Anonymously Yours (18 page)

Justin started to say something when our waitress arrived with our orders. My mouth watered at the steaming stack of pancakes she placed in front of me. I reached for the butter and slathered on a heaping amount.

“This looks wonderful,” I told her. I poured maple syrup over the stack, while Justin doctored his own plate.

Our waitress smiled and placed our ticket on the table. “Let me know if you need anything else,” she told us.

When she walked away, I stuffed a large bite of my pancake into my mouth and chewed. “I almost forgot,” I said, waving my fork at Justin. “I promised to call Uncle Bob again this morning. Let me borrow your phone.”

Justin retrieved his phone from his pocket and lowered his eyebrow. “What exactly did you tell your uncle last night?” he asked.

“I told him about my visit to Michael Black and about the red Toyota following us last night,” I answered, punching in the number. “I also told him we were safe. Then I asked him to check around and see if he could find out if there was ever an investigation into Michael Black’s wife’s death ten years ago.”

Justin started to say something else, but I put up a finger for silence when Uncle Bob answered.

“Hello, Uncle Bob,” I replied. “I just wanted to check in this morning like I promised.”

I heard a long sigh at the other end of the line. “Denise, you need to let me know where you are. Then the three of us can sit down and discuss what needs to be done.”

Although I expected that response, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I couldn’t tell him what he wanted to know—at least not now. I knew he’d want to bring the police in, but at the moment I had no evidence linking Michael Black or Harry Winslow to Angelica’s murder.

“Denise?” he said.

I had to think fast. “Uncle Bob,” I said, “these men are smart. They’ve already killed one person. Maybe two. I’m afraid they may even be watching you to see if you’ll lead them to Justin and me. I can’t take that chance.”

I heard another long pause as the realization of what I’d just said sank in. “Then let me call the police and have them meet you somewhere,” he suggested. “You can’t do this alone.”

I had to agree with him on that one. “I won’t do it alone,” I told him. “I just need a little more time to figure out our next move. And I promise, you’ll be the first to know.” I hoped that was reassurance enough for now. It was the best I could do under the circumstances. “Uncle Bob?” I asked, praying my question would be answered with the response I hoped for. “Did you have a chance to check on what I asked you about last night?”

“I did,” he responded. “Apparently there was an investigation into Mrs. Black’s death. Her husband received over one hundred thousand dollars from a life insurance policy he had taken out on his wife just weeks before she died. However, one other person was also killed from product tampering from the same store Mrs. Black’s purchase came from. Three other people survived. No one has ever been charged with the crime.”

I glanced at Justin and smiled. I had a feeling we were onto something. I just didn’t know how we were going to prove it.

“Thank you, Uncle Bob,” I said, sincerely. “I promise I’ll let you know what our next move is. I’ll call you back as soon as we know.”

I disconnected before he could issue an objection.

“What was the smile about?” Justin asked as I handed him back his phone. He cradled his coffee cup in his hand.

I picked up my cup and took a sip. “Michael Black’s wife was one of five people who were affected by tainted pain killers sold at the same store.”

“So?” He shrugged. “Doesn’t that just prove that Michael Black didn’t kill his wife?”

I leaned forward, my smile stretching. “Not necessarily,” I said. “Remember I told you earlier that I’d done some research on cyanide poisonings?”

He nodded.

“Well, apparently since that time, it’s been a method of choice for some people who think it’s an easy way to get away with murder.”

Justin scratched his head, his eyebrows wrinkled. “I don’t get it.”

“If Mr. Black wanted to kill his wife, all he had to do was lace a few bottles of a product with cyanide, place it back in the stores, and then claim that his wife also purchased a bottle there before she died. And he wouldn’t have cared that other people died in the process, as long as his own wife did.”

Justin’s eyes lit up. “Wow. That’s almost the perfect crime. I mean, how would anyone get caught?”

That seemed to be the biggest problem. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But there has to be some way we can prove Michael Black killed his first wife. I mean, the fact that his fiancée died from the very same thing his wife died from has got to be more than coincidental.”

