Cracked to Death (12 page)

Edward and Savannah exchanged a knowing look.

Savannah said, “Is that when it became more serious?”

“Everything moved very fast after that.” Amanda spoke quickly. “It was the next morning when I realized that I hadn't told anyone about him. But at the time, it seemed to me that if I told anyone about him, then I might lose him. It's happened before. Mother was always fiercely protective, and she was so ill. Then, the longer things went on, the more difficult it became to say anything.”

“How did Martin feel about the secrecy?” Edward asked.

Amanda looked down and let her fingers follow the grain patterns in the conference table. “He seemed oddly pleased that no one knew about us.” She looked up at Savannah, with tears ready to spill. “I was going to tell you after the workshop was over on Friday.” She looked around at everyone. “Honestly, it was getting very hard to keep it a secret after so many weeks.”

Savannah stood and paced around the room. “This changes everything. Without an alibi, you're going to be at the top of Parker's suspect list. We need to get in front of this very quickly.”

Edward piped up. “I don't see how we can prevent an investigation.”

“I'm not suggesting that we prevent an investigation. Far from it. I think we need to conduct an investigation that will clear Amanda before Parker decides to arrest her.”

“Arrest her!” Jacob said. “But Amanda says she didn't do it.”

Edward reached for the iced tea pitcher and filled his cup. “The police are frequently told that by each suspect. Parker is going to wonder why Amanda didn't tell him immediately that she knew Martin extremely well. I agree with Savannah. We need to pull this together quickly. What's first?”

“We need to find out a lot more about Martin, and our best resource is you.” Savannah pointed at Amanda. “First, where did he live?”

“He lived in a very small travel trailer near the Intracoastal Waterway.” Amanda flushed pink and ducked her head. “I've been there a few times, but no one saw me. It was always very late, and he made sure that none of his neighbors were around.”

“Good.” Savannah rubbed her hands together. “Let's go talk to the neighbors and see if Martin's neighbors are a lot more curious than he thought. Edward and I will handle this.”

“Martin was involved in salvage diving,” Amanda said. “It was one of the few things we disagreed about. He wanted me to get certified for scuba diving, but I'm too afraid of the water. He even took me on one of his salvage trips to watch. I still didn't like it.”

“What boat? That could be a lead,” Savannah said.

“I didn't look at the boat's name, but the owner was Captain Larry Collins of John's Pass Marina. You know, the same Collins that was on the pub crawl.”

Savannah looked over at Edward. “We can check that out after we see where Martin lived.” She gazed at Amanda. “Amanda, I know this will be difficult for you, but you are the best at social media. Could you see what you can find out before all of Martin's sites get removed?”

Amanda sniffed and nodded yes.

“What about me and Suzy?”

“Sorry, Jacob. Nothing for you as yet, but it's early.” Then Savannah stood back, with her arms folded across her chest. “Okay, posse, we're officially on the hunt.”

Savannah looked over at Edward and gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders. “Okay, let's start at the top. I haven't heard anything from Dr. Smithfield yet, so I'll give her a reminder call right after this.”

“Then what?” Amanda asked.

“Next is a trip out to Martin's trailer to talk to his neighbors for me and Edward, and we need to track down Captain Collins. Can you do that this afternoon?”

“Absolutely.” Edward poured himself another iced tea. “I need to stop by Queen's Head for a few minutes, and then I'm free until this evening.”

“Great. I'll pick you up in, say”—she looked down at her watch—“thirty minutes?”

“Perfect.” He gathered the glasses and the pitcher and waited until Amanda had left the conference room and Jacob returned to his workshop. He gave Savannah a kiss on the cheek. “Perfect.”

Edward left on his motorcycle, and Amanda walked back to Webb's Glass Shop, leaving Savannah to go to her office and dial Dr. Smithfield.

“Good afternoon. Dr. Smithfield speaking.”

“Hi. This is Savannah. I wanted to ask if you have heard from your colleague in Bristol about the bottles.”

“I did get some clarifying questions from him, but nothing definitive yet. I may need to send an actual bottle over there, even a fragment would be helpful.”

“Send them over to Bristol?”

“Yes. He hasn't asked for them, but I think we should be prepared for that eventuality.”

“Wow. I don't know if it's possible. The shattered bottle is part of the evidence collected at the scene of Martin's death. So I'll ask Detective Parker. He's in charge of the investigation. I'll let you know. I'll try to get back to you this afternoon.”

“Perfect. It would be good to be prepared with an answer. I expect I'll hear some news early tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks, Dr. Smithfield,” Savannah said, ending the call.

Next, Savannah dialed Detective Parker's cell phone. She hoped it wouldn't make her too late for Edward and try his patience.

“Detective Parker, Homicide.”

“Hi. This is Savannah. I have a question about the cracked bottle you gave me to investigate.”

