Dead Lies (19 page)

“This could be something,” she said.

“What?”

“I’m not sure if it’s anything…”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“Okay,” she said, handing him the statements. “Compare this entry to the others I’ve underlined.”

She watched his eyes move over the pages. “Five hundred and sixty dollars is a weird amount to take out, given how all their other withdrawals were in multiples of a hundred, don’t you think? And look how all the other withdrawals came from HSBC banks in New York. But the $560 was taken from a Wachovia in Avondale.”

Kreeger looked skeptical. “An Avondale withdrawal isn’t weird at all. The couple
lived
here. Think about it. It’s December. It’s the start of the holiday season. Maybe the couple was out Christmas shopping. Maybe Serena looked in a store window and saw a pair of shoes she wanted. Maybe they cost exactly $560.”

Anna snorted. “Five hundred and sixty dollars is a lot of money for a pair of shoes.”

“Not in
this
town.”

Anna silently conceded, recalling Web saying a thousand dollars wasn’t a lot of money.

“Okay Jerry, you’re right, but even if Serena did see something she wanted
,
she would not have taken out cash to pay for it. She would have used her Visa card.” She reached for another folder and read from the list of recent credit card purchases the couple had made. “Exxon, Banana Republic, Bloomingdale’s, TeleCharge, King’s Supermarket, Barnes & Noble… The Vances charged everything from gas to groceries.”

“You’re right,” Kreeger nodded. “The withdrawal is the only off thing we’ve found in this couple’s incredibly well-ordered life, so that fact alone makes it worth pursuing.” He looked at Anna. “Good work. Now, get in touch with Wachovia. Ask them to check the video and find out who made the transaction.”

“I’ll call the bank,” Anna said.

Kreeger pulled the pages over and studied them while she spent the next few minutes on the phone with the bank manager. “They’re going to pull the video for us,” she told Kreeger when she hung up. “It’ll take about a half hour. Want me to go over there and pick it up?”

“Not yet. While you were on the phone, I noticed something else.” He pointed to a page. “The date of that $560 withdrawal was December 1, and that was a Wednesday. The time stamp on the bank statement indicates the withdrawal was made at 7:49 a.m. That’s a little early for shopping, don’t you think? And on a day most people would normally be working.” He stood up. “C’mon, let’s go ask Wilmer what the couple was doing that morning. Maybe their electronic organizers will tell us if they had any notable appointments.”

Wilmer Cuddy wasn’t at his desk. They found him munching a Snicker’s bar in the lunch room. A half-empty bottle of Yoo-Hoo sat next to him on the table.

Kreeger told the tech expert what they needed, and they followed him into the computer room. They watched Wilmer’s fingers dance nimbly over one of the couple’s devices for a few seconds. He looked up and said, “Bill had an 8:30 a.m. appointment at someplace called “JK&M.” He moved on to the second device and said, “Serena had no appointments that day.”

“JK&M…I have no idea what that is,” Kreeger said. “Do you?”

“No.”

“Googling it,” Wilmer said, already ticking away at his IPhone keypad. His fingers moved at the speed of lightning. “Too many listings here,” he said finally. “Lots of names…a store…”

“Could be a law office,” Kreeger said, thanking Wilmer and turning to Anna. “I’m going to call Bill Vance’s office,” he said as they walked down the hall together. “Maybe his boss can tell me what it means. You go back to the conference room and call Serena’s office. Find out if she did anything that day that she didn’t write down.”

“Got it.”

Kreeger returned to the conference room just as she was placing the receiver back in its cradle. “Bill Vance and his boss were both at the same meeting the morning of December 1,” he said. “At a company called Dale, Kirke & Markham. It’s a law firm in midtown…” He stopped. “What?”

Anna’s face must have given away her excitement. “Wait ’til you hear this. Serena’s partner told me she didn’t come in to work that day. The night before, she called him to say she was taking a personal day.” She paused for effect. “And she took
another
last-minute personal day on the ninth.”

Kreeger’s face was impassive as he absorbed the information and considered the possibilities. He picked up his notebook and flipped some pages. He slid the phone on the desk over to him and dialed.

“Hello Web, this is Jerry Kreeger,” he said into the mouthpiece. “I need to ask you something.” Pause. “Did you know your sister took two personal days from work in December? One on the first and another on the ninth.” He listened for a minute. “No, I don’t have any information. We’re just checking things out. I’ll let you know when we learn something.” Another pause. “Thanks for your help. Goodbye.”

