5 Alive After Friday (13 page)

“I know it’s wishful thinking, but I really hope
you won’t try to confront her until I come back. Remember, she went to jail for
manslaughter.”

Sandy hit heavy rush hour traffic on her way to
the address Boyd had given to Bristol Trucking as his home. A quick check with
the county assessor’s website showed Tonya Rhodes owned the property. She could
be Boyd’s landlord, sister or even wife. Sandy just didn’t know. She’d snoop
around the neighborhood and try to get the facts. She checked the dashboard
clock. She had two hours before Ryan would be back in town and phoning her.

“How do people live around here with all this traffic?”
she mumbled to herself while enduring another stall on I-95. Almost immediately
after exiting, she entered a palm-tree lined, quiet residential area. She
looked up at the clear blue sky. “Okay, I take it all back. This is what
Florida’s all about.”

Her GPS dictated three more turns and she was at
her destination. She double-checked the house number. It was an older—older for
Florida—single family dwelling in a pleasant neighborhood; a well cared for white
stucco cinder block house with attractive courses of yellow bricks going
halfway up the front façade. All trimmed with suitable seasonal plantings. The closed
overhead garage door gave no hint of whether Tonya was home.

Sandy went on ahead and parked in front of the
house two houses down and across the street from Tonya. A family living there would
likely hear gossip about Tonya, yet was far enough away to not be a protective
friend. She walked past the car in the driveway, knocked and was pleasantly
greeted by a thirty-something woman in jeans and an oversized deep-red Miami
Heat jersey.

“Who are you again?”

“I’m investigating an accident. I understand that
Mrs. Rhodes...is she married?”

“I’m not certain—”

“I understand Ms. Rhodes might have witnessed
something.”

“Why don’t you go across the street and ask her?”

“Oh, I did,” she lied, “no answer. Does she live
alone?”

“Where?”

“Where?”

“The accident?”

“Oh, of course.” Sandy tried to think of a street,
any street. Then she remembered the Marriott, “Coral Boulevard near I-95.”

“Well, I know who she is but don’t know her very
well. Anyway, I don’t see how what I say helps any with the accident. Step in
out of the heat. You look like you could stand a glass of iced tea. I was just
going to fix up a batch. Will you join me?” She held the door open.

“Sounds nice.” Sandy stepped into the pleasant
Florida living room with lots of pastels and shades of white. “Does Tonya live
alone?”

“Really, you can’t expect me to give all the
low-down to someone I just met.” Then the woman smiled. “But since you’re going
to join me for tea...you just get comfy there, and I’ll be right back.”

The woman disappeared into the kitchen. Sandy
walked across to the large living room window and peered out across the street
and slightly down the block at the Tonya Rhodes house.

The woman returned saying, “She seems to be a
lovely person. Friendly and all that. I remember once the little girl who lives
next door, what is she ten? Fell on her bicycle. Tonya was planting something
in her front yard—she’s quite the homemaker—came charging across the street to
help her.” She paused to look at her watch. “Well, you’d think the girl had
broken her arm instead of just a scratch. Tonya was all over her dabbing at the
wound and putting on a band-aid. Then you know what? Tonya puts the bike over
her knee and straightens out the bent frame on that bike with her bare hands.
If that don’t beat all.” The woman checked her watch, then walked across the
room and glanced out the front window.

Sandy was bothered by the woman’s watch-checking routine—and
rightfully so. There was a knock at the front door and it banged open.

All six feet plus of Tonya Rhodes stormed in with
a rush of gray sweatshirt and blue jeans. Sandy recognized her immediately—the
woman from Nationwide Driving School. She was attractive in a plain, natural
sort of way. Probably didn’t spend much time in front of a mirror. At that
particular moment she wasn’t happy.

“Don’t bother giving me a name and a reason for
being here, lady. Because I’m not going to believe anything you say. Thanks for
texting me, June.”

Sandy recovered fast, “Sorry for the deception. We
have a sensitive situation here. Some money was stolen. My job is to track it
down.”

Tonya said, “Not that I believe one word, but is Cal
involved? Is that why you were asking about him the other day?”

