Murder Is Secondary (9 page)

“Follow me, then.” The woman ushered her behind the locked gate which led to the safety deposit boxes. Using Susan’s key as well as the bank key, she opened the box and set Susan up in a small, sterile room.

“Thank you,” said Susan.

“No problem. Just hit the buzzer when you’re finished.”

The tiny room smelled as if someone had given the table a swipe with a Clorox wipe. Susan started to go through the contents. There was an expired passport, her parents’ marriage license, Dad’s death certificate, a social security card, and adoption papers.
Adoption papers
? Susan did a double take as she read the cover of the agreement. What? She turned the pages and realized that these weren’t just adoption papers, they were
her
adoption papers! How was this possible? For sixty-one years she had thought she knew who her parents were. To find out now that they weren’t––when they were both gone, when she couldn’t ask questions or get an explanation––was unbelievable.

She was having trouble processing this. She felt a chill wash through her body. All the clichés bombarded her. Why did her real mother give her up? Who was her birth father? Frantically, she searched through the packet for the names of her real parents. Her head was pounding. To her chagrin, she realized as she read that this had been a closed adoption. Would the adoption agency release the information after all these years? She didn’t even know if the agency still existed. She wondered how difficult it would be to track them down, if they were even alive. There was always the internet. And, oh yeah––she had a daughter who was a detective. She felt shaky. First the news about Tank; now this?

Maybe her real mother had been a drug addict, or in jail when she had her. Maybe she’d suffered from a dreadful genetic disease and hadn’t wanted to see her daughter live a life filled with doctor visits and pain only to eventually die an early death. Didn’t most genetic diseases strike earlier than age 61? Phew, maybe she’d dodged a bullet. Maybe she wasn’t even Scottish. Her thoughts reminded her of a song from the musical Annie…
Maybe far away, or maybe real nearby…
Snap out of it, Susan. Focus.

Did she even want to pursue this? What would be the point? Now her hands were sweating. In a way, she felt as though she’d be betraying her mother’s memory by pursuing her birth mom. Susan knew herself well enough, however, to know that squelching her natural curiosity would be nearly impossible. She took a deep breath and tried to slow down her breathing and her racing heartbeat. Then she thought about her new almost-here grandbaby. What if there was some medical history that might be important? Susan gathered up all the papers and when she felt calm enough to drive, she hit the exit buzzer, signed another form, and went home.

Chapter 24

Vinny’s Pizzeria was an institution in Westbrook. It was classic Italian, complete with red and white checkered tablecloths, a map of Italy on the placemats, and opera music playing in the background. The smell of garlic and oregano greeted you at the door.

Dalia arrived at noon and was seated at a table near the window. The place was buzzing. The dining room was practically full and there was a steady stream of customers at the take-out counter. She studied the menu and drank ice water while she waited for her lunch date.

“Dalia, sorry I’m late,” said Phillip. He gave her a hug and sat down. “You look terrific. Small town living agrees with you. Doesn’t it just make you want to dump that big old mansion back in New Jersey?”

“Someday soon,” she answered.

“Where’s Zach?”

“He’s out horseback riding at the Rocking Horse Ranch. He said he had business to attend to this afternoon but not surprisingly, he was very evasive about what sort of business.”

“He needs to finish and get back to his real job––the one that pays the bills––the one that is funding our future.” He pulled out a cigarette.

“You can’t smoke in here. Put that away. You need to work on quitting.”

“I know, but it’s harder to quit than you’d think.”

“I can’t even stand to look at Zach anymore. The sooner I leave him the better He’d better not screw up our plan.”

“Here’s the waitress. Should we splurge on a nice Italian wine?”

“None for me, thanks. I’ll stick to water.”

The waitress came and took their orders.

“So, Phillip, how long do you plan to stay here in town?”

“I’m going back tonight. Someone has to run the business. Why don’t you come back with me? Why are you staying here anyway?”

“Call it a gut feeling, but I know Zach is up to something. I want to keep tabs on him.”

The waitress brought the food to the table. Dalia offered Phillip a taste of her soup, and he reciprocated by tearing off a piece of his sub.

Dalia shook her head and contorted her face. “No thanks.”

“What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to toss your cookies.”

“Phillip, I might as well tell you. We need to speed up our plan. Six months from now, we have to be free and clear of Zach.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m pregnant. Zach thinks it’s his, that’s why he isn’t abusing me these days––at least not physically.” She watched Phillip’s face closely for a reaction. He paused for a moment, then broke into a smile. Dalia felt relieved. She felt her whole body relax.

