CHAPTER 7

 

Alan awoke to the clatter of dishes coming from downstairs. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was eight-thirty. He arose, slipped into his jeans and headed for the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Amanda said as he entered the room. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log. Where’s your uncle?”

“He had to go take a deposition from one of his clients. He’s letting me use his Jeep to get around in. Want some coffee?”

“Thanks,” he replied.

Amanda got out a coffee mug and poured him a cup.

“I’m having cereal—you want some, too?”

“Sounds good. I’ll make the toast.”

“So what’s the plan for the day?” she asked.

“First, I want to go get that computer from Jodi’s folks. You know where they live?”

She nodded. “I asked Uncle Ken and he left the address. It’s not far from here.”

“Let’s go there together so you can do the introductions. After I get the computer, we’ll split up. I’m going back out to God’s country to canvass Jodi’s neighbors. In the meantime you can be trying to track down Jodi’s friends and possibly visit the salon where she worked to see what you can find out.”

“Okay.”

As they sat down to eat breakfast, Alan felt awkward. Now that they were beginning their new relationship as partners in investigation, he detected an unmistakable formality in Amanda’s demeanor. He sensed that she wanted to act professional now—either to impress him with her dedication to the work at hand or simply because it would be easier to proceed that way. This was exactly what he had dreaded happening while contemplating their new partnership.

Would they be able to work together and simply put their budding romantic relationship on the back burner? Business now, pleasure later? Or would this partnership spell the end to their budding romance?

Was there even a romance budding for that matter?

He didn’t know the answer to any of these questions.

“Are you looking forward to all of this?” he asked.

She smiled. “I am—much more than I ever thought I would. It feels really good knowing that we’re doing something to help out Nick. That means a lot to me. I’m thrilled to actually be part of the hunt. It’s awesome!”

“That’s great. So let me ask you something that’s been sort of bothering me. Do you think this could mess us up somehow?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, as a couple, or whatever you’d call us.”

There, he’d said it.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, that’s what you mean! I actually haven’t given it that much thought. I mean—I figure we are what we are already. And I definitely like what we are. This collaboration or whatever you want to call it is something new we’re going to do together, as a team. So what could be wrong with that? We’ll be able to spend more time together and get to know each other better. I think that’s wonderful.”

Alan felt a huge wave of relief. Her way of rationalizing things was always refreshing and unexpected.

“Gotta say, I’m thrilled to hear you say that. I guess I’ve been over-thinking all of this, which I tend to do. It sometimes gets me in trouble.”

“Over-thinking probably goes with this line of work, doesn’t it?”

“I guess you could say that. But sometimes it’s best just to keep things simple.”

“Missed sleeping with you last night,” she winked.

“Me, too. Guess we gotta keep up appearances for your uncle, right?”

“Most definitely. He’s as old school as they get and the last thing he wants to see is his favorite niece playing house with the hired help.”

“Afraid you’d say something like that.”

After cleaning up the kitchen and letting the dog out, they showered, dressed and left the house. Amanda led the way to the Brooks residence while Alan followed behind.

The drive only took a few minutes. Alan parked the Pilot and then joined Amanda as she led the way to the Brooks’ front door.

A man wearing a suit and tie answered. “Good morning,” he greeted. “Come inside.”

They followed Mr. Brooks inside and were led to the living room. Mrs. Brooks was tidying up the coffee table and smiled as they entered the room.

“Hello, Mandy. My, I haven’t seen you in years! Your mother used to bring you in the shop when you were a little girl.”

“I remember now—you used to work at Martin’s Gift shop, didn’t you?”

“I did indeed. Worked there right up to the last day in fact, when they had to shut down.”

Amanda hugged her. “I am so sorry about Jodi, Mrs. Brooks. She was a sweet girl.”

“Thank you, dear.”

“This is Alan Swansea.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said. “Ken Barker told me he’s hired you to investigate. I sure hope you can find whoever did this.”

“We’re going to do the best we can, Mrs. Brooks.”

“Please, sit down.”

“I have a couple of questions I’d like to ask you, if you don’t mind,” Alan said.

“Of course.”

“Is there any way Nick Wilburn could be involved in this?” he asked.

“Absolutely not. Nick and Jodi’s relationship goes all the way back to when they were in middle school. They’ve been inseparable ever since. Or had been,” she corrected herself.

“How did Nick react to Jodi’s insistence to end everything when she found out about his affair? Did he accept it, or was he resentful?”

Alan saw Amanda out of the corner of his eye, glaring at him. No doubt baffled and perturbed about this line of questioning.

