Corin & Angelique (After the Fall of Night) (15 page)

“I’m trustworthy, Sheriff. It’s not like he picked me out of the yellow pages.
I’m his neighbor.”

There was a brief silent pause before Pierson continued.

“Since I’ve found you here,
Mr. Jaffler, I’d like to ask you something about your wife. Did she happen to have an illness?”

“No. Why do you ask?”

“There were some irregularities in her blood work.”

“She was sick and didn’t know it? What was wrong with her?” Tomes wanted
to know.

“I can’t answer that for you yet. Forensics is running a more thorough
analysis. I’ll let you know the results when I get them. It’ll most likely be several days.”

“Be sure to do that.”

Pierson nodded. “Tell me, do you know anything about a woman named Sandy Darnell?”

“Only that she’s the real estate agent found murdered over in
Black River Falls. It’s breaking news. You can’t turn on the TV or radio without hearing about it.”

Pierson silently cursed, hating the media.
“I’ve recently discovered that Mr. von Vadim acquired one of her business cards from Purcell’s Garage the very night of her death, mere hours before her murder. Would you happen to know what interest he might have had in meeting with her?”

“I’d assume it was concerning real estate. What else could it have been?”

Tomes shifted nervously, the business card in question tucked away in his wallet, a flaming ember burning in his back pocket.

“That’s what I’m trying to discern, Mr. Jaffler. So, you don’t know if he ever
made contact with her?” Sheriff Pierson continued to probe. “If he did, it’s very likely he was the last person to communicate with her before the attack.”

“Sorry. I can’t help you. But I’ll let Corin know you were here.”

“Mr. von Vadim has become a person of interest, and he shouldn’t avoid me.”

“If you think Corin had anything at all to do with that poor woman’s death, you’re way off base,” Tomes stated.

“And you know this for fact? A man you’ve known for only a month and you
can defend him so wholeheartedly?”

“He didn’t do it, Sheriff.”

“I hope you’re right, Mr. Jaffler.”

“You should be out there hunting down the real killer, instead of wasting your
time here, harassing the innocent. My wife lies dead in her grave and you’re standing here, making false accusations.”

“We’re following every available lead, I assure you, one of which led me right
here, to this very door.”

“Well, you’ve apparently missed a trail somewhere along the way, because
you’re sniffing in the wrong place. Corin didn’t kill my wife, or that real estate agent.”

“How do I know the two of you aren’t in this together?” Sheriff Pierson threw
the accusation at him.

“I didn’t kill my wife. Louisa meant everything to me. I would have given my
life for her. And if I find the SOB that did kill her before you do, Sheriff, you’ll be collecting him in pieces,” Tomes declared, his voice rising with emotion.

“You can’t go taking the law into your own hands. That’s not the answer,”
Pierson warned him. “You may see it as justice served, but it would be murder. I have enough to worry about without adding vigilantes to the list.”

Tomes held his tongue, knowing he’d already said too much. He’d allowed his
emotions to get the better of him.

“Well, I’ll be on my way.” Sheriff Pierson handed him a card. “Let Mr. von
Vadim know I’ll be waiting for his call.”

Tomes took the card and watched while Sheriff Pierson sauntered to his SUV.

He turned back before getting in. “One other thing, Mr. Jaffler, what job did you say you were doing for Mr. von Vadim?”

“I didn’t say, Sheriff. But to answer your question, at present I’m doing some
repairs on the south wall. There’s some stone damage and roof leakage I’m attending to.”

“Very good.” Pierson waved, got in his vehicle, and departed.

Bothered by the visit, Tomes, was more anxious than ever for the day to pass so Corin would awaken. Earlier, when he’d arrived at the estate, he’d headed for the basement, finding Corin’s note on the door. Even though he had news, he’d decided to let him rest, knowing there was nothing he could do till nightfall.

* * * *

Sheriff Pierson received a call from the station. Patricia Watson was there requesting to see him.

“I’m really sorry, Sheriff, but she says it’s urgent,” Officer Traci Keller told
him. “She insists on waiting.”

“It’s okay, Traci. I’m on my way back from Hixton as we speak.”

When Sheriff Pierson arrived, he found Ms.Watson in an anxious state.

“Ms. Watson,” he greeted. “What is it you’re needing to see me about?”

“Please, Allen, I wish you’d call me Patricia,” she said.

“My apologies, Patricia, I’ll remember that.”

“I have something to show you.” She caught hold of his arm, whispering as if it were top secret. “Is there someplace private we can view a tape?” She revealed a

VHS tape tucked away in her oversized purse.

“Come with me.” Sheriff Pierson led her to a small conference room containing a rectangular table, ten accompanying chairs, and a TV and multiplayer system set up on a rolling stand.

“
You don’t see these too much anymore. What’s on it?” He took the tape and inserted it into the player before joining her at the table with the remote control in hand.

“It’s a surveillance video from the hospital blood bank. And you’re not going
to believe what we’ve caught on it. I can hardly believe it myself.”

He started the tape, listening to Patricia explain what they were viewing. He
observed a nurse entering the blood storage room by use of an access card, collecting two bags, and leaving.

“Keep your eyes on the screen.” She motioned with a wagging finger. “This is
it.”

Sheriff Pierson watched with heightened interest as a male figure suddenly
appeared in the room, materializing right out of thin air.

“Where did he come from?”

“That’s what we can’t figure out. And you see, he’s leaving with several bags of blood,” she pointed out.

