Authors: Chris Stevenson
Avy had seen enough, having learned everything she needed. There was no reason to stay in the house another minute, let alone for the time it would take Lizzy to finish the task. She paid a visit to her mother one last time, blowing her a kiss, telling her how much she loved her. She walked out into the hallway, consulted her notes, then stepped through the first door she came to.
She had no trouble traveling in the reverse timeline. She seethed with anger now. She seemed to fly with unchecked speed through the Gates, eating up the years. At one point, the blurry image of a small girl appeared at her side. The girl looked at Avy with sad, frightened eyes. After a few moments, the girl veered off the timeline to disappear through another string of Gates. Avy wondered what horror the child had witnessed—the nature of her mission. Without doubt, Janus had commissioned the small girl to use the Gates. Just another wrong that had to be set right, Avy thought. She expected to see other persons in the Gate strings. Most of those travelers had to be tortured souls. Avy was living proof of that.
###
It took her six harried jumps to find her way back to her own time-place. She attributed the miscalculations to her emotional state, which stemmed from witnessing a horrendous murder. She ended up on a small street in downtown Raleigh. She made her way to the first available public telephone. She called Cyberflow and asked to be connected to Drake Labrador. After several transfers, Drake’s secretary, Linda Wu, answered the phone.
Avy had no intention of speaking to Drake Labrador. Her target audience was Lind Wu.
Chapter 23
“Hello, this is Maria Ramirez of Sunshine Maids,” said Avy in her best Spanish accent. “We are offering the grand spectacle of a complete housecleaning visit for this limited one-time trial offer. No house too large or messy for us. Satisfaction guaranteed or we will pay you for a re-cleaning.” There was a long pause. Gum snapped.
“When does this offer expire?” asked Linda Wu.
“Tomorrow, Senora. We are dispatching the last of our teams.”
“This better not be a whack job.”
“Sunshine Maids has the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval. We guarantee our—”
“Chill out for a minute.”
There came a long wait before the secretary came back on the line. “How can we trust your credentials? How do we get a key to you? This is a business. We’re working nine-to-fives here.”
“We have a referral list for inspection. You can leave the key hidden on the premises. We will lock up, then replace the key. Total security. To be honest with you, Senora, we love the windows.”
“Yeah, well, all right. We’ve got three houses for you. I’ll drop the keys off at noon tomorrow. But you had better deliver what you promise. Just so you get it straight, we want all of the windows done. The big vacant house has a broken-ass security gate—you can just slide it open. Hold the line for the addresses.”
“We are happy to please.” Avy listened to Linda’s address first, followed by Drake’s personal residence, ending with the Remington Avenue house. She wrote all of the addresses down with precise care for her records, including a notation on where to find the keys.
Avy ended the conversation with, “Tomorrow is the big day. Super clean package for you!” She hung up the phone. They went for it. She knew Drake had the Remington house up for sale, so he fell right into the free cleaning offer. Linda Wu added her home just to take advantage. Avy wrote down the time of the call, place, and person contacted. Under that, she wrote
Sunshine Maids Housecleaning—verbal agreement.
###
Leaving nothing to chance, Avy took a cab ride out to the Remington house, just to make sure the evidence was still there. It was no surprise when she found the bracelet untouched and exactly where she had seen it last. The house had never sold due to Drake’s exorbitant asking price. The fact that a murder had been committed in it had also never endeared it to potential buyers. No cleaner had ever thought to inspect the top of the ceiling fan. She was home free.
Arriving back in the city, she found a cheap motel room to settle in for the night. From here on out everything had to go like clockwork. The first meeting she would have in the morning would be with Detective Bulmer. She needed all the help she could get to pull this off. No mistakes, no loopholes, or legal issues. It had to be by the book to make the charges stick. Fate would take care of the rest.
###
She paid the cabdriver with an age-correct ten dollar bill when they arrived at the Remington Avenue house. The old cabby had been watching her through the rearview mirror for the last two miles. He looked at the bill, then at her again. He started to say something, then shook his head. By sheer coincidence, she’d taken the ride with the same man who had ferried her to this exact spot three decades ago. He mumbled something before driving off.
