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Authors: Diane Weiner

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths

Murder Is Secondary (6 page)

BOOK: Murder Is Secondary
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Chapter 18

Julie had been living with the fear that someone at the SAC meeting would have noticed that she had arrived late and may have decided to tell that to the police. She was thankful that that nosy custodian hadn’t seen her. It’s a shame that he saw Tank though. Anyhow, tonight she was going to put all worries aside and focus on enjoying the evening.

Julie felt like a school girl. Let’s see, her last real date had probably been twenty years ago. Julie and Tank had worked next door to each other for the past decade and gradually had become good friends. Tank was married when they first met, and, besides, the last thing on Julie’s mind at that time would have been a relationship. Things had changed though. She had decided to take a risk.

Julie slipped into her favorite black dress, and put her newly-painted toes into a pair of strappy sandals. She had curled her hair and wore it down, but with the sides pulled up into a pearl comb. Then she made her way out to the living room.

“Hey, Joey. How do I look?”

“Mom, you look great. I’m sure you’ll get Mr. Copland’s mind off of the situation, at least for tonight.”

“Thanks. Today’s his birthday. I had to talk him into celebrating it this year. He’d wanted to stay hauled up at home like he’s been doing practically every night since the murder, but then, sadly enough, he decided that he should go out this year. He told me he was worried that all the rest of his birthdays might be spent in prison. Isn’t that awful?”

“That’s terrible. It must really suck to be him right now. They still have other suspects, right?”

“Yes. I know they brought in Danny Trapani for questioning. What looks bad for Tank is that at first he told the police that he’d been at home, alone, watching TV all night. After the witness came forward, of course, it looked terrible that he’d lied.”

“It just doesn’t make much sense to me. Why was he at the school the night of the murder? Hopefully, they will find the real killer and he’ll be off the hook.”

There was a knock at the door. Julie took a peek in the hallway mirror, then answered the door. “Happy Birthday, Tank.”

“I’m not much in the mood for celebrating, but maybe a good meal and some wine will give my mind a little break. You look great, by the way.”

“Thanks, you too,” said Julie. She noticed that his face looked a little thinner and his eyes drooped with fatigue. She caught another glance of herself in the mirror. Maybe she’d be able to cheer him up. “Shall we?” Tank said goodbye to Joey and they got into Tank’s car. They had chosen a restaurant outside of town. Both agreed they would be more comfortable in a place where they weren’t likely to be recognized. Of course, Tank had been in the news quite a bit lately. Would anyone recognize him? Julie hoped not. They followed a road that reminded Julie of the twisty straws that Joey had loved as a preschooler. She had packed one in his lunchbox every day. His preschool teacher had thought that was so cute. His preschool teacher….Julie shuddered. She still couldn’t think about Joey at his ground floor preschool without imagining a blast…smoke…rubble….

“So, has Joey gotten all his applications in?” asked Tank.

“Yes. Now we play the waiting game. He really has his heart set on MIT.”

“He’s brilliant,” said Tank. “I can’t imagine him not getting in. He has the grades and
 
great SAT scores.”

“Yes, but they’re looking for so much more these days. They want leadership experiences, volunteer hours, travel….”

“Well, didn’t he spend last summer out in West Virginia volunteering?” asked Tank.

“Yeah. He built houses with Habitat for Humanity. The boy hardly knows which end of a hammer to hold, growing up without a father and all. I can’t believe he was actually able to build houses.” Julie glanced at the rear view mirror and noticed a car following rather closely behind them. Tank had noticed it also.

“That guy needs to get off my tail and turn down his high beams,” said Tank. Tank sped up a bit, but so did the car behind him. “This is dangerous, him following so closely on these curvy roads at night. I hope he isn’t drunk or something.” Tank hit the gas to try to create space but the car sped up and remained on his tail. The two-lane road was flanked with a thick blanket of pine trees. There wasn’t much shoulder to speak of. Julie felt a knot in her stomach.

“Maybe you should call the police,” said Tank. He continued to speed up, but again the car followed suit. “When I can find a bit of shoulder, I’m going to pull over. See if you can get the license number as he goes by,” said Tank.

