Murder on Consignment (14 page)

I gulped some more. It was definitely stuck.

“Are you okay?” my sister asked, concern turning to alarm.

I couldn’t respond. I started to see do
ts. No air. I moved my hands to my throat; the universal signal for choking to death.

None of the Farrells made a move to help.

Thank goodness for my sister. In an instant she was positioned behind me. With amazing strength and virulence, she placed her fists around my mid-section and hoisted inward and upward. 

The green leafy glob shot across the table and landed right next to JimDog’s plate.

I plopped back in my chair, gasping for air. After a few seconds of deep breathing, my vision started to clear. Looking about, I could see that everyone but J.J. and Mary Frances had left the room.

“Where’d everyone go?” I sputtered.

J.J. regarded me strangely and broke into laughter. “Did you really expect them to stick around after you mentioned the name Sokolov?” He laughed some more. His round little mouth stretching wide enough for me to see he had two gold fillings in his back molars. “That Russian woman has plagued this family for years. Really, as smart as my father is in business, he’s stupid when it comes to women. Calina Sokolov was the biggest mistake he ever made.”

“You know that she passed away recently. Cancer,” I inserted.

J.J.’s joviality dimmed for a split second. “No, I didn’t know. But, I’m not sorry to hear it. I’m glad to have her out of our lives.”

“It must have been hard on your mother to know that there was another woman in your father’s life,” Mary Frances said.

An unrecognizable emotion flashed across J.J.’s face. He recomposed quickly and shrugged. “I guess she thought it was worth putting up with his little side activity in order to keep her lifestyle.” 

“How’d that make you feel?” my sister asked. She was slipping into psychiatrist mode.

J.J. was fidgeting with his fork, turning it over and over. I was actually beginning to feel sorry for the guy. “I got used to it,” he said. “It didn’t really make much difference to me.”

“Still, I’m sure
it must have been difficult to know your father was unfaithful.” My sister was speaking in her soothing, Sisterly voice.

I, on the other hand, was growing impatient with her line of questioning. I was here for information, not a discussion and support group.

“Did you know that Calina had a son and that he may be your half-brother?” I threw out.

J.J. turned to me, his eyes full of rage. Once again, I should have stayed quiet. I just couldn’t help myself. Mary Frances was soothing while I was as tactless as … well … at this moment I felt like one of those wacky day-time talk hosts revealing the results of a paternity test to one promiscuous woman and ten
wanna-be daddies.

J.J. slammed his fork against the table. “What? A child? He had a child with her?”

Hum … guess he didn’t know
.

He picked up his fork again and began jabbing it in my direction. “I don’t believe that for one second. What proof do you have?” 

“Uh.” I looked toward Mary Frances for help. She seemed busy folding and refolding her napkin. “Well, actually, I don’t have any substantial proof. It’s really just a rumor.”

J.J. stood abruptly, sending his chair tumbling to the floor. “Why don’t you mind your own business?” With that, he flung the fork onto the middle of the table and stomped out of the room.

Mary Frances raised her brows. “That went well.”

“Yeah, well …” I looked around at the empty room. “Guess we’d better be going, huh?” 

We headed for the door finding Anna waiting in the foyer with our coats. As I reached for mine, I tried making eye contact with her. Maybe she’d be sympathetic to my plight and offer information that would be pertinent to the case. However, my hopes were dashed when she raised her chin and shot me a disapproving look down her nose. Old pinch-face wasn’t going to open up to me. She knew on which side her bread was buttered.

Once outside, I took a deep cleansing breath. The chilly fall air was a welcomed relief to the heavy tenseness inside the house.

Before Mary Frances got into her car, I offered an apology. “Hey, Sis, I’m sorry if I’m creating problems between you and the Farrells. I know they’re benefactors, and after all this they may withdraw their offer to match the funds raised at the sale.”

She smiled. “Are you serious? Don’t apologize for trying to get to the truth. Besides, this week has been the most exciting week I’ve had in months.” 

I sighed with relief. “Still, I’m sure she’ll renege on her promise to match the funds.”