“Well, he wasn’t thrilled about it, I can tell you that. Nor were Hank and I for that matter. We’ve always adored Nick and thought our daughter was wrong not to give him a second chance. But Jodi was a proud, stubborn girl. Zero tolerance would be the best way to describe her feelings about philandering husbands.

“With that said, Nick was of course hurt and couldn’t believe that Jodi wanted to break it off, just like that. But from what she told me since, Nick had always acted like a gentleman whenever they spoke to each other. She even admitted that she might have been wrong to end it without at least trying to reconcile. We were both praying she would one day change her mind, weren’t we, Herb?”

He nodded. “Yes, for what good that ever did.”

“Do you know if Jodi ever dated anybody after the divorce?”

“Not to my knowledge. She called me every day and never once mentioned anything about a boyfriend or any guy friends at all. She said on more than one occasion that she was through with men, would probably die an old maid and be just fine with it. Nick had been the only man in her life.”

“Who all did she hang out with?” Amanda asked.

“She had a couple of close friends that I know of: Jillian Weathers and Summer Moore. She would always be with one or the other whenever she went out, which wasn’t often. Jodi was a bona fide homebody—came into town to work at the salon and do her shopping then drove back out to her home on the west side. She seemed to be happy just reading or crafting, hanging around her home living a quiet life.”

“Could you tell me where those two gals live?” Amanda asked.

“Sure. Summer lives on Oakland Lane and last I heard, Jillian’s living with some man in the Sunset Apartments.”

Amanda texted the information on her iPhone. “Thank you.”

“I was told you have Jodi’s laptop. Would you mind if I borrow it for a few days?” Alan inquired.

“Sure, I’ll go get it for you,” Mr. Brooks said. “But the police have already examined it and said they didn’t find anything of significance.”

“I understand, but I’d still like to borrow it—I know somebody who can give the hard drive a thorough going over.”

Mr. Brooks left the room. Mrs. Brooks said, “I appreciate what you two are doing to help find Jodi’s murderer. We have been devastated by all of this, and having the police think that Nick was involved has made it even worse. He’s a good man and doesn’t deserve any of this. And with his mother’s poor health and all—well, it’s just not right.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of this, Mrs. Brooks,” Amanda assured her.

“I hope so.”

“Do you know where Jodi’s car is?” Alan asked.

“Hank parked it out back. Jodi loved that car and Hank was afraid it might get stolen or vandalized out there with nobody in the house.”

“Did the police check it out?”

“I believe so. I’ll ask him when he gets back.”

“Mind if I take a look at it?”

“Not at all. Hank, dear—did the police investigate Jodi’s Volkswagen?”

Hank had just entered the room and handed Alan the laptop. “Yeah. Checked for fingerprints and all that. Told me it was okay to bring it here.”

Alan didn’t recall anything in the police report about the car.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a quick look at it,” he told Hank.

“Sure, it’s around back. C’mon—I’ll get the key.”

He followed Hank to the kitchen where he removed a set of keys from a ceramic bowl sitting on the counter.Alan followed him out the back door to a silver VW Passat Cabriolet that looked like it just came off the showroom floor.

“This little car was her ‘baby,’ as she called it. She really liked the thing.”

Alan noticed Hank Brooks tear up as he unlocked the door. He tried to imagine how hard it must be for this nice couple to lose their only child so tragically.

“There you go. I’m going back inside—just lock her up when you’re done.”

“Will do, thanks.”

Alan stepped in and sat down in the driver’s seat. The black leather interior was as immaculate as the exterior of the little German car. He smelled the faint scent of perfume and it dawned on him that only a week ago Jodi had most likely been sitting right where he sat now, listening to the stereo with a big smile on her face. The vibe of her death suddenly engulfed him, filling him with a dull, indescribable sadness. How could someone so young and so loved be taken away so violently?

He had to find out who did this.

He poked around in the console and glove compartment and found nothing but the owner’s manual, a box of tissues, some loose change and a couple of country rock CD’s. He peeked between the seats and saw nothing but a clean carpet. After checking under the visors and under the seats he searched the rear compartment but found nothing.

Alan popped the trunk and looked inside. The entire area looked as though it had just been detailed. He lifted up the carpet covering the spare tire compartment and saw a jack and the temporary spare. He was about to replace the carpet when he noticed a small piece of black plastic sticking out from under the spare tire. He took out his pocketknife and managed to fish the object out.

It was a memory card. Either the police had never looked here or the trip into town had jostled it out from under the tire and into plain sight.

He pocketed the SD card, closed the trunk, locked up the car and went back inside. When he returned to the living room, Mrs. Brooks was telling Amanda about Jodi’s funeral.

