Chapter 3

My appointment at the police division was for 3 p.m., and I hoped not to bump into anyone I knew.

I took my longtime friend Elaine with me for emotional support. We have been buddies since our college days when we used to raise hell and get drunk. She is perpetually single, and loves it. She says it would be a frosty day in hell before she does the ball and chain routine. Call it commitment phobia. Seeing me and Louie split didn’t help change her mind. It only confirmed that love stinks, and men are pigs. No, she’s not a lesbian, but will not commit to a guy beyond a short fling. Anyway, she and the other girls we hang with including my cousin Vicki have been a great support to each other over the years. So, once again Elaine was along for the ride, complete with bail money should I need it.

The testing involved me getting my hands, clothing, and jewelry examined. I had a change of clothes in my car and handed over what I had been wearing. Elaine and I were out of there within an hour. I was informed that testing could take awhile but I would definitely hear from someone if there were problems. Next stop was the liquor store and Home Depot for supplies, not necessarily in that order.

There is nothing like a night out with the girls to make you forget your woes. I told the group what had gone on that morning. The girls were shocked that someone could have gotten in that easily. We agreed to have have a sleepover at my place that night. We installed the locks, rigged the alarms, and armed ourselves with pots and pans against further invasion. I had my baseball bat ready. If there was to be another intrusion to my sanctuary, the sucker had better be prepared to eat wood.

The next morning I got a call for a day job at a printing company, which ended uneventfully. Upon arriving home I received a call from Inspector Gibbons, who wanted to meet us about the investigation. I asked him if was official enough to come to the division, and did I need a lawyer. He said no, so I invited him over for coffee, as I was still uncomfortable being alone, despite the unmarked police car out in the back lot.

At 7 p.m., Jeff Gibbons showed up at my door armed with coffee and Danish. We sat at my counter bar.

“So,” I said. “What’s new?”

The good news was that my hands had tested clean so far, and the police were working on my other things. Gerry had been tested as well, as had Ray. Gibbons confirmed the fact that Hodges was dead before he was dumped. He had been shot. The medical examiner said some one had kept him on ice — almost literally — until he was delivered.

Well, at least I could reassure Mom and Dad that I wasn’t going to jail.

“But how could that be? He smelled like a fermented banana split when I found him.”

“In that heat it doesn’t take long for things to thaw out.”

“There is another nagging question I have been thinking of all day: Since there was no blood on my carpet or in the parking lot, how did they get him here? I was awake at eight a.m. and that’s when I stumbled over him. How long had he been in my apartment and who got him in here?”

“All good questions and ones maybe you can help us find answers to.”

“Okay, but I am not sure what I can do.”

“It’s easy. Just take us through your activities the day before the body was found. That way we can determine the possible time a body could have been snuck into the building.”

“Perhaps,” I said, “it would be important to find out how the killer knew to deliver him here.”

“Hey, I am impressed. How do you know this stuff?”

“Look at me – I'm a single woman. I have a lot of time to watch TV. I suppose I get into it a bit too much.”

“Okay, let’s follow that line of thinking. Let’s take it back to Friday night. What time did you leave work?”

“Easy, they let me leave at 4 o'clock that day because it was the day I quit. “

“Good, you said previously Mr. Hodges left before you went to talk to the boss. What time was that, approximately?”

“Hmm, about 3:30. I had just gotten off the phone and I remember asking him where he was going and he said he was off to do repossession on a car. I remember being creeped out about it. He just seemed too happy at the prospect. Do you think the owner of the repossessed was responsible for the death? Maybe he wasn’t quite ready to part with the car?”

Gibbons ignored my suggestion. “Where did you go after you left work?”

“I went to the Super Saver to grab some wings to go, and junk food, then on to the beer store. I called my friend Elaine. I went to her place, we stuffed ourselves silly, got stinking drunk and I conked out until noon on Saturday. From there I went to my cousin Vicki’s, where I babysat her three kids for the rest of the weekend.” Which, I might add, is really hard to do when severely hung over.

“Did you stop at your apartment at anytime throughout the weekend, for a change of clothes?”

“No, I keep a change of clothes in my car for emergency sleepover at my parents, or at friends. I also wear the same size as Elaine so I borrowed something from her. And I always carry a toothbrush with me in my bag.” The detective looked at me kind of funny.

“What, I'm a woman,” I said with a shrug. “I'm prepared for anything.”

“No comment on that,” he said. “So when you returned home sometime on Sunday night, there was nothing odd in the apartment?”

“Not that I can remember. I didn't trip over a body 'til Monday morning.”

“Did you notice anything strange when you left work on Friday?”

“You mean like some one following me? It didn’t occur to me to notice.”

“Who did the trace on the debtor?”

“I did.”

“Maybe from now on you had better take notice.”

Inspector Gibbons looked at me. “I can’t tell you this officially, but off the record, we 'like' the debtor for this. He or she’s definitely a person of interest.”

Well, that’s going to narrow things down, I thought. The manager of the agency could trace what accounts Hodges was working on. Any files regarding auto loans should be looked at.

“We spoke to the director of the agency and they traced who was slated for collection of cars and narrowed it down to find out where they were all weekend.”

I couldn’t remember exactly who the debtor was, but I liked him for this too.

“That’s a good start. There is still the burning question of why they dumped him in my living room?

“Okay, new thread but it bears checking out.”

I was starting to feel like a spider — throwing out new threads to build a web, and I was weaved into the middle. I tried to pretend I wasn’t afraid, but my false bravado was fading. Someone knew where I lived, and had succeeded in depositing a dead body in my living room.