“Yes, all part of our investigation. We don’t
believe he stole it. Nevertheless, we believe he has information on the
suspect. He gave Bristol Trucking your address.”

“Is that a question?”

“Have you seen him lately?”

“I don’t believe any of this. Why do they have
someone from Park Beach down her snooping around?”

Sandy tried not to react. “Who says I’m from Park
Beach?”

“Your license plate.”

That was enough; Sandy knew she had to get out of
there. She didn’t like being on the defensive like that. Interviewing a
neighbor is one thing. Confronting an antagonistic suspect is something else. The
situation could only get worse. “I’m not permitted to say.”

“You aren’t permitted to tell the truth, yet you’ve
no trouble coming out with lies.”

“Sorry I bothered you.” Sandy stood to leave.

Tonya reached under her blouse and withdrew a handgun
from her waistband. “Sit back down and empty your handbag out on the coffee
table. Let’s see who you really are.”

A gun was the last thing Sandy wanted to see. Much
easier to bluff when a gun isn’t part of the scene. She took a deep breath,
squared her shoulders and pointed to the gun. “Tonya, you just committed a
federal offense.”

Tonya’s face snapped into a frown. The hand with
the gun fell to her side and she stepped back.

June whispered, “What’s she talking about?”

Sandy answered, “Felons are prohibited from
possessing a firearm.”

Tonya looked up and squeezed her eyes shut. “Shit!
You’re the law. Jesus, I just pointed a gun at a badge!”

“Put the gun down on the coffee table and sit over
there.” Sandy didn’t want to push this. The woman had a criminal conviction for
manslaughter in her past. That could mean anything from a borderline accidental
killing to intentional murder pled down to a lesser charge. And who knew what
else she’d been up to. A gun changes everything. Sandy had wanted to talk with her
while listening carefully; trying to match up the woman’s strong aggressive
voice with the false nasal accent used by Jane that night in the Everglades.
But this wasn’t the time. Forget about getting information. She just wanted to
get a safe distance away from this woman and her gun before something went bad.

Tonya’s face was still pale. “Look, I’m sorry...really
sorry. I didn’t know you from Adam.” She carefully set the gun on the coffee
table and pushed it away. “I didn’t know your game. I was just a woman trying
to protect myself. I’ve a right to protect myself, don’t I?”

“Not anymore with a gun, you don’t.” Sandy stared
at the gun, a large automatic. She had learned to recognize a Glock but didn’t
know enough to tell if it was a 9mm, the same as the Myra murder weapon. When
the guns come out, it’s a job for law enforcement, and she didn’t want to screw
up anything for Detective Dominic. “I’m leaving now. Sorry, I bothered you.”

“So if you’re the law then Cal is in trouble,
isn’t he? That’s why you’re coming around. Sure, he’s got a hot head but he’s a
good kid. Where is he? He’s been missing. I want to help him.”

Sandy shook her head slowly. “Can’t talk about
him.”

“I wish you wouldn’t go. Please stay long enough
for me to explain something.” The woman had somehow transformed into someone
soft, gentle and helpless. She had committed a federal offense by having that
gun in her possession. Maybe she didn’t want that information to leave the
room. And if she thought Boyd was in trouble, Sandy didn’t want to do anything
to make matters worse. She walked quietly over to the door.

“I don’t know what agency or department you’re
with, maybe FBI. Just give me a chance to explain. My dad started that truck
driving school. I took over after he died.”

“That’s nice but I’m not interested.” Sandy knew if
a woman that size came at her with or without a weapon she’d be broken into
little pieces.

“But it’s about Cal,” the woman went on. “He comes
in one day. My school is just scratching along trying to make it and he shows
up without a dime in his pocket...wants to be a driver. I work out a payment
deal, so he can start training. Then I find him sleeping in his pickup, so I
take him home...like a stray puppy. Things had been pretty lonely for me up
until then, but that’s a story I’m sure you’ve heard before. Anyway, I let him
stay with me. He’s a little rough around the edges but a good kid. Not what
you’d call ideal, but it was happy time. Two needy people just minding their
own business not hurting anyone.”

