A Wrongful Drift (Seagrove 8) (5 page)

BOOK: A Wrongful Drift (Seagrove 8)
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He shook his head and kissed her on the top of the head before patting Mr. Bradshaw and heading down the staircase.

“I guess it’s just you and me for the movie, Mr. B,” she said.

Mr. B barked once and joined her on the couch, but she had fallen asleep before the title credits had finished running and only woke up when the movie ended.

“Well, that was a waste,” Sadie said. “Come on Mr. B, it’s time for bed.”

When Sadie and Mr. B walked into the police station in Hillside, she was looking a lot more confident that she felt. She would have much preferred that Zack make her case with Officer Ryan, but she understood why he wouldn’t and she respected him for it. Still, she was quaking in her boots on the inside.

She walked up to the desk sergeant and told him she wanted to see Justin Ives and speak to Officer Ryan. The desk sergeant wrote it all down and asked her to have a seat. She sat on a bench against one wall and Mr. Bradshaw jumped up and curled up on her lap and they waited. And waited. And waited some more. Sadie was beginning to despair of ever seeing Justin when a door opened.

"Ms. Barnett, please come this way," the female officer said and turned and walked away.

Sadie scurried to the door, afraid it might lock if it closed and she'd be reduced to either banging on it or sitting down and waiting again. She caught the door just before it slammed shut and pulled it open so she and Mr. B could slide through. The officer was waiting at the end of the hallway, not impatient, but just standing there as if it was a daily occurrence; waiting for the slow civilian to catch up.

Sadie followed the officer down the hall to the left and was let into a room. Justin was sitting at the table waiting and his face lit up when he saw her. He looked awful; unshaven, sleep deprived and disheveled. He'd clearly appeared to be out of his element while wearing one of those oversized jumpsuits.

"Justin," she said, "how are you doing?"

"You've got to get me out of here, Ms. Barnett. I swear I didn't kill her. I loved her. I still love her." He was about to descend into hysterics.

"Easy," Sadie said. "It will be okay. Have you called a lawyer?"

He shook his head. "No. Who would I call? And don't they automatically think you are guilty if you call a lawyer? Innocent people shouldn't need a lawyer, right?"

"Justin, where were you when Oxford was sure I'd murdered Curtis? Yes you need a lawyer. A lawyer would have gotten you out of here the very first day."

He hung his head. "I can't pay for a lawyer."

"You can't afford not to pay for a lawyer. How many days have you been out of work? What about your reputation? College professors can't afford to languish in jail, especially junior ones." He looked as if he might start crying.

"What can I bring you?" she asked quickly to divert his attention. Not that she minded men crying, it was just she thought he'd be embarrassed if he cried in front of her.

"Do you have the name of a lawyer?" he asked, straightening his back.

Sadie took a piece of paper and pen from her bag and wrote the name and number of the lawyer who helped her when she was threatened with arrest.

"This," she said as she slid the paper across from him, "is the name of a really good lawyer. Tell her I sent you. Do you need anything else?"

"Thank you," he said. "Will you come visit me again? I'm lonely."

“If you’re not out of here tomorrow I’ll come back and see you. But if you call that number I gave you I guarantee you’ll be out of here.” Sadie skewered him with her eyeballs.

“Call her.”

“I will, I’ll call as soon as you’re gone.”

“I’m going now then because that phone call is the most important thing you can do this year.” She stood up and patted him on the shoulder.

“Do it now and everything will be okay.” Sadie felt like a fraud as she went back to the station desk. She didn’t really know everything would be okay, but what was she supposed to say to him?

“You’re going to rot in this hellhole unless I can find the person who killed your girlfriend?” She grimaced to herself as she waited for the desk sergeant to tell Officer Ryan she was waiting.

Officer Ryan was cordial when Sadie finally was let into his office. “Ms. Barnett,” he said offering her a chair, “have you thought of something you forgot to tell me?”

“Not so much, no. I came to tell you that you’ve got the wrong man in custody.” She sat gingerly on one of his chairs and held Mister Bradshaw in her lap.

“What makes you think that?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Because I know Justin Ives, and he could not have killed Sylvia Jones.” She tried to keep her voice level and unemotional but she wasn’t entirely successful and there was a hint of a quaver when she said Sylvia’s name.

