I'll Protect You (Clueless Resolutions Book 1) (9 page)

Max Hargrove was stopping back at his apartment for a notebook which he forgot when he left for an appointment earlier on this Tuesday morning.  As he drove into the parking lot he saw Bruce Grover talking to Mrs. Durham, a tenant.  Max was in sort of a rush so he waved as he went into the north entrance of the building.

While in his office he noticed out of the front facing window, that Mrs. Durham was waving her arms and talking animatedly to Bruce, who was standing in front of her with a blank, rather stupid look on his face.

As Max trotted down the stairway and exited the building, Mrs. Durham motioned him over to where they were standing.

“Hello Mrs. Durham.” he said politely.  “Hey Bruce” he added, although more businesslike.

“Look at my car!”  Mrs. Durham exclaimed anxiously to Max.  “It’s all scratched along the side.”  Max acknowledged the damage and turned to Bruce:

“Is this something that happened on the property?” he asked.

“I don’t know anything about it” he answered flatly.  At that, Mrs. Durham was turning a little pale and holding her chest with both hands.

“Easy now, Mrs. Durham” said Max, trying to console her. “Why don’t you go inside and rest. I’ll be back later and we’ll try to settle this.”  The tenant, more calm, now, agreed.  She told Max that she usually went to bed at around 6 PM.

“If I get back too late, I’ll knock on your door tomorrow morning.” Max answered.

Before Bruce could add anything more, Max told him that he had an appointment and was running a little late.  They agreed to go over the matter later.  As he drove off he thought,
what in hell was this about?

Mrs. Dunham, a widow, was pushing ninety years of age and she didn’t drive much.  Bruce had told Max, some time back, that Mrs. Durham had asked him to drive her into town a few times. He also took her car to the auto dealer for servicing when needed.  She would give him a ten dollar bill each time.  They had a little chuckle over that but Max was considerate enough to realize that ten dollars was probably a typical weeks pay when she was a youngster.

Max doubted that she had caused the scratches herself, but, it was possible.  She was hard of hearing and could have side-swiped something without realizing it.

Jesus,
he thought,
I’ve worn a lot of hats since I bought this building, rental salesman, building manager, amateur plumber, furniture mover, detective…what now, Judge?

He realized his speed and slowed a bit. A speeding citation wasn’t what he needed right now, he was on the way to meet Maggie.

They had called Max’s boss, Carl Jenson, to arrange a meeting with him at his office. Carl had agreed and asked about the reason but Max had suggested it should wait until the three of them got together.  After a quick non-martini lunch at a local diner, the two arrived at Jenson & Associates at the pre-arranged time.

“Well, Ms. Marshall, it’s certainly nice to see you.  It’s been a while” was Carl Jenson’s greeting as he shook her hand with both of his.  Maggie withdrew her hand tactfully as she reciprocated the greeting.

“Carl, can we use the meeting room please?” Max asked.  Carl agreed and they followed him toward the small meeting room at the rear of the office.

“Pull up chairs and make your selves comfortable.”  Carl said amiably as he closed the French doors.

The meeting went on for approximately twenty minutes. Max started it off and Maggie filled in as they explained their personal involvement.  Carl was quite surprised, for some reason, or at least he acted that way.  He assured the couple in a factual manner that they were both considered valuable to his operation and acknowledged that business had slowed a bit, but it was expected to pick up going into the summer season.

From his perspective there were no reservations about the two of them working as a team, in fact, he thought it would be a non-productive move for them to alter their business relationship.

Maggie and Max exchanged commentary with Carl on the Sheffield matter, thanked him for accommodating their meeting request, and left.

At 3:25 PM, Francine Stanley was expecting company.  Maggie Marshall had asked to speak with her, along with Max Hargrove. Francine had agreed, although waiting here at Stanley Real Estate, in her office, she was experiencing some anxiety.

Maggie had been asking about business in general, which was unusual for her.  She was usually up to her eyeballs in her specialized work and didn’t seem to care much about the brokerage sales. Maggie had been the source of a steady, low scale but high volume income to Francine.

Is she getting ready to leave and go out on her own?  Why was she bringing Max Hargrove?  Was she going into a partnership with him, she
wondered?
  He is good looking though, s
he thought.  She decided to dab on a little extra perfume.

At 3:30 sharp, in walked Maggie, followed by Max.

“Good afternoon Francine,” It’s good to see you.” said Max, successfully disguising his rather jittery distrust of this woman. 
Anyone so overly done with cosmetics and so heavily perfumed must have something to hide,
he felt.

