A Problem in Paxton Park, page 12
part #5 of Paxton Park Mystery Series
“Let’s check out the backroom.” Juliet led the way into the workroom. “Oh, look. It’s big. There’s so much counter space to prepare the pastries and there’s a huge walk-in refrigerator. Is it staying? Then you wouldn’t have to buy and install one.”
“I don’t know. I’ll ask the owner about it.” Shelly took a look at the small office where a safe was located and then checked out the storage area and the bathrooms. Returning to the front room, she and Juliet sat at the one table that was left in the room.
“What are you thinking?” Juliet asked her friend.
The sunlight streamed in the through the window and shined onto the wood floors.
“I just don’t know. I’m not sure what to do. Lease this place and open a bakery-café or buy the bungalow. My head is spinning.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Juliet told her friend. “Keep everything the way it is for now. You’re happy. Things are going well. If you’re not ready for a new step, then wait until you are.”
Shelly grinned. “You’re far too sensible.”
“That’s why you keep me around,” Juliet kidded.
Shelly’s smile faded as she considered the possibilities. “I like living next door to you. If I don’t buy my house, someone else will and I’ll have to find another place to live. I love the bungalow. I love the location. It’s perfect for me and Justice likes it, too.”
“Then maybe you should buy it.” Juliet leaned back in the chair.
“You think so?” Shelly asked.
With a chuckle, the young woman replied, “This is your decision and your choice. I’m staying out of it.”
“My brain is a muddle.” Shelly folded her arms over the table and leaned on them. “This case has me going in circles.”
“But there’s a good chance it’s going to be solved. David Pillman has a bloody cloth in his car wrapped around a tire iron. Once the blood is tested, it might be all over for Pillman.”
“I don’t know.”
Juliet eyed her friend. “Did you have a new dream?”
With a shake of her head, Shelly told Juliet she hadn’t had a dream since the last one when photos were falling from the sky like leaves. “No other dreams since that one.”
“What good was that dream?” Juliet questioned. “The photos we looked at down at the station didn’t reveal a thing. When we go there in a couple of hours to look at the pictures again, the result will be the same.”
“Something new might stand out.” Shelly’s voice was hopeful. “We might have missed something last time.”
“There were four sets of eyes on those pictures. We didn’t miss a thing. One of us would have seen something if there was anything to see.”
“Why don’t I have more dreams?” Shelly’s shoulders rounded in defeat.
“I bet you will. It might not matter anyway. Pillman might be the one.”
“Was Pillman that resentful of Wilson Barrett that he would attack and kill him?” Shelly couldn’t believe a small thing like not getting the job Pillman interviewed for would set off a chain of events that would end with Barrett’s death.
“It seems he was.” Juliet checked the time on her phone. “Why don’t we leave this possible coffee shop and go to a functioning one? I could use a hot coffee before we have to go to the police station to look at those photos.”
The young women left the storefront, locked the door, and dropped the key off to the real estate agent who was handling the leasing of the place, and then they headed to Main Street to get coffee and pastry at the café.
Settled into a comfortable booth, Juliet looked around. “Do you think this town can support two places that serve coffee and dessert?”
“I think it can. Lots of people love to go to a coffee shop,” Shelly said. “I’m surprised there aren’t more of them in town.”
“Then maybe you better grab that empty shop and make a million dollars off of the coffee and sweets.” Juliet lifted her full mug to her lips.
Shelly groaned. “I’m just going to flip a coin. Heads, I buy the house. Tails, I lease the shop.”
“No, you are not going to flip a coin.” Juliet sat up at attention. “You’re going to make a choice using reasoning and logic to pick what’s right for you at this time.”
Shelly slumped in her chair. “You choose for me.”
Juliet rolled her eyes. “We’re changing the subject now. You can leave everything to stew in your head for a while.”
The friends split a cinnamon roll and sipped their drinks.