“Sure, but quickly. I'm on my way to the morgue.”

“Okay. I've contacted a source who believes the bottle was manufactured in Bristol, England, in the late seventeenth century. Her own contact may actually need to have the bottle in hand to confirm it originated from that area. Would it be possible to send it over to him?”

“Yes, it's possible, but administratively, very complicated. We would send it to New Scotland Yard, who would deliver it to the specialist. Do you think it will be necessary?”

“She's not sure yet but wanted to start the process, in case her colleague needs the bottle for confirmation.”

“Understood. I'll—” A distant female voice could be heard through Savannah's phone. “I'll research the process, but I sincerely hope we don't have to go there. Sorry, but I've got to go. Thanks.”

Savannah heard the dial tone and hung up her desk phone.

Her watch indicating she was late, Savannah grabbed her backpack and threw it in the backseat of her Mini.

Chapter 18

 

Savannah drove down to Queen's Head. Edward was pacing out in front of the pub, but he smiled wide when she pulled into the narrow parking lane.

Edward climbed into the car. As he settled into the passenger's seat, Savannah apologized. “I'm sorry. I was talking to Dr. Smithfield.”

“No worries.” Edward raised his eyebrows. “Any word?”

“Nothing yet.”
Hmmm. He does have lots of patience, then.
“She heard from the guy in Bristol, and she asked if it was possible to send over a fragment or even an entire bottle for his analysis.”

“And . . .”

“Then I called Detective Parker to start the process.” She grinned. “It's the first time I've ever heard anyone in real life use the name New Scotland Yard in a conversation.”

“Real life, as opposed to TV life?”

“Yes. Chills!” She held her hand out and faked a tremor.

Edward took her hand and kissed it. “The strangest things make you happy.”

Savannah glanced at the handsome, confident, funny man holding her hand. Unbidden, a shocking thought struck her—this was the happiest she had been in the few months since her father died. It felt very, very good.

After a few wrong turns and several attempts, while giggling, to teach Edward the mapping program on his phone, she pulled up to Martin's tiny trailer. They got out of the Mini, and Savannah noticed a twitch in the curtain of the somewhat larger trailer across the sandy gravel and dirt road. She noted the baby stroller and the toy-strewn yard, then turned to Edward.

“Why don't you go ask the park management about Martin's payment patterns, and I'll tackle the stay-at-home mom?”

“Don't have too much fun!” Edward walked toward the front of the park.

A petite, dark-haired beauty who couldn't have been over twenty years old quickly answered Savannah's knock on the trailer door. “We don't want whatever you're selling.”

“No, I'm not selling anything.” Savannah held out her hand. “My name is Savannah Webb, and I'm a consultant with the St. Petersburg Police Department. I'm investigating Martin Lane's death. I would like to talk with you for a few minutes.”

She felt a little uncomfortable stretching the truth, but if it helped to get people to trust her, she was going to use every tiny edge.

The young woman stood quietly for a long moment. “Sure, I liked Martin, but I hated all the diving stuff. I kept telling him to be careful.”

She backed up into the small space behind her to let Savannah into a clean living room furnished with only a worn love seat and a sagging, comfortable chair, which faced a flat-screen TV on the same wall as the door. The smell of chili bubbling away on the two-burner stovetop caused Savannah's mouth to water.

“Thanks, Miss . . .” Savannah had to bend her head to keep from hitting the ceiling and slumped over a bit.

“Just call me Ashley. Here. Sit in the easy chair.” She smiled easily. “You're a little tall for our camper.” She cleared away some of the toys and tossed them into a wooden picnic basket shoved against the wall under the flat screen. Then she sat on the love seat.

“How long did you know Martin?” Savannah sat, then dug a pen and a notepad out of her backpack and placed it on the floor beside the chair.

“We've been here only about a month. He was already here when we pulled into this lot. He was home at the time and helped us get set up. He was nice about helping out like that. Always helpful.”

“Did he have many visitors?”

“Not very many. Mostly girlfriends.”

“Do you know their names?” Savannah asked.

“No. They never stayed around. He was pretty private.”

“What did they look like?”

“Oh, the one who was here last had wild hair. I loved it. The yellow orange was perfect for her pale face and figure. She was a bit heavy but carried it very well—sexy even.”

Savannah frowned at the perfect description of Amanda. “When was this visit?”

“I'm not sure.”

“Please try to remember.”

“I think it was Monday night, but it might have been Sunday. My husband works at the Walmart on the night shift restocking team. All nights seem alike to me.”

“Thanks, Ashley. Here's my number.” She handed her card over. “Call me if you think of anything else. It sounds like Martin will be missed around here.”

