CHAPTER 14

 

It was a crisp, sunny day so Alan had decided to take Pan out for a long walk. He loved this old Columbus neighborhood for its pleasant throwback to the past. In contrast to the burgeoning outlying suburbs with new housing developments, cookie-cutter houses and home owners associations, Clintonville prided itself on its wonderful, old two and three-story houses, tree-lined sidewalks and a genuine feeling of neighborliness. Yet one could also still catch a movie, pick up a carton of milk or attend a farmer’s market on the weekends within walking distance of his home.

It was chilly and Alan hoped the crisp morning air would help clear out his head. Although he had made some progress in this case, he still felt like he was standing in wet concrete. He had known that it would be slow going when he accepted the case but he had never fathomed it would take him this long just to rule out the only possible suspect there was thus far.

He attempted to mentally distance himself from the case and look at it from afar so to speak. He had tried this ploy before, pretending that he was an outsider looking in while explaining to somebody on the other end of an imaginary phone line what he saw from a layman’s point of view. The person on the other end would in turn ask questions if something wasn’t clear or didn’t make sense.

He began by telling the listener that he sees a young girl standing in a playground at school. She has suddenly moved away from all of the other kids and is by herself out by the basketball court.

The listener asks Question 1: Why did she go all the way out there alone?

He has no answer.

Suddenly the young girl sees a black Lexus that looks just like her father’s car driving along the street beyond the schoolyard. The car slows down, the girl waves and she starts to run over to it. But there is a fence standing in her way with a gate that is always locked.

Yet on this particular day it isn’t locked.

Questions 2 and 3: Why is the fence unlocked and who unlocked it?

He has no answer.

The young girl runs through the gate and heads for her father’s car. The passenger door swings open and she gets inside on her own free will.

Question 4: if the driver isn’t really her father then why in the world would she get inside with a stranger? She’s old enough to know better than that.

Good question but he has no answer.

Question 5: But what if the driver is not a stranger?

Good point.

The car with the little girl inside suddenly takes off.

Question 6: Why in the hell didn’t a single person on the playground see any of this happen?

Alan stopped there. After considering how this scenario played out he came to a simple conclusion: this series of events had been carefully planned out in advance. And who ever planned had been meticulous to a fault.

He was not looking for a person who just so happened to swing by a school with hopes to pick up a young female student. He was looking for a person who had something much more diabolical and methodical in mind.

And although he had no idea why that person had done this, he sure as hell had a pretty good idea of what he was up against: a person cunning enough to have pulled off what, at least for now, appeared to be a perfect crime.

On one hand, consider the timing. In order for Chloe to be out near the street the moment her supposed father drove by, something had to have occurred that drew her out there. This could not have been coincidental. The killer expected her to be out there, period.

Secondly, it wasn’t dumb luck that the gate happened to be unlocked that day. The killer knew that the only way he could get Chloe inside the car was for her to be able to come through the fence. In other words, the gate had to be unlocked. Somehow, he had seen that this was carried out beforehand.

Assuming that the driver had not been her father, then why had Chloe gotten inside the car? Who could have been driving her father’s car that she trusted? The only person he could think of was her mother, Janice McPherson. Could Janice have set her husband up? Taken her daughter somewhere and murdered her and dumped her in that ravine and made it look like Travis had done it?

Alan had a real problem with this. Not only did it seem unlikely from an objective point of view, what could possibly have been her motive?

It suddenly dawned on him that Janice could theoretically have done it. She had been at home when the principal called to inform her of Chloe’s disappearance. All Janice would have had to do was drive home while Chloe was restrained somehow and then act like she was in utter shock.

And she could have taken her husband’s car from where it was parked at UrbanGroup long enough to pick Chloe up, kill her, ditch her body in the ravine, and then return the car before Travis arrived back at the office.

Except for one little detail. She had driven directly to the school after hearing of Chloe’s disappearance from the principal and had remained there throughout the initial investigation.

Janice McPherson did not do this.

So if neither father nor mother had been driving the car, who could it have been?

And if it had in fact been Travis McPherson’s Lexus, how did the person obtain it in the first place? And get it back to the UrbanGroup in such a small time frame?

