Shake and Bake, page 16
part #6 of Roy Ballard Mystery Series
“Not yet.”
“Great. Hey, what about the gun? Was it stolen?”
“If it was, it hasn’t been reported yet.”
Contrary to popular belief, it is extremely difficult to take the serial number from a firearm and match it to the owner if the firearm hasn’t been stolen or used in a prior crime.
“But it wasn’t his?” I said.
“He says he bought it from a guy he met in a bar sometime last year.”
“Bet you a dollar he can’t give you that guy’s name or produce a bill of sale, can he?”
“What’re you, psychic?”
I stopped in Mia’s office doorway and leaned against the frame. She was busy taping off one of the windows. Her desk, a couch, and a large bookcase were still in place, but she would need to move those eventually to reach the other walls. She was wearing faded blue jeans and a tattered yellow T-shirt that was almost ready for the rag box.
“If this was one of those home-improvement shows, I’d definitely watch,” I said. “You couldn’t tear me away.”
“Yeah, like watching paint dry—literally.”
“Except the hostess is a hottie.”
She smiled, and it was the best thing I’d seen in days.
“Who was that calling?” she asked.
“Randy Wolfe.”
“What did he want?”
“He had some follow-up questions. Routine stuff. No biggie.”
I wasn’t happy that she had her blinds raised—I didn’t like the idea of anyone on the street being able to see her in here—but I didn’t say anything.
“What kind of questions?” she asked.
“Oh, as you would expect, Landon Coyt is saying he recognized Erielle and was coming over to say hello, and that I shot before he pulled his weapon. Fortunately, Erielle was there.”
Mia kept taping. “Didn’t you tell me she was kind of flaky?”
“Yeah, a little. It’ll work out. I’m not worried about it.”
She moved the stepladder to reach higher on the window.
“What color did you settle on?” I asked.
She stopped for a moment and pointed around the room. “Well, these three walls will still be white, but a softer white. This wall over here will have an accent color—St. John Blue.”
“Sounds nice,” I said. “St. John always had a way with his blues. Possibly the bluest of the blues.”
She laughed. “Stop pretending you care about wall colors.”
“I care that you care,” I said. “Isn’t that good enough?”
“I’ll take it,” she said.
“Want some help?”
“No, I’m kind of enjoying doing it myself. Makes me feel like I’m getting something done.”
She finished taping the window and came down from the stepladder. She looked around the office and said, “It’ll be nice to have a fresh start in here.”
“Well, if you want some help with the furniture, just let me know.”
“Thanks.”
I went back into my office and saw that I’d received an email from the county clerk’s office. My records request from yesterday had already been completed. Nice surprise. The probable cause affidavit for Malcolm Shaw’s assault charge was attached as a PDF, along with several other pertinent case records.
I opened the affidavit and began to read the detective’s words, and I slowly realized that sheer stubbornness and a little luck had finally paid off.
30
THE STATE OF TEXAS
COUNTY OF TRAVIS
AFFIDAVIT FOR ARREST WARRANT AND DETENTION
My name is ANITA BRADBURN and I am employed as an investigator by the Travis County Sheriff’s Office.
I have good reason to believe and I do believe that on the date above one MALCOLM SHAW in Travis County, Texas, committed the offense of Assault by Contact by intentionally or knowingly causing physical contact with another when MALCOLM SHAW knew or should have reasonably believed that the other regarded the contact as offensive or provocative.
I interviewed the complainant, ELIZA CARR, at my office. She stated that she first met MALCOLM SHAW’s business partner FRANK DIMMICK two years ago at an Austin motorcycle convention when she was working as a brand ambassador for a manufacturer of women’s motorcycle-riding apparel. Her job required her to model the manufacturer’s products and interact with customers who visited the booth.
At the convention, DIMMICK spent at least twenty minutes at the booth talking to CARR, and he eventually raised the idea that she should come work as a general assistant at Motorcycle Mania, the dealership in which DIMMICK is a co-founder and owner, along with MALCOLM SHAW. Motorcycle Mania is in western Travis County and specializes in Yamaha motorcycles, ATVs, and personal watercraft. Three months later, CARR accepted the offer from DIMMICK and went to work at the dealership. CARR has been an employee there for one year and seven months.
CARR stated that within weeks of beginning to work at the dealership, SHAW began to give frequent compliments about her appearance and the clothes she wore, especially if the clothes were tight fitting or revealed her cleavage or her legs.
CARR further stated that the compliments from SHAW slowly gave way to suggestive and inappropriate remarks that were wholly unwelcome and unsolicited. CARR gave as an example an incident last year when she was walking through the showroom and SHAW, who was standing near a motorcycle, stroked the exhaust pipe and asked if she had “ever seen one that long.” CARR did not reply, but instead ignored the remark and went about her work.
SHAW would also routinely ask CARR on several occasions if she would “like to go for a long, hard ride” after work. CARR began to object when SHAW made these types of comments, but SHAW would reply that it was “just a joke.”
When asked how many times SHAW had made inappropriate remarks to her in the time she had been employed, she replied, “Probably at least a hundred.”
