IF I FAIL: A Jake Carrington Mystery Read online

  “Oh, good, because I can’t even stand going to wakes, never mind having to look at this. I’d get sick.” She wiped at her mouth with a shaky hand.

  “So you never came back to where the car’s parked?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, did you work yesterday?” Jake asked.

  “Yes, from noon until closing.”

  “Did you come back here yesterday?”

  “I did. Though I only went that far back.” She pointed to a spot four rows before the row with the body. “My customer chose a car and we went into the office to process his paperwork.”

  “Okay, I’ll need your customer’s name to verify.”

  “Really? Can you wait ’til he signs the rest of his paperwork? This is the first sale I’ve had this month…I don’t want to scare him off,” Michelle pleaded.

  “I don’t think we’ll scare him off, but when are you signing everything?”

  Michelle let out a deep breath. “We’re signing everything tonight at six o’clock. Thanks so much.”

  “Okay, we’ll question him tomorrow, just get me the information.” Jake left her and walked over to the next one.

  “Hi. Kevin Jones, right?” Jake said.

  “Yep,” Kevin replied.

  “Man of few words, Kevin?”

  “Naw, didn’t think my name needed a reply.”

  “Okay, when did you come on this morning?”

  “I started at eight o’clock.”

  “How come so early?” Jake took notes.

  “I like to catch the service crowd. You know, while they wait for their cars to be serviced, they browse the showroom. You won’t believe how many cars I sell that way.”

  “I never would’ve guessed. Did you sell any today?”

  “No.” Kevin shook his head.

  “Did you have any reason to come back to the last row today?”

  “No, I haven’t been out on the lot today. I didn’t have any customers. I only came out when I heard Michael scream. His customer came running into the office to get the manager.”

  “Did you work yesterday?”

  “Nope, day off. I work six days a week, with only one day off.” Kevin finished, rubbing his chin.

  “You don’t look shaken, Kevin. Are you used to having dead bodies turn up?” Jake gauged his reaction.

  “No. At this point, I’ve only heard there’s a dead body. I didn’t see it or smell it. I really don’t care to.”

  “Okay, Kevin, there’s no reason for you to see it. Once she’s identified, we’ll bring a picture around to see if you recognize her.” Jake dismissed him. The rest of his interviews went pretty much the same way. He re-interviewed Michael Murphy. Got nothing new from him either, so he headed over to Louie to see if he found out anything else.

  Louie’s interviews mirrored Jake’s. He interviewed Cathy Elder, Carl Hannon, Rob Greene, Gino Spino, and Byron Sommers. Jake looked over Louie’s list and shook his head. Some parents gave no consideration to the names they gave their kids or the trouble it would cause them throughout their lives. Gino Spino, poor kid.

  Back at the station, Jake started the process to identify the Jane Doe while Louie processed the car. Luck was on his side—her prints popped right up. A social worker employed by the state, Chelsea Adams worked in Wilkesbury, lived in Southington. Jake pulled her picture from her state ID. An attractive woman—brown hair, brown eyes, five-six, her weight at the time her picture was taken a hundred and thirty-five pounds. Mostly what Jake had gleaned from the scene, no surprises there. Her daughter reported her missing last Friday, according to the printout.

  The car she was found in was reported missing last Friday also. It belonged to an eighty year old woman. She’d left it running in her driveway while she took her groceries into the house. Mrs. Page said she’d planned on garaging it after she emptied it.

  The deceased had disappeared last Friday, April sixteenth, after having drinks with some co-workers. Her daughter, Cara, reported her missing on Saturday morning, when she didn’t show up at home. She tried her mother’s cell phone, got no answer, and started to worry. Cara Adams’ statement said she expected her mother to be home around ten o’clock Friday evening. She stressed her mother never stayed out any later without letting her know. Cara called the police station around midnight. The officer followed procedure, explaining to Cara an adult had to be missing forty-eight hours before the department expended manpower searching.

