NAILED (16 page)

“Don’t look so guilty. I’m your mother. I know you like a book, and considering that the police had both Sam and Michael in their sights, I know there’s no use in telling you not to get involved. I took your grandmother to church yesterday and we lit a dozen candles. It’s out of my hands now.” She placed a plate with three perfectly golden chocolate chip pancakes in front of me and then added more hot water to my tea mug.

“I have a few suspects. One of them, Gary Hachmeister, was attacked last night. I have no idea if it’s related to Victor Sanjari’s murder or not.” I put a gob of whipped butter on top of the pancake mound and watched it melt down the sides. Then I poured some maple syrup over the top. “He’s up to some shady deals with his construction business, and that may be the reason Victor was killed and he was attacked.”

“Your sister says that everyone thinks Victor killed his wife.”

I savored a big bite of pancake before answering. “I agree. I think he killed her because he was an obsessive control freak and he found out she was putting plans in place to leave him. But there were no witnesses and with Victor dead, I can’t very well ask him. But Maddi, that’s Jenna’s sister, she’s certain he killed Jenna, which gives her a good motive for nailing Victor. But then why would she try to kill Gary Hachmeister?” I shook my head and shoved another big piece of syrup-laden pancake into my mouth. “Of course, that’s if the two things are related, and I have no idea if they are. Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”

“There are no such things as coincidences where murder is involved. It says so on all the detective shows,” my mother said with firm authority. “And this industry, construction, seems to be rife with corruption if you believe what you watch on TV.”

I sat back and took a sip of my tea. “Which means that both Victor’s murder and Gary’s attack may have been committed by someone I haven’t even talked to yet.”

Just then the back door opened and Sam and the kids came into the kitchen. Riley jumped up and ran over to Henry. Henry got down on the floor and let the dog smother him in kisses. While they all ate their pancakes, I used my iPad to check emails from Shirley. She had managed to get me addresses for Mary McCarthy, Gary Hachmeister’s home, and Kate Cavanaugh. She also included something else in her email that caught my eye. I put the tablet back in my bag and looked at my sister. The kids ran out the back door with the dog on their heels, and my mother came and sat down with a cup of coffee.

“You don’t look so good,” I said to Sam.

“I haven’t been getting much sleep. I’m trying not to let my imagination get the better of me, you know, like going and staking out Michael’s office,” she said with a wry laugh, “but I’m not sure how much more I can take of not knowing what the hell that man is up to. Am I naïve to think my husband would never cheat on me?” Sam looked down at her hands.

I felt like a heel. I was sitting on some information about Michael and Kate Cavanaugh, but how could I tell my sister that the woman she had been raving about might just be having an affair with her husband?

“Alex, have you found out anything? Has John talked to Michael yet?”

I was saved from having to answer my sister when Henry and Kendall came back into the kitchen chattering on about how Riley just chased a squirrel up a tree.

I left shortly afterward and headed to New Haven. Elizabeth Applegate had lied to me and I wanted to know why.

As I drove along the turnpike, I suddenly remembered that I had never gotten around to making reservations for John and me to go away for our anniversary. Of course, my momentarily wanting to divorce the man had obviously put a bit of a damper on my enthusiasm for getting away. Our anniversary is at the end of June and my sister’s is in July. I toyed with the idea of inviting Sam and Michael to join us, but was that really such a good idea at this point? I didn’t think my sister was in a celebratory mood these days, but as I had done nothing yet as far as reservations went, I still had time to think about it. Maybe everything would sort itself out in the next couple of days. I was trying to be optimistic.

The
Food Co-op
was a grocery store frequented by a lot of students, which I always thought was odd because the store’s prices were high, but then if you went to Yale, maybe you could afford pricy grocery stores. I had no idea if Elizabeth Applegate was working today or not, but Shirley was unable to find an address for her, most likely because she was staying with a friend. What Shirley was able to find out was that Elizabeth Applegate was not enrolled at UCONN or any other school in the tri-state area. I wanted to know why she lied to me.

The store was packed for a mid-morning Sunday. One of the attractions of the place was their food court area. They had a breakfast menu going, and it seemed that’s where most of the patrons were. I found a store clerk and asked if Elizabeth was working today.

