5 Alive After Friday (5 page)

S
andy
and Martin walked down the hall from the police interrogation room and out the parking
area exit. He walked her over to her car. “I get the feeling the FBI aren’t
going to be very aggressive about this case.”

“Agent Hastings is upset because I threw them off
their game plan. They like to have a missing person, then a ransom note, then
the money-drop and then the arrest.”

“And sometimes a dead victim, if the captors don’t
fully understand how they’re supposed to play the FBI game,” he said. “I, for
one, believe you did the right thing. Give them the money and no one gets hurt.
Chase after them later.”

“Thanks, Martin. I needed that vote of confidence.
You know, I’m not comfortable leaving all this is their hands.” She got in and lowered
the window. “Maybe it’s best if the FBI aren’t all over this case. I can do my
thing without bumping into them.”

“You mean, we can do
our
thing. Don’t even
think of leaving me out of this. Don’t ask me how you’re going to square all
this with Chip.”

She shrugged. “I’d love to have you along.” She
blew him a kiss and started her car.

Martin chanted, “See Jane run. Run Jane run,” as she
drove away.

As she pulled out of the police station parking
lot, her phone buzzed. Chip said, “Tell me you’re all right.”

“I’m fine. Geez, I’m glad to hear your voice.”
Here we go, she thought. The inevitable confrontation with him would take place
earlier than she’d expected.

“I know it’s late. I finished my assignment and
just checked in with Stabler. He told me to phone you...that you’d be up and
would want to speak with me.”

“What a guy.” She assumed the chief told him what
was happening.

“So, how do you feel?” he asked.

“I just left an FBI interrogation, but I’m much
better since I’m talking with you.”

“I just got home. Why aren’t you here?”

She wasn’t in the mood to go over all of it one
more time with him. So she said, “Because I’m dead tired and must talk to
Jaworski first thing tomorrow. I thought I’d go back to my place.”

“Sandy, I heard about the kidnapping and got a
brief rundown on what happened in the chief’s office. You’ve been through hell,
sweetheart. We won’t talk about it tonight. Just come over. I want to hold you
close to me.”

“I can’t refuse that offer.”

A
t
breakfast the next morning, Chip said very little about how Sandy had handled
herself during the ordeal and none of his comments were especially critical of
her. The big expected confrontation with him never happened. She’d never
doubted that Martin would side with her, but she thought it was great that Chip
also hadn’t come down on her. Where’d he get all that faith in her?

It helped that he was incredibly relieved she’d
made it through the nightmare relatively unscathed. He appreciated that she
tried to protect him and would pay the money or do whatever was demanded
because she loved him. He seemed to be taking a philosophical attitude; he understood
what had gone on, what else was there to say? For better or for worse, the
money drop was a done deal, he said. No point in her beating herself over it.

“Just don’t get personally involved in trying to
get the money back,” he made that point twice. “It’s now in the hands of the
authorities. Let them do their job.”

She left his house and was at the Park Beach
police building, at eight that morning. As she exited the elevator on the
second floor, Judy Nagler came over and greeted her. Judy was a uniformed
police officer specializing in crime analysis and known to be sharp and serious
about her career. An excellent resource inside the department, she had helped Sandy
and Martin officially and unofficially several times in the past.

Judy and Martin had been seeing each other. After
a few dates, they had become an item. Martin would occasionally dream about settling
down anyway and had flipped over the cute blonde almost from the start. Almost
immediately, he pictured her as a wife never as just a date. Her situation was
more complex as she was a single mom with a teenage daughter she had to
consider, before changing their lives by taking the remarriage leap. Sandy liked
her but they weren’t close. She didn’t know where Judy stood on the subject of
marriage.

Judy said, “Sorry about your horrible episode.
Must have been terrifying.”

Sandy thanked her for the concern.

“Eddy’s down the hall. Go ahead and sit in his
cubicle. I’m already working on your case.” Judy turned and went back to her cubicle.

Detective Sergeant Eddy Jaworski was a law enforcement
veteran who successfully combined a friendly demeanor with a no-nonsense
attitude. When Sandy needed something confidential, she’d go directly to him.
Hard not to like a guy who trusts you. He often worked directly under State
Attorney Mel Shapiro, frequently bypassing Eddy’s immediate superior Chief
Stabler. Mel had already told her Jaworski would be the lead detective on her kidnapping
and extortion case.

Jaworski arrived and greeted Sandy warmly. He told
her they didn’t have any reports from CSI yet, but the M.E. was examining the
body found near the equipment building. They had taken prints and expected
something back on the victim’s ID shortly. He wanted to hear about her entire
episode from start to finish. He’d then take her written statement.