“I agree.” Justin finished the last bite of his pancake and pushed his plate to the end of the booth. He picked up his cup and took a sip while his gaze lingered on the ceiling. “The red Toyota still bothers me,” he finally said. “You thought Mr. Winslow was the one who drove it away that morning and dumped Angelica’s body in the river, right?”

I nodded and bit into another bite of my pancake. “It had to be him because Mr. Black says he left it in the airport parking lot when he left on his trip. Surely the police have already checked his alibi. And I know that car was at his house the next morning.”

“But why would Winslow move the body if he wanted to implicate his partner in her death?”

I stopped chewing and swallowed hard. “Are you suggesting that Mr. Black boarded the airplane, flew to his destination, then came back some other way?”

“He could have, you know. He could have come back, checked his car out of the lot, and driven it home.”

“And killed his fiancée?” I finished off the last bite of pancake, then reached for my coffee cup. I shook my head and took a sip. “He didn’t do it, Justin. I still can’t believe that he was capable of killing her. He loved her. I saw it in his eyes when I talked to him yesterday.”

Justin chewed his bottom lip, while he seemed to consider what I’d just told him. “Okay, maybe he didn’t kill her,” he said. “Maybe she was already dead when he got there, and he panicked.”

I started to say something when our waitress came by with the coffee pot. “Would you like more coffee?” she asked.

We both nodded, then waited for her to fill our cups. She reached across the table and picked up our empty plates. “Will there be anything else?” she asked.

“I think we’re good for now,” Justin told her. “Can you keep the coffee coming, though?”

She nodded, then left.

I leaned my arms across the table and whispered, “Maybe you’re right, Justin. Maybe Angelica was already dead when Michael Black arrived at his house. Obviously, Mr. Winslow planted the wallet for me to find. Which means that he wanted me to find the body. He probably expected me to call the police right away. And I would have if I hadn’t heard a noise upstairs.”

“Michael Black,” he said slowly.

“Exactly. He came home early and found his fiancée’s body. Then, when I came in, he panicked. Maybe he purposely made a loud noise upstairs to scare me off. If I had stayed and called the police then, he would have had no chance to escape with the body.”

I leaned back against the bench. It all seemed to be falling into place. Even if Michael Black had wanted his fiancée dead, he wouldn’t have killed her by the same method his own wife had died from years ago. That would have made him look guilty. And it could even open up an investigation into his wife’s death ten years earlier.

Justin’s eyebrows became one. “There’s still a problem with that scenario,” he said. “The police know that Angelica didn’t die from drowning now. Michael Black had to know that the cause of death would come out eventually. So even with his removing her body and dumping her in a river, isn’t he still a good suspect for murder?”

My mind was reeling from exhaustion. If we didn’t unravel the puzzle soon, it could cost us our lives. But it seemed the more possible answers we came up with, several more questions arose.

I lowered my face into my hands and thought about what Justin had just said. He was right. Michael Black was probably the police’s top suspect in his fiancée’s death. But there was still one thing that we knew that the police didn’t.

I raised my head, meeting Justin’s questioning gaze. “Maybe,” I said. “But remember, the police don’t know that Angelica was in Michael Black’s house that morning. As far as they know, she could have been killed anywhere and then dumped.”

Justin sipped his coffee, then exhaled a long breath of air. “This whole thing would be so much easier if the two men just broke down and confessed everything.”

He meant it as a joke, but his words sparked an idea. I put my cup down on the table so hard it splashed coffee over the rim. Several customers turned to stare.

I offered an apologetic smile and leaned over the table. “Justin, that’s it!” I said softly. “We get them to confess!”

His mouth dropped open. “What?”

A new sense of satisfaction settled over me as I placed my hand over my mouth and contemplated my new plan. “We set a trap of our own,” I said, picking up a napkin and dabbing at the mess I’d made. My mind was spinning with so many new thoughts, I had to talk fast to remember them. “We call Heather,” I said. “We tell her we know that Mr. Winslow and Michael Black have committed a murder. We also tell her that we know she’s involved in something illegal at the diner, and if she doesn’t cooperate she could also be implicated in the murder.”