Julie dialed 911, her fingers quivering as she entered the numbers. “Tank, I’m really getting scared,” she said. She reached the 911 operator. “Tank, where should I tell her we are?” Julie heard the brakes screech like nails on a chalkboard. Tank abruptly pulled his car over to the side of the road. The other car sped past, nearly hitting the driver’s side door. Julie tried to memorize the license number, but could barely see it in the dark.

“Tell her we’re on Creaky Hollow Road, about 10 miles outside of Westbrook.”

Julie repeated Tank’s directions. “Yes, it was a dark colored sedan––black or maybe dark blue. I copied down the first three digits of the license plate,” she told the operator. She had put the phone on speaker.

“Wait there,” said the operator. “I’m sending a patrol car now.”

The patrol car arrived in no time and Julie repeated the description of the car and the digits she was able to get from the license plate.

“Did the driver appear to be driving as if he were under the influence of drugs or alcohol?” asked the officer.

“No,” answered Tank. “He wasn’t veering off the road at all and was staying on my tail the entire time. I’d say he was quite alert and sober.”

“Was he trying to pass you maybe? Did you cut him off earlier or anything like that?” asked the officer.

“No, not at all. He appeared out of nowhere and his goal appeared to be simply to stay on my tail.”

“Any enemies that may have wanted to cause you trouble?”

“Well, you know I’ve been in the news lately as a suspect in the Amber Bernstein case. No one has confronted me about it. Wait. Maybe it was Amber’s father. He sure made some vocal threats to me. I’ll bet it was him.”

“That sounds quite possible. We’ll check him out,” said the officer. “We’ll get right on it. Meanwhile, we’ll see if we can get anything from the digits your girlfriend got off the plates.”

Girlfriend?
thought Julie.
That has a nice ring to it. What am I crazy? Here we are lucky to be alive, dealing with a dreadful threat and I’m flushing at the word girlfriend.

“Did you notice any other cars on the road? Perhaps there was a witness.”

“No, I don’t think so. You didn’t see anyone did you?” Tank turned to Julie.

“No. No one.”

“Well, try to enjoy the rest of your evening,” said the officer. “We’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” said Tank. After the police car left, he led Julie back into his car.

“Well, that was enough excitement for one evening,” said Tank. “I’ll bet anything it was Amber’s father.”

“Yeah,” said Julie. Her voice was flat and she rubbed her wrist as she answered. “Must be.”

They decided to forgo the restaurant in lieu of takeout. Julie called for food during the ride back into town. When they reached her apartment, she set the table, set out a few candles, and they enjoyed a romantic dinner in spite of the night’s events. All evening, they had both avoided talking about the case. When they’d almost finished eating, Julie heard the key in the front door.

“Joey, I didn’t realize you were out. You said you’d be home studying, so I assumed you were in your room,” said Julie. “And what’s on your jeans? It looks like dirt.”

“Well, umm, I needed to pick up my notes from Kwan’s house.” He didn’t look Julie in the eye as he put the keys back on the hall table. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were going over to the Lotus Tree Inn?”

“We were, but there was a change of plans.” Julie relayed the whole story to Joey.

“What?” said Joey, “It had to be Amber’s father. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree in that family. Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll straighten him out. No one is going to hurt you.”

“Honey, I love how much you care, but leave this to the police. Mr. Bernstein may be very upset and irrational right now, but he is an educated man and he is certainly familiar with the law. Even if he was trying to scare us tonight, I don’t believe he’d cross the line and physically harm anyone.”

“Mom, people do all sorts of things when they’re angry. You need to be careful.”

“I will, and so will Mr. Copland, right?” She looked at Tank.

“That’s right. But it wasn’t your mom he was after; it was me.”

“Joey, no one is going to hurt anyone. The police are looking into it.”

“Okay, Mom. Goodnight, and Happy Birthday, Mr. Copland.”

“Thanks, Joey. I think I’ll be heading home. I’m a bit worn out now too.”

Julie walked Tank to the door and watched him drive away.
No one is going to touch anyone I love,
thought Julie.
Never again
.

Chapter 19

Babies and Such––
this had become one of Susan’s favorite hangouts ever since she found out she was having a grandchild. As soon as you walked in, there were racks of miniature clothing sorted by ages and sex. Susan went to the blue side first.

“Come on, Lynette. One little ten-minute ultrasound and we could know whether to stay here in babyboy land or explore the pink racks.”

