murder was surprise. This was the sort of crime that could have made the national news, yet he had never heard a thing about it until now. He glanced at the date of the articles and was no longer surprised that the incident had gotten so little local attention. It had happened on the same day that the Midwest had been hammered by a major snowstorm. There had been major power outages throughout most of the state.

As he jotted down Rebecca Wielding’s phone number and address he wondered how to approach her, knowing what he now did. The woman was no doubt still mourning her husband’s death and not particularly in the mood to be interrogated about her relationship with Travis McPherson. On the other hand, there was no reason to put it off any longer—she would either be cooperative or not, period. He would simply act ignorant of her husband’s murder and see how it played out.

He picked up his iPhone and punched in her phone number. After several rings somebody picked up.

“Hello?”

“Yes, my name is Alan Swansea and I would like to speak to Rebecca, please.”

There was a brief pause.

“What is this about?”

“I’m a private investigator in Columbus and just have a couple of questions. Is this Mrs. Wielding speaking?”

“Yes, but I really don’t have much time. Please tell me what this is in regard to.”

“I am investigating the murder of Chloe McPherson, ma’am.”

“Why are you calling me, then? I know nothing about that except that it was my former bosses’ daughter and an awful tragedy. I already told the police all that I knew back then.”

“Yes, I realize that, Mrs. Wielding. There are just a couple of things I want to clear up and then I’ll let you go. I know that you spoke to police regarding your lunch date with Mr. McPherson on the day of Chloe’s murder and I just need a little clarification. Mr. McPherson has ‘come clean” so to speak about what happened prior to your lunch date with him and I would like to hear your side of the story if you don’t mind.”

“What in the world are you talking about, Mister uh, Swansea?”

“I’ll cut to the chase, Mrs. Wielding. Mr. McPherson admitted to having an affair with you. He told me this in strict confidence in order to solidify his whereabouts at the time of his daughter’s abduction. All I need to hear from you is where the two of you went prior to your lunch at Thompson’s Restaurant.”

Another pause as she no doubt contemplated how to react. Alan held his breath.

“Okay. Yes, we did have an affair for a short time. And we went to my apartment before lunch that day. Now is that all you need?”

“Just one more thing. Do you by any chance remember where you parked when you went to lunch?”

“That’s easy. I parked in the parking lot around the corner from the restaurant. There were never any parking places on the street at that time of day. “

“So you drove and not Mr. McPherson.”

“Correct.”

“Okay, then that’s all I need. Thank you so much, Mrs. Wielding. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. And I’m sorry I was so curt with you. It’s just that I’ve been under a lot of stress since my husband’s passing and I’m not quite myself.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss—no need to apologize.”

“Travis loved his daughter so much. He often brought her into the office just to show her off—she was so cute. I don’t know what’s happening in this world any more. There seems to be no respect for human life.”

“I hear you. How anyone could murder an innocent little girl is beyond me.”

“Or an innocent man. My husband was murdered, too.”

“Is that so? How horrible. How did it happen, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Shot just as he was leaving his father’s home. Somebody shot him in cold blood.”

“And they haven’t caught the guy?”

“No, there’s still an ongoing investigation. Jim was the absolute love of my life—we’ve only been married for a few months and have a baby boy. All I can hope for now is that they catch the heartless coward who did this and put him away.”

Alan heard her voice break and could tell she was on the verge of crying.

“Hopefully that will be the case, Mrs. Wielding. Well, thanks so much for your cooperation and I wish you well.”

“You’re welcome. Goodbye.”

Alan disconnected.

How odd, he thought. He calls this woman to confirm McPherson’s alibi and discovers that the woman’s husband has just been murdered in cold blood. By a sniper, no less.

How crazy is that?

His first thought: could there be a connection?

He had no real reason to think there was a connection between Chloe’s murder and the murder of James Wielding, yet it seemed plausible. Both murders had a single common denominator: Travis McPherson. McPherson’s daughter was mysteriously murdered and then a year later his ex-lover’s husband was also mysteriously murdered. Two bizarre unsolved cases and no suspects in custody.

Pure coincidence or something else?

He would have to find out more about the Wielding case before he could draw any conclusions. But right now he needed to stay focused on the case that he was being paid for.

He now knew that Travis McPherson had a solid alibi for that day, which meant he was not the murderer.

So now what?

Back to square one.

Shit, he thought.

And so if Travis McPherson didn’t do it, who the hell had been driving a car that just happened to looked like his?

Could it be that this person wanted it to appear that Travis was driving the car and murdered his daughter? Was it all a set-up?

If so, then why?

Alan’s head was spinning.