Splitsville.com (21 page)

Twenty-Seven

“Now what happened again?” Bradley questions me over another glass of wine about my debut burglary.

To avoid his stare, I look out the window realizing it’s the time of the year where the night’s darkness comes earlier. “I got out of her house just in time.”

Erin comes out with a lighter to light the torches I have planted around the patio. She looks a lot better than she did this afternoon when I checked on her. She has color in her cheeks, and she’s smiling. Well, maybe smiling is a little strong, but she’s not crying, so she’s good.

I continue with my story. “I completely went around the wrong side of the house to get in my car, so I had to cross the street like I was a walker, only Tramp ran out of her house and started towards me.”

Erin stops shy of lighting the last torch and asks, “
My Kent’s Tramp
?”

I jump around in my seat, “Yes!” I motion for her to sit in the empty chair next to me. Since I am certain Brittany is the killer but doesn’t know exactly who I am, I feel a lot safer sitting outside. “She said the police brought him into the SPCA and she took him home without Bradley knowing.”

“I wondered where he went.” Erin is caught off guard. “I asked the police, but they said there was no dog.” I can see the relief on Erin’s face, the worry she’d been holding in about Kent’s missing dog. “I thought the killer took him.”

“He’s alive and well living with crazy-boots Brittany.”

“She told me the dog was a gift, and I let her bring him to work.” Bradley gets up and paces back and forth. “I can’t believe I didn’t know that was Tramp. He sure cleans up good.”

A red flag shoots up in my head. I put my hand up in the air. “Wait, Kent adopted Tramp at the fund-raiser, but Brittany said she got him from the SPCA and then told you she got him as a gift. Something isn’t adding up.”

Bradley’s eyes squint the way they do when he’s in deep thought. “Hmm.” He rubs his hands through his hair and locks them behind his head. “No, he didn’t come back to the SPCA or I would’ve seen the paper work.”

I bite the corner of my lip. Brittany’s words creep back into my head and send a chill up my spine. “Between you and me,” she’d said. Just another one of her secrets?

Did Tramp really show up at the SPCA after Kent’s death or did she take Tramp after she “offed” Kent?

Bradley continues to squint and he confirms. “Nope, the only paper work I got on his adoption was from the fund raiser at the park.”

I recall the day I went around the kissing booth to pet Tramp. “That’s when Kent started hitting on me for a kiss and I told him the booth was closed.” I slap my hand over my mouth and look over at Erin.

“What?” Erin cries out, “what are you saying?” She jumps to her feet and stands over me like she’s ready to clobber me with the torch lighter. I’ve blown it. That’s what I get by not thinking before I speak.

“Erin, I wasn’t going to tell you since Kent is dead. It wouldn’t do any good and it was before...”

“Before what? You’re my best friend!”

I stand up and grab her by the shoulders. “That’s right. I’m your best friend. And I know Kent cared about you. We were at a kissing booth. He tried to kiss me. And now someone is going to great lengths to pin me to his murder.”

She stares at me, finally blinking. “Who would do that?” she whispers. She and Bradley pace back and forth. Her aura shifts from red to crystal so I know she’s not really mad. Thank God. I don’t know what I’d do without Erin.

“Someone went as far as taking a picture of Kent and me arguing,” I said to Erin with her back to me.

She stops and looks at me while a viridian green creeps around her. She’s confused. No! I want her aura to stay crystal. She has to know I’d never willingly hurt her. And I want her to believe that Kent really did care about her. I truly think he did.

It hits me. Michael pops into my head. I know exactly what I have to do. I have to go to Michael’s. I need to see him in a baseball cap. The mystery man had a baseball hat at Brittany’s and at Macro Hard. Michael knows Brittany and he knows I took the job at Macro Hard.

Even though his aura tells me he couldn’t commit murder, his white Pumas that Erin and I saw may prove otherwise. I get my keys.

“I have to go. I have to talk to Michael.” I head to the door, but stop for a second to root through a pile of clothes.

“What?” Bradley stands in the light, causing a shadow to cast on the clothes.

I shove him to the side, and frantically start flinging the clothes out of the basket. “I need to find my baseball hat. I have to see if Michael resembles the mystery man.” I grab the hat and leave the house.