“Mom. You know that Jason and I had always said we wanted to be surprised. Just be patient,” said Lynette.

“It’s not like knowing will change anything. That’s either a little boy or a little girl in there. If we know the sex we can bond even more before he or she is born. Besides, it would make shopping for baby things infinitely easier.”

“Sorry, Mom, you’re just going to have to wait a few more months. We’re supposed to be looking at car seats anyway. I’d say they are unisex so we’ll be just fine.”

“Okay, the car seats are in the back.” Susan led the way through the high chairs, beyond the cribs, and to the car seat aisle.

“You know, when you were little we didn’t have all this selection. Not everyone even used a car seat.” They inspected the array of choices.

“How are we supposed to choose?” said Lynette. “If you read the boxes, they all have similar features.”

As they were looking at the different models, Susan heard Lynette’s ring tone.

“Sorry, Mom. Let me take this. Jackson was going to call me with some information this morning.”

“Yes, she did say a dark sedan. The plates don’t match Mr. Bernstein’s? A rental? Okay, thanks, Jackson.” Lynette put the phone back into her pocket.

“Was that about Tank’s case?” asked Susan.

“You know I’m not supposed to discuss work with you, Mom.”

“But this is different. You’re not discussing work; you’re sharing information with me because I asked you to help out our family friend. You know you won’t win this one.”

Lynette hesitated before relaying the events of the previous night. Susan’s observation about Tank and Julie being romantically involved was now confirmed. Susan immediately suspected Amber’s father of being the driver.

“I’ll bet it was Amber’s father. Am I right? He drives a dark sedan and he’s been spouting his mouth off about getting revenge on Amber’s killer. I know he thinks Tank killed her.”

“We thought it might have been his car, but the plates didn’t check out,” said Lynette. “It turns out that the car was a rental.”

“Well, can’t you find out who rented it?” said Susan.

“Unfortunately, whoever rented it gave a fictitious license. We’re all pretty trusting in this town. The rental agent didn’t inspect the identification. In fact, he didn’t even notice that the person had signed the paperwork ‘John Doe.’ How brazen is that?”

“Well, if it wasn’t Amber’s father, who could it have been? Do you think it was a random person who thought Tank was guilty?” asked Susan.

“I doubt it. The only person who’s threatened Tank at all is Amber’s father. If someone else was after Tank, I imagine he would have sent threats first. Usually these things escalate. Trying to run someone off the road would probably not have been the first course of action.”

“What now?”

“The crime lab guys are going over the car. We have to wait and see if anything turns up. Meanwhile, I’ll go by Julie’s and see if she has anything to add.”

“She’ll be at work right now.”

“That’s right. I can wait until school lets out.”

“Can we still get lunch then?”

“Sure. I’m starving. Burger Shack? Wait, you and Dad are still on your diets.”

“Well, I’m sure they have salads. Burger Shack sounds good to me.” Experience should have told her that she was not going to order the salad…or
just
the salad.
One little cheeseburger couldn’t hurt,
she thought. It takes 3500 calories to add a pound of fat. Surely one cheeseburger would barely make a dent in her progress. She was salivating already. No sooner had they made it into the parking lot when they were accosted by Amber’s parents.


Babies and Such
, huh? Out on a nice little shopping spree with your mom, while my daughter’s killer is roaming the streets. My wife won’t ever be able to go shopping with Amber again. Not for a prom dress, not for a bridal gown, and never for baby clothes. There will be no grandchildren for us.” Mr. Bernstein reeked of smoke. His voice was gruff and authoritative. Once again, Susan noticed the veins popping out of his neck.

“My entire family has been taken away from me,” said Mrs. Bernstein. “First Amber and now my husband. He will never be himself again and neither will I.” The words were sincere, but her voice was flat and monotonous, in contrast to her husband’s. It sounded as if Mrs. Bernstein was on some heavy sedatives. Susan couldn’t imagine being in her shoes.

“You will pay for this,” continued Mr. Bernstein. “The School Board, the Westbrook Police Department. I’ll destroy them all singlehandedly if my daughter’s killer isn’t found soon. Incompetence will not be tolerated.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Bernstein, we are doing everything we can. We will find your daughter’s killer,” said Lynette. Mr. Bernstein spit at her, then grabbed his wife’s hand and stormed back to his car.

BOOK: Murder Is Secondary
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