Juliet said, “Jay told me Donald Chapel is probably going to work for the dispatch center on a part-time basis.”
“That guy is obsessed with police work,” Shelly noted. “It will be a dream job for him. He’ll know everything that’s going on with law enforcement. Well, not everything, I guess.”
“Enough to make him happy anyway,” Juliet said.
A woman approached the table and Shelly looked up to see Pam McFee standing beside them holding a cup of coffee. “Hi. Would you mind if I joined you? The place is full.”
Shelly welcomed the woman and introduced her and Juliet to one another.
Pam removed the lid to her drink and a plume of steam rose from the cup. She took a delicate sip, and then turned her eyes to Shelly. “Have you heard the latest about David Pillman?”
“What do you mean?” Shelly wasn’t going to spill anything confidential about what the police discovered in Pillman’s trunk. As it turned out, she didn’t need to worry.
Pam leaned close. “Pillman had a rag with blood on it in his trunk.”
“How do you know that?” Juliet asked.
“It was just on the news. I saw it on my phone.” Pam held her cup. “I knew that guy was bad news. You could tell he was trouble, too,” she addressed Shelly.
“He was rude when we talked to him,” Shelly agreed. “What did the news story say?”
“Not much more than that,” Pam told them. “The blood on the cloth will be tested to see if it matches Wilson Barrett’s. If it doesn’t match, Pillman is off the hook. I don’t know what to believe about the guy. He strongly disliked Wilson. He was a jerk towards him. But it’s incredibly hard to believe that resentment would fuel the hatred required to murder someone. And Mayor Daniels, too. Two men dead.” Pam shook her head. “For what? Why? To prove you’re better than Wilson or Mayor Daniels? To teach the men a lesson? It’s a dangerous game someone was playing. I guess I hope that Pillman is the killer then everything can go back to the way it was.”
Shelly didn’t think things could go back to normal, at least not for some, especially the victims and their families and loved ones. Would people in town remain distrustful of others? Would parents allow their kids to go to the park without them? Would people walking alone avoid the park at dusk, and later? Would townspeople look at each other with the suspicion that something dark was lurking deep within just waiting for the right opportunity to emerge?
“Wilson was such a good man,” Pam said. “It goes to show that anyone can rub someone the wrong way and if the other person’s annoyance or anger or sense of having been wronged escalates, then you could be in for a big heap of trouble even though you really did nothing wrong.”
“It’s an unsettling thought,” Shelly agreed.
“Isn’t it?” Pam asked. “I had a run-in with someone not long ago. It scared me.”
“What happened?” Juliet asked.
“I signed up to take a six-week French class at the adult education program that runs in the evenings at the high school. I got there early to find the classroom and parked in the first row near the sidewalk. I got out and started walking to the front door when I realized I left my wallet in the car so I went back. I saw a man park next to me and when he got out, he hit my car with his door. When I checked, there was a big scratch and a dent on my car. I asked him to exchange insurance information. He got so angry. He said the scratch was there already. He didn’t do it. It was such a simple thing. I was being polite when I suggested we share our information, but I got angry when he denied causing the scratch and dent. When I insisted he did it, the guy came so close to me. It was in a very threatening way. I was afraid. I didn’t know if he was going to strike me or what.”
“What happened?” Juliet asked. “Were you able to get away from him?”
“Just then Wilson Barrett arrived and pulled in next to the man’s car. He noticed something was going on and approached us. Wilson knew the man. He asked what was wrong. I told him. The man denied everything, said I was a liar trying to get him to pay for the scratch when he wasn’t the one who put it there. He got loud. Wilson took my arm and escorted me inside the school. He asked if I was okay. He was so nice to me. He walked me to my classroom and told me he would speak with the security guard. I told him no, not to bother, that I didn’t want to have the guard talk to the man and I didn’t want to have any more to do with it.” Pam looked from Shelly to Juliet. “Wilson explained to me that the man in the parking lot was the security guard.”