“Did Jodi have a camera?” he asked, handing the keys to Mr. Brooks.

“Yes, she did. A very expensive digital one,” he replied. “It was in her car so I brought it inside.”

Alan pulled out the memory card from inside his pocket. “Found this in the trunk under the spare tire. Could you get her camera so we can take a look?”

“I’ll be back.”

“I wonder how the cops missed that,” Amanda said accusingly.

“They never removed the spare tire—that much is pretty obvious.”

“How do you suppose it ended up there?”

“I’d like to know. Jodi was apparently very neat and orderly. Seems unlikely that this thing could find its way under the trunk carpet and into the tire compartment.”

“Oh, she was an absolute neat freak,” Mrs. Brooks said. “Got that from her father.”

Mr. Brooks returned and handed Alan a camera bag. He opened it up and took out a Canon EOS Digital SLR. He switched it on and reviewed the images on the camera’s LCD. There were several shots of a parade—probably taken during the Fourth of July. He clicked through about a dozen or so frames until he reached the last one.

He removed the card and replaced it with the card he had just found. To his dismay, the second card was empty.

“Either it’s been erased or it’s a new backup card,” he mumbled. “Guess that ends that mystery.”

He examined the camera case for more memory cards but came up short. He was about to put the camera back into the case when he suddenly thought of something. He removed the card and looked over at Amanda.

“Maybe this card wasn’t used in the camera. It could have been used for file storage on a different device instead.”

“That’s possible,” Amanda nodded.

“We’ll see if your uncle has a card reader and check it out,” Alan said.He stuck the card in his pocket and said, “Well, I guess we should get going. Thanks for all of your help.”

“And thank you,” Mrs. Brooks said.

After the shaking of hands and more hugs, they were shown to the door.

On the way to their cars, Alan handed the memory card to Amanda. “If you get back to your uncle’s before I do, see if there’s anything on this, okay?”

“No problem. You heading out to the west side now?”

Alan nodded.

“Guess I’ll go see if I can find those girls. Oakland Lane is only a few minutes away.”

“Give me a call if you find anything out.”

“Will do. See you later.”

As he pulled away, Alan called Charlie Ling’s number.

“Hey Charlie, what’s up?”

“Not much, haven’t heard from you in a while,” the Asian-American computer wiz said.

“Really not much happening lately. Listen, I’ve got a Dell laptop that I need thoroughly checked out. Any chance you could do that for me?”

“Yeah, but I hope you’re not in a hurry. I’m really busy.”

“How long, then?”

“A week or so?”

“Shit, I need it sooner than that. What if I paid you double time—could you get it done quicker?”

Ling let out a long sigh. “Jesus, man. Okay, I’ll put a rush on it and see if I can fit it in. And you can forget the tip—you know me better than that. When are you bringing it over?”

“Well, that’s another issue. I’m down in Milldale so I’ll have to Fed Ex it to you. You’ll get it tomorrow.”

“Actually, that’s better. I couldn’t touch it today anyway. So what are you looking for on this thing?”

“To make a long story short, it belonged to a woman who was just murdered. Amanda’s childhood friend, who’s the ex-husband of the deceased, is suspected of murdering her. We’re trying to prove his innocence so I’m looking for anyone else who could be a suspect.”

“Amanda?”

“Yeah, you know—the girl that helped me nab the perp in the McPherson case. An old friend of Julie’s.”

“Aha, now I remember. So you’ve got a new girlfriend.”

“Christ, Charlie! Why are you always trying to get me married off? This is actually a business arrangement—I’m thinking about partnering up with her on some of my cases. She’s got a sharp mind and will be a nice addition.”

“And she just so happens to be beautiful from what you told me before,” he pressed.

“Yes, that’s true. Can we get back to the computer now? I’m looking for any correspondence—deleted or otherwise—that this woman may have had through emails or social networking. Jodi, the deceased, has supposedly been living like an old maid for the past year since she and her husband divorced. I need to find out if that’s true or if somebody else is in the picture. Somebody who was looking for romance or sniffing around for a piece of pie. Also, I want to take a look at any images that may have been deleted you can retrieve. Got the idea?”

“Yeah, and it sounds like this could take more time than I have.”

“Maybe not. It’s an older laptop with only a couple hundred gigs or so. Plus the cops have already looked at it, although I doubt they scanned the entire drive. Just do me a favor and see what the situation is. If it looks like some sort of major time taker, we’ll go from there. Okay?”

“Alright. I’ll give it a preliminary scan and report back anything relevant.”

“Thanks, you da man! I’ll ship it out as soon as I can find a place here to do it—should be on your doorstep tomorrow.”

“I’ll look out for it.”

