A.L. Jambor - Where's Audrey? (7 page)

The DMV was crowded. They got a number and waited until it was called. They went to the desk and Conner smiled at the woman and flashed his badge.

“I was wondering if you could help me,” he said.

“In an official capacity?” the woman asked. Her name badge said “Connie.”

“Ah, yes. I need current titles for someone named Jason Frye.”

She began to type. “Is there a middle name?”

He went back to Jason, Jr.’s mug shot on his phone. “John.”

She typed for a minute. “July 8, 1952.”

“That’s the father,” Mel said.

“Wait, there’s two,” Connie said. “The other one is January 5, 1980.”

“Are they both on the title?” Conner asked.

“No. And I can’t tell which one did the transfer,” Connie said. “The middle initial is the same, and the title doesn’t have junior or senior listed.”

“Shit,” Mel said under her breath.

“What’s the address on their DLs?” Conner asked.

She typed. “It’s the same on both.”

Connie printed out the information and slid it across the desk. The address was the same as Audrey’s mobile home.

“Does that tell you when they got them?”

“Date of issue is September 2,” Connie said.

“Didn’t Penny say that was when the registration was due?” Mel asked.

“Didn’t they need some sort of ID to register the home?” Conner asked.

“Yes, they would have to show their driver’s license or a utility bill with their name on it, but not for the seller, only for the buyer.”

“Can you print the original paperwork they brought in?” Mel asked.

“I’m not sure,” Connie said. Conner smiled.

“It would really help us,” he said.

“Ah, okay.” Connie scrolled through the papers Jason Frye brought in when he registered the home. They had been scanned into the computer. She printed out the application and a copy of a driver’s license.

Conner and Mel looked at the signature at the bottom of the application and the signature on the driver’s license. Jason Frye, Jr. had signed the application. Now they knew it was Jason, Jr. who had forged Audrey’s signature on the title transfer.

“We may have probable cause for a warrant,” Conner said.

“Really?” Mel said.

“Really. Can I have a copy of the older Frye’s DL?”

Connie printed out a copy of the older Frye’s driver’s license and slid it across the desk.

After they left the DMV, Conner was quiet. He was going over the clues in his head. If he had doubts about whether Audrey was dead or alive before, he didn’t anymore.

“I can’t believe they got away with this,” Mel said.

“They haven’t yet,” Conner said. “I’m still wondering where the old man is. I didn’t see him at the home the other day.”

“Me either.”

When they got to the car, Conner took out the paperwork they had just collected and looked at all the signatures.

“There are two distinctly different signatures,” he said. “The kid signed as Audrey.”

“Let’s go talk to the manager of the park. They would have had to meet the man buying the home, right? To see if he was old enough?”

“And the lease would have his signature on it. Good thinking.”

Mel blushed and smiled. She was warming up to Conner in a big way.

The lobby in the park office had been decorated for the season and a large Christmas tree stood in the center. Mel hadn’t noticed it the day before and when she saw it, she sighed.

“I wish I was home for Christmas,” she said. “My grandmother will miss me.”

“Maybe we’ll get this wrapped up by then,” Conner said.

There was another older woman sitting at the desk.

“Can I help you?” she said.

“Can I speak to the manager?” Mel asked.

“Maybe I can help you,” the woman said.

“No, I have to see the manager.”

The woman frowned and pushed herself away from the desk. She made a show of getting up, grunting and sighing, then walked to a door. She went inside, then came back and sat down.

“Give her a minute,” she said.

Mel and Conner stood in front of the desk until a younger woman appeared at the door to the office.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Nancy. How can I help you?”

“Can we go into your office?” Conner asked. He flashed his badge.

“Sure.”

She took them to her office and closed the door. There were two chairs in front of another gray metal desk and they sat while she took her seat behind it.

“Now,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

“My aunt owns a home here. Her name is Audrey Glenn. We haven’t heard from her in a while, and now I found some guy living in her house.”

“Really,” Nancy said. “Which number?”

“298,” Mel said.

Nancy typed and pulled up the info for 298. “That home is owned by a Jason Frye. This lists the previous owner as Audrey Glenn.”