“The man who argued with you about the scratch was the security guard?” Juliet asked with wide eyes.
“Yes,” Pam said. “Well, I never went back to that French class. I would never feel safe with that guard there. He wasn’t able to control his anger. I was nervous to be around him. The whole thing gave me nightmares for weeks.”
22
Photographs were lined up in rows on the conference table in the police station and Shelly and Juliet held magnifying glasses above the pictures in order not to miss any important details.
Shelly let out an exasperated sigh and placed the magnifier on the table. “You were right,” she told her friend. “There isn’t anything here. Why did I have that dream of photographs falling down on me? Did it mean nothing? Am I misinterpreting something?”
Juliet yawned and rubbed at her eyes. “I think I’m going blind.”
Shelly ignored the comment. “What was Lauren trying to tell me?”
“I don’t think you should push,” Juliet said. “Let the dreams come as they may, or not. Either your subconscious will pick up on something or it won’t. This isn’t something you can force. We’re not law enforcement agents. No one expects us to do any more than what we’re able to do. We’re aren’t trained police officers. We’re both good at noticing things and sometimes people reveal more to us than they do to the police, and you have dreams. But we’re on the periphery of the investigation. We aren’t the main investigators and no one expects us to be. Either something is there for us to notice or it isn’t. We can’t pull things out of the air. Jay doesn’t expect us to.”
Jay entered the conference room. “Have you pulled anything out of the air yet?”
Juliet and Shelly stared at the woman.
“I’m kidding.” Jay gave them a little smile. “I heard the tail-end of your conversation.” She sank into a seat at the table looking exhausted. “Juliet’s right. I don’t expect more from you than what you can do. Sometimes, you’ll find something. Don’t pressure yourself. It’s never your investigation to solve. If you’re able to find something that helps, I’m grateful, but I don’t expect it from you.”
Shelly gave a nod. “Thanks.”
“So. As far as the information Pam McFee shared. I made a call to the guy in charge of the adult education program. His name is Al Hood. His thing is the logistics of the courses, keeping people safe, making sure things run smoothly. He’s not the one in charge of putting the classes together. Al remembers Wilson Barrett talking to him about the woman in the parking lot and Donald Chapel. Barrett reported what he was told by the woman. Al gave it some thought. He hadn’t had any trouble with Chapel previously, but called him in to have a chat. He said Chapel had been involved in a fender bender earlier in the day … he’d been rear-ended. Chapel was upset that his insurance would drop him if he had two claims in one day so he lied about not being responsible for the woman’s dent and scratches. And because Pam McFee didn’t want to press it any further, Al didn’t think the incident warranted firing Chapel. He gave him a warning and an explanation about how he was to deal with people coming to the school. There haven’t been any other issues.”
“I think it should have been handled differently,” Juliet spoke up. “Chapel was out of line. At the very least, he should have given his insurance information to Al and Al could have passed it to Pam. Chapel gets off with barely a slap on the hand.”
“I suggested that very thing. The incident only happened a few weeks ago. I don’t know if Al will pursue trying to get the insurance information from Chapel, but I have no authority in this thing. I wasn’t called to the school when it happened.” Jay stretched and massaged the back of her neck. “I will pass the story on to the manager of the dispatch center. He may think twice about hiring Chapel if the young man isn’t able to control his temper.” Jay looked down at the photos on the table. “How about all this? Did you have any luck?”
“None.” Suddenly, Shelly felt a wave of fatigue wash over her and she wanted to crawl into bed with Justice beside her and pull her blanket over her head.
Jay said, “I checked with the sandwich shop in town that Tina Barrett reported to have ordered dinner from on the evening Barrett was killed. She was telling the truth. She paid with a credit card and they had her information on record. They also had the details of which of the drivers delivered the meal. His name is Lewis Montero and he confirmed he handed the order to someone who matches a description of Tina.”