  Now they’d have to contact Cara Adams, inform her they found her mother. Cara Adams listed her brother as a contact in the police report. Jake went to work getting the work phone numbers for the kids. This couldn’t wait until the end of the day. He decided they’d start with the brother. Seth Adams, a paralegal with downtown law firm, worked within a mile of the police station. Cara, an accountant, worked in Southington, ten miles away.

  Jake drove, while Louie processed information on his laptop. Seth worked in one of the old mansions in Wilkesbury, recently converted to offices, mostly rented, or sold to lawyers. The Jackson and Healy Law Firm took an entire building. They entered a nicely appointed lobby done in neutral colors of beige and mauve. Mauve sofa, accented with rose flowered chairs, and a deep burgundy rug.

  Jake noticed the receptionist right away. She looked to be in her late twenties: blonde hair, razor cut to look messy, but sexy. Her blue, finely fitted tailored suit showcased a spectacular body. At the same time it emphasized her blue eyes. Boy, just my type. Down boy, not now.

  “Hi, can I help you?” the receptionist asked.

  “Yes, Seth Adams, please.”

  “Your name please?” she asked politely.

  Jake took out his shield. “We don’t have an appointment. My name’s Lieutenant Carrington. This is Detective Romanelli.”

  “I’ll get him right away.” She shot out of her chair and hurried down a long hallway, giving Jake time to enjoy the rear view.

  Waiting for Seth to come out, they took seats. Jake stared down the empty hallway, while Louie read a magazine. When Seth walked toward them, Jake sized him up. Five-eight, one-sixty, brown and brown he noted in cop speak. The kid looked scared. Not guilty, scared. Scared they were going to tell him what his gut already knew.

  “Detectives…”

  “Mr. Adams, is there a conference room we can use?” Louie asked.

  The receptionist pointed to the one behind her. Seth led the way, they followed behind him. There was only one way to do this—quick. Handle the shock and the emotions which followed later.

  “Mr. Adams, your mother’s Chelsea Adams?” Jake asked.

  “Yes, did you find her? Is she okay? Where is she?” he asked in a strained voice.

  “Mr. Adams, I’m sorry to inform you, we found your mother this morning.” Jake said.

  “Alive?”

  “No.”

  Seth grabbed the table. Jake thought for sure he would pass out. The boy’s face lost all color; looking around he collapsed into a chair. “You’re not mistaken? Did she have an accident?” He looked devastated.

  “We’ve identified her through her fingerprints. She was found this morning, in town. She didn’t have an accident.” Jake let it hang out there.

  Seth stared at him for a long minute. He started crying. Damn, Jake thought, how do you handle a guy crying? Happy when Louie stepped over to comfort Seth.

  “Seth, we’re sorry for your loss. Can I get you a glass of water? Call someone for you?” Louie, a compassionate man, always dealt with the survivor’s grief.

  “We’re going to have to tell my sister. Oh God, Cara.” Seth lost it big time, sobs racking his body. “Did you tell Cara?”

  “No, we came here first. Do you want us to tell Cara, or do you want to?” Louie asked.

  “Can we do it together?” He continued crying, wrapping his arms around his waist. When he answered, it sounded like the voice of a little boy. He rocked, occasionally crying out one word. “Mom.”

  Jake spoke with one of the partners
he knew at the firm, letting him know they’d take Seth home after they picked up his sister.

  “Jake, please call me if he needs anything. He’s a great kid, very close to his mother and his sister. His father left her last year for some twenty or thirty year old. They moved to Florida,” Ronald Jacobson said.

  “Thanks, Ron. You know we’re going to need to question them. Do you want to be there?” Jake offered. He knew Ronald was a corporate attorney.

  “Do you have to do it today, Jake?” Ron asked.

  “Yeah, we do. Sorry.”

  “Okay, I’ll meet you at their house in about an hour. Will you need more time than that to get Cara?”

  “No, an hour’s good. I’ll see you there.”

  They escorted Seth to Jake’s car.

  In the car, Louie asked again. “Seth, after we inform Cara, is there someone we can call to stay with both of you?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, looking out the window.