Avy met two people standing next to a white van at the broken security gate. Her heart leapt for joy when she noticed the badges pinned to their belts. They wasted no time introducing themselves.
“Donovan Post, crime scene investigation,” said the slender, bespectacled man.
“I’m Joyce Hart, crime scene investigation,” said the pert blond. “You must be Avy Labrador.”
“Yes, I am, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She shook their hands. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble. Detective Bulmer told me there weren’t any guarantees about securing a warrant. It took me three hours to tell him the whole story.”
Joyce smiled. “You’re lucky it was Bulmer, who doesn’t go after a probable cause warrant for just anybody or for any reason. It doesn’t hurt that the judge’s son is engaged to Bulmer’s daughter. Still, you must be one special case to get priority treatment.”
“I’m not special, just lucky he listened to me. He also knows me from another investigation, and warned me that I might have opened up a can of worms and to be prepared to explain myself all over again to a lot more people.”
Donovan nodded. “Well, that’s why we’re here—to see if you have something that’s viable, as far as evidence. Drake Labrador was served this morning, so there’s a good possibility he could show up to inventory any property seizure—that’s his constitutional right, just so you know. You’re at no risk, since we’ll have a uniformed officer on the premises.”
“That’s good to know,” said Avy, relieved. “I’m sure I’m in good hands.”
A police cruiser pulled up flush with the gate. The officer inside waved to them. Joyce Hart pulled the gate back manually, allowing the car to pass through.
“We’ll bring the van in,” said Joyce to Avy. “Would you like a lift in?”
“I’ll just walk and meet you at the front door.”
Avy walked down the driveway. Though she hadn’t paid attention to it before, the front yard lay stripped bare, the grass scorched brown from dehydration. Gone were the flower-laden window boxes. Even the giant raspberry bush had withered into a pile of broken sticks.
Donovan was already taking pictures of the house, including the address numerals, when Avy arrived at the front door, which was open. A uniformed officer who introduced himself as Dale and stood at the doorway, told Avy to lead them to the area that held the evidence. The investigators followed behind, carrying two large plastic cases.
Arriving in the master bedroom, Avy stepped to the middle of the room and pointed up to the ceiling fan. “It’s up on top of the fan case. I used a chair to reach it.”
Donovan retrieved a stepladder from the van and set it up. Mounting the ladder, Joyce took several photos of the bracelet from different angles before she picked it up with a pair of tweezers. Once down, she allowed Avy and Donovan to look at it. It was caked with a black substance, along with small bits of dried matter. Strands of faded, reddish hair still clung to it. Something else caught Avy’s eye. Barely discernible, the engraved inscription on the tiny placard read,
To My Wonderful Wife Elizabeth—Love—Drake.
Avy allowed herself a sadistic smile while she watched Joyce place the bracelet carefully in a plastic bag, then mark it with a felt pen.
A personalized piece of jewelry found on the premises containing trace evidence that led right to Elizabeth Labrador just happened to be the major part of the slam-dunk she needed. The irony of it was that Avy’s wrist bore a bracelet similar in style. It was Lizzy’s gift to her on her eighteenth birthday.
To My Beautiful Daughter Avy—Love—Mom
. Elizabeth, the woman she’d called mother for eighteen years, wore another identical bracelet—a replacement for the one she had lost.
“Is there anything else you can think of?” asked Joyce. “We intend to perform a complete sweep of the premises. It’s standard procedure. You’re free to remain if you wish.”
“No, that was it. I think I’ll be leaving.” She hugged her shoulders. “I feel uncomfortable here.”
“We can understand that,” said Dovovan. “I think it’s important that you contact Detective Bulmer as soon as possible to set up a meeting. This is only the start of an investigation that will take a lot of time and effort, involving numerous law enforcement personnel. For now, I’ll call you a cab. Thanks for your assistance.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
Avy knew she had started something that she had little control over now. Because of her, a massive investigation would be launched, involving time, money, and the talents of many professionals. She hoped, prayed, that the evidence they had would be enough for a conviction. Justice was owed to Tom and Avalon Labrador, and Avy would do everything in her power to see that goal accomplished.