“When did she sell the trailer?” Conner asked.

“They are
manufactured
homes,” Nancy said, with a slight edge in her voice.

“When did she sell the
home
?” he said.

“September. I’ve only been here for two months. My predecessor handled the transaction. She didn’t keep very good records, which is why she no longer works here. I’ve spent a lot of time cleaning things up.”

“Have you met Jason Frye?” Mel asked. “He’s like thirty.”

“That’s impossible,” Nancy said. “Even the former manager couldn’t have allowed a man that age to sign a lease. The actual owner has to be over fifty-five.”

“But does that mean someone under fifty-five can live there alone?”

“No. Unless it was temporary. We have rules. Even a widow under fifty-five has to leave, unless she’s close to fifty-five. We have made some exceptions, but they’re rare.”

“I’ve got news for you, lady,” Mel said. “That guy is living there alone and he’s not fifty-five.”

Conner put a hand on Mel, who looked as if she wanted to grab Nancy by the throat.

“Do you have a copy of the lease Jason Frye signed?” Conner asked.

Nancy pushed herself away from her desk and rolled over to a filing cabinet directly behind her. She looked through some files and found the lease for 298. She rolled back to the desk and handed it to Conner. He pulled out the driver’s licenses for the Fryes and compared them to the lease.

“It’s the old man,” he said. “He signed the lease.”

“Have
you
ever met Jason Frye?” Mel asked Nancy.

“No, I’m afraid not. I’ve been so busy since taking over I haven’t had a chance to meet all the residents. There are over
six hundred
, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know. Thank you for telling me.”

“Can I have a copy of this?” Conner asked.

“Sure,” Nancy said. She got up and went to the all-in-one printer on the bookcase next to the filing cabinet and made him a copy of the lease. When she handed it to him, she held it.

“Are you sure there was no one over fifty-five living there?” she asked Conner.

“Not absolutely sure, but the younger guy was alone when I went there yesterday.”

“The owner could have been out,” Nancy said.

“The car was in the driveway,” Conner said.

“He could have been at the pool,” Nancy said.

“Why don’t you go over there and see for yourself?” Mel asked.

“Thanks, Nancy,” Conner said. He stood and looked at Mel. She stood, and then followed him out the door.

“I didn’t like her,” Mel said. “She’s full of shit.”

“Yes, but we may need her. It’s always better to keep them on your side.”

“Do you believe the old guy ever lived there? I mean, wouldn’t someone have mentioned him? Marge never said anything about an older man, and neither did the old man or the mean girl women I talked to.”

“Maybe we should talk to Marge together,” Conner said.

“She’s always on the porch,” Mel said.

Chapter 9

The sky had grown cloudy while they were in the office.

“It’s gonna rain,” Conner said.

Marge was at her station on the porch and Maurice was barking.

“Shut up, Maurice,” Marge yelled when she saw them pull up. She recognized Mel and Conner from the day before.

“Hi, Marge,” Mel said as they walked up to the porch. “This is Deputy O’Keefe. He wanted to ask you some questions.”

“Deputy, huh? It’s about time one of you came to talk to me.”

“Any particular reason we should be talking to you?” Conner asked.

“The girl knows. We talked this morning.”

“Marge,” Mel said. “Have you ever seen another man living in my aunt’s house?”

“What do you mean?” Marge asked.

“An older man, say, around sixty,” Conner said.

“No. Just the kid. I complained to Bea about it.”

“Who’s Bea?” Conner asked.

“The manager,” Marge said.

“The manager’s name is Nancy,” Mel said.

“Not that one, the one before. I told her that kid didn’t belong here. He was doing something to annoy Maurice and I wanted him out.”

“What did she say?” Conner asked.

“She said what she always said, that she’d look into it. The woman never did a damn thing the whole time she was here.”

Conner was watching the dog. He kept sniffing, then barking, and his eyes were trained on something across the street.

“How long has Maurice been barking?” Conner said.

“Three months.”

“And you’re sure you’ve never seen an older man living there?”

“I’ve never seen anyone but that boy. Are you gonna do something to get him out?”