“Maybe he was already in the room when the nurse entered,” the sheriff
proposed. “Hiding somewhere.”

“No. The camera picks up every inch of it.”

“How many employees have access cards?” he moved closer to the screen.

“Quite a few—doctors, nurses, and others. You can’t get into the room without
one.”

Sheriff Pierson was stumped. He rewound the video to the point where the
nurse entered the room to view it again, pressing pause when something of interest caught his eye.

“What do you make of that?” He indicated what appeared to be a faint foggy
vapor moving in behind the nurse.

Patricia scooted next to him. “The tape’s so fuzzy, it’s hard to tell what it is.
Could it be a shadow?”

“I don’t think so.” He let the tape play on. “It slips in behind her, takes a turn
to the right, and then lingers against the wall until she leaves? And look, it’s that same vapor that materializes into the man. It has to be a trick, but for the life of me, I can’t figure it out.”

“I wish the tape was clearer. You can’t make out his face. We’ll never be able
to identify him with this picture.”

“The room’s too dark. Fix the lighting and you’ll have a better picture next
time. You might also consider a higher resolution camera, and going digital.”

“The budget won’t allow for a new system right now. What we’re using was
pulled from storage,” she told him. “And hopefully there won’t be a next time.”

“There has to be a logical explanation. People don’t just magically appear out
of thin air.” Sheriff Pierson refused to accept the possibility of paranormal activity.

“I know I’d certainly feel a whole lot better if you could clarify this one for
me.”

“I wish I could,” Pierson said. “He moves strangely for a man, don’t you
think?”

“He wriggles side to side…snakelike.” Patricia watched as the thief tucked the
bags of vital fluid beneath his full body length overcoat.

“That coat he’s wearing should help with identifying him. It’s certainly
different. The buttons stand out, even with the picture blurred. I think someone would have noticed it.”

“It’s hard to be certain, but they look like cabochon gems,” she agreed. “Far
from ordinary. I’ll ask around the floor…see if anyone recollects.”

And what’s that, a necklace?” Sheriff Pierson drew her attention to a shiny
object hanging in the upper vicinity of the man’s chest.

“Yes, I believe it is, maybe a dark-colored stone. He seems to like his gems.
You really do have a trained eye, Allen.”

“It’s not much to go on, but every little bit helps.” That he’d impressed her
made his day. “I’ll send this over to the lab. Maybe they can clean it up, give us something more to identify him by.” He stopped the tape and got up to retrieve it.

“The blood…what do you think he took it for?”

“I have no idea, but he’s definitely getting added to my suspect list.”

“You mean for the murders? You think our burglar could be the killer?”

“It’s a strong possibility. You should tighten security until we get a handle on things,” he suggested. “And you should be careful yourself.”

“This is all a bit disturbing
. But I feel better knowing you’re handling things,” she told him. “Say, Allen, would you care to join me for a late lunch, or have you already eaten?”

“No, matter of fact, I haven’t. I could use a little something.”

“Wonderful,” Patricia smiled. “Let’s go.”

Heading out, Sheriff Pierson handed the
surveillance tape marked “urgent” to Officer Traci, along with implicit instructions for the lab regarding its cleanup.

“Have a nice lunch.” Traci tossed him a teasing wink.

Sheriff Pierson hustled Patricia out, attempting to thwart any further attempts by the officers to share potentially embarrassing remarks. He’d tried not to be so transparent, but he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself. He might have been embarking on a somewhat official outing with Patricia, but there was no mistaking the chemistry.

* * * *

Angelique stood at the fence line, a distance behind the barn. Two foals frolicked in the pasture, running and kicking up their heels while the unaffected mares grazed on the fresh grass of the newly opened field. Startled by a hand grabbing her shoulder, she whirled around with an accompanying yelp. Finding herself staring into the face of a stranger, she cautiously backed away from him.

“Sorry if I scared you. Ms. Jaffler, I presume?”

“Yes. Who are you?”

“I’m Marshal Jordon Black.” He held out
a badge. “I’m here investigating Louisa Jaffler’s death. I was hoping to ask you a few questions, if it’s not too inconvenient a time.”

Angelique hesitated, wary of the man
despite seeing his badge. With his faded jeans and long hair pulled back in a ponytail, he wasn’t at all what she expected a marshal to look like. And uncomfortable with the way he’d wandered onto their back grounds, she figured he was most likely snooping, thinking no one was around.

“I guess I can spare a few minutes
,” she finally said.

“Let me just get to it, then. The victim was your
sister-in-law?”

“Yes. Louisa was my brother’s wife.”

“Your brother, Tomes Jaffler,” Jordon confirmed.

“That’s right, Marshal. Isn’t all of this on record?”

Angelique, suddenly reconsidering the questioning, moved into defensive mode. She had been through this same ordeal several times now and didn’t care to repeat the “twenty questions routine” yet again.

“Yes, it is, Ms. Jaffler, but if you don’t mind, I just want to make certain
nothing was overlooked. You’re not a suspect, if that’s your concern. I assure you.”

“And my brother, can you say the same about him?”

“I’m not here to accuse you, or your brother, of anything. I just want to ask a few questions. People often recall things in the aftermath of a tragedy that they’d initially blanked out, or thought little of at the time. Shock can also do strange things to the mind.”

“I’ve thought about that night a thousand times. There’s nothing more, trust
me. I wish there was.”

“What about earlier in the evening? Would you mind telling me what you do
remember?”