Mary Frances thought for a second. “I doubt it. She made that announcement in front of all her friends. I don’t think she’d back out. How could she? How would she explain it? Anyway, don’t worry about it. Just be careful. You’ve made some very powerful people angry. If they are murderers, then they may make you their next target.”

She was right. I thought about my parents and all the worry I caused them last time I got involved with dangerous people. I should back off this case and let the professionals do their job. Problem was, I made a promise to Shep and I couldn’t let him down.

I squinted
toward the house just in time to see the shuffling of one of the window blinds on the second floor. I trembled involuntarily. “I’ll see you in the morning, Sis.”

She gave me a quick hug. “You better be there, because after practically accusing her of having an affair and then insulting her family, I don’t think Morgan is going to be too eager to help us.” 

That was a shame, I thought, wondering why she didn’t show for lunch. Despite the fact that she was an adulteress and possibly a cold-blooded murderer, Morgan was good at sorting and marking.

My stomach
started rumbling before I made it to the freeway. Foraging through my ashtray, I was able to scrape together two seventy-five, enough for two items off the dollar menu.

I ordered through the drive through and then pulled over and ate my sandwich in the parking lot. Afterwards, I decided to head back to my apartment and put in a couple of hours of work. I’d have to be more careful about my work, or I’d be doomed to eating off the dollar menu for the rest of the month.
When I finally pulled into the alley, I was surprised to find it blocked by two police cars.

Chapter 16

“What’s going on here?” I asked, finding my parents by the garage, talking to a uniformed officer.

They turned to me, their faces showing relief. My mother hugged me. “Thank goodness you’re okay,” she said.

“Yes, we thought maybe you
had been abducted,” my dad added.

“Abducted?”

My mother still had her arms wrapped around me. “Where have you been?  We were trying to call you.”

“I didn’t get any calls,” I said, flipping my phone open. Oops, it was dead. “What’s going on?” 

The officer, who had been silent up to now, jumped in. “It seems that someone has ransacked your residence.”

“My apartment?”

“That’s right,” Mom interjected. “I came up to get the dress. The wedding is only a few days away, remember? I figured you probably haven’t had time to get it pressed. I was going to take care of it for you.”

She was right. I hadn’t thought to press it. In fact, the last time
I saw that dress was when I inadvertently wore it to the hospital to visit Shep. I wasn’t quite sure what I had done with it after that; but, there was a good chance that I hadn’t bothered to hang it up neatly.

“And,” she continued. “When
I opened your door, I saw someone had torn the place up. I called the police immediately.”

I shook my head. “Uh, oh.” I smiled apologetically at the officer. “This is all a misunderstanding. Really. You see, I’ve had this incredibly hectic week and I
haven’t had much time to keep things picked up.” I indicated toward my mother. “Naturally, she would think it looked like someone had ransacked the place. My mom is really a neat freak and—”

“
Pippi, come up here.” I looked up to see Sean at the top of my stairs.

I scurried up the steps and stopped short inside my doorway. I stood, unable to process what was before me.

Sean placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Pippi.” 

My entire apartment was destroyed: Clothing bins were emptied; paperwork torn and scattered, my computer and television smashed, DVD’s out of their cases and broken. In the kitchen, every item was opened and dumped out. Flour dusted almost every surface. My walls looked like some deranged contemporary artist had created one of those dark, disturbing modern renditions with ketchup, must
ard, and chocolate syrup. To top it all off, a couple of two liters of soda were emptied onto my countertops.

I wanted to scream or cry … or something, but all I could do was stand and stare. Who would have done this? 

“Any idea who would have done this?” Sean asked, mirroring my own thoughts.

I knew it had to be one of the Farrells. They must have been so ticked off after lunch that they came over to my place and trashed it. They worked fast, that’s for sure.

I was considering how much to tell Sean. “I may have made one of the Farrells mad.”

“Angry enough to trash your place?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” 

“Tell me about it,” he said, motioning for me to sit down on my couch, which had been repeatedly slashed. Stuffing popped out of every torn crevice. It was starting to dawn on me just how much time and money it wa
s going to take to get this cleaned up. It made me so angry that I decided to spill everything I knew, including the bit about working at the garage sale to get closer to the Farrells. He could laugh at my theories if he wanted, but I needed someone to know all the details in case the lunatic that destroyed my house decided to come after me personally.  