“We’re working on it,” Conner said. “Thanks for your help.”

“Yeah,” Marge said. “You’re working on it.”

“Bye, Marge,” Mel said.

They went back to the car and Conner took out his notebook. Mel watched Audrey’s home as he filled in his notes.

“Why would a dog bark when he didn’t before?” she asked. “What would make him do that?”

“He was sniffing a lot,” Conner said. “He smells something he doesn’t like.”

“Coming from my aunt’s house?”

Conner nodded. “We have to get inside again, but I’d rather do it with a warrant. If we find something, we have to be able to use it later on.”

Mel started crying. “I didn’t even know her.”

“She’s still family. And, how old was she?”

“She was in her nineties.”

For the third time since they met in the parking lot that morning, Conner put his hand on hers. She liked the way it felt. “You have a right to be concerned. She was pretty old.”

“She wouldn’t have been able to fight him off.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

Mel smiled. “Again? Really? No, I’m not.”

“Well, I could go for some ice cream.” Conner started the car and backed out of the street, turned left, and drove to Ulmerton Road. “There’s a creamery place in the mall.”

Mel did order a chocolate chip cone. It took her mind off Audrey for a few minutes, that and watching Conner eat a banana split.

“That was good,” he said, wiping fudge off his mouth. “I think I’m gonna go to my office and see if I can get a warrant.”

“Can I go with you?” Mel asked.

“Why don’t you go see your friend in Clearwater? I’ll call you if they agree to a warrant.”

“She’s probably on the beach right now,” Mel said.

“But she has a phone with her, right?”

“Yeah, she should.”

“Call her. It’ll be good for you to see someone else for a few hours.”

But I like being with you
, she thought. “Okay. You promise you’ll call me?”

“As soon as I know. Hey, give me the paperwork you’ve got.”

She pulled the papers she had out of her purse and put them on the seat. He dropped her off at her car. She waved as he pulled away. When she got into her car, she dialed Lisa.

“Hey, it’s me,” Mel said.

“Where are you? I thought you were coming today.”

“I got stuck here. My aunt is missing.”

“Well that sucks.”

“A nice cop is helping me. I have a little time while he works on something and thought I’d come over.”

“Great. I’m on the beach, but you’ll never find us. I’ll go back to the condo so I can bring you over.”

“Who’s with you?”

“A friend from work, Sandy.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you in a few.”

Mel pulled up the GPS on her iPhone. It had the condo address on it so all she had to do was touch the screen and follow it to Clearwater Beach.

Chapter 10

The sky had grown cloudy while they were in the office.

“It’s gonna rain,” Conner said.

Marge was at her station on the porch and Maurice was barking.

“Shut up, Maurice,” Marge yelled when she saw them pull up. She recognized Mel and Conner from the day before.

“Hi, Marge,” Mel said as they walked up to the porch. “This is Deputy O’Keefe. He wanted to ask you some questions.”

“Deputy, huh? It’s about time one of you came to talk to me.”

“Any particular reason we should be talking to you?” Conner asked.

“The girl knows. We talked this morning.”

“Marge,” Mel said. “Have you ever seen another man living in my aunt’s house?”

“What do you mean?” Marge asked.

“An older man, say, around sixty,” Conner said.

“No. Just the kid. I complained to Bea about it.”

“Who’s Bea?” Conner asked.

“The manager,” Marge said.

“The manager’s name is Nancy,” Mel said.

“Not that one, the one before. I told her that kid didn’t belong here. He was doing something to annoy Maurice and I wanted him out.”

“What did she say?” Conner asked.

“She said what she always said, that she’d look into it. The woman never did a damn thing the whole time she was here.”

Conner was watching the dog. He kept sniffing, then barking, and his eyes were trained on something across the street.

“How long has Maurice been barking?” Conner said.

“Three months.”

“And you’re sure you’ve never seen an older man living there?”

“I’ve never seen anyone but that boy. Are you gonna do something to get him out?”

“We’re working on it,” Conner said. “Thanks for your help.”

“Yeah,” Marge said. “You’re working on it.”