“See ya, dude.”

He disconnected and called Amanda.

“I meant to ask you, is there a Fed Ex or UPS in this town?”

“Could be, hold on.”

Alan realized she was probably Googling it right now and felt a bit guilty for not simply doing it himself. The girl hadn’t been in this one horse town for years and probably wouldn’t know any more about the local shipping facilities than he did.

“There’s a Pack and Ship store with UPS on your way out of town. No Fed Exes. It’s on Front Street a couple of blocks before you reach the bridge. It’ll be on your left.”

“Awesome, thanks.”

“What are you sending?”

“Jodi’s laptop. I’m going to have my ‘puter hacker friend take a good look at it for possible evidence.”

“Oh, I see. Well, I just pulled up in front of Summer Moore’s house. Looks like there’s a car in the driveway.”

“Good. Let me know what you find out.”

“Okay.”

A few minutes later Alan slowed down and began looking for the UPS store. He took the laptop inside, paid the man to have it packed and shipped overnight to Charlie Ling’s home in Columbus. It cost about as much to ship as the computer was worth.

He wasn’t sure how wide he should spread his net to question Jodi’s neighbors. Because her home was in such an isolated area, he doubted there was more than a handful of residences close enough to have been able to see or hear anything the day of her murder.

He pulled out his iPhone, clicked on Google Maps, clicked the GPS icon and switched to satellite mode. When the pulsating blue circle appeared on the screen he zoomed out to get a better view of the surrounding area. As expected, the homes were few and far between. He did his best to locate Jodi’s house on the screen but it was impossible to negotiate and keep an eye on the road at the same time. It would have to wait until he got closer.

Several miles further he pulled over and parked along the berm then brought up the nearby area on the phone’s screen. He knew Jodi’s house would be to the southeast of his present location so he scrolled along the narrow roads until he found it. Her place was only accessible from the same road on which he was parked. There were a couple of neighbor’s houses about a half mile before the gravel road leading up to Jodi’s home and a single farm house located a mile or so beyond it.

He pulled back out onto the road and drove another five minutes until he reached the first of the homes he wanted to canvass. The house was a small single story situated around forty feet from the road. He pulled into driveway, went up to the door and knocked. A moment later an elderly woman greeted him.

“Can I help ya?” she said.

“Hello, my name’s Alan Swansea and I’m a private investigator. I was wondering if you’d mind answering a couple of questions.”

“Depends on what you’re investigating,” she replied. “I don’t like meddling in other folks’ affairs.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that. I’m investigating the murder of your neighbor, Jodi Wilburn.”

“I should have known. Horrible thing—but I’ve already spoken to the sheriff about that.”

“I understand, and I promise I’ll be brief. Did you by any chance see or hear anything unusual that day?”

“Like I told the sheriff, nothing comes to mind. I’m an old woman, Mister um—”

“Swansea.”

“Swansea. I don’t see so well and I don’t exactly spend the day staring out the window for unusual things to happen either. Nothing going on I can recall, other than the occasional car or truck passing by. That’s it.”

“Do you remember seeing a blue SUV?

“No, not off hand.”

“I see. How well did you know Mrs. Wilburn?”

“Hardly none at all. Oh, I’d see her jogging once in a while and chat with her about the weather—wave to her when she’d drive by in her little car. She seemed to be a nice girl, friendly.”

“What did think of her ex-husband, Nick?”

“He seemed like a fine young man. Helped me get my power on one day once after a hellish thunderstorm.”

“Did they seem to get along okay—as a couple?”

“Far as I could tell. Not that I saw them together that often except when they drove by. The husband wasn’t much of a jogger.”

“Just one last question. Did you ever see Jodi with another man? Or notice any men other than her husband heading toward their house?”

“You asking if she was unfaithful? Not that I know of.”

“Well, thanks for your time, ma’am. I appreciate it. Here’s my card if you think of anything else.”

She took the card he handed her, glanced at it and said, “Hope you find whoever murdered that little gal. I don’t know what’s happening in this world anymore—ain’t safe anywhere you go.”

“I know what you mean. Well, have a nice day.”

Alan pulled away and drove to the next house. There were no cars in the driveway and the place looked abandoned. As he drew closer he saw a lockbox on the front door and noted that the windows were uncovered. He got out and peeked inside. Not a stick of furniture anywhere.

Disgruntled, he headed for the last house on his list. He passed by the road leading to Jodi’s and arrived at a two-story farmhouse a couple of minutes later. Pulling into the driveway he saw a middle aged woman standing over a lawnmower near the back of the house. He got out and walked over to her.

“You lost?” she said, eying him suspiciously.