CARR stated that “sometime last summer” she spoke to DIMMICK about SHAW’s comments and DIMMICK agreed to speak to SHAW, but CARR is unsure if that conversation ever took place.
CARR stated that approximately four months prior to today, SHAW brushed his hand against her buttocks as he walked behind her. When CARR objected, SHAW claimed that it was an inadvertent touch. Several days later, SHAW again brushed his hand against her buttocks as he walked past her. CARR advised SHAW that he needed to keep his hands to himself. SHAW replied, “I’ll try, but maybe you should stop wearing those tight jeans.”
CARR stated that these incidents would exclusively take place when no other employees were present, so she had no witnesses to SHAW’S behavior. However, three days prior to today’s date, CARR was alone in the parts stockroom when SHAW approached her and feigned reaching for a product on a shelf above her. CARR noted that she was trapped between two rows of shelves and had no way to get past SHAW and out of the stockroom. As SHAW lowered his hands, both empty, he reached out and groped CARR’S breasts. According to CARR, it was not incidental or accidental contact. SHAW cupped her breasts completely with both hands and stated that he had “found the two parts he had been looking for.” CARR immediately slapped SHAW’S hands away and in a loud voice said, “Stop!” She noticed then that KIMBERLY SCHICK, a salesperson with the dealership, had entered the parts room and had witnessed the incident.
I interviewed SCHICK at my office and her account of the situation matched CARR’S with no discrepancies, except that SCHICK was not able to hear anything SHAW had said to CARR. However, SCHICK did witness SHAW holding CARR’S breasts and stated, “Oh, I could tell it wasn’t an accident. He just reached right out and grabbed them both. That’s the way Mal is. He thinks it’s funny.” SCHICK stated that she herself had been subjected to harassment by SHAW over the course of her employment at the dealership, but she had no way to prove that it had ever happened.
CARR stated that there is a security camera in the parts room and she has access to the software that runs it, but when she tried to access the video footage for that date and time, she’d found that it had been erased.
All incidents listed herein happened in Travis County, Texas.
Because of the information stated herein, I request that a Warrant of Arrest and Detention be issued for the accused in accordance with the law.
31
I READ IT a second time, and then a third, trying not to let my mind race to any conclusions, but...
Why did Eliza Carr remind me so much of Raine Turner?
Raine Turner was a model and on-camera talent hired to star in a TV advertisement for the dealership.
Eliza Carr was a “brand ambassador” for a clothing manufacturer, but, reading between the lines, I assumed she was essentially a model who made appearances at various live events.
I kept reading the other case records beyond the affidavit.
Three days after the incident in the parts room, a warrant had been issued for Malcolm Shaw’s arrest for misdemeanor assault. The day after that, he turned himself in at the sheriff’s office, accompanied by his personal attorney. Bottom line was that Shaw negotiated a deal; he received one year of probation and paid a $500 fine—what most people would consider a light sentence.
As offensive as Shaw’s behavior had been, it didn’t qualify as sexual assault in the state of Texas. Instead, under the state penal code, it was a misdemeanor classified as “Assault—Offensive Contact.” But it was damn sure sexual harassment, and it was all too common.
Victims of sexual harassment or assault come in all sizes, shapes, ages, and appearances—and I knew that—but that didn’t stop me from searching for a photo of Eliza Carr online, simply because the information might be useful. Or it might not be.
She was very active on Instagram—up to a dozen posts a day—and her account was open to the public. She appeared to be in her twenties, with long, golden-brown hair. Pretty by almost anyone’s standards.
Same with Raine Turner.
Most of the content on Eliza Carr’s page consisted of photos of her—yet another young person trying to build some kind of viable online identity that would...do what for her, exactly? Allow her to be discovered? Help her be the next Kardashian? Or was this just the way most twenty-somethings expressed themselves these days?
Similar to Raine Turner.
I scrolled back two years—which took a good while—until I found photos from the days when Eliza Carr worked for the apparel company. Just as I suspected, she’d appeared at dozens of events to model the clothing, which was mostly tank tops and crop tops, blue jeans and leather pants, and various accessories, such as spiked and studded bracelets, skull pendants and earrings. No denying that Eliza Carr had a friendly smile that would’ve lured a lot of people in.
Just like Raine Turner.
I did some more digging on the county clerk’s site and saw that, in addition to the criminal charges against Malcolm Shaw, Eliza Carr had filed a lawsuit against the dealership, but my access to information was limited for that. If I had to guess, considering that Malcolm Shaw had copped a plea for the misdemeanor criminal charge, his attorney likely negotiated a settlement in the lawsuit. I found myself hoping Eliza Carr had scored a nice, fat payday.
It was all interesting information, and it made me wonder how many other women Malcolm Shaw might have harassed.
Had Malcolm Shaw been there when Raine Turner had been filmed for the TV commercial? How about other occasions? Had he said or done anything he shouldn’t have?
“I need to ask a couple more questions, and I promise I won’t share your answers with anyone, unless you give me the go-ahead.”