He hung up and looked at Anna. “Web had no idea Serena had taken those personal days. He spoke to her on the phone every day—sometimes two or three times—and she never mentioned it.” He paused. “Of course, that doesn’t mean she was hiding something from…”

“It does when you consider how close Serena and Web were,” Anna interrupted, understanding how incredibly strong the twin bond was. “And if it was so innocent—maybe she
was
just going Christmas shopping—she definitely would have mentioned it. I mean, what else do you talk about than the minutiae of your day when you speak to someone as frequently as this brother and sister did?

Kreeger nodded. “You’re right.” He checked the bank statements still sitting on the table in front of him. “Hm, there were no withdrawals made on the ninth.”

“But what does that mean?”

“Nothing yet. We need more.” He cocked his head in a let’s-think gesture and thought some more. Then he said, “Do you know where that Wachovia branch is?”

“On Main Street, right in the center of town.”

He nodded. “You know Avondale better than I do. And are there other bank machines closer to Serena’s house?”

“Yes. There’s one at the A & P on Oak Street, and another one right outside the Library, next to Town Hall. I use that one myself. It’s right near the station. Both of those machines are much closer to Serena’s house than the one on Main.”

“So, she chose that one for a reason. Which means it’s likely she had an appointment nearby.”

Anna closed her eyes, admiring the detective’s quick mind. She worked to keep up. “I think there’s a medical office building next to the bank,” she said, creating a mental picture of the place. “There’s a podiatrist’s office, a chiropractor, a few more I can’t remember.” Her eyes bugged open. “You think she went to see a doctor?”

Kreeger smiled. “Now,
that’s
a possibility. If she was experiencing some sort of medical issue, I can see why she might want to keep it quiet.”

“But why the cash withdrawal?”

“Maybe her insurance wouldn’t cover it? And maybe she forgot her checkbook?”

Kreeger took off his glasses and slipped them in his jacket pocket. “This could turn out to be nothing,” he warned.

Anna shook her head. “You remember that gut feeling you mentioned earlier? Well, I have a feeling about this. Think about it. Nothing on the calendar. No mention to her brother. Her behavior is secretive. And what do we know about secrets? They fester for a while then blow up.”

Kreeger nodded. “Grab your coat. Let’s take a ride to Avondale.”

CHAPTER 20

T
HE SALESWOMAN AT THE PAINTED ROSE LOOKED AT THE PHOTOGRAPH IN
Anna’s hand, and her eyes bugged beneath her oversized tortoise-shell glasses. “The woman who was murdered? No, I don’t remember ever seeing her in here. Lucille, do you?” She motioned to another saleswoman at the back of the store, a pretty, petite blond woman who looked like a typical young Avondale mother, except for the fact that she had a small gold ring through her eyebrow and another piercing through her nostril. She confirmed what the first saleswoman had. Serena had not been to this shop.

Anna wasn’t surprised. The store—which Anna would describe as Arts and Crap—was filled with a quirky mix of expensive items for the home, including carved wooden figurines in half human, half animal forms; misshapen glass vases in bold stripes and patterns; and frilly pillows embroidered with inspirational sayings. Everything in it would’ve clashed with Serena’s elegant sensibility.

She thanked the women and left the store, spotting Kreeger walking toward her from fifty or so yards up the block. His nose was red, his thin cheeks were ruddy, and from his tired expression, she could tell that his canvass had also turned up nothing.

The last few hours hadn’t all been a bust, however. They’d learned Serena had indeed made the withdrawal at the Wachovia branch. The tape showed it all in black and white—every deliberate action—Serena approaching the ATM, slipping her card in, punching some keys, tapping her finger on the machine as she waited, withdrawing the money, folding the bills and tucking them into her tote bag. Her mouth was drawn in a hard line, making her appear impatient, even anxious. After her card and the receipt popped out, she turned, checked her watch and walked purposefully out of picture range. She was on camera for all of forty-five seconds.

In spite of the camera’s limited scope, it was clear Serena had gone somewhere on foot. They could see her car parked on the edge of the videotape, and it had remained there for over an hour after she made the transaction. When she’d returned to the car, she hadn’t been carrying any packages.