“Yes, especially by the old man next door to him. Martin was always over there helping him out. Leroy has a hard time taking the trash up to the community recycling containers. Martin always took it up for him. I'll be watching out for him now.” Ashley looked closely at the card. “This says you own a glass shop.”

“Yes, I do. I've been consulting with the police department for only a very short time. I haven't had a chance to order professional cards.”

“Oh, well.” Ashley stood and stepped toward the door. “Come back if you need more information. I'm going to miss Martin.”

Savannah ducked her way out of the little trailer. She had walked over to stand by the Mini when she heard the cry of a baby, followed by Ashley cooing. “Good girl. What a good nap. Do you want a snack? Let's get a new diaper first.”

She leaned against the Mini while she waited for Edward. The heat beat down with a vengeance, and the welcome cooling of a quick rain shower remained unfulfilled. The cloying humidity sapped at her will and caused rivulets of sweat to trickle down her back. She was about to get in the Mini and turn the air-conditioning on full blast when the door opened out on the trailer next door.

A wizened, white-haired man leaned out. “Would you like to get out of the heat? I have some fresh iced tea.”

Savannah turned to him. “Absolutely. It's brutal out here.” She walked through the open doorway into a trailer home that was twice as big as Ashley's. “Wow. This is bigger than it looks from the outside.” She didn't have to bend over to get in the door—there were at least six inches of clearance.

The old man used a beautiful wooden cane with a silver fish mounted on the top to get around. He made his way to the kitchen counter and handed her a glass of tea packed full of ice in the traditional Florida way. “Sit yourself down over there. There's a little table for your drink.”

She did as she was bid and gulped down more than half the tea. “Thanks. This is perfect.”

“So, did Ashley give you the answers you were looking for?” He sat slowly in a well-used brown leather recliner covered with a fleece throw.

“How did you—”

“We're a very close little community here at Happy Campers. It's a way of life here. We all look out for each other. So, did she?”

She stalled by taking another sip of her tea. “Not really. She said she couldn't remember who had been to see Martin on Monday night.”

“I'm Leroy, by the way. And you are?”

“Savannah Webb. I'm a consultant with the police.”

He nodded. “Martin was a nice young man. He had a lot of crazy ideas about getting rich quick, but he had a big heart. I'm going to miss him.”

“Did he have friends?” Savannah dug out her notepad and pen. “Ashley said he didn't have many visitors.”

“Well, Ashley is very busy with her beautiful new baby, and her husband is a hard worker but high maintenance, as well. She's always got dinner on the table at five thirty sharp. It's made from scratch, too—none of that prepackaged stuff for them. I'm as likely to throw a frozen dinner in the microwave and call it done.”

“Martin's friends?” she said, reminding him of her question.

“Oh, yes. He used to get a lot of visits from a girl who was quite loud. We always knew when she was here.” He leaned over and whispered in a soft voice, “There's no privacy in these little tin boxes. She loved his fantastical conglomerations. He sold them on the Interweb somehow. I don't know anything about such things.”

“When was she here last?”

“Oh, I hadn't seen her in a few days, and then she stopped by on Tuesday, while he was gone.”

“Did she have a key?”

“Nope, but she knew exactly where he hid it and let herself in as bold as a brass monkey.”

Savannah looked up from her notepad. “Where is the key?” Modifying her tone, she said, “I would like to see if there are more bottles. It could be important to the investigation. The police have already been here and gotten their evidence. It's not taped off.”

He clamped his mouth tight. Then, after a pause, he said, “I don't know about this. If you work with the police, why do you need a key from me?”

“Please?” She used her kindest tone. “I'm actually just a consultant, and this is my first case. I want to do everything I can to find out what happened to Martin. I'm looking for something else that's related, but not something that the police would recognize. I'm trying to identify the origin of some bottles he found. I'm a glass expert.”

“I don't see any harm. It's in a little magnetic box underneath the trailer, on the other side of the wooden steps. It's painted the same color as the trailer, so you need to know where to look.”

“Thanks, Leroy. I appreciate it.”

“Don't you want to know about his girlfriend?”

“Certainly. Ashley mentioned her. When was she here last?”

Leroy furrowed his brow and looked over at the calendar hanging on the wall beside his chair. “Let's see. It was on a Monday night, because that's bingo night up at the recreation center. I won the second jackpot.”

“When did you see her?”

“Well, it was before I left, so it had to be before six thirty. It takes me quite a while to walk over to the center, but I like talking to everyone before the game begins, so I leave pretty early. That detective asked me all these same questions.”

“Of course, but I'm being extra thorough. One last question and then I'll get out of your hair. How long did she stay?”

“Oh, I couldn't say. I'm usually so tired after bingo, I can barely walk all the way back to my door. I didn't notice anything. Sorry, miss.”

Savannah put her head in both hands and shook it.
Exactly what I thought. Why didn't Amanda tell me she visited Martin on Monday evening?