“That’s fantastic news. We’re going to be a family. I can’t believe it.”

“We’re a few steps away from that at the moment, but yes, we are. I can’t wait.” She took a spoonful of soup. The waitress placed a black folder with the check on the table.

Dalia scanned the restaurant. A familiar-looking woman came in with a few friends and sat at the table next to Dalia and Phillip.
How do I know her?
Dalia wondered.
Oh, yes, the spa
.
I think she said her name was Julie
. Julie made eye contact with her, then came over to say hello.

“Dalia, right?”

“You remembered. Julie, isn’t it? Nice to run into you again,” said Dalia.

“It’s a teacher workday. These are a few of my colleagues. It’s such a rare treat to be able to go out for lunch. Usually we scarf down our lunches in the teacher planning area. This must be your husband.”

Phillip intercepted by standing up and extending his hand. “I’m Phillip Bachman. Pleased to meet you.” He shook their hands. “Dalia, I need to be going so I can get on the road tonight.” He took out his wallet and paid the bill.

“If you don’t have somewhere to be, you’re welcome to join us,” said Julie. “This is my friend Carol, and this is our media specialist, Janet.”

“Well, maybe I’ll have a cup of coffee before I leave. Do you mind Phillip?” She was getting a bit bored hanging out in her hotel room.

“Of course not. I’ll touch base before I go.”

Dalia had a seat at Julie’s table. “Here, don’t forget your jacket.” She handed it to Phillip. “It’s getting cooler out. Seems like fall has officially arrived.”

“Yes, it has. I’m not sorry to say goodbye to the heat and humidity. It’ll be Halloween soon, then Thanksgiving. The older you get, the faster the time seems to pass,” said Julie.

“I’m flying out to Dallas on Columbus Day weekend to visit my son. Guess I’ll pack some sweaters,” said Janet.

“It’s likely to be warmer out there. The weather is unpredictable out there this time of the year. I lived there when I first married my ex-husband. He was from Texas,” said Julie.

“Ex-husband? I thought you had said your husband died when Joey was just a baby,” said Janet. “Complications from diabetes, right? Isn’t that why Joey got interested in that topic? You know Dalia, Julie’s son just won a national science contest by inventing a screening test for diabetes.”

“That’s what I meant,” said Julie. She rubbed her wrist.

“My husband is also from Texas. Everything’s bigger in Texas––that was his motto. Until we moved to New Jersey,” said Dalia.

“Dalia, it was a pleasure. Maybe we’ll run into each other again. We have to be getting back to school,” said Julie.

When Dalia got back to the Rocking Horse, she was happy to see that Zach was still out. Dalia ran through the events of the afternoon. She was thrilled that Phillip had reacted so enthusiastically to the news of her pregnancy. Things were going exactly as planned.

Then her thoughts turned to her conversation with Julie and her friends. Dalia felt as if Julie was hiding something. For one thing, why had she told Dalia that she had an ex-husband when she’d told her friends that her husband had died? And Julie had that nervous habit of rubbing her wrist. Dalia had remembered seeing that at the spa that day as well as at the restaurant. Julie had a nasty scar there. What had caused it? The scar looked like it had been there a while. Had Julie tried to slit her wrist at one time? And then there was the hair. Julie obviously took care of her appearance. She had seemed to know her way around a spa and her sense of fashion was on the mark. Then why did she do such a lousy job of dying her hair? The dark brown color was drab and unflattering to her fair skin. It seemed off. Dalia’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. He’s hooooome. Zach reminded her of Jack Nicholson’s character in
The Shining
.
So much for a peaceful evening,
she mused.

Chapter 25

Susan was still reeling from both the news that Tank was about to be arrested, and the discovery that she had been adopted. She wasn’t ready to talk about the latter yet––not even with Mike or Lynette. Besides, she didn’t want to add another thing to Mike’s plate right now. She had arranged to pick up Lynette at the station for lunch. Maybe that would get her mind off of the adoption. Mike had already noticed that she wasn’t acting like herself these past few days. She seldom kept secrets from Mike. She hadn’t yet decided if she was going to look for her real––she meant
birth
––parents. She already knew who her real parents were. Mike would encourage her to search for them because he knew she wouldn’t be at peace until she had answers. He knew her awfully well.

Susan walked into the station.

“Hey, Jackson. Is Lynette around?” said Susan.