Anna was surprised by her own intense reaction to seeing the murdered woman on screen. She’d been transfixed by the “live” Serena—her beautiful face; her strong Nordic coloring; the stylish cut of her belted down coat; and her strong resemblance to her twin brother. She felt a sacred bond with the woman, whose body she’d discovered and whose murderer she hoped to catch. She wondered if Kreeger, too, felt the weight of that responsibility.

She suspected he did. Kreeger may have been the kind of man who kept his emotions to himself, but she could tell he felt things deeply. He wasn’t one of those cynical older cops who, after decades on the job, was now basically phoning it in while trying hard not to feel. It was one of the things Anna liked best about Kreeger. He knew his strength came from his humanity.

They’d retraced Serena’s steps down the path to Main Street and, following Anna’s earlier hunch, gone to the two-story medical building next door. They’d visited every office inside, but they’d learned that Serena had never been a patient in any of them.

Outside again, they’d regrouped. Main Street which stretched out almost a mile in either direction from where they stood, was a busy thoroughfare lined with shops, restaurants, real estate offices, hair salons and pharmacies. Three side streets containing more shops and restaurants cut through it at various points. Serena could have gone to any of those businesses, with the exception of the clothing stores and boutiques that opened at 10:00. She could have met someone for an 8:00 breakfast or had an appointment at one of the beauty salons nearby.

Kreeger had suggested they split up so they could cover more ground. They’d start at the closest establishments and work outward. They’d question as many people as they could, even at stores that would have been closed at that hour. A shopkeeper who’d been in early that day might have seen the woman.

In the last hour, she’d covered a quarter of a mile and about twenty businesses, and she guessed Kreeger had done the same. They still had plenty more to go.

Kreeger stopped when he reached her. “Reminds me of my days on foot patrol,” he said.

Anna slapped her butt. “Yeah, those were the good old days when the donuts didn’t show up here.”

Kreeger eyed her skeptically. “Like you have to worry.”

“Actually, I do. I gained fifteen pounds in my first year of cooking school. I only took it off a few years ago.”

“How’d you do it?”

“I run.”

“Yeah? Me, too. I actually ran a couple of marathons back in the day.” His chest visibly puffed as he said this.

Anna had wondered how Kreeger stayed so slim, considering how much food he’d packed away the other night. She’d assumed his appetite came from being a starving bachelor. She flashed back to the conference room earlier when Kreeger had removed his suit jacket and she’d gotten a glimpse of his powerful arm muscles through his white shirt. The detective was small and lean, but very strong. Like a panther. “New York?”

“Yeah, I ran it in ’90, ’91 and ’92,” he said.

“I’m impressed. I ran it in 2002. But once was enough for me. I’ll never forget what it felt like hitting the wall at mile 22. I practically had to drag myself the last four.”

He smiled. “Where do you run now?”

“Sometimes on the street, sometimes in Dunkerhook Park.” She loved the beautiful wooded trail that ran along the Saddle River from Ridgewood to Patterson. “I start at the Duck Pond in Ridgewood.”

“I go to Dunkerhook, too. But I park in Paramus.” He added, “But maybe I’ll have to start coming to Ridgewood.”

They were silent for a few seconds. “How’s Max?” he asked.

“He’s fine, thanks. My mom’s staying with me for a few days. She’s watching him for me.”

“And how’s the tattoo?”

She laughed.

“I have an idea,” he said.

She felt her face flush. “What?”

“Let’s go get a cup of coffee. I need a break, and we can talk this Serena thing through. I’m starting to think we might be on a wild goose chase.”

Anna had been worried about that too. And yet it felt good to be out of the office. She preferred trails made of asphalt over ones made of paper.

“How about Starbucks?” she said. It was less than a block away and one of the stores Kreeger had hit on his route.

Kreeger raised his eyebrow in mock horror. “On a cop’s salary?”

“What can I say? I have expensive tastes when it comes to food and drink.”

When they entered the coffee shop, she was happy to see Jessie was back manning the machines. Casey was there too, at the register, which surprised Anna because she thought he was going to the wake. She looked at her watch. It was 4:30. Maybe he was going to the evening session, the one she was going to.

Jessie spotted her and winked. He called out her usual order and she gave him the thumbs-up.

“Come here often?” Kreeger quipped. He turned to Casey and ordered coffee, black. Casey didn’t ask what size he wanted, just poured a tall and handed the cup to the detective, wearing his usual sour expression. Anna looked into his eyes for signs of redness—the telltale sign of a pot smoker—but they were clear. Good boy.