  *

  Jake left Seth in the car with Louie when he went into the doctor’s offices. On the way Jake called Cara’s office, spoke with the receptionist, and explained the situation. Jake got the information he needed. A hallway separated Cara’s office from the patient waiting room. As an accountant, she handled all the billing for the doctors. Jake approached the receptionist.

  “May I help you?” she asked.

  Jake held out his shield discreetly. He wanted to speak with Cara’s boss first. The receptionist led him to Doctor Ira Charles’ office and asked him to wait while she got the doctor. He came in immediately, looking concerned.

  “Hi, Detective; I can’t believe this is happening,” Ira said.

  “So you knew she was missing?”

  “Yes, Cara’s been very upset all week. Who could blame her? For her mother to just disappear without a clue…So you found her?”

  “We did. She’s been murdered. Cara’s brother’s out in our car. I don’t know what kind of doctor you are, but he’ll need something to calm him down. We need to tell her; do you want to be there?” Jake finished.

  “Yes. When we’re done I’ll see to her brother. They’re a very close family, Detective…” Before the Doc could finish, Jake corrected him.

  “It’s Lieutenant, Doctor.”

  “Sorry Lieutenant. Follow me, her office is this way.”

  Jake followed the doctor to an office across the hall from the reception area. A pretty young woman sat behind the desk, a phone to her ear. Cara’s coloring matched her brother’s—brown hair, big brown eyes, and slightly fuller lips. He’d have to wait until she stood to judge her height, though she appeared petite. The doctor opened the door which separated the waiting room from the office. Jake walked in first. She looked up when they came in, stopped in mid-sentence.

  “Cara?” Jake said. She stared at him, frozen in her seat. Jake could read it in her eyes—she knew.

  “Yes, can I get you some coffee?” Stalling. Jake let her, taking the seat next to her.

  “Cara, we don’t want any coffee. We found your mother this morning. She’s dead.” Before she could interrupt, he continued. “We have your brother in the car outside. He’s not in good shape. Why don’t we take both of you home?”

  She asked the same question her brother did. “A car accident? No one noticed or helped? No one found her?” Tears flooded her eyes, though they didn’t fall. Jake watched her fight for control.

  “No, she was murdered.”

  “Murdered! How? This can’t be real. She has no enemies. Who would kill her?” The questions tumbled from her lips.

  Jake still held her hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Cara. I’ll answer all your questions once we get both of you home. I’ll need to ask a few of my own, too. Okay?”

  “Cara, if you need anything…anything at all…call me. Do you want me to go with you?” the doctor asked.

  “No, I have to see to my brother. Is he okay?” This time the tears fell.

  “He’s in bad shape emotionally. He’ll probably need something from the doctor,” Jake said.

  “Who could hurt her? She’s so gentle, so kind.” Cara cried harder.

  “We don’t have any answers for you yet. We’ve just started the investigation.” Jake picked up her purse, leading her to his car. She jumped in the back seat and grabbed her brother, hugging him tightly, not letting go. They both cried together all the way to their house. Jake and Louie remained silent. Jake hoped they’d calm down so he could question them. The doctor had pressed Jake to fill a prescription before he took them home.

  Jake led them into the house, unlocking the door with the keys Cara supplied. He opened the door into a small, modest, one story house. Jake walked into a foyer and looked around; he found the living room off to the right. It boasted traditional furniture in bold navy with red accents. Old solid wood tables sat beside the sofa and the chairs scattered around the room. Doilies covered all table tops. The hardwood floors visible under the oriental area rugs were polished to a high glossy shine. The living room connected with the dining area. He assumed the kitchen would be off the dining room. A hallway off to the right—Jake thought it probably led to the bathroom and the bedrooms. The dining area, decorated in peach and green fabrics, showcased a dark ornate dining table with matching hutch and buffet cabinet. The centerpiece of lilies surrounded by green leafy stems complemented the living room. A house well decorated. A home, he corrected himself.

  Jake stood, as did Louie, waiting for them to take their seats. With everyone seated, Louie started the questioning.

  “Are you okay? Can we call someone to come over?” Louie asked.

  “No, right now I don’t want to talk to anyone,” Cara stated.