“How do you know Professor Ives could not have killed Sylvia Jones?” He asked. “Can you give him an alibi?”

“No, I can’t give him an alibi, I just know that he couldn’t have done it.” She knew it sounded ridiculous even if it was the truth. No wonder Zack hadn’t been willing to speak to him.

“My dog, Mr. Bradshaw,” she nodded down at the K-9 in her arms, “likes him. Mr. Bradshaw knows the difference between murderers and non-murderers. I know it sounds ridiculous but it’s true. He knows.”

“Ms. Barnett, I don’t doubt the ability of your dog to judge human character. However, I cannot release a man based on a dog’s good opinion. I’d be laughed out of my job. And what if Mr. Bradshaw is wrong in Mr. Ives kills again? Could you live with yourself because I couldn’t,” he said.

“The longer you keep Justin in jail, the more you damage his reputation. He’s a college professor. This stay in jail could cost him his job. He might never work in education again.”

She felt like she should get angry, jump up and down, make Officer Ryan listen. But she didn’t think it would make any difference. And if she was honest with herself, she’d have known it wouldn’t. But she had to try. She sighed.

“Clearly Mr. Bradshaw and I are not going to change your mind, but later on, when Mr. Bradshaw is proven to be correct, I want you to remember that I did warn you that you have the wrong man. In fact, I don’t think it was a man at all. I’m pretty sure the sorority pledge that didn’t make the cut killed Sylvia Jones. A girl, not a man at all.” She got up out of the chair.

“Thank you for your time,” she said and left the room.

It took her a couple of minutes to find her way out of the maze of hallways to the front door of the police station. She walked sedately to her car, put Mr. Bradshaw in the front seat and got in. She looked around to see that no one was watching her, and when she was certain she was alone, she let out her frustration by pounding on the steering wheel and yelling “Argh!” at the top of her voice.

Then she took a deep breath, started the engine and drove sedately away. Like a good citizen. It wasn’t just that she knew she looked foolish, it was the inability to do anything that really would help. Life is just so frustrating sometimes.

“Back again, Ms. Barnett?” The woman behind the desk at the college registrar’s office recognized her immediately.

“What can I help you with now?” She wasn’t exactly friendly, but at least she wasn’t openly hostile or refusing Sadie’s requests. That was an improvement.

“This is going to seem like a pretty odd question,” Sadie said. The clerk raised her eyebrows.

“I’m looking for a woman, an underclassman - most likely a freshman. I have no idea what her last name is but her first name ends with A-N-D-Y. Or maybe an I instead of the Y. You know like Randy, Mandy or Sandy. It could even be Andy.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever had that request before,” the clerk said.

“Give me a minute.” She went back over to her desk, clicked her mouse and tapped a few times on a keyboard.

Sadie leaned on the counter and waited while Mr. Bradshaw sniffed around her feet. There had to be a lot of good smells down there, she thought.

The clerk clicked a couple of more keys and the printer spit out a piece of paper, which she brought over to Sadie. “Here you go,” she said.

“Good luck with what you’re doing. I have no idea what it is, but I know the Dean of Students thinks it’s important. What the Dean of Students is behind, I’m behind.”

“Thanks,” Sadie said and took the paper. “I hope it turns out to be important or all I’m doing is just wasting my time and yours.”

Sadie took the paper out to the car and looked at it. There were three names: Mandy Wills, Tandy Smith, and Candy Foster. Their phone numbers and addresses also were listed, along with their year in school. Mandy and Candy were freshmen. Tandy was a sophomore.

“Better call Zack before we go,” Sadie said to Mr. Bradshaw. “I think the crumb trail might be coming to an end, and someone should know where we are in case we disappear.”

Mr. Bradshaw tilted his head and whined in a way that Sadie took to mean, “Why are we going then?”

“Because someone has to make sure Professor Ives doesn’t go to jail for a crime he didn’t commit, and that Sylvia Jones gets justice, that’s why.” She picked up the phone and dialed Zack.

4

Z
ack was not particularly
happy to hear Sadie had more women to question. “Can’t you just give the list to Steve Ryan and let him take care of it?” he asked.