The car had not been Travis’s.

It had to have been a car that looked like his—easy enough to do.

Which leads back to who could have been driving a car that looked like Chloe’s father’s?

Ah, the sixty thousand dollar question.

Another consideration: had this person acted alone? Or could somebody else have been in on it?

Or for that matter, could somebody have helped the killer unknowingly?

That seemed the most likely possibility, all things considered. This crime did not smell of one committed by more than a single individual.

Like a light bulb had switched on in the darkness, Alan knew what he had to do next. Somebody on that playground had to have said or done something to lead Chloe away from the rest of the kids and out by the fence. Maybe this person had led her to believe that her father would be dropping by at a certain time. Otherwise, there was no way in hell that the timing of events could have been so well synchronized.

Now all he had to do was figure out who the killer’s willing or unwilling accomplice had been that day. That was going to be no small feat if even possible at all.

But he had to at least give it a shot.

 

A half hour later he arrived home and gave Pan some fresh water. He located Janice McPherson’s phone number and punched it in.

“Janice? It’s Alan Swansea,” he said.

“Hello Alan. I am so glad you called. I’ve wanted to call you a dozen times but I didn’t want to be a pest. I was actually going to give in today so you have saved me the trouble.”

“Honestly, Janice, you can call me any time. You won’t be bothering me.”

“And I appreciate that. So what have you got for me? Any good news?”

“I wish I could say so but I can’t. I am making a little progress but it’s moving very slowly, I’m afraid. I have a question for you, though.”

“What’s that?”

“Who was Chloe’s best friend at the school?”

“Well, she had quite a few friends actually.”

“Can you think of any that could have been out on the playground with her that day?”

“Um, let me see. Jenny Crosley was in the same class so she probably would have been out there at the same time. She’s about the only girl I know for sure who was in Chloe’s class. She used to complain that most of her friends were in a different classroom so she hardly ever got to see them during school.”

“Can you tell me how I could reach Jenny?”

“Sure, wait a moment and I’ll give you the Crosley’s number.”

“Thanks.”

A moment later she said, “I found it.”

She recited the girl’s phone number while Alan jotted it down.

“Great, I’ll give her a call. And if you think of any other friends of Chloe’s who might be able to answer a few questions, let me know, okay?’

“Sure. May I ask what this is all about?”

“I’d really rather not say at this point. If something comes of it, I most certainly will, though.”

“Fair enough. Do you have anything else you’d like to share, Alan?”

Sure, how about your husband was having an affair with one of his employees? he thought.

“Not really anything at this time. I will say that a few things are developing but nothing concrete yet. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’ll just have to be patient.”

“Yeah, afraid so. Well, I’m going to give the Crosley’s a call. Thanks, Janice. I’ll be in touch.”

Alan disconnected and then dialed the number on his notepad. Two rings later a woman answered.

“Mrs. Crosley?”

“Yes, this is she.”

“My name is Alan Swansea and I got your phone number from Janice McPherson. She has hired me to investigate Chloe’s murder and I wanted to ask if it would be okay to speak to your daughter some time regarding the case.”

“Oh, I see. I don’t see anything wrong with it, but could you tell me why you want to speak to Jenny?”

“I am trying to learn what she may have seen or heard on the day that Chloe disappeared. Mrs. McPherson told me that they were in the same classroom, so perhaps she and Chloe had been together on the playground.”

“I can tell you that Jenny was indeed on the playground that day, but she told me she hadn’t spoken to Chloe. She said they’d had a tiff about some silly thing that had happened the day before and still weren’t speaking to each other. You know how these kids get sometimes. Anyway, I know that this has had a horrible effect on Jenny because of what happened and she still has trouble dealing with it.”

“That’s a shame. I would still like to speak to her if you don’t mind.”

“No problem. When would you like to come over? She’s at school now but I’ll be picking her up at 2:30. We’ll be here from three o’clock on.”

“How would 3:30 be?”

“That would be fine. I’ll tell you how to find the house.”

She gave Alan the directions and he jotted them down.

“Great, I’ll see you at 3:30. Thanks so much, Mrs. Crosley.”

