Waiting and Watching (21 page)

The phone was answered in a curt and cautious tone. “Yes, this is Lou Ridenhour. May I help you?”

“As a matter of fact, you can.” Julio introduced himself and then asked about the Harriman house.

“Yes, I did purchase a home in Tilden Park from the Harriman estate. May I ask what this is about?”

“Of course.” Julio explained that he and the police were looking into his parents' murders again. Lou's manner warmed up. “Sorry to hear it was your parents who died in the house. We knew the previous owners had died, but what we didn't know, was that they had been murdered. We were from out of town and thought we were getting a fabulous bargain. The price was so good we immediately began to remodel it to fit our needs. It wasn't until one of the subcontractors got chatty with my wife that we found out about the murders. When I called Beth Vreeland, our realtor, and asked her why she didn't tell us the house had been a crime scene, she said we never asked! Do you believe that? She admitted that had we asked, she would have, by law, needed to tell us the truth. So unless asked, she had no obligation.

“I have never been so angry with anyone in my life. She changed her attitude when I told her I would sue both her and her broker for everything I could get. It was then I learned she had a back-up offer for the house and she would contact them to see if they were still interested. She was insistent that, if given some time, she could sell it for us. I agreed with the stipulation that I wasn't going to pay her a commission for the next sale.

“About a week later, she called to tell us she had a buyer who would pay the agreed upon price, but we needed to finish the renovation. At that point, my wife and I didn't care. We just wanted out. Our children were young and impressionable. We didn't want the rumors and thoughts of dead bodies to frighten them. My wife was so upset by all of this I asked my company for a transfer back east and got it.”

“Can you tell me anything more about Vreeland?” Julio asked.

“Oh, she was a go-getter, for sure. She raced us through the closing so fast my head was spinning. The home inspection was done immediately and we were encouraged to close ASAP, before the owners changed their mind. She sure played us for fools. Neither my wife nor I cared for her. Far too aggressive for our liking. Have you had dealings with her?”

“No, I haven't,” Julio said. “The Tilden Park police are trying to track her down because we understand she had a fight with my mother some twenty years ago. We could be grasping at straws, but we're following every lead possible and so far we've had no luck in finding her.”

“Well, if I remember correctly, I think she said she was moving to Florida.”

“Yes, that's what we heard, too. Thanks so much for the information, Lou. Sorry you and your wife went through such a difficult time with the house. Apparently, a corporation bought it. It's so sad. My sister and I have such fond memories of living there before we lost our parents.”

“I may be speaking out of turn here, Julio, but my wife experienced some very strange happenings in that house. While it was being remodeled, we lived in a residence hotel with the children. When they were in school, Marcia spent much of her time overseeing and checking on the progress of the work. Thank God she did, or we wouldn't have learned the home's history. If you're interested, why don't I put her on the phone? It's probably better that you hear it directly from her.”

“Thanks, Lou. I am interested. So sorry you were a victim in this whole deal. If you hear anything or remember anything pertinent about Beth Vreeland, I'd appreciate it if you'd call me.” Julio gave Lou his phone number and the man's wife was put on the phone to speak with him.

“Hello, Julio. This is Marcia. Lou said you wanted to hear about my eerie experiences in that house. Please don't think I'm crazy when I tell you these things.”

Julio reassured her. “I promise I won't pass judgment on you.”

“Thanks. Well, the only room that made me uncomfortable was the study. Every time I walked in there, I swear I thought I heard a woman crying. One day I was so sure I heard crying I looked out the window to determine if it was coming from outside. There was no one out there. Later, when I learned about the murders, I was really freaked out by it. There were also times when I felt that someone was watching me. I'd never had that feeling before and haven't had it since, and I hope I never do again. One evening, I took Lou over to see the progress on the renovation and the lights in the study kept blinking on and off. That really scared me, but Lou convinced me it was probably due to the electricians having been there that day. I called the electricians the next day and after they checked out all the wiring, they said everything was working fine.”