“I went to see Steve Ryan,” Sadie said. “He made a comment about needing some kind of proof that Mr. Bradshaw’s right. So I’m out looking for proof. When I find it, I will give it to him, willingly. But I’ve got to find it first.”

“Maybe you should wait until one of my officers can go with you, or at least Lucy and Betty,” he said, sounding concerned.

“I have Mr. B with me,” she said, “but if it will make you feel better, I’ll call and see if Lucy or Betty can go with me. How’s that?”

“Not perfect, but I’ll take it,” he said. “Be careful, will you? You seem to think you’re invincible, but you’re not. And I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’ll be careful,” she said without really meaning it. She wasn’t lying so much as she didn’t really see what could happen.

“Love you,” he said.

“Love you more,” she said and hung up the phone.

She dialed Mandy Willis’ number and made arrangements to meet the girl at a coffee shop near the college campus later in the day. Then she drove home to walk Mr. Bradshaw in the park and see what was going on at the shop.

Betty was all aflutter when Sadie walked into the shop after walking Mr. B in the park. "Oh good, you're back! You know the barrel organ you brought back from Italy with the stuffed dancing monkey? I sold it."

Sadie snorted. "I knew someone eventually would buy that thing. Are they taking the monkey and all?" she asked, unhooking Mr. Bradshaw from his leash.

"Lock, stock, and barrel. I got the impression that if you had a stuffed organ grinder to go with it, he would have taken that, too. And get this - he's going to put it in his Italian restaurant in Boston. He must have some different clients because I wouldn't want a stuffed monkey watching me eat spaghetti."

"I'm sure it will bring a certain crowd," Sadie said. "Is he coming to pick it up?"

"No, he paid to have it shipped. I'm getting ready to box it up now. He brought me a wooden crate to use. I will be so happy not to have that creature watching me from the back of the store," Betty said.

"I thought that's why we put him in the back, so you wouldn't have to see him watching you" Sadie said, raising her eyebrows.

"Except I know he's there; endlessly watching me with his tiny monkey eyes, thinking his tiny - and probably evil - monkey thoughts. I can't wait to pack him up."

"Here, I'll help," Sadie said as she pulled off her coat. "There have been times when I could have bought stuffed human remains. I could have dressed one like an organ grinder and sold him with the monkey."

"Gross, and probably illegal," Betty said. "Now, a wax figure would work. They look pretty lifelike when done well."

She lifted the organ grinder into the box and held it while Sadie fastened the straps that held the musical instrument up against the hard foam packing. They boxed the monkey separately and then nestled that box into the crate with the musical instrument. More packing material was added and then finally they nailed the lid in place.

They rolled the crate on its dolly over to the roll-up door on the delivery dock and left it there in anticipation of the shipper’s arrival.

"I can't tell you how happy it makes me to send that little guy away," Betty said.

"I never understood why you bought such an evil looking monkey." She shivered. "I swear he'd curse me if he could. And I don't mean curse as in swear words. I mean voodoo, dark magic, you'll die before nightfall kind of curses."

"You let your imagination run away with you," Sadie said. "It's one of the things I like best about you. But that does mean you have to take the furies with the fairies."

"We don't get many fairies in here," Betty said. "We tend to be heavy on the furies, the ghouls, the goblins; you know, the scary stuff."

"Ninety percent of the stuff we have is totally benign. Five percent is magical, like fairies, except I haven't come across any fairies, and the other five percent belong in the scary stuff category. But let me remind you the scary stuff sells more than the magical. I don't know why, but it does and that's why I bring it home."

"Well, I'm looking for the magical on our trip. You and Lucy can find the evil monkeys. Do you want a cup of coffee? I'm going next door for tea."

Betty came back with coffee, tea, and pastries and they retired to the back room. Sadie threw some travel brochures on the table.

"Let's take a look through these," she said, "and start thinking about where we want to go. I'm thinking Italy and Spain but I'm open to suggestions."

They were deep into a discussion on the pros and cons of the various spots that Sadie knew to be rich in junk and treasure when she looked at her phone and realized she was going to be late to her meeting with Mandy.