“But I don’t think she is involved,” Justin said.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said, waving his statement away. “It’s just a scare tactic. Besides,” I added, “my guess is that she is involved in whatever is going on at the diner. I’ve always wondered how she affords the fancy car and designer clothes she wears. She’s got to be doing something besides cashiering and shuffling papers in the school’s office.”

Justin’s eyebrows pulled together.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Remember I told you that the teachers didn’t like the students hanging around the diner all the time?”

My eyes widened. “You think there’s a connection between the school and the diner?” I rested my chin on my steepled fingers, then spoke slowly and softly. “Heather works at the school office. Teenagers follow Heather to the diner.” My heart started to race. I looked up at Justin. “There’s gotta be a connection,” I told him.

“I think so too. But the problem is how do we find out what it is?”

I bit my lower lip, nodding slowly. “Just like I said before: we get them all to the diner and let them confess.”

He took another long sip of his coffee, then set the cup on the table and traced his finger over the rim. “But what if we’re wrong?” he asked. “What if Heather doesn’t take the bait?”

I thought for a minute. Things had to run like clockwork in order for my plan to work.

“We phone her anonymously,” I suggested. “Instead of calling from your cell, we’ll call from that payphone on the wall so no caller information will be displayed on her phone.”

Justin smiled. “And by being anonymous, we save ourselves the embarrassment if we’ve made a mistake.”

“Exactly,” I said. “But I don’t think we’re making a mistake. Whatever Angelica knew cost her her life. And it had to involve both Mr. Winslow and Michael Black. Since they’re partners, it also had to involve the diner.”

Justin leaned forward and tossed me a crooked smile. “You do plan to let your uncle know what we’re planning, right?”

I knew he’d get around to that question, but I didn’t mind. I’d already decided that my uncle’s participation was key to accomplishing this mission.

I nodded slowly. “Oh, yeah,” I said. “We need Uncle Bob’s help with this plan. I have a feeling that Michael Black and Mr. Winslow are keeping a close watch on my uncle, hoping he’ll eventually lead them to me.”

Justin’s expression deflated. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he said. “How are we going to get a message to him? Could they have tapped his phone?”

I waved away the suggestion. “They’d need police participation to find the location of a cell phone or any other phone for that matter. I doubt they have those kinds of contacts. And I never told Uncle Bob where we were.”

His worried expression didn’t change. “So what is the plan?” he asked.

“Once we call Heather, we phone Uncle Bob and tell him we’ve discovered the reason for Angelica’s murder, and that we’re on the way to Winslow’s Diner to prove it. Believe me, there’s no way he won’t get there as fast as he can.” I picked up my coffee cup and sipped the now lukewarm brew. “Uncle Bob is furious at me now. He’s also tired. I could hear it in his voice. If he had any clue where we were right now, the police would already be here questioning us.” I took another sip and nodded. “He’ll call the police as soon as he knows where to send them.”

“Okay,” Justin said. “I’ll admit, it sounds like a good plan, but just in case you’re wrong, I’m also calling 9-1-1 as soon as we see your uncle enter the parking lot.”

Before I could respond, our waitress appeared with a fresh pot of coffee. She smiled and filled our empty cups to the rim. “You two look like you’re deep into something serious here,” she said. “I’ll keep the coffee coming.”

I thanked her, then waited until she left before whispering to Justin. “I hope we haven’t been talking louder than we thought.” I glanced around the diner, noticing the curious stares of the other customers. “If someone becomes suspicious or nervous by what we’re saying, they might alert the authorities.”

A knot formed in the pit of my stomach. I took a long sip of coffee, hoping to wash it away.

Justin nodded. “Then let’s go over the plan one more time,” he suggested. “Then we’ll call a cab and get this over with.” He put his cup down and lowered his arms to the table. His voice low, he began laying out the steps to our plan.

“Okay,” he said. “First we phone Heather and tell her we know she’s involved in something illegal at the diner. We’ll also tell her she could be implicated in a murder if she doesn’t cooperate. Then we phone your uncle and tell him to meet us at the diner.” He raised an eyebrow. “What about Winslow and Michael Black?”