“So how long does my shadow stay parked out there?”

‘‘I'd say until it’s over, and the killer is behind bars. Do you feel safe here?”

“No, my home and my peace of mind have been violated.” I couldn’t help it. I fell apart. I have never been much of a crybaby, but enough is enough. I was crying real tears and I was not ashamed to do so. Inspector Gibbons stood in front of me and assured me it was natural to feel this way. He handed me a card for victims’ services, if I needed counseling.

“I guess I feel better with the car outside my door than without it.”

“I should get going,” he said. “Let us know if you remember anything odd that you remember about the weekend.”

“So do you really think someone could have followed me around to find out where I live?”

“It’s a possibility we can’t afford to ignore. If he was angry enough to kill Mr. Hodges and if he figured out you're the person who traced him, you should be careful. But we will do what we can to protect you.”

“Well, this is my home and I am not running from it until I have to. I have a bat and I added some more locks.”

I spent the night on the couch with the lights and the TV on. My phone was beside me and I had hairspray under my pillow. It wasn’t mace, but it would do in a pinch. I couldn’t sleep so I watched the all night movie channel.

I had no work the next day. So when I finally did fall asleep, I dreamt of having to flip those dreaded moose burgers, and ended up counting Bullwinkles all night.

Chapter 4

I woke up the next morning to the feeling of being nudged and poked. I thought it was the cats demanding breakfast; however, I came to the sudden realization: CATS DON’T TALK.

“Laura,” a voice said, “L-A-U-R-A.”

I wanted to bury myself under the covers and make the nasty voices go away.

“C’mon, Laura.”

I opened my eyes to a guy standing over me, and would have screamed but realized very quickly that it was Gerry, my super.

“Damn!” I yelled. “Don’t ever do that. You were this close to eating wood, pal.”

I jumped out of bed and grabbed my housecoat.

“Sorry, I was worried. I saw the unmarked police car outside and wasn’t sure if anything else had happened since Monday.”

“Nope, no one has done me in yet.”

Gerry and I had been friends for years. As I mentioned before we were in the same high school and I got him this super job here out of guilt since I had inadvertently gotten him fired from his taxi driver job — which he later admitted to hating anyway. Now he drives strictly for the airport limo service.

“Do you often take such liberties with your master key?”

“No, but like I said, I was worried. I hadn’t seen you for a couple of days.”

“You weren’t the one responsible for letting the goon in last weekend, were you?”

“No!”

“Good, who was then?

“That was Ray, the relief super.”

“He should be fired and have his ass kicked. No one should have the right to get in here without twenty-four hours' written notice. You know that and Ray does too, or he should. The privacy of my home has been violated, and I hold him responsible for this nightmare. I am under protective surveillance and feel like I can’t go anywhere for fear I may be followed! You try living like that!” I was so angry I was shaking.

When I managed to recover my calmness, I asked him, “Can Ray describe the delivery guy or the truck?”

“Maybe, why? There were two of them. Ray said they had a big box that they needed to have delivered.”

“The police need a description of who delivered 'my package' and the truck.”

“Ray didn’t want to let him in but the guy said it was a surprise and apparently paid Ray quite a bit. Ray told me the guy said he would make it worth his while to do this.”

“Did Ray say any of this to the police?”

“Not sure. Ray told me — albeit after he sobered up — that the delivery man was very persuasive in his quest. He said he was just the messenger and his head would roll if he didn’t make the delivery. Ray also mentioned the guy looked menacing.”

“Ray really needs to tell the police what he knows for everyone's sake. I can’t give out any information right now, but the delivery man could be a person of interest at this point.”

“I’ll take Ray over later on and get him to see one of those sketch artist guys,” Gerry said.

I looked at Gerry, and crumbled. I just couldn’t take any more. He took me in his arms and stroked my hair, kissed my forehead. Then he stood back, looked at me and told me to get dressed. He was taking me out to breakfast. I judged his culinary tastes would lead us to Timmy’s but he surprised me with a trip to Smitty’s. Gerry is basically a good guy. I have ribbed him about being a bad ass some days, but he really does have a good heart.

When in a potentially deadly predicament like mine — and I do count having a dead body dumped in my living room by someone who may or may not be targeting me as potentially deadly — it’s best to have as many friends at one's disposal as possible. While having an unmarked in the parking lot of my apartment building and several locks on my door helped to give me a sense of feeling safe, it couldn't hurt to be seen in public with someone like Gerry, who could pass as a bouncer at Hooters. If, indeed, whoever dumped Velcro at my doorstep might be following me, Gerry was the kind of ‘muscle’ I needed to put the back off message out there.

What I needed to consider was the times when Gerry might not be around. What would I do then? A gun was a possibility but I couldn’t aim worth a damn, and as the city wanted to cut down on guns, I wanted to avoid handling one. Pepper spray was the next rational possibility. While it would not be on equal footing as a gun or knife, I could just spray the person and get the hell out of harm's way. In the meantime I just hoped the police were advancing on the case.

My mom was still insisting I stay with them until the guy was caught, but I wanted to avoid putting them in danger. I also thought living with them would drive me batty. I haven’t lived at home since I was 21. Since then I have done the college thing and the marriage thing, the divorce thing, and I see myself as fiercely independent. Running home to Mommy and Daddy wasn’t going to help.

I begged off, mainly for their safety, but other considerations came into play as well. Transporting my pets over to their house would have been inconvenient, and I