Anna pulled out her wallet, but Kreeger waved her away. “I got it,” he said, counting out six battered singles and handing them to Casey.

Cups in hand, they found a quiet table in the back. “That kid at the register?” said Anna. “He’s Danny Callahan’s son. You know, Web’s friend?”

“How do you know that?”

Anna felt her face flush again. “I ran into Web here yesterday.” She hadn’t done anything wrong, but she felt like she had. “I mean, it’s not like I planned it. I come here all the time.” She shut up, knowing she sounded defensive. She was annoyed at Kreeger for making her feel that way.

“Anna, I…” he began to say.

“What?” She shot him a cold look.

“…I think we should go over Serena’s movements leading up to that morning, get inside her head.”

Anna paused, unsure of what had just happened. She was sure Kreeger was about to warn her against getting involved with a witness. Actually he’d done exactly that, without saying so. He was a crafty one.

“All right,” she said sourly, not liking him one bit at that moment. “We know that Serena called her partner the night of November 30 and told him she wasn’t going to be in the next day.”

Kreeger pulled out his notebook and jotted the time and date down in the middle of the page, as if he was going to list Serena’s movements chronologically. He looked up and asked, “What time did she leave work?”

Anna loved this kind of police work—analyzing facts and fitting them together like pieces in a puzzle. “The partner doesn’t remember, but he said if they weren’t working late, they got out of the office as early as 5:00.”

Kreeger jotted this down too and looked at his list thoughtfully. “Okay. So it’s likely something happened between 5:00 and 8:30 that caused her to take the next day off. Something she had to do in Avondale that she needed cash for.” He tapped his pencil on the table.

Anna formed a picture of Serena that night, imagining her as she’d left her office, made her way to the Path station—probably at Christopher Street—stood in the rumbling train as it hurtled under the Hudson and connected to a New Jersey Transit train in Hoboken. The trip would have been about an hour and a half door-to-door.

“To make an appointment, she probably made a phone call,” she extrapolated. “Either on her cell or home phone.”

“Right,” said the detective.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit a number. “Hey, Leon,” he said into the silver device, keeping his eyes on Anna as he spoke. “Can you pull Serena’s phone logs and run a reverse search on the numbers she called on November 30 between the hours of 5:00 and 8:30?” A pause. “Thanks. Call me back ASAP.” He disconnected and addressed Anna, “While we wait let’s jump to the next morning.” He looked at his pad. “So, presumably Serena leaves her house around 7:30 a.m., or a little after, in order to get to the bank so she can make the ATM withdrawal at 7:49. After she gets the money, she looks at her watch…”

“Maybe she’s running late for her appointment?”

Kreeger looked pensive. “We’ve been assuming she had an 8:00 appointment, but what if it was at 8:
30
? I can see how if she was anxious about whatever she was about to do, she’d be early.”

His phone rang again. He looked at the screen and said, “It’s Leon.” He answered, saying, “Okay, shoot.” He took notes and Anna read them upside down. He’d written down a name and two phone numbers.

Kreeger signed off and looked up. “At 6:52 that night, Serena made a call to a man named Arnold Jethro. She called him at home and spoke with him for almost an hour. He’s a private investigator with an office in town.”

Anna felt a jolt of excitement. “Where?”

“On Chelsea Square.”

The square Kreeger was referring to stood at the top of the Main Street, just beyond the train tracks. They hadn’t gone far enough in their canvass.

Kreeger dialed one of the numbers on his pad and waited while it rang. No one answered, so he left a message explaining who he was and why he was calling. He gave his office and cell numbers and asked the man to call him back as soon as possible.

“The guy’s on vacation,” he told her when he hung up. “Recording says he won’t be in until Monday.”

Kreeger dialed the man’s home number next. There was no answer there either. Kreeger left the same message and snapped his phone shut.

There was nothing to say, so Anna and Kreeger stared at each other for a few seconds. “So what do we do now?” she said glumly.

He stood up. “Let’s go swing by Jethro’s office, and maybe his home. Maybe someone knows where he went and how to get in touch with him.” He looked at his watch. “Then we’ll call it a day.”

Anna rose and slipped on her jacket, thinking she could use the unexpected time to go to her office and get started on the mounds of paperwork this case was generating. She placed the lid on her cup so she could take it to go.