“I’ll stay here with Herbie.” Erin plops on the couch next to the dog.

“You’re not going without me.” Bradley follows me to my car. He plants himself in the front seat.

I don’t want Bradley in danger, but I’m thrilled he wants to be with me. I only hesitate for a second. “What if Michael set this up the whole time and took the picture of me? He has those same white Pumas.” If my “gift” is off and if my reading of Michael is off, my aura reading days might be over. I glance at Bradley and hope that’s not true. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of looking at the shimmering blue that outlines his body.

The traffic down his street is heavier today than I’ve seen it. With the break from the rain, I’m sure people are taking advantage of the park. There is a line of cars trying to get through but, I can’t wait any longer. Patience may be a virtue, but it’s one virtue I’m willing to live without.

I park. “I’ll be right back.” I instruct Bradley to stay put. This is as far as I want him to go.

He grabs my hand on the parking brake. “I’m through letting you do this on your own.” His eyes are deep and full of concern. “You’re nuts if you think I’m going to let you confront him on your own.”

I could argue. I could throw a fit and insist he stay. But the fact that he is willing to come with me. . .to be by my side. . .fills me with warmth and a comfort I haven’t felt since before my parents left. I nod and we get out of the car and walk to Michael’s apartment. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to say, but I have to get him to try on a baseball hat with his white Pumas. It’s the only way to know if he’s the mystery man or not.

I jump. “Ian?” The cop is standing in front of Michael’s building.

“What are you doing here?”

“I. . .er. . . I.” I don’t know what to say. 

He coolly looks Bradley and me over and that same moment, I realize that the line of cars isn’t because people are trying to get to the park. They’re rubberneckers. Is Michael dead? Oh God, am I too late? Worse, am I wrong? Then I see him. Absolutely not dead. Carl has him in hand cuffs dragging him to his cop car.

I leave Bradley to deal with Ian and run over to him. “Michael?”

He doesn’t look at me. His head is hung down and his shoulders slump. The handcuffs jingle as he walks to the police car.

“Michael?” I want to get an aura reading, but it’s all foggy.

“Please get Belle. Take her home with you. She knows you.” Michael pleads with me. “I didn’t do it Olivia, I swear.” He starts to cry and turns to Carl. “You have to believe me. I didn’t do it!” 

“Let me guess, your brother?” Carl turns away and looks me dead in the face. “I’m ashamed of you. You know he’s the killer?”

“No Carl.” I look down at my feet. I don’t know who the killer is. I don’t know if it’s Michael, Brittany or both.

“I’m going to need a statement from you.” Carl lowers Michael into the back of his cruiser. Bradley holds me back. Carl slams the door with Michael pleading his innocence.

Bradley stands with Ian, who’s keeping the traffic moving. He flashes Ian his SPCA badge.

“Since I’m with the SPCA, can I take the dog?” Bradley asks Ian. Dang, he’s good. No wonder I’m falling for him.

Ian goes upstairs to retrieve Belle while Bradley and I wait without a word between us.

***

Our drive back is silent except for little Belle’s whimpering. Bradley strokes her and whispers that it’s going to be all right, and all I can think about it seeing Michael in a baseball cap.

Once home, we let Belle and Herbie romp around in the yard. We let them romp too long. Carl pulls up and we’re still outside.

“Good evening folks.” Carl takes his hat off and walks over to the back porch. “Can I have a word with you, Olivia?”

“Do you have a subpoena?” I love how Bradley stands up between Carl and me, like he’s my knight in shining armor.

“No, I just want to talk with her.” Carl looks past Bradley and into my eyes. “Off the record.”

For some reason I trust Carl. I put my hand on Bradley’s shoulder, “It’s fine.” Bradley turns to me questioning my response and I smile. Carl has history with my aunt. That has to count for something. Carl and I wait until Bradley and Erin completely shut the door.

Carl is as serious as a heart attack. “Listen, I know you didn’t kill anyone.” His eyebrows form a platform over his eyes casting a shadow that makes me shudder. “I believe you are just like your Aunt Matilda. You
know
something.” He puts a lot of emphasis on the word know.

I don’t know what to do with this. What does he know about Matilda? What does he think I can do? Will he blow my cover? I have to stall. “So what if I do, why would I tell you?”