Sandy had a million questions none of which she
dared ask. She crossed her arms and waited by the door.

“Things changed when he finished training and took
that job at Bristol. He started spending less time with me, didn’t come home
sometimes. I suspected another woman. Shit, I knew there was another woman. But
you know how it is. I’d be mad and swear at him when he wasn’t there but as
soon as he walked in that door...well, you know. Then again maybe you don’t. I
guess I’m a sucker, but what are you going to do? Normal for me lately is
sitting around waiting for him to show up.” She relaxed back in her chair and
crossed her ankles. She looked over at Sandy who appeared impatient with her
hand on the doorknob. “I’m explaining about my arrest, okay?”

Sandy nodded, her hand resting on the doorknob. She’d
wait. Tonya was calm now, the gun out of reach; perhaps she’d reveal something
useful.

“A year after high school, I took an office job
working for this man who sold equipment to car dealers or something. Single and
good-looking, the kind of man you dream about if you’re eighteen and lonely.
Maybe he’d want to settle down some day, and I’d be there all ready and waiting
for him. My dream. You know, girls do marry their bosses all the time. At least
that’s what I thought.”

“Go on.”

“One night there was a party and he asked me to go
with him. Asked me! Unbelievable. The party was at his apartment. Can you
guess? There was no party, only him. He’d been drinking and it all got freaky.
He wouldn’t let me leave. He’d have been all over me, if I hadn’t fought back. It
got rough. Once I made it to the door and opened it, but he yanked me back. And
then I pushed him—and I can push pretty hard. Anyway, he fell back over a chair
and hit his head on a heavy glass table. Someone saw me running down the hall
and called the cops. If I’d been lucky enough to get out that door before he fell,
there’d have been no crime. But a man was dead.”

June almost screamed, “But Tonya it’s so wrong!
They shouldn't have sent you to prison!”

“You’re not free unless the jury says you’re free.
If the jury says manslaughter, then it’s manslaughter. I got five years.”

No one said anything for a minute. Then Tonya
said, “You know, you could overlook this gun thing if you wanted. I’ m not
giving you any problem, am I? Got nothing to do with your case and some stolen money.
Give me a break, okay?”

Without a word, Sandy turned, apologized for
coming in under false pretenses and went out quietly closing the door behind
her.

“Who do you think she was?” June asked.

Tonya shrugged. “Trouble.”

“Five years. That must have been hell.”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

T
his situation
is ridiculous and makes no sense to me. My wife embezzles money, and now I’m the
one sitting in an interrogation room at the police station. I hope this doesn’t
take much longer. I have to get out of here. I’ve landscaping jobs I must get
to. I’ve a business to run. I’d hate to see Myra locked up, still she’s the one
who should be sitting in jail right now. Maybe she already is. I don’t know
where she is. I’ll have to ask the detective when he comes back in.

They must think I was in on the embezzlement that
would explain why I’m here. I didn’t even know about it until she told me last
night at Gail’s place. Neither one of us could believe it. Why did she do such
a stupid thing? We asked her, how much did you steal, Myra? Three
thousand...six thousand? And she wouldn’t answer. Wouldn’t tell us. I’d have
given her money, if it were an emergency. On second thought, maybe I wouldn’t
give her more money. She was spending like mad, and I was certain it was ending
up in her boyfriend’s pocket. I didn’t intend to support him.

My wife takes a lover. Is that embarrassing or
what? I hope I don’t have to explain all that to the police. I guess I’m the
one to blame. She had a chance at a young guy—can I blame her for that? Wasn’t
getting what a woman wants, so she went after it elsewhere. I was no competition
for the exciting stud half my age. Gail said maybe life does begin at forty. If
it began for Myra, it certainly died for me. Gail said Myra should toss him out—and
send him over to her place for a couple of nights. Of course, she wasn’t
serious and I thought her little joke was in bad taste.

She was amazed Myra could keep the affair going. I
disagreed. I believe Myra still has a lot going for her. I think she’s still attractive—at
least physically. Yet, it’s as though she discovered a new woman in herself,
and I don’t find that new woman attractive. To cheat on me is bad enough, but
how obsessed must she be to bring her lover home and have me see the guy in the
morning? Gail no doubt believes I’m a first-class wimp. I guess she’s right.

Here comes the detective with papers in his hand
and a stern look on his face. “How long is this going to take? I can’t hang
around here all day, officer.”

“Detective.”

“Okay, how long...detective? I’ve already told you,
I don’t know anything about any of this. Where’s my wife? She’s the one who
should be sitting here answering questions.” Look at his face all screwed up.
He doesn’t like me talking like that.

“When did you last speak with your wife?”

“I don’t know...a couple of days ago.”

“Not yesterday?”

Somehow, the detective knows I spoke with her
yesterday evening. She texted me earlier in the day saying she was in big
trouble, terribly shaken. Said she’d been discovered. The police were coming to
take her away. What in hell was she talking about? She mumbled something
incoherent about swapping accounts receivables around and depositing the
difference into her own bank account. At first, I didn’t understand that she
had stolen some money.

“No, like I said, I haven’t spoken with her for a
couple of days.” I’m not going to admit I had any knowledge about any of it.

“You’re lying you not only spoke with her
yesterday, you saw her yesterday.”

Is he going to jump on every little thing? But he’s
right. I was over at Gail’s place, when Myra called. Said she was coming over to
talk to us. Gail told her she’d like to help, but what could she do. I was
quite upset. I told her she was on her own.

“Did you know your wife was about to be arrested
for embezzlement?”

“No, I was totally shocked.”

“You’re lying. We know you did.”

This wasn’t working out for me. What was I doing?
This was getting me in deeper. “Look, detective, I’d nothing to do with her
thievery, and you can’t prove that I did. Okay, I did know about the
embezzlement. She told me last night.”

The detective sat back in his chair. “That’s
better. I can’t help you if you’re lying to me.”

Yeah, like he’s here to help me. She begged me to
help. I told her I didn’t know how to help, but if she wanted to confess, we’d
get a lawyer and I’d stand by her. But she’d have to straighten up and stop all
that foolishness with Boyd. At that moment, I didn’t know if I had it in me to
just forgive and take her back. She was all distraught and I figured get her
legal problem out of the way first, we could talk about what was going to happen
to the two of us later. At the time she went home, she seemed uncertain about
what to do.

“You got life insurance on your wife?”

Now is that any of his business? “Sure she has
coverage under the group life insurance policy at work. Fifty thousand, I guess.
What does life insurance have to do with embezzlement anyway?”

“Ryan, you got a gun?”

“No, I don’t. What’s that have to do with
embezzlement?”

“Why’d you skip town?”

“I didn’t skip town. I drove up to our timeshare
near Orlando. Things hadn’t been going well between us. I wanted to get away.”

“Not going well, you say?” The detective leaned
closer. “What’d you do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You must have been pretty angry with her.”

“You’re damn right I was. I’m in business here and
the publicity could ruin me.”

“She’d just destroyed the business you worked so
hard to establish. Man, that would be the final blow for me. No one could blame
you for being mad at her.”

“You can say that again. Even before stealing the
money, she was ruining my life with her running around making a fool of
herself. I needed to put a stop it.”

“Tell me about that part, Ryan.”

It really wasn’t any of his business. “It might be
possible she was seeing someone else.”

“Come on, she was out screwing guys. Real men
wouldn’t put up with that.”

“Not other guys. Just one man.”

“So, the bitch was cheating on you, ruining your
life and ruining your business.”

“Calling my wife names is really out of line,
detective. Are you permitted to talk like that?”

“Well, look what she was doing to you, man. She
really had it coming, if you ask me. No one could blame you for wanting to get
rid of her.”

“I should have done something earlier. I should
have erased her like a bad dream.”

“That’s exactly what you did, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You want to make a statement?”

“I thought I had been making statements for the
last hour.”

“Ryan, did you kill your wife?”

“My wife isn’t dead. Why would you say something
like that to me?”

“You gave her three shots from a 9 mil. And left
her to die in a pool of blood. You think she survived that?”

Ryan Cramer fell forward collapsing across the
table.