“You are welcome.”

He knew it was a long shot but maybe Jenny could shed some light on why Chloe had gone off by herself. The fact that they hadn’t spoken to each other was a disappointment, though. He would just have to wait and see.

He called Mike Draker and got his voice mail so he asked the detective to call him as soon as he could. He wanted to find out if Mike had heard anything about the sniper killing in Philadelphia. Maybe he could get some facts about the case from the Philly police department if nothing else.

Alan spent the rest of the day running errands and cleaning the place up. At three o’clock he got in the Pilot and headed to the Crosley residence.

The Crosleys lived in a fairly new home not far from the McPhersons. Alan parked in the driveway behind a Toyota minivan, walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. A moment later a woman who he assumed was Mrs. Crosley opened the door.

“Hello,” she said. “Mr. Swansea?”

Alan nodded. “Alan, please.”

She opened the door further and offered her hand.

“Gail Crosley. Please come in.”

She led Alan into the foyer.

“Jenny is in the family room. Please follow me.”

Alan observed the house on the way to the family room and was impressed with its layout and furnishings. A pretty cozy feel for a house so new. He followed Gail into the family room and saw two girls sitting on the sofa watching a movie on a huge flat screen television.

“Jenny, this is Mr. Swansea, the man I was telling you about. Alan, this is Jenny and her friend Meghan.”

Alan smiled and greeted them. He could already sense he was going to have some serious competition with the movie in progress. Sensing this, Jenny’s mother picked up the remote and paused it.

“You can watch after Mr. Swansea is done asking you a few questions.”

Okay, Mom,” Jenny said, trying her best not to act too awfully put out. The girl was cute with long blonde hair and was missing a couple of front teeth. Her friend seemed shy and hadn’t yet taken her eyes off the television set.

Gail motioned to one of the chairs across from the sofa and Alan sat down in it. She then sat down on the sofa beside her daughter.

“I’ve already told Jenny that you want to ask her some questions about the day that Chloe disappeared from the playground,” Gail informed him.

“Thank you,” he replied. “I heard that you and Chloe were not talking to each other that day, Jenny. Can you tell me why that was?”

“We got into a fight over something she’d said to me. I called her a nerd in class the day before and the whole class laughed. She got really mad but instead of saying I was sorry, I teased her about how she raises her hand every time Mrs. Kramer asks a question to the class and that’s why she’s a nerd. She almost started crying and I felt really bad so then I said I was sorry. But she was too mad and she quit talking to me for the rest of the day.”

“And she was still mad at you the following day?” asked Alan.

“Uh-huh. I said I was sorry again that morning and she just ignored me.”

“Did you try to talk to her again during recess?”

“No. I figured she would tell me when she wasn’t mad at me anymore so I just stayed quiet all lunch.”

“Did you happen to notice who she hung out with out on the playground?”

“Nobody, really. The only time I noticed her with anybody was when Katie Callahan talked to her.”

“Is she another one of Chloe’s friends?”

“Hmm, not really. Katie is always trying to be friends with me and Chloe but we don’t really like her that much.”

“Oh, why is that?”

“She stinks,” she said. Both girls then started giggling.

“That’s horrible, Jenny Crosley!” Gail scolded. “Just because somebody has poor hygiene is no reason not to be friends with them.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I mean, we don’t make fun of Katie or anything and we talk to her all of the time. Just not for very long.”

Gail glanced over at Alan. “Real darlings, aren’t they?”

Alan didn’t know how to respond to that so he didn’t. “Okay, so Katie spoke to Chloe. How long did they talk?”

“Not too long. Maybe a couple of minutes.”

“And what happened when they were done talking?”

“Katie walked away and Chloe just stood there for a little bit. Then a few minutes later I saw her walking out to the basketball court.”

“Did Chloe go out to the court very often?”

“No, I thought that was sort of weird because she never goes out there. Then I just figured that maybe she was just trying to avoid me so that’s why she did it.”

“Did you see anybody else go out to the court beside Chloe?”

“No.”

“Did you happen to see what she did while she was out there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like where was she looking when she was out there? Back toward the playground or in some other direction.”