“As you know, I’ve been checking on a few thin
gs for Shep,” I started. He leaned back and was regarding me with a perturbed look. “Anyway, I already told you I was convinced that James Farrell was somehow involved, or at least one of his family members. Well, part of my cover is this garage sale for St. Joan’s Parish.”

“Cover?”

“Yes, I’m on the sorting and marking committee with Morgan Farrell. She’s married to James Junior, but we call him J.J. So, oh … I need to back up a bit. I think the books that were sold in the Sokolov estate are the reason Jane Reynolds and Pauline were murdered, but I guess I already told you that. What I didn’t tell you was Owen, he works for Shep, was on shift with Pauline the day she was killed and he saw Pauline find something in one of the books. An envelope. Although, Pauline’s boyfriend, Tanner, thought Pauline had said it contained a legal document of some sort, or at least something really important. She may have tried to locate the owner of the envelope from the names on the document. I’m not sure. But, I
am
sure Tanner didn’t have anything to do with Pauline’s murder. He really loved her, I can tell. Anyway, I followed Morgan to the Huntley last night and I think she met Alex Sokolov, that’s Calina’s illegitimate son fathered by James Farrell. Remember when I told you they had been having an affair for over twenty years? At any rate, when I was at the Huntley, I caught a glimpse into Alex’s room and saw a pair of legs and I believe they belonged to Morgan. Then, today at the parish hall, I mentioned it to her and she became really angry.”

“
Hold on,” Sean said, raising a hand and shaking his head. “So you think Morgan Farrell did this? Why didn’t you tell me about this envelope before?”

“I wasn’t sure it was
important.” Or, really, that he’d take it seriously. “But as far as Morgan being the killer … well maybe … but it could have been any of the Farrells. You see, today at lunch, they all became angry when I mentioned Alex Sokolov’s name. Except Morgan. She wasn’t there. But, JimDog became especially angry. Maybe angry enough to come over and do this. Then, I told J.J. that he may have an illegitimate brother, which inspired him to throw a fork.”

“At you?”

“No. Just at the table. Quite frankly, I think the whole family is messed up. Although, now that I’m thinking about it, it probably wasn’t J.J. because he wouldn’t have had enough time. Patricia and James left the table early though, right as I was choking to death, but I’m fine now.  However, after leaving the Farrell's I was still hungry, so I stopped by and picked up a little something before heading back here. So, in theory, either one of them, maybe even J.J., would’ve had time to drive over here and trash the place.”

Sean didn’t comment. He simply sat staring at me with a strange look on his face. All around us, police technicians gathered evidence and dusted for prints.

My parents came in. My dad had a cell phone in his hand. “I just called insurance. I think that our homeowners will cover most of this. They’re sending an estimator over this afternoon.” He patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry, honey, we’ll get this taken care of.”

“Oh my goodness,” my mother commented. “Here’s the dress! Look, it’s not damaged at all!” She smiled broadly and held up the dress for all to see. Sure enough, it was completely undamaged. Just my luck.

Sean spoke up. “Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien, I need to take your daughter to my office to make a statement. I’ll bring her back here in a few hours. The techs should be done by then, so we can start putting everything back in order.”

I noticed
he said ‘we’. I guess that meant he was going to help with the cleaning. Mom and Dad must have heard the same thing. They shook his hand gratefully. “We’ll order pizza. I’m sure we can trust that you’ll make it your priority to find out who did this,” my Dad added.

“Absolutely,” Sean replied.

“Do you think the techs will turn up something?” I asked, a few minutes later when we were in his car.

“I doubt it. Even if we did get prints, they would have to be in the system for us to make a match. Plus, the officers checked around your neighborhood and no one saw anything unusual. It doesn’t help that the garage and the entrance to your apartment
are so secluded. Have your parents ever considered cutting down that privet hedge or a few of the trees in their backyard?”

I shrugged. Up until now, I’d always liked the fact that my parents couldn’t see what I was up to in my apartment.

He continued, “To think I thought you’d be too busy with the St. Joan’s sale to get into trouble.”

I didn’t comment.