  The air filled with the annoying chimes of the doorbell—not a buzzer, a loud musical chime. It seemed too cheery under the circumstances. Jake got up and answered it. Ronald Jacobson, the lawyer, had arrived. Letting let him in, they walked into the living together. Once they sat down, the questions started on both sides.

  “What happened to my mother? Did she suffer?” Cara asked.

  “We just discovered her this morning. She’s with the ME now. As soon as we know anything, we’ll let you know. Right now, I have to ask some difficult questions,” Jake said.

  “She wasn’t raped, was she?” Cara asked with apprehension.

  They always asked, Jake thought, like death wasn’t enough of an insult on its own. “Cara, we don’t have that information. The ME will determine that in the autopsy.” It won’t help you to know.

  “Okay,” Cara answered for both of them. She seemed the stronger of the two.

  “Cara, where were you Friday night, between the hours of eleven p.m. and three a.m.?” Jake asked.

  “Here, all night. I didn’t go out. My boyfriend was working, so I stayed home. I called the police at eleven p.m. because Mom didn’t come home.”

  “Did you call from your cell phone or the house phone?” Louie asked.

  “I think the house phone, I’m not sure. I didn’t hurt my mother,” Cara stated.

  “We don’t think you did, Cara, this is standard procedure. Before we can move forward, we have to eliminate both of you. We’re also going to ask your father the same questions,” Jake explained.

  “The bastard’s in Florida with a girl my brother’s age. He left my mother last year around this time,” Cara spat out.

  Now if Jake had her father in the morgue, she might be his number one suspect, after seeing her reaction. Such venom. “Cara, who’d she go out with on Friday night?” Jake asked. “I’ll need her friends’ names, addresses, and phone numbers, if you have them.”

  “She went out with her girlfriend, Julie Cahns, and with Sara Hurdle from work. I think there was another girl from work. I’m not sure. I’ll go get her address book.” Cara stood to leave the room.

  “Do you know where they were going?” Louie asked.

  “They usually go to the golf course for dinner. If they’re in the mood, they g
o into the lounge for drinks after.”

  “Which course?”

  “Sorry…it’s the one on the west side of town, the public one. I can’t remember the name.”

  “Wilkesbury Hills?” Jake questioned.

  Cara left the room. Jake looked at Seth. He had pulled himself together and sat quietly while they questioned Cara. He almost looked comatose, Jake thought.

  “Seth, are you up to a few questions?” Louie asked gently.

  “Yes, if it will help catch the person who did this to our mother.”

  “Where were you Friday night?”

  “I went to dinner with my girlfriend, Olga. We ate at Cava’s, in Southington. After dinner we went back to her house. Her parents weren’t home…so I spent the night.” He actually blushed.

  “I’ll need Olga’s information,” Louie said, as Cara returned to the room, giving Jake the address book.

  Seth supplied the information for Olga. “Can I ask her to come over later?”

  “Yes, just not right now. We need to speak with her before you do, okay?” Louie said.

  “Okay.”

  “Do you know anyone who might have been giving your mother any trouble at work or in her personal life?” Jake asked.

  “No, everyone liked her. She never harmed anyone or got into fights or arguments. She didn’t date,” he said, showing some anger.

  Jake preferred the anger to Seth’s crying. The anger would help him deal with it.

  “She hasn’t dated since she divorced your father?” Louie clarified.

  “She didn’t divorce him, he divorced her. No, she didn’t date. It shattered her when he came home announcing he was leaving her. It came right out of the blue.”

  “Do you keep in touch with him, Seth?” Louie asked.

  “Yes, more than my sister. She’s really angry with him. She won’t even acknowledge his new wife. Can you believe it? She’s someone I dated in high school.”

  It takes all kinds. Jake looked around at the lovely home, wondering why someone decided to leave their family. He wrote in his notebook. Trouble? Look into Chelsea’s marriage.

  Seth continued. “Well, she thought she hit pay dirt with him. I fixed her. I got my mother the best divorce lawyer around. He stripped Dad with the alimony; including his pensions and 401k’s. If she wants any money, she’ll just have to work for it.”