“Hey ‘Jackson’? Since when do you use my real name, Miss Marple? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just a bit tired. I haven’t been sleeping well these days.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You, on the other hand, look great––there’s a spring to your step.”

“And a song in my heart––must be I’m falling in love.” Jackson laughed.

“You and Theresa make a great couple. I’m glad you two found each other. Are we going to be hearing wedding bells anytime soon?”

“Maybe so. I’ve been looking at rings.”

“Jackson, that’s wonderful. I’m really happy for both of you.”

Lynette came out of her office.

“Any more news about Tank’s arrest?” asked Susan.

“No, we’re still waiting for the paperwork to go through. I feel so awful about this. I know Tank couldn’t have committed murder. There has to be another explanation as to why his handkerchief was there.”

“I still think Danny Trapani may have done this,” suggested Susan.

“He doesn’t have an alibi, but we have nothing linking him to the crime scene. No eyewitness, and no physical evidence. It’s out of our hands,” replied Lynette.

“I guess you’re right.”

“I’m starving, Mom. Let’s go eat. I’m craving Chinese.”

“Fortune Dragon here we come,” said Susan.

Just then the door flew open. It was Amber Bernstein’s father. Susan inhaled the stale smell of smoke as soon as he walked in.

“Mr. Bernstein, I’m going to lunch. I swear that we’re still working on your daughter’s case,” said Lynette.

“That’s not why I’m here. You know that I hired a private investigator. I wanted to share some information that he found with you.”

“What information?”

“My private investigator found a Zip-lock bag buried under some dry leaves at the construction site. It was found near the trailer.”

“Mr. Bernstein, our crime scene investigator…”

“I’m not accusing them of any incompetence. It wasn’t easily visible.”

“What was in the bag?” asked Lynette.

“At first, he thought it was some sort of orange-flavored candy, but then he realized that they were glucose tablets.”

“Glucose tablets? Like diabetics use?”

“Yes. He interviewed the construction crew. None of them are diabetic and no one else should have been at that site.”

“Do you have the bag?”

“It’s right here.” Bernstein pulled a plastic bag out of his pocket. It was carefully wrapped in a handkerchief. He handed it to Lynette. “We were careful not to get our prints on it. Maybe you could run it through the crime lab.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bernstein. We certainly will. Please continue to keep us in the loop.”

“Of course. I want to find my daughter’s killer and if we combine resources, perhaps that can be accomplished.” He turned abruptly and left.

“That’s interesting,” said Susan, watching the departing man.

“Mom, before we go to lunch, let me show you something. Come into my office.”

Susan followed Lynette into her office and Lynette pulled a stack of photographs from her desk drawer. “We found this at the crime scene. The real thing is in the evidence room, but I always take photos if I think I may need to revisit something. Look.”

“What is it? It looks like it came off of a keychain.”

“It did. We found it on the floor of the bulldozer after Amber’s body was discovered. Look closely.”

“It looks like a blue star on a silver background.”

“Exactly. Do you know what that logo is?”

“No. Come on, Lynette. Just tell me.”

“It’s the logo for the Dallas Cowboys. Dallas Cowboys? Diabetes?”

They both said it simultaneously. “Zachary Chichester.”

“How on earth is he connected to Amber’s death?” asked Susan.

“Well, he is involved with the construction project isn’t he? I still doubt he would have been driving the bulldozer though. Not with those shiny Italian boots.”

“Lynette, remember how I told you he has no connection to that project at all. I went out to the site to invite Zachary over for dinner the other day when I was at the school volunteering. None of the workers had ever seen or heard of him.”

“I remember you saying that. We now have two pieces of evidence linking him to Amber’s death. We also know he’s been lying, and that he has a cruel side to him. Remember how he treated his wife? This may be good news for Tank.”

“I felt bad for Dalia at dinner the other night.”

“The thing we are lacking is motive. Tank has motive, so does Danny Trapani, for that matter. But what possible connection does Zach Chichester have to Amber, a 17-year-old high school student in a neighboring state? I’ll run it by Mr. Bernstein.”

“It’s very puzzling. We’ll have to keep investigating until we find the common link.”

“Mom….”

“I mean
you’ll
have to keep investigating.”

“That’s better,” said Lynette, although as she turned away to hide it, Susan saw Lynette smile.

“Now,” said Susan, “I’m thinking my grandbaby wants some eggrolls and sweet and sour chicken.”

“Yes, Mom. I think so too.”