“Yeah, she’s here. She works in the bakery.”

I thanked the man and headed over to the bakery and fresh bread area. Elizabeth was behind the counter, putting a large loaf of bread into a slicing machine. She then placed the cut loaf into a bag and handed it to a woman with two teenagers. She was busy, judging by the long line of people, so I ordered a tea from the food court and sat down at a table that gave me a good view of the bakery area. The customers kept coming. By the time the line thinned to only one person left, I was about done with my large tea and took the rest of it over to the bakery. I waited for Elizabeth to finish with the person in front of me and then I stepped up to the counter.

“Hi!” I said, giving her a big smile. “You left so quickly yesterday that we never had a chance to finish our talk. When do you get a break?”

An older woman stepped into the area and tied an apron around her waist.

Elizabeth turned to her. “Janet, can you cover for a few minutes? It’s my break time.”

Elizabeth stepped from behind the counter and looked at me. “So, what more can I tell you? Did you find my pictures?”

I cut my eyes at Elizabeth. “Uh, no. Nudes photos of you and Victor are not exactly my cup of tea.”

“You don’t seem to like him. Why is that?”

“I never met Victor. I only know what I’ve heard and so far I haven’t been impressed.”

“Well, don’t believe everything you hear. Vic was wonderful.”

I scrunched up my face. I guess I wasn’t quite as discreet as I thought because Elizabeth noticed.

“What’s that face for? You don’t believe me? Well, he was. He was the most wonderful man I ever met.”

“I’m pretty sure no one ever said that sentence before.” I held up my hand. “I’m sorry. That was unkind. It’s just that I haven’t come across too many people, no one really, who had anything nice to say about the man, but to each her own. Can I get you anything? A drink?”

“No, I’m fine, but Janet won’t be shortly. She gets, like, really riled if more than one person is waiting, so let’s make this quick.”

We moved over to where I had just been seated and sat down at the same table.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll get right to the point. You’re right. I shouldn’t believe everything I hear. You don’t go to UCONN. You don’t attend any other school in the area, and I’d like to know why you lied.”

Elizabeth pushed her hair off her face and looked up at me with her deep-set hazel eyes. “Everything I told you was the truth. Except for that. I do teach craft classes and I do work here, like I told you. I was afraid you’d think I was nothing but a gold digger. You know, younger girl, older man with money, so I made myself more of a catch than I really am. I thought the going-to-college was a nice touch and gave me more class. But that doesn’t mean that Victor and I didn’t love each other. I met him just like I told you, but okay, I kind of came on to him pretty strong. What can I say? He was nice-looking, obviously had some bucks, and was unattached. So where was the harm? And big surprise, we actually hit it off. I like men with money, so sue me.” She jutted out her chin in a defiant manner.

“How did you know he had money?” I asked.

“For one thing, he drove a big fancy car. He dressed nice, and he always had a ton of cash on him. Plus, he kept telling me about some big life insurance policy he was getting because of his wife dying. I’ll admit at first all I saw were dollar signs. From the time I was about eight I grew up on tacky military bases, so it was nice to be with some guy who had money. But you know, I really thought he could be the one. He even took me on a picnic once. Who does that anymore?” Elizabeth looked toward the counter. Two people were waiting.

“Did Victor ever talk to you about his work?”

“How so?”

“Well, did you even know what he did for a living?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Of course I knew what he did. He was partners with his friend, in like, some custom homes construction company, and he did site inspections and stuff like that.”

So Elizabeth wasn’t the only one trying to make herself look better. But then I had a thought. Maybe Victor Sanjari wasn’t lying to her when he said he was a partner with Gary. Maybe that’s why he was able to get Gary to hire the Eastern Europeans, because he was part owner of
Connecticut Custom Homes
.

“Look, I gotta go. The line is getting long and Janet’s going to freak out.”

“One more thing. Did you ever get the impression from anything that Victor said that maybe his wife’s accident wasn’t an accident?”

“What do you mean it wasn’t an accident? You think she killed herself?”

“No. I think maybe someone pushed her.”