“I agree that is pretty weird. Thanks for your help, Mrs. Ridenhour. If you or your husband remember anything else, please call me.”

“We will, and Julio, I'd like to also offer my condolences to you. I'm sure your parents would be proud that you're trying to solve their murders. We'll be happy to help in any way possible. Please feel free to call us back if you have any more questions.”

“I certainly appreciate that. Thank you so much,” Julio said.

Wednesday—December 3, 1986

Lily stopped by Earl's house after work to see if he had any Martin sightings to report. She found him actively on the job, sitting on his screened-in-porch and wearing a thick down coat, a hunter's fur cap with flaps over his ears and combat boots. Sniff was right next to him, wearing a camouflage doggie coat. Earl was sipping a beer from a large red cooler resting by the screen door. His cheeks were bright red and little icicles were forming on the hair over his upper lip.

Earl greeted her with a salute and suggested they go inside. Lily guessed he was looking for an excuse to desert his post and retreat to the warmth of the living room. She was excited to talk to him about the upcoming Christmas nuptials between Connie and Andrew and the parts they were to play in the celebration.

Lily smiled at the grumpy old man who was quickly becoming her best friend. “Earl, I have an idea. Since Connie and Andrew are being so generous to all of us, would you consider hosting a dinner on Sunday evening? I wouldn't expect you to do it yourself. I would do all the cooking and decorating, if we could use your house and your money," she giggled.

“You some kind of gold digger, Lily? What makes you think I can afford it or would even consider it,” Earl grumbled.

“I am so sorry. You're right. I shouldn't have asked.”

“No, you're wrong, Miss Co-conspirator in crime. I would be very happy to host a wedding dinner, but remember, you're doing all the work. Right?”

“Of course, Earl.” She gave him a big hug.

“Don't get all mushy on me now. It looks like I'll have to buy a Christmas tree this year and you'll be the one that has to decorate it.”

“I'd love that,” Lily said.

“I haven't had a tree since Sue died. If my wife is all around me like you say, she'd probably want me to get out all her old Christmas decorations from the attic and put ‘em up.”

“I know she would,” Lily agreed.

“Well, Sniff,” Earl said, “you're finally gonna have a real Christmas.”

Sniff opened one eye, then closed it and went back to sleep.

“Let's get the menu planned,” Earl said. “But first, I had better check my reconnaissance equipment on the porch. You never know when you'll get activity.” They both put their coats on and returned to the porch. Sniff took one look at the direction they were headed and burrowed himself back into his nice warm bed.

Earl checked his monitors and let out a loud war whoop. They indicated movement in the Harriman house. He adjusted the telescope to see if he could locate Martin. Instead, he found Nola upstairs going through boxes and stuffing things into huge black garbage bags. After about a half hour of this activity, she disappeared from sight, only to emerge from the garage door dragging one of the large plastic bags. Within ten minutes, Nola had lugged six full bags out to the curb for trash pick-up the next morning.

“Well what do you think of that?" Earl asked.

“I think we need to see what's in those bags. She might be trying to get rid of incriminating evidence and we can't let that happen. Maybe we should confiscate her trash.”

Earl walked into the kitchen. He pulled out a box of plastic trash bags and began stuffing them with balled up newspaper.

"So, we're doing a trash bag exchange?" Lily asked.

“Exactly. That bitch doesn't miss a trick. If she wakes up and finds her trash gone, she'll have the police search every house until they find it. Once we've filled up the bags we can put them in your car, pull up to the house in the dark and switch the bags.”

“Just one question; why my car?” Lily asked.

“Well, for starters, your car is blocking mine, and secondly, your car is a piece of crap.”

“Ouch,” Lily said.

“No offense. I worry about you driving around in that car. It looks like it could break down any minute. Besides, the old hag knows my car. We'll cover your license plates with some of this black plastic, just in case.”

“Okay, we'll use mine. What time should we do this?”

“How about four in the morning? All the insomniacs and Peeping Toms should be asleep by then. The trash guys don't start picking up until around six.”