“Hello you two”, Francine said with an inviting tone, “come on in and shut the door.  I’m doing phone duty today.  Unless I get a call we shouldn’t be interrupted,” she volunteered.  Francine was protecting against the conversation being overheard by one of the sales women if one happened to come by.

Following basically the same approach to the subject as they had with Carl Benson, Maggie and Max described how, with their business life mixed so closely with their private life, it could be considered unethical, or at least being conducted with bias.  They asked for her feelings on the matter.

Francine hesitated and then with an uncharacteristic shrewdness that Maggie had never seen in her she said; “Well, Maggie, you haven’t recommended Mr. Hargrove for personal reasons, to the exclusion of someone else that might do better, have you?”

“No.” Maggie answered flatly

“Well then, I see no reason why a good-looking young couple like you two should worry about it.  With the golden reputation you both have, if anyone questions your situation to me, they will get nothing but a glowing recommendation.” Francine exclaimed in thinly disguised relief.
   Maggie isn’t leaving after all,
she thought.

With no further discussion on the subject needed, Maggie and Max thanked Francine for her time and went on their way.

While driving out of the office parking lot they simultaneously raised the thought that no mention of the Sheffield killing came from Francine. Maggie suggested that the usually preoccupied woman probably hadn’t heard of it as yet.

Maggie had decided that her lender clients didn’t have any reason to question her operation. They were mainly interested in timely resolution of the problem loans.  The only group of local people with which Maggie and Max associated with was socially related.  The tennis club members mostly treated them as a couple and there was usually no business transacted with them anyway. There were no further discussions needed.

With their days missions completed, their last stop for the day was Jerry’s Jug. They met at Jerry’s at approximately 5:15.

“Martini time, Kiddo” said Max with a big grin.

“Make it a king-size for me!” responded Maggie with a laugh. She was still laughing as they went into the pub.  Jerry greeted them; “G’Day Mates, short time no see. How goes it with the ‘Terrific Twosome’ on this fine afternoon?”

“We’re doing great and we have a mighty thirst.” Max said, obviously in a raucous mood.  “You’re in the right place then” shot back Jerry.

A newsflash came on the television over the bar. With a faraway shot of the house on Old Persia Road showing as a backdrop, an announcer came into view:

“A preliminary investigation has indicated that the recent mysterious death in Sheffield is being investigated as a homicide.  Along with the two deaths within four weeks in neighboring East Wayford, this is raising the question of whether there is a serial killer, or killers, at large in the area.  The Governor’s Office has issued a statement indicating that the officials from both towns are scheduling a joint news conference.  Stay tuned for the latest updates coming up on the late news.”

“De ja vu!” said Maggie as her and Max clicked their glasses together.

“Are you guys celebrating that?” asked Jerry, meaning the news flash.

“Not at all.” said Max, “We’re just celebrating the fact that we have never seen that particular property.”

“Amen to that, Mates” said Jerry, with a rare seriousness.  He then went on to inquire how their junket to Cape Cod turned out.

The couple described the weekend. Jerry was amused at the story about their having gotten “slightly blitzed” at the tennis club in Hyannis.

“Maggie even won a woman couples tournament!”  Max bragged humorously.

“Was there a big prize?” asked Jerry, jokingly.

“Yeah” said Maggie, “Balls!”

“So said the Queen, if I had ‘em I’d be King!” guffawed Jerry, re-working an old joke.

“We had better order some supper to go with our next martini” quipped Max.

After a relaxing meal Max suggested that Maggie come over to his apartment where they could reassess the day’s events. Maggie accepted his invitation, a first at that venue for the couple.

“Separate cars?” she asked teasingly.

“Separate work times come morning, separate cars.” he responded.  Maggie nodded in agreement.

By Thursday, following the Memorial Day weekend, a press conference had been arranged. At 10:15 AM a group of eighteen reporters, photographers, camera men, sound and lighting technicians were assembled on the sidewalk in front of the Sheffield Town Administrative building.

On the steps were Sheffield First Selectman Everet “Doc” Franklin, Connecticut State Police Inspector Don Chace, and East Wayford Chief of Police Louis Devaro.

Doc Franklin introduced himself to the crowd and cameras and then he introduced the other two.  Doc then turned the microphone over to Inspector Chace for an update on the Sheffield killing.

Chace explained that, based on preliminary tests and information, the death was now being investigated as a homicide.