“You think Victor killed her? Hey, wait a minute. I didn’t meet him until after his wife died. Are you thinking we did it together, because you’re wrong, lady!”

“Calm down. It never entered my mind that you might be involved. But what about Victor? They were having problems long before he took his wife on that trip.”

Elizabeth took a couple of seconds to think about this, started to say something, and then stopped.

“What? Do you know something?” I asked.

She shook her head quickly. “No, he never told me,
hey, guess what, I killed my wife
, if that’s what you want to know. Victor was a wonderful man. He was like, fun and kind and easy going—”

“What? What is it?”

“It’s nothing. It’s…well, when we first met he said we could have a lot of fun together as long as I never cheated on him. He said that was like his one rule. Fine with me. Victor was all the man I needed, trust me. So, unless his wife was cheating on him, I promise you that Victor didn’t kill her, and you need to stop making crap up about him. I gotta go.”

Elizabeth walked back to the bakery counter, leaving me seated at the small table and wondering, not for the first time, if Victor had found Jenna’s diary.

I honestly didn’t know what I would ask Mary McCarthy, but nevertheless I was headed back to Indian Cove and planned to make her my next stop. She lived a couple blocks away from the school and had a son in Kendall’s class. From what both my sister and Brian Jankowski, the school principal, had said about her, I was kind of curious to meet her.

I rang the bell of a small house on a street of other homes of similar size. It was an older neighborhood with small yards. It was neat and trim, but didn’t fit with the haughty life style I felt Mary McCarthy aspired to, based on what I had heard so far.

The front door was open with a security screen door letting in a light breeze that had kicked up since earlier this morning. A summer storm was coming and I was looking forward to it.

I heard the sound of someone wearing flip flops coming down the hall and turned to look at the door.

“Can I help you?” a woman’s wispy voice, almost child-like, asked through the iron screen.

It was hard to see her through the mesh and I felt like I was talking into one of those drive-through speakers at fast food restaurants.

“Hi, I’m Alex Harris. My sister is Samantha Daniels. I believe your son goes to school with my niece.”

There was a slight hesitation before I heard the voice again.

“Yes. That’s correct. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if I might speak with you just for a few minutes about what transpired between my sister and Victor Sanjari on Tuesday morning.”

“I’ve already spoken to the police.”

“Yes, I understand, but my sister wanted to make sure that there were no hard feelings because of what you said. She didn’t want this situation to become uncomfortable for the kids.”

“Like I said, I just answered the detectives’ questions and told them what I heard.”

“That’s not exactly true, is it?” I said to the screen. “From what I’ve been told, you volunteered the information and made a point of running after the police to tell them. That sounds like you have some sort of gripe with my sister, and I’d like to know why.”

“Now you just hold on!” The lock was turned and the door pushed out almost hitting me in the face. “You’re not suggesting that I would lie to the police, are you?”

Mary McCarthy was not quite what I had envisioned. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but with the breathy voice I heard coming through the screen, I thought I might be meeting a young Jackie Onassis. But that wasn’t who pushed the door open, rather forcibly, I felt. The woman who stepped out onto the front porch looked more like someone who should be starring in the
Real Housewives of Indian Cove
if we had such a thing, and thank God we didn’t.

The hair on Ms. McCarthy’s head was
L’Oreal
blond or maybe
Revlon
. She had it pushed back with a headband exposing a forehead totally devoid of lines or movement despite the fact that she seemed to be angry with me. Moving down her face to her lips, at first I thought she had stuck one of those wax lips things you can buy at Halloween onto her mouth, but they were indeed her own lips, though not necessarily the ones she was born with. Her breasts were the perfect size and perfectly round. They looked more like two orbs floating on her chest. She had on a batik print blouse with all the buttons undone exposing a tiny bikini bathing suit top underneath, so I had a good glimpse of what I assumed to be surgically augmented breasts. Gary Hachmeister would be in heaven right now. She had on a pair of white shorts, which really highlighted the tangerine tone of her skin, courtesy of something out of a bottle, no doubt. I put her to be somewhere in her late forties, but truth be told, all the work she had done made her look even older. The woman was a walking cliché, and it was too bad she felt the need to change her appearance because she had probably been a very nice-looking woman before.