"Oh heck," she said. "I've got to go. We can talk more later. Anyway, we should include Lucy."

She grabbed her coat, left Mr. B asleep on his bed under her desk in the office and headed out the door. She drove like a mad woman and managed to be only five minutes late when she walked into the student-filled café.

She scouted the tables while she stood in line, searching for a table with a single woman. There weren't any, but she just figured Mandy must be running even later than she was. However, when Sadie paid and turned around to look for a place to sit, a young woman extracted herself from a group and waved her arm at Sadie.

They found a table at the back of the room where they could at least hear each other speaking and sat down. Sadie noticed Mandy was drinking a frosted drink. It looked chocolate and very inviting.

"What's that you are drinking?" she asked.

"A chocolate, chocolate chip frappe," Mandy said. "I'm addicted."

She took another sip. "Heaven. But what can I do for you, Ms. Barnett? You said you had some questions...?"

"Call me Sadie. Your name came up in a conversation about sororities and I’d like your opinion about rush,” Sadie lied. “I’d like to hear your views.”

“My views on sororities? I think they’re crap. You couldn’t pay me enough money to rush. That’s my opinion on sororities,” she said.

“You never rushed?” Sadie asked.

“Not once. Not even for a little bit. I have no desire to be affiliated with a bunch of girls I have nothing in common with. I really don’t understand the attraction,” Mandy said.

“Community,” Sadie said, “and knowing someone’s got your back. The responsibility of also having their back. Mutual positive regard, even if your belief systems, politics or religions don’t match up. Being in a sorority has taught me not to judge others and to be open to ideas contrary to my own.”

“Oh, you’re a sorority… sister. I’m sorry if I offended you,” Mandy said, backpedaling hurriedly.

Sadie had the impression that ‘sister’ wasn’t the term Mandy usually paired with sorority. She decided not to ask what word she normally chose.

“I’m not offended,” she said. “I don’t expect everyone to agree with me, but I wanted you to know there are benefits to belonging to a community of people who you might not normally gravitate toward. That’s all I was saying.”

“I hope you don’t think I look down on women who belong to sororities,” Mandy reiterated, “just because I don’t have any use for them.”

Sadie smiled. “It’s okay,” she said. “I meant it when I said my sorority helped me to develop respect for people who don’t feel the way I do. It’s really okay for you not to have any use for them. Do you mind telling me what your major is, what you hope to do when you graduate?”

Sadie spent another fifteen minutes listening to Mandy’s plans for life, and then they shook hands and parted ways. Sadie sighed, that interview had netted her exactly nothing. Before she drove back to the shop, she called the next girl on her list, Tandy Smith, and arranged to meet her at the campus cafeteria later that evening.

Back at the shop, Sadie found Lucy and Betty pouring over maps of Western Europe while Mr. B stood in a chair watching with his feet on the table. Sadie shot him a look and he removed his paws from the table one at a time.

“You know,” Lucy was saying as Sadie walked in, “if we’re going to both Italy and Spain we might as well stop in France on the way through.”

“How long do the two of you want to be gone?” Sadie said, dumping her bag on a chair. “That could take a month.”

“We’re just making sure we make the best use of our time,” Betty said. “I don’t know about Lucy, but I don’t get out of the country much. This may be the only time I get to see any of these places."

"You'll travel again," Sadie said, surprised. "Even if it's just with me."

"What do you mean 'just' with you?" Lucy asked. "Traveling with you is the best. We have more fun."

"I was thinking about Sil," Sadie said. "I think he'd be thrilled to travel with Betty. He's bound to be saving a bunch of money."

Sil was living in a shared house in Boston while he got some experience as a cop. He was planning on taking a job in Seagrove as soon as one became available.

"He's traveled so much," Betty said, "I'm not sure he wants to bother anymore."

"I'd think he'd love to take you to some of the places he's been," Sadie said. "He must have seen some interesting places when he was with the circus."

"Well she's going to see some fabulous places with us, aren't you Betty?" Lucy said. "We've been researching the best places for buying and then plotting all the sights to see that are near enough to go to. We are going to have a blast."

"We have a blast even when we don't see the sights," Sadie said. "I'm so glad you are coming with us, Betty."