He reported that the victim was a sixty-two year old male and a resident of Greenville, Connecticut but his family’s attorney had requested anonymity until some relatives who were out of the country could be notified.

He mentioned that the owners of the crime scene property were away at the time of the killing and were not part of the investigation.  Chace went on to say that the owners were shocked at what had occurred and, as concerned parents, didn’t want their children exposed to the media attention.  While waiting to get back into the house they had a private property sign made up.  It was now posted at the driveway entrance.  The family had requested that they be given privacy.

Chief Devaro summarized the two homicides in East Wayford in a like manner, and explained that due to similarities in the crimes, the State Police Commander had assigned Inspector Chace to assist in investigating all three. He reported that there were no suspects as yet.  Doc Franklin then opened up the conference for questions from the media.

The questioning session ran for approximately ten minutes, and all three speakers took turns addressing the questions.  When the questions began to move toward redundancy, Doc Franklin thanked the media for attending the conference and ended the session.

Chief Devaro and Inspector Chace drove back to East Wayford in the inspector’s car.  Along the way, Don Chace updated the chief on some specifics in his investigation that were ‘not for publication’.  First, he mentioned that during his interview with the Old Persia Road property owners he was shown damage done to some shrubbery along their driveway and they had asked for reimbursement.  Doc Franklin agreed to process the request, but the interesting thing was that Chace was sure that the damage wasn’t caused by any of the police or emergency medical people.  He had taken pictures of the shrubbery and some tire tracks.  He advised the chief that possibly a second, unidentified vehicle could have been involved.

The other matter Chace brought up was about the trip that he made to Greenville the previous day.  Although he didn’t get any important information regarding the victim from the Greenville police personnel, a drive by the residence of the car’s owner was startling because of the style and scale of the property.  It was a multi-million dollar piece of real estate.

While in Greenville Don Chace had hooked up with a fellow state police inspector that he worked with over the years and he was expecting to hear back from him soon.  His friend the inspector, when hearing of Chace’s East Wayford assignment venue, had mentioned that a frequent visitor to the Greenville/Grandford area was from East Wayford.  He was an auction house owner known as Carl Jenson.  This bit of information related by Don Chace intrigued Chief Devaro.

“Hmm…that’s a weird coincidence, I know Carl,” said the chief, “he’s a Chamber of Commerce member, a church going family man, and he’s respected locally as a shrewd businessman.

“Is that Max Hargrove’s employer?” asked Chace.

“Yes,” responded the chief, “Max has worked for Carl at Jenson & Associates auction house for quite a few years now. Max Hargrove is an expert real estate consultant.  He inspects the properties going up for auction and provides documented evaluations that Jenson uses to set a minimum acceptable bid.”

They arrived back at the East Wayford headquarters and each went to his respective office to check messages.

Soon after, Chief Devaro was leaving for lunch and he poked his head into Don Chace’s office doorway.

“Here are the notes from Salvadore on his investigation, maybe they’ll help to connect some of the dots.” he said as he handed over a thin manila portfolio.

“Thanks, every little bit helps.” quipped the inspector with just the slightest hint of skepticism.

Minutes later Don Chace, having injected an additional item into his investigation agenda, left for an impromptu visit to ask Francine Stanley a few questions.  He had noticed her name on a copy of the sign-in register from the open house at Old Persia Road in Sheffield.  Her office was the only East Wayford address on the list.  Since it was located nearby, he felt it would be a good place to start.  Also, among the few notes in Salvadore’s file, a log of his activity listed a visit at the Stanley Realty address with one of Francine’s employees.

When he arrived at Stanley Realty Inc. the only person in the office was Francine, doing phone duty, as was typical.  Inspector Chace introduced himself, revealed his badge ID, and told her the reason for his visit. Francine was cordial although rather reserved.

They sat in Francine’s office as Chace inquired about anything unusual that she might have noticed during her attendance at the open house in Sheffield.  Francine had not.  Chace asked if he could speak to the other employee who accompanied her that day.  Chace had never met Francine before this, but having expertise in body language, he observed that this question made her appear nervous.

“Oh, do you mean Carrie?” responded Francine, “She isn’t exactly an employee. She is a sales-license trainee. I brought her with me so that she could get an experience at a brokers open house.” explained Francine.

“I see,” said Chace, “did any of your regular employees attend?”

“Oh no”, answered Francine, “I only have one employee, that’s Maggie.  She is licensed but she isn’t a salesperson, per se.”