“There isn’t anyone else in that office who looks like Tina so she couldn’t be the one who killed Barrett,” Juliet said.
“Mike Meeks is another story,” Jay told the young women. “His whereabouts can’t be confirmed by anyone. I requested phone records to see which towers pinged his phone on the day Barrett died. Meeks’s phone must have been turned off because after 5:30pm that day, his phone isn’t sending any signals.”
“That’s suspicious, isn’t it?” Shelly asked. “Meeks just happened to turn his phone off around the time Barrett was attacked?”
“There could be other reasons for him to turn off his phone,” Jay said.
“Like what?” Juliet questioned.
“Maybe whenever he visited Tina,” Jay suggested. “When he spent time with her, he may have turned off his phone so no one could tie him to the same place where Tina was. People who cheat often have their phones turned off at certain times of the day. That way, there are no pinging cell towers to tell on you.” She gave Juliet and Shelly pointed looks.
“Where does Mike Meeks say he was at the time Barrett was murdered?” Shelly asked.
“At home. Alone.”
“Convenient.” Juliet frowned.
“No one can vouch for him?” Shelly asked.
“No one.” Jay picked up a photo and stared at it for a few moments, and then set it back down. “What do you think about the bloody cloth in David Pillman’s truck?”
“I think it’s suspicious,” Juliet said.
“What does Pillman say about it?” Shelly asked.
Jay let out a long breath. “He said he and a friend were driving around and got a flat tire. The friend used the tire iron to remove the lug nuts, or I should say he was trying to remove them. They were stubborn. He yanked on the tire iron, it flew up into his face, and he got some pretty bad cuts. He required stitches.”
“That must be easy to confirm,” Juliet said.
“The friend did go to the hospital on the night Barrett was killed and he did receive stitches and the story they gave the doctors was the same, but how do we know what actually caused the facial cuts?”
“Oh,” Juliet said realizing her error. “They could be lying about it. He could have been injured while helping Pillman murder Mr. Barrett.”
“Where’s Pillman’s friend? Can’t his blood be tested to see if it matches the blood on the cloth in the trunk?” Shelly asked.
“He’s traveling overseas. Pillman can’t reach him. The friend isn’t using his American phone. Pillman doesn’t know the friend’s itinerary.”
Juliet groaned. “What a bunch of nonsense. You don’t believe Pillman, do you?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. The blood on the cloth will be tested against Barrett’s.”
“And if the blood matches, Pillman and his friend are in trouble,” Juliet said.
* * *
“Do you mind going by the park?” Shelly asked when they left the police station.
“Why?” Juliet wanted to know.
“I want to go look around.”
“For anything in particular?”
“I just want to look at the area where we found Mr. Barrett.”
“Who am I to object?” Juliet asked, and they headed to the park.
When they arrived, they followed the path up the hill to the place where Wilson Barrett fell from the attacker’s weapon. A huge pile of bouquets and single flowers rested on the spot of grass where the dead man had been. Cards, notes, and ribbons mingled in with the flowers.
“Mr. Barrett was walking home.” Shelly glanced down to where Barrett had started the climb up the slight hill. “It was dusk, almost dark.” Shelly moved onto the walkway the man had been on. “Walk behind me,” she asked Juliet. “Be stealthy.”
The women walked a few yards along the path.
“What shoes are you wearing?” Shelly turned around to look. “Soft soles or hard?”
“Soft.”
“I could hear you walking behind me. Let’s do it again, but let’s start further down the path.”
They repeated the walk, one behind the other.
“Was it windy that night?” Shelly asked.
“I don’t remember. Why does it matter?”
“The wind might muffle the sound of someone coming up behind.”
“Could you hear me walking this time?” Juliet asked.
“Yes, but I guess it could be easy to miss.” Shelly stood with her hands on her hips, and as she turned in a tight circle, she let her eyes wander over the area. “Do you remember the people who stopped to help that morning?”