"What's going on with the woman in the lake?" Betty asked. "Are you getting anywhere?"

"Not really, but I can feel that I'm getting close. I'm going to see Tandy Smith later. Do you two want to come?" Sadie asked.

"I can't," Lucy said, sulking a little. "I've got a jewelry show this evening. Got to pay the bills."

“I’ll come,” Betty said, “If it’s after store hours. We do need to
try
keeping some normal hours.”

“The shop ran perfectly well when I didn’t have you to keep it open,” Sadie said.

“Except you barely made a profit. Now you can afford to take us with you to Europe. You couldn’t have done that two years ago.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Sadie said, but she couldn’t keep a straight face. Hiring Betty was one of the smartest things she had ever done. The unsinkable Betty she thought.

"What?" Lucy asked.

"Huh?" Sadie responded.

"You said something," Lucy said "but I couldn't understand."

"That's odd," Sadie said. "I was thinking
the unsinkable Betty.
You know - like the unsinkable Molly Brown -- but I didn't think I'd said it out loud."

"What's the unsinkable Molly Brown?" Betty asked.

"I think it was a movie. It was something my mother referenced when I was growing up. But I never actually knew exactly what she meant. However, if anyone is unsinkable it's Betty."

"I am rather unsinkable," Betty said and smiled. "I like that about myself."

"We like it, too," Lucy said.

"Because we all are fabulous, but I've just noticed the time and I have to get out of here." She gathered up her purse, cell phone, and travel mug.

"Let me know what you learn tonight." She hustled out of the room.

What Sadie and Betty saw wasn’t what they expected. Tandy met them in the café at the college after a chemistry class. She had a shaggy head of mouse brown hair and marks around her eyes from the protective goggles.

“You’ll have to excuse me,” she said, wiping bits of ash from her shirt. “I had a bit of excitement in the chemistry lab. There are some things you just shouldn’t put in the Bunsen burner.”

The three women sat at a round table away from the other students to avoid having to yell to hear each other.

“Thank you for meeting me,” Sadie said.

“This is Betty, my friend and assistant, and this,” she pointed to Mr. Bradshaw, “is my dog. Say hello Mr. Bradshaw.”

Mr. Bradshaw sat, barked once politely, and raised a paw. Tandy laughed and bent down to shake it. Then he gave her a tiny lick of acceptance and curled into a ball under Sadie’s chair. Sadie looked at Betty and raised her eyebrows. Betty shrugged. If Mr. Bradshaw accepted Tandy, it was highly unlikely she’d killed Sylvia.

“I’ve heard there were some irregularities during rush this year,” Sadie said. “Did you participate?”

“I did rush,” Tandy said.

“And one of the sororities seemed particularly brutal, so I didn’t stay. I practically was guaranteed a spot in my first choice, so if I didn’t like what was going on I didn’t bother with it. I love the sorority I got into. My sorority sisters are fabulous, but I wasn’t convinced I needed to be in a sorority to begin with. So if things had gone poorly, I would’ve been okay. I mean, I like where I’m at but I would’ve been okay unaffiliated. It’s just not that big of a deal. And anyway, I spend all my time in the chemistry building with the rest of the nerds. I hardly ever see my sorority sisters.”

“Did you ever meet Sylvia Jones?” Betty asked.

“I might have,” Tandy said, “but if I did, I don’t remember her. Isn’t she the girl they found in the lake?”

“That’s right,” Sadie said. “She belongs to the sorority that had the troubles with rush. We think that incident may have had something to do with her death. We don’t know for sure.”

“I could ask around,” Candy said, “if you think it would help.”

“No, I don’t.” Sadie said quickly. “I think asking around only would put you at risk. Please, just forget about it. If something happened to you, I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

“Yes,” Betty said, “if you were harmed we’d be complicit. I’ve got enough guilt already.”

“Bueno,” Tandy said. “I won’t breathe a word of it. I have no desire to get roped into somebody else’s cray-cray.”

“Thank goodness,” Sadie said. “I like a girl with a little bit of sense. Now tell me, what were you doing in the chemistry lab that got you covered in ash?”

BOOK: A Wrongful Drift (Seagrove 8)
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