“I guess I should have known better. It seems you’ve been getting quite involved with the Farrells. Do you have any specific evidence connecting them to either of these murders? That is, besides the leg you saw or the fact that James Farrell has a Russian book in his den?”

I squinted at him. For some reason I didn’t like his tone. What was with his condescending attitude? “No, but I will eventually. Why, do you have any leads on the investigation? Any other suspects? Any evidence?” I threw it right back at him.

He closed his mouth and refocused on the road, causing me to think he hadn’t found any new leads either.

A couple of minutes later we pulled into his parking space. We didn’t really talk again until we were positioned at an oblong wooden table in a very non-descript room. Another officer, a pretty young female
cop, joined us. She’d brought a recorder and a laptop and introduced herself as Officer Garcia.

For the next hour and half, I answered all of Sean’s questions while Officer
Garcia typed notes on her computer. As it turned out, the interview had less to do with my apartment break-in as it did with my current investigation. Sean questioned me about every possible detail concerning Pauline’s death, including the lunch I had with the Farrells. This led me to believe that he must have thought I was onto something. Although, it was hard to tell. Sean wasn’t always the most open person.

By six-thirty, we were heading back to my apartment. The mood between us had lightened and it almost seemed like the ‘old’ days when we used to spend our evenings hanging out together.

When we reached the apartment, I was surprised to find a whole crew working on cleaning up the place. Mom had rallied the troops. Mary Frances was there, along with two of my other sisters, Anne and Kathleen, who both lived about a half hour away. I was touched they’d dropped everything and driven over to help. They even brought a couple bags of groceries to restock my fridge. I had a great family.

Once some order was
restored, I started accessing the damage. It would take a few days to get my inventory reorganized and ready to sell, but luckily, the few items I was preparing to ship were untouched.

The worse thing was my computer. Without it, I couldn’t run my business. Hopefully I could find a replacement and resto
re my files from the damaged machine.  This was going to set me back a couple of weeks. However, what really got me was the fact that my space had been violated. It would be a while before I’d feel completely safe again. My parents must have been thinking along the same lines. When the job was done and everyone dispersed, my Dad pulled me aside. “Your mother and I think it would be best if you moved back into the house for a while. We’re not sure who did this and what their intent is. What if you would have been here when they ransacked the place? They might have hurt you.”

I struggled for an answer. On one hand, I didn’t want to remain in my apartment alone, but giving up my privacy and moving back in with my parents seemed like a little much. I was stammering for a reply when Sean intervened. “I’ve already made arrangements for an officer to be posted in the back alley at night. During the day, I’ll have someone drive by periodically to check on things.”

That seemed to satisfy my parents. They were relieved to know someone would be watching out for me. I silently wondered how Sean’s department was going to justify the extra man-power it would take to embark on a twenty-four hour watch of my place.

*

The next morning, I got my answer. I skipped down my steps bright and early to find Sean asleep in his car. I tapped on his window.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Uh oh, what time is it?” he questioned, sitting up and rubbing his face. I glanced passed him into the car. A thermos and several crumpled Styrofoam cups littered the passenger side.

“You slept out here all night?”

“Obviously. I have to get going though. I’ve got to be in by roll call at 9:00,” he said, starting the car and putting it into gear. He didn’t offer any more explanation before pulling out of my alley.

I stared afte
r him. Maybe he really did love me. I wanted to believe his actions demonstrated his feelings for me. Although, with Sean, I could never be sure. Quite honestly, I didn’t have time to worry about all that now. I had way too much to do.

As we suspected, Morgan was a no-s
how at the parish hall. However, even without her help, Mary Frances and I made quick work of sorting and marking. The morning passed quickly. After leaving the church, I decided to run a few personal errands, the first being shopping for a new computer. And, what better place to start my search than the Mega Electronic Mart in Skokie, which, as I had learned at lunch yesterday, just happened to be the site of the new JimDog restaurant.

For the next hour and fifteen minutes I maneuve
red my way slowly northeast. Traffic was stop and go for the first half-hour. According to the traffic report, a delivery truck plowed into the I-294 toll plaza. Guess the guy didn’t want to pay his toll. I could relate to that.