###
Avy sat on one side of the long conference table at Police Headquarters. A captain, Detective Bulmer, a forensic pathologist, and a criminal profiler sat on the other side facing her. The two crime scene investigators who had accompanied her to the Remington house,were standing off to the side, ready to comment. Everyone waited for the detective to hit the record button after introducing Avy to the experts. She felt a little nervous, not because of the evidence that sat on the table in front of her, but because her statements would have to be worded with great care. A successful outcome hinged on her theories, which might later be used as testimony. It had to be credible with enough accurate information to convince these professionals. This was a collaboration of decision makers—a preliminary jury.
Detective Bulmer began, “Avy, just for the record, tell this panel everything that you revealed to me during our previous meeting. Be honest and leave nothing out. Answer all questions to the best of your ability.”
“Before I begin,” she said, “I'd like to apologize for not alerting the authorities to an important matter. The fire at the old water tower—that was us. We killed the Wax Man. I suppose you know what happened at the safe house. We panicked. We ran away to escape the danger. I’m afraid we weren’t in the right frame of mind to act like responsible adults.”
Detective Bulmer nodded. “We know what happened there. Your story checks out. They found bone remnants in the ashes inside the water tank. I can’t say that a nine-eleven call would have helped at the safe house. It was a devastating scene. I’m just glad you made it out alive.”
Avy’s voice cracked. “Did you take care of Chubby? I mean, Raymond Hammersmith.” She wanted to make sure.
Bulmer nodded again. “He was transported to the county coroner’s office.”
“I just want it known that he gave his life to protect us. He’s a hero—a very brave man.”
“We’re well aware of that,” said Bulmer. “We’ll take your statements concerning the full account of what happened there. I won’t lie—we’re most concerned about the officer fatalities, but your findings seem to tie-in with those incidents. So we’ll hear the entire account. Don’t be nervous, Avy. These experts are willing to listen to anything you have to say. We’re here to help.”
Avy cleared her throat, poising her hand over the table. “This is evidence that I discovered at what I believed to be a crime scene.”
Joyce Hart spoke up. “Let it be known that the evidence was retrieved and inventoried by myself, Joyce Hart, and Donovan Post of CSI. Our full report is available for inspection.”
Avy went on. “The house came from Drake Labrador’s inheritance estate that he acquired in a will from Tom Labrador. I’m convinced that Elizabeth Labrador is guilty of homicide while her husband Drake was an accessory to the crime.”
“Are you talking about that seventies case?” asked the captain.
“Yes, I am.”
“Avy, you weren’t even born then,” said the captain. “That case was before my time. We know who you are because we ran a check on you. You’re Avalon Labrador’s daughter. Your mother was convicted and sentenced by a jury of her peers. Isn’t that correct?”
“I believe I can prove that she was innocent. Drake knew that he was second in line in his brother’s will. He had always been a loser, never attaining the success of his brother. He knew that with his brother out of the way, and his wife framed for murder, he would inherit all of Tom’s property, including Cyberflow. That was the motivation. Greed. What I don’t know is who laid out the plot, either Drake, Elizabeth or both. The fact is they wanted the company. They took it by eliminating the true owners.”
“The motivation is reasonable, but not damning,” said the profiler. “Why do you think the bracelet is relevant?”
She pointed to the table. “If you run it through your lab to test it for DNA, I think you’ll find the blood type belongs to Tom Labrador. I think those small knobs of dried material are parts of his flesh. The hair, if it shows anything, will belong to Elizabeth Labrador. I know the bracelet belongs to her because of the personal inscription on the back. She wears a duplicate of that piece on her wrist today. Anyway, I pretended to be a house cleaner to gain entry. I found it on top of the ceiling fan case, right where it had been lost during the commission of the crime.”
The forensic pathologist leaned forward to study the bracelet. “You’re saying you alone found this evidence?”