“I didn’t really pay much attention to her. I think she was facing the street some of the time, though. I thought about going out to see if she wanted to talk but I changed my mind.”

Jenny turned away and looked as if she might start crying.

“Are you okay, honey? We can quit now if you’d like to,” her mother said.

“It’s alright. I just feel sad that I didn’t go see her.”

Alan felt horrible that he was putting the girl through this. He’d heard all he needed to hear.

“I’m sorry, Jenny if this upset you. I don’t have any more questions. Thanks for letting me speak to you.”

“Okay.”

Alan stood up.

“I guess I’ll be going now. Nice meeting both of you.”

Gail thanked her daughter as well, handed her the remote control and led Alan out of the room. When they reached the front door, Alan shook her hand again.

“Thanks again, Gail. And I’m really sorry that this upset Jenny like that.”

“It’s fine, Alan. She needs to learn how to deal with things like this as hard as it might be. She’s a pretty strong girl and will get over it quickly enough.”

“Do you by any chance know this Katie Callahan girl?”

“No, I’m afraid not. I had no idea that sort of thing was happening back then. To think that they were so judgmental toward a student like that. The last thing I want Jenny ever to be is snobbish.”

“That was almost a year ago so maybe she has matured since then,” Alan offered. “At any rate, thanks again for letting me speak to her. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. Did anything she say help you?”

“It sure didn’t hurt—let’s put it that way. I’ll need to talk to the Callahan girl and see what I can find out there.”

“Well, good luck. I hope you find the monster that killed that sweet girl.”

“Me, too. Thanks again.”

When Alan got in his car he checked his cell phone. Somebody had called while he was interviewing Jenny and he saw that it was Mike Draker. He returned his call.

“Hey Mike, sorry I missed you. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

Alan brought the detective up to speed about his latest conversation with Travis McPherson, the man’s admittance to having an affair with Rebecca Landry/Wielding and how his tryst with her at her apartment before lunch proved that he couldn’t have been at the school that day.

“I was able to track down Rebecca to confirm his story and it checked out,” Alan continued. “She lives in Philadelphia now and her husband was just murdered by a sniper a couple of weeks ago.”

“You’re shitting me,” Draker said.

“I shit you not.”

“That’s kind of interesting now, isn’t it?”

“Exactly what I thought. I immediately wondered if somehow there could be a connection between the two killings. Am I crazy for thinking that?”

“Not in my book,” Draker replied. “Maybe if McPherson wasn’t smack dab in the middle of the two murders I wouldn’t give it much thought. But for his daughter to be killed and then his ex-lover’s husband a year later—something worth exploring, anyway.”

“Good, I’m glad you said that. I was surprised I’d never heard about the murder since it was a sniper hit. Did you ever hear anything about it?”

“Nope. But I’ll tell you, buddy, there is so much weird shit going on nowadays that we don’t hear a fraction of it. The world is swiftly going down the tubes.”

“I hear you. Anyway, is there any chance I could ask another favor? I mean, I know you’re already wondering whose case this is in the first place and I don’t blame you. But my hands are tied when it comes to squeezing info out of the cops.”

“I already know what you’re going to ask and I’ll see what I can find out. Don’t worry about it, man. I want this guy caught as much as you do so you’ll get all the help I can possible give you. Told you that from that get-go.”

“I know you did and I appreciate it. I just feel like I’m overstaying my welcome sometimes.”

“Screw that—no need to worry. I’ll call Philly and let you know what I find out about the murder investigation. What was the guy’s name?”

“James Wielding. Snuffed out as he was leaving his father’s apartment.”

“Jesus. How was the wife handling it?”

“Not so good. They have a kid, too—an infant.”

“Hell’s bells. Like I said, this world is royally screwed up. I’ve got a few things to take care of right now so I’ll try to call the PPD when I get done. I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks, man.”

As he drove home, Alan was grateful for having Mike Draker in his court. He had already come to the conclusion that he wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of solving this case if it weren’t for Draker and he wondered what he would’ve done had the detective not been such a team player.

The answer to that was easy: he’d have been shit out of luck.