“Ooh, this is mysterious. What’re the questions?”
I’d texted Raine after reading the court documents and she’d called me immediately. She seemed to enjoy providing information.
“Did you know Malcolm Shaw very well?” I asked.
“Not really. He was at the video shoot, because it was right there in the showroom. All of the dealership employees were sort of hanging around, watching. Then I went to a party at his house once with Caleb.”
“When was that?”
“July Fourth last year.”
“Any other times you were around him?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“What did you think of him?” I asked.
“I didn’t really know him, but nice enough guy, I guess. Why?”
This wasn’t going where I thought it might—unless Raine was unwilling to talk about her experiences. That wasn’t uncommon with victims of sexual assault or harassment.
“Did you ever have any trouble with him bothering you?”
“Like, bothering me how?”
“Making crude comments, or touching you without permission.”
I wished I could see her face, but I would have to be satisfied with reading her tone of voice.
“Eww, no,” she said. “Was he skeevy that way?”
“There was at least one woman who filed charges against him,” I said. No reason not to share that information. It was public record.
“What did he do to her?”
“Groped her a couple of times—in separate incidents.”
“Gross. He was like my dad’s age, or close to it.”
The smell of latex paint had grown strong inside my office—Mia getting busy in her office.
“But he never behaved that way toward you?” I asked.
“Not at all, thank God.”
“Did he ever give you a compliment, but it was mostly creepy or out of line?”
“Not that I can remember, but I really wasn’t around him that much.”
“Were you ever alone with him?”
“I don’t think so.”
That might’ve been the key right there.
“So you can’t think of anything he ever said or did that might’ve pissed Caleb off?”
“Ooohhh,” she said. “I see where you’re going with this now. Let me think.”
I waited.
She said, “The only thing that even comes close—it was at that party. It was a pool party and he said he liked my swimsuit, but it wasn’t like weird or anything, or at least it didn’t seem that way at the time.”
“Do you remember what he said exactly?”
“Well, it had all these seashells printed on it, so he said something like, ‘That’s one shell of a swimsuit.’ Like a play on words, but it wasn’t weird or anything like that. Besides, I don’t think Caleb was even there when Malcolm said it. I think he was off talking to somebody else or getting a drink or something.”
“Did you tell him about it later?”
“No, because there wasn’t anything to tell. God, if Malcolm was going to make comments to anyone, a lot of girls were wearing suits a lot skimpier than mine.”
It appeared I had to face the fact that my newest theory—that Caleb Dimmick might’ve killed Malcolm Shaw for harassing his girlfriend—was off target. I had no evidence that had happened.
“Any drugs there?”
“A little bit of pot, but that’s all I saw.”
“Lots of drinking?”
“Yeah, sure. It was a pool party in July.”
“Anyone drunker than they should’ve been?”
Now I was just asking random questions until I could think of better questions to ask.
“I remember some people getting loud and kind of rowdy, but I don’t remember anyone doing anything stupid. Sorry—I know I’m not helping.”
“No, you’re doing great.”
“If Malcolm had ever harassed me, and especially if he had ever touched me, I wouldn’t have put up with it. I know it might not seem like it, but I am a very strong girl and you don’t want to mess with me. I don’t put up with bullshit.”
“I believe it. Glad to hear it. Any idea what time you got to the party?”
“I don’t really remember, because it was so long ago, but I think it was like probably one or two o’clock.”
“How many other people were there?”
“Probably fifty or sixty. They’d just pulled the briskets off the smoker, so we sat down and ate, and then we got into the pool. By then it—”
She stopped talking abruptly. A few seconds passed.
“Raine?”
“I just remembered something,” she said.
“What?”
“Wanna know who else was there?”
“Who?”
“Shauna.”
She paused for emphasis. I waited. Just let her talk.
“I’d completely forgotten about this, and it didn’t really matter to me at that point, because I didn’t know Caleb was sleeping with her behind my back. Anyway, what happened was, Shauna was there in a little bikini that looks like the American flag, which fit in with the whole July Fourth thing. I’ll admit she looked really good in it, and a lot of the guys were noticing, for sure. Some of them were making comments, especially later in the day, after they’d been drinking. Plus, her husband wasn’t there, so the guys were probably being more obnoxious than if he’d been there.”
“Where was he?”
“I don’t know, but he wasn’t at the party.”
“Okay, so did something happen?”
“At one point, a bunch of us were in the pool, and Malcolm told Shauna her bikini was very patriotic, and in fact he was saluting it right now. I mean, I knew what he meant, and to be honest, I thought it was kind of funny, but I didn’t know then that Malcolm was such a sleaze. Everybody just laughed, including me.”
“Was Caleb there to hear it?” I asked.
“Yeah, he was.”
Now we were getting somewhere.
“Did he say anything?”
“He told Malcolm to chill out, or something like that.”
“Did he seem mad?”
“Caleb? Maybe a little, but it got worse, because then Malcolm said something about how it was going to raise Caleb’s flagpole later. Everybody laughed again. Well, except for Caleb.”