“We need to bring these murders to a close. The FBI is breathing down my neck. They want to know everything I know about Splitsville.com.”

My stomach sinks to my toes when I hear Splitsville.com and FBI in the same sentence. So he’s leveraging his information. I’m not so sure I can trust him after all.

He pulls out a baggie. “Why was this stuck in your dash?” He holds it up next to my face so I can see it’s the list I made about Brittany’s motives and the Swiss Army knife. “We’ve combed all the security tapes from Macro Hard and it seems there isn’t any footage of the car you describe leaving the parking lot. Do you have any clue who broke into your card and what this list of motives is about?”

I do the only thing I can. I whisper, “Give me five minutes alone with Michael Schultz. Then I’ll answer a few of your questions.” I search his face for his reaction, but he’s good. He doesn’t flinch or give an ounce. “He didn’t do it, Carl.”

“You know I can get you for withholding evidence.”

“I don’t have evidence and you know it. I’m like Matilda, remember? Threats will get you nowhere.” I walk away because, if he’s not going to give any, I’m not going to give any. “Good night, Carl.”

“You’re
exactly
like Matilda,” he blurts out. I keep walking, and he finally adds, “Okay. Five minutes.”

A slow grin creeps across my mouth. I know I have Carl exactly where I want him. I only need a minute to get the cap on Michael—just to make sure. 

“I get numbers one through six, but eight. . .” He points to the list of motives I made for Brittany. “It says here that she begins to threaten Splitsville.com because she’s angry, but she doesn’t know Jenn’s true identity.” He takes his readers off his face. “What do you mean threatens? How did she threaten you?”

“Emails.” I don’t play stupid because I know Aunt Matilda told him.

He looked at me for a good long while. “Do you have copies of the emails?”

I cut to the chase. “Yes, but they aren’t traceable to any one person, only places.” Herbie is scratching at the door. I walk over and let him and Belle out. “She’s sending them from public places in Park City or hasn’t Aunt Matilda given you that tid-bit of information?”

I’m happy to see Herbie’s aura is back to normal. He runs around sniffing every inch of the yard with Belle following along after him.

“You’ve already accused her. Why?”

I tell him about the lipstick coffee cup and the lipstick I found at the SPCA. “But I don’t want you to let Michael go.”

“I think you need to leave that up to the police.”

“I think you forgot who you’re dealing with. If I am like my Aunt Matilda, which I’m not claiming to be, but if I am, I do know more than what I’ve told you.” I have to play my cards right or I may never save Splitsville.com.

“Excuse me?” Carl obviously doesn’t like to be threatened. Red aura is not his color.

“I’m asking you to keep Michael in jail and not use anything I say about Brittany for a couple of days. I have a theory and I might be way off base, but I need a day or two.”

Carl knows I’m not going to budge, “So if I give you the couple days, you’ll help me like your Aunt Matilda did years ago?”

“Yes.” I worry I might’ve just made a deal with the devil, but it’s giving me time to save the lid from being blown off Splitsville.com.

***

The jail isn’t located at the police department. It’s on the outskirts of town by the old mill. I guess they put it there because no one ever goes to that side of town. The prisoners are just your local drunks or shoplifters. Never had any murderers in there. They are usually shipped to the state’s bigger facilities.

I pull into the lot and park under the one spot light next to the door. This is probably the safest place to be in town, but whoever has the BMW is still out there somewhere. I glance around on the way in.

“I’m here to see Michael Schultz.” I tell the lady behind the bars, who sits right inside the double doors. I hand her my driver’s license.

She takes it and makes a copy of it. She pulls a list out from under the phone and drags her finger down it.

“Mm, hum.” She hands my ID back to me and smiles. “Through the doors.”

I hear the click as the doors unlock. I pull it open and walk in. I wait for the woman to walk around and unlock the door with bars in front of me.

“I have to check under your baseball cap.” Her eyes wander around the rest of my body. I made sure I left everything in the car. I have no desire to be searched.

I pull the baseball cap off my head to show her there’s no weapons, food or even a hairstyle under it.

“You can sit here.” She locks the door behind me and shows me the chair in the corner.

I wait for a couple of minutes with my knees together and hands in my lap. I stand up as soon as Michael rounds the corner.