“I need to be at work by seven so that should be fine. Do you mind if I spend the night in the guestroom?”

“No. I worry about you driving around at night in that car anyway. In fact, why don't we think about me loaning you some money for an auto upgrade?”

“Oh, Earl. That would be wonderful, if you really mean it.”

“I do mean it. Now, it's late. We'll talk about it tomorrow.”

* * * *

The alarm went off at four. Once again, Earl and Lily put on their dark sleuthing sweatpants, sweatshirts and dark knitted caps. The lights in Nola's house were out and the entire street was silent and dark. Earl covered the plates on Lily's car with the black plastic and they were off. Lily slowly pulled her car up in front of Nola's driveway and the two of them quickly made the exchange. To confuse any late night snoops, they devised the plan to drive around the block and wait in the dark at least twenty minutes before driving back to Earl's house. The plan worked perfectly. The exchange was executed without a hitch and they felt confident as they drove away that no one had seen them. While waiting in the dark around the corner from home base, they were unpleasantly surprised to see flashing lights in the rear view mirror.

“Oh, shit, it's the cops,” Earl muttered.

When Lily looked out the window, there was the familiar face of Sgt. Joe Reynolds.

"Well, well. Look what I've caught. Two bandits from the Hole-in-the Wall gang. Now what are you two up to at this time of night, or rather morning? I figure you're up to no good with your license plates all covered up with black plastic.”

Earl was caught off guard and panicked. He couldn't get the story out fast enough. With that, Sgt. Reynolds confiscated the six trash bags and sent the two felons home with the warning that they were to stop all illegal activities, but to let him know if they hear anything.

They both looked at each other and without a word drove back to Earl's house.

Pulling up in his driveway, Earl felt bad about revealing their scheme and giving up their heist without a struggle. He looked at Lily and said peevishly. “I had to squeal. I just couldn't sit there and let you get into trouble.”

“Me, huh?” She chuckled. “In a pig's eye!”

Friday—September 4, 1963

Lily grew up in the shadow of the resident children from Tilden Park. She didn't live near them, go to the same clubs or camps or parties, so she learned early on that she was an outsider. As kids do, she acclimated and accepted it at an early age, but the older she got, the more she felt the desire to belong. She was a smart girl and recognized that kids are friends with those they share a common bond. She didn't share any of those things. Her only bond was another lonely kid named Sammy who lived in her neighborhood. He was an only child, alone with his mother. Sammy was good company because he made her laugh. While Lily enviously watched other girls her age, Sammy made fun of them all.

Coming from the wrong part of town, she knew she would never fit into the Tilden Park crowd. She coped with this by isolating herself and letting her imaginary world compensate. She dreamed that the man who'd fathered her would come back to her mother and sweep them both out of poverty and loneliness. They would live as a family in a large Tilden Park home with a rolling lawn and a big shiny car. She would have beautiful clothes, money for shopping at the mall and lots of friends to shop with. She would date the captain of the football team and all the cliques of perfectly groomed girls and boys would want to be her friend.

Lily was walking out of school one day in ninth grade when a freshman football player named Hank approached her and introduced himself to her. She, of course, already knew who he was. She was thrilled when he suggested they meet later at the school tennis courts to hang out.

When Lily's mom came home from work that day, she was greeted by her daughter's exciting news that an older football player wanted to get together with her later that evening. Lily's mother was as excited as she was. Together they picked out the best casual outfit Lily had. Her mom, being a beautician, curled and teased her hair into the most updated style.

Lily left for the tennis courts, feeling elated. She sat on the bench overlooking the four courts. She was supposed to meet Hank at eight. It wasn't until eight-thirty that she finally spotted him approaching her. By that time her stomach was in knots. He brought out a bottle of Sloe Gin and two paper cups. They sat on the bench and drank the vile beverage—her first taste of alcohol—with very little conversation. Lily didn't know what to say and she assumed Hank didn't either. Once they finished their drink, Hank said, “Okay, let's see those big tits of yours.”