“No, ma’am. I’m investigating the murder of Jodi Wilburn and wonder if you’d mind answering a couple of questions.”

“The sheriff’s already been here.”

“I’m a private investigator working for Ken Barker. He’s the attorney representing Mrs. Wilburn’s ex-husband.”

“I see. Okay, damn mower won’t start anyway—too cold, I guess. Shoot.”

“Thanks. Were you by any chance at home the day the crime took place?”

“Yup, all day. My son was at work and I was doing some housecleaning. There’s just the two of us living here. Husband ran off on us a few years ago.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. Best thing that ever happened to me. The man was a drunk and a womanizer. Couldn’t trust him any further than you could throw him. So I say goodbye to bad rubbish.”

“Uh-huh. So, did you see anything unusual that day? Strangers driving around or anything like that?”

“Nope. Traffic was really light that day so I would’ve noticed anybody lookin’ suspicious. In fact, I’d just gotten the mail and was coming back up the driveway when I saw one of the sheriff’s deputies drive by. I remember thinking how rare it is to see the law around here. It’s about as dead as it gets in this part of the county—nothing ever happens. Especially something like this.”

“About what time was that?”

“Must have been just past noon—that’s around the time the mail comes.”

“And you mentioned this to the sheriff when he questioned you?”

“I did. He actually acted kinda odd when I told him—like he was surprised to hear there’d been a patrol car in the area.”

Alan felt his pulse quicken. What’s this all about?

“Did you get a good look at who was driving the patrol car?”

“Naw.”

“Then how do you know it was a deputy and not the sheriff himself?”

“Like I said, Sheriff Foley never told me otherwise so I reckon it was a deputy.”

“I see. And which way was the patrol car headed?

She pointed to the west, away from the Wilburn house. “That way.”

“I’m sure he’s already asked you, but did you happen to see Nick Wilburn that day? He would’ve been driving a blue Toyota SUV.”

“Never saw him. But to be honest, I don’t know how anybody could think he’d murder his wife. It was obvious he loved her an awful lot.”

“Oh yeah? And why do you say that?”

“They invited me and Billy to their place a couple of times. Nick was really into firing up the grill in the summer and they would have us over. Lord, he made the best ribs you ever ate! Anyway, he and Jodi were attached at the hip—always clinging to each other and such. I was surprised when they split up, I can tell you that. Heard he played around on her, but that’s just a rumor. All I know is that he could never have killed her. Never in a million years.”

“Well, thanks so much for your help, ma’am. Do you mind telling me your name?”

“Esther Weems.”

“Thanks, Esther. Would you like a hand with that mower?”

“That’d be awful nice of you.”

Alan walked over, took hold of the cord and pulled it hard. There were a couple of sputters but it failed to start. He reached down, primed it and tried again. It roared to life.

“Thank you,” Esther hollered above the din of the old Toro.

Alan handed her one of his cards. “You’re welcome. Please give me a call if you think of anything you may have forgotten.”

“Will do.”

She took over the mower as Alan headed back to the Pilot.

His thoughts were in overdrive as he backed out and headed toward the Wilburn house. The possibility that the sheriff might have something to do with this weighed heavy on his mind. The law officer’s involvement might explain his overbearing presence and insistence that Nick was the murderer. It would also explain why he seemed so concerned that Alan had been hired to investigate the case.

Alan recalled the police report stating that Jodi’s mother had asked her husband to drive out here to check on Jodi at around noon. It would have taken him at least fifteen or twenty minutes to make the drive. That meant the patrol car had been spotted approximately a half hour prior to Mr. Brooks’ arrival.

Could that have been the sheriff making his getaway? What were the odds of there being a patrol car around just prior to Jodi’s body being found by her father and just prior to his contacting the authorities to report it?

But if Foley were the perp, what was his motive?

Who was he kidding? The guy was an arrogant sonofabitch and he wouldn’t put it past him. Foley was a high-ranking law officer who could easily have found out about Jodi’s stash through the small town’s legal pipeline. Young woman living alone inherits a small fortune from her grandmother and doesn’t like banks so she keeps the spoils hidden away at her home.

Certainly not implausible.

He would have to take a look at Foley—see what he might be up to. Tailing a law officer would be touchy but not undoable.

He headed toward the Wilburn house in earnest. He had left the place yesterday feeling as though he hadn’t been thorough enough. He was accustomed to working alone and still getting used to having a partner. Then the sheriff had shown up before he’d really had a chance to finish his investigation of the crime scene.

But as he drew nearer to the house, he spotted something that made him brake to a complete stop.

Parked in the driveway was a sheriff’s department patrol car.