Next Chace asked; “Would that be Ms. Marshall?”  Francine answered in the affirmative and went on to describe Maggie’s specialty.  She then informed him, though he hadn’t asked, that all other salespeople in her office were licensed, independent contractor associates.

Because Francine went into so much detail about the status of her staff, Chace began to think that the nervousness he noticed might be due to that issue. He was aware of the fact that the labor department had been tough with real estate brokers, over the years, as to how they listed their associates.

“Is the trainee here today?” he asked abruptly.  Obviously nervous now, Francine told Chace that ‘Miss Slavonic’ had the day off.

Chace thanked Francine for her time and turned to leave.

“Oh, one last thing,” he said, looking back at her, “I have a note that shows that a Detective Salvadore of the East Wayford Police came here a few weeks back to interview ‘an employee,’ he said, making quote marks in the air with his fingers.  “Would that have been referring to Carrie Slavonic?”  Francine was startled.

“I…I don’t know…Oh, no, that would have been Maggie Marshall that he came to see.”

Inspector Chace thanked her again and then he went on his way. Francine was relieved that he left. 
That man does make me nervous.
She thought.

Next on Don Chace’s agenda was Carl Jenson.  Chace was really curious about the reason for Jenson’s frequent visits to the Grandford/Greenville area.  When he heard of it from his associate there were no details as to why he went there. 
Hell, it’s a free country, he’s free to go wherever he wants to, but frequent visits must have a reason.  The latest killing victim lived there,
he summarized while on the way to the Jenson & Associates Office,
also, both of the East Wayford killings were in properties inspected for auction by Jenson’s company.

Carl Jenson was in his office when Chace arrived and agreed to meet with the inspector.  “I’m pleased to meet you, Inspector Chace, I was glad to hear that you are helping out with the homicide investigation here.  Call me Carl, everybody does”, he said as he shook Chace’s hand.  After exchanging pleasantries, the inspector spoke directly.

“Well Carl, since I was working in the area we’ve had another apparent homicide, right next door in Sheffield, I’m sure you’ve heard about that, and I‘ve been assigned to investigate that case as well.”  With a grave look Carl remarked, solemnly,

“Yes, I did hear about that.  These killings are horrible. The concern is becoming more and more vocal in the community.”

Carl’s rather sudden switch in tone surprised Chace.  It seemed almost rehearsed, for some reason.  Chace had his notebook in his hand and hesitated before he said,

“Both of the homicides in East Wayford occurred in properties that had been auctioned, or set for auction, by Jenson & Associates, is that correct?”

Carl Jenson’s demeanor became more guarded as he looked at Chace with a curious, one-eyebrow- raised expression.  His ruddy complexion seemed to get a little ruddier.

“Actually, Inspector, one property was auctioned by us but the bid, the only bid, fell through.  It’s now back on the market.”

“Listed with Stanley Realty?” Chace interjected with a question.

“Well, yes, I believe it is.” returned Carl, frowning, “As I was saying,” he continued, “the other property was inspected for appraisal, but the contract is in limbo because of the homicide there.”  Chace thanked him for that information as he made corrections in his notes.

Carl Jenson seemed to relax as Chace hesitated for a moment.  Then the inspector spoke;

“This is my last question, Do you, as Jenson Associates, conduct any business in the Grandford, or Greenville Connecticut, area?”  Carl seemed jolted by the question.  With an obviously forced calmness he asked, “Why do you ask that?”  Chace realized that he had become a little too obvious.

“I was just trying to decipher my scribbles.” Chace explained as he made an exaggerated crossing-off motion on his pad.

At that, Chace rose from his chair and turned toward the office exit. He stopped, turned back to face Jenson with his notebook in one hand and pen in the other.

“Oh, by the way, you did say that you heard that the victim from the Sheffield killing was a resident of Greenville, didn’t you?” he asked, probing for Jenson’s reaction.

Carl Jenson, trying to be cordial as he was seeing Chace to the door, looked around as if to see who might have overheard the question.  Quietly but peevishly, he answered,

“I don’t remember mentioning it but I did hear that.”

“Okay, thanks very much for your time.” Chace said, as he made a final check mark on his pad.

Chace then left the office of Jenson & Associates with a red faced, seemingly irritated Carl Jenson waving him off.  On the way back to his East Wayford Office Chace was reflecting on the interview. 
Hard one to figure,
thought the inspector,
his body language speaks volumes but what the hell is it saying? Maybe it’s a personality quirk, or maybe not. We’ll see.

After a long day, he headed off on his twenty five minute commute to his home.  His wife and three daughters hadn’t seen much of him lately.