Sandy referred to her notes and gave him a
description of the couple she had encountered on the path after leaving the
money on the bridge. They were the best suspects, as she didn’t see how anyone
else could have taken that money. She explained her confrontation with the kid
on the bike, and told Jaworski she had photos of all the vehicles in the
parking area. He told her that the police also had photos for comparison. He
left for a minute to take her phone over to Judy to download the photos. She
had already started tracing the license plate numbers; she’d make a list of the
owners and contact them.

At fifteen minutes to ten, Jaworski was finished
and Sandy took a copy of her statement down to Chief Stabler’s office on the
first floor. The chief apparently had cooled off; at least he didn’t exhibit
any animosity toward her. He had her read the first statement into a recorder
and then continue with what had happened after she made the money-drop and
found the body. The second statement was completed in less than an hour,
although the chief did say he might need a follow up.

Back up on the second floor she checked to see if
any reports had come in. Judy greeted her with a smile. “I located the couple
you saw on the path in Lagoon Park.”

Sandy raised her eyebrows. “Already?”

“Hey, I start work at eight and it’s almost noon.
What do you think I do around here?”

“Apparently, nothing but work. How do you know
it’s them?”

“There were only six vehicles. First, I made a
list of all vehicle owners or rental car agencies. Three owners are local, so I
just phoned them and asked if any of them painted their toenails pink
fluorescent. The first guy hung up on me.”

“You’re joking!”

“Of course, I’m joking. No, I confirmed they had
been to the park, and then I used the clothing descriptions you gave Eddy, madras
short-sleeved shirt, jeans, sneakers and light colored Capris. No luck. I’m
thankful this didn’t happen at a crowded ball game. I had only six vehicles to
deal with. Anyway, only the three non-local names were left on my list. So I
started with the tourists. I was going to phone the larger motels and see if
they were registered. The second call to the Holiday Inn I hit bingo. They
confirmed being over at the park and what they were wearing. A couple from
Montana. Jaworski’s over there now interviewing them.”

“I’m amazed, Judy.” She suspected Judy had
expended a great deal of special effort on her behalf.

Judy continued, “We don’t have the CSI report yet,
but Eddy told me nothing useful was found at Lover’s Bridge. No plastic tray,
no trace evidence, nothing.”

Just then Detective Jaworski stepped off the
elevator and came up to them.

“We got a hit back immediately of the dead guy’s
fingerprints.” He held up the report. “Name is Calvin Boyd, age twenty-five,
LKA Sarasota, Florida.”

“That’s great, how’d you get it so fast?” Sandy
asked.

“He was in the national database for offenders.”

“Which could mean anything from a DUI to a
homicide,” Sandy added. “In any case, he’s a bad actor. Just the type I’m
looking for. He’s looking less and less like a mugged tourist and more like
Dick. I love it.”

“I’ve requested a full report on him, of course. And
we need to check our local criminal records also. Mel Shapiro has someone
checking the civil records over at the courthouse.”

“Now things are moving. Judy said you interrogated
the couple I encountered in the park.”

“Yeah, over at the Holiday Inn. Sorry, Sandy, I’m
satisfied they have no useful information. They aren’t your Dick and Jane. They
saw a young woman leaving the bridge, and the description fit you. Said they saw
no one else. Hadn’t seen any gym bag or tray. Hadn’t heard any gunfire.”

“They’re lying. They must have the money. There’s
no other explanation. That gym bag sat there untouched for no more than a couple
of seconds. It didn’t just go up in smoke.”

“Turns out they’re newlyweds from Montana on
honeymoon in Florida. We’re lucky we caught them while they were still in Park
Beach.

“And you bought their wild story. Did you check
their driver’s licenses?”

“Yes, I copied them.”

“None of those vehicles I saw had Montana license
plates.” She was getting herself upset.

“Duh...rental car?”

“Did you see their marriage license?”

“You’re getting silly, Sandy.”

“Nobody is from Montana.”

“What do you mean, nobody is from Montana?”

“I’ve never met anyone from Montana. Have you? No.
you haven’t. Judy have you ever met anyone from Montana? No. See, they were
lying to you.”

“Okay, knock it off. I know you desperately wanted
them to be Dick and Jane, but they’re not. So get real.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Her shoulders sagged as
she exhaled. “The woman might have been Jane, but the man I saw walking with
her wasn’t the dead guy found dead by the equipment shed, assuming he was Dick.
So how did the money disappear?”

“Have you considered witchcraft?”

“That guess is better than mine. I’m going over
and examine the scene in Lagoon Park where I left the money. There has to be a
logical explanation.”

S
andy
drove over to Lagoon Park and happened to park in the same spot as the night
before; the night when she insanely left a fortune in cash setting exposed on
the rock wall of the bridge. The hot noon air was breezed away by the onshore
wind from the ocean nearby, but she decided not to lower the top on her
convertible. She was thinking about the scrawny kid.

The little thief on his new bicycle probably wouldn’t
show his face around the park in the light of day. More likely, he was over at
the beach snatching money, phones and wallets stuffed down into swimmer’s shoes.
Later she’d track him down somehow. Not only was he the first to find the body,
but he’d swapped bikes with the dead guy. She wondered if that new bike had a
serial number that could be traced; she’d like to learn who bought that bike and
where.

She hurried down the walking path. As she approached
Lover’s Bridge, she could see the yellow crime scene tape that once wrapped the
bridge area had been ripped down and the loose ends were blowing in the breeze.
Someone, a jogger perhaps, wasn’t going to have the winding path blocked at the
bridge. She’d have ducked under the tape anyway.

Once onto the small bridge, she examined the walls
and searched around both ends. It appeared much different in the bright morning
sunlight but was still just a simple footbridge with waist-high stone walls
running over a dry creek. The ends of the bridge were clear of foliage, no
place to hide.

In the near second, between her stepping off the
bridge and the couple from Montana stepping on, the gym bag had disappeared. As
if by magic. Either that or a trained sea gull had swooped down and snapped up
the bag with split-second timing. Made no sense. It had to be the Montana couple
who Jaworski had located, interviewed and sent on their happy way.

That explanation didn’t please her. It meant that
Dick and Jane had been in plain sight posing as a carefree couple who just
happened to be strolling along at money-drop time. Had they watched as Sandy
left her car? Could they have quietly walked a distance behind her and were
ready to face her as she stepped off the bridge. Besides all that, they must
have been clever enough to handle the questions from an old-time cop. If all
that were true, then they now were halfway back to Montana, never to be seen
again. Did any of that make sense?

She thought about the plastic tray. When she saw
it that night in the dark, she couldn’t tell much about it, but it seemed
ordinary. Why a tray anyway? Why did Jane want the gym bag placed on a tray?
Why not just place it directly on the wide top surface of the stone sidewall
itself?

Sandy leaned back against the stone sidewall and
folded her arms across her chest; think outside the box, she told herself.
Well, a trained sea gull swooping down was certainly outside the box. She
looked up. There were large trees on the bank of the dry stream and several
thick limbs hung over the footbridge. What she was thinking was totally wild.

Could there have been ropes attached to the tray?
Pulling on the ropes would have raised the tray holding the gym bag up out of
sight in the dark. Dick and Jane could then have waited to see if the police
were going to descend on the area. When it seemed safe, they could have lowered
the tray and taken off with the gym bag. Wouldn’t she have noticed such ropes
tied to the tray and running up? She would certainly think so but it had been
dark.

Crazy. She laughed at herself thinking all that.

She leaned over the sidewall and looked down at
the dry bed of the stream. She walked off the bridge, down the steep grassy
bank and stood on the dried-mud bottom. She walked backward and forward under
the bridge. She could see random trash and debris strewn back in the dark
cranny where the end of the bridge met the ground. Nothing unusual. The police
with their dogs would have thoroughly checked out the area.

Then she stood looking up at the bridge. With the
ropes still on her mind, another thought struck her. A thought that didn’t seem
quite so wild. What if Dick and Jane were waiting
under
the bridge? They
could simply yank on a thin cord attached to the tray and the gym bag would
come tumbling down to their feet. Then, crouched down, they could move away
unnoticed in the dark, between the steep sides of the dry stream. And if they
walked along in the streambed away from the bridge where would it take them?

She started walking on the bottom of the dry streambed.
It curved frequently with the walking path curving alongside up on the bank. Occasionally,
there was a discarded soda can or other trash. After a short while she could
see ahead. Back in the woods off to the side was the equipment shed.

The thrill of understanding raced through her body.
Bon Voyage, Montana couple, we don’t need you anymore! It all came together in
her mind and it fit. Dick had been waiting
under
the bridge. He had
yanked on the cord, got the gym bag and slunk away along the creek bed back to
the equipment shed ready to escape on his bicycle back to wherever he’d parked
his vehicle.

Except he never made it back to his vehicle. Someone
who knew of his plan was waiting for him at the shed with a gun. Someone such
as Jane, who might have figured he had just outlived his usefulness and dead partners
don’t tell tales nor take any of the money.

Sandy couldn’t hold back the smile. She had just
linked the dead guy, Cal Boyd, to the abduction. It meant he was Dick. It meant
Jane had the money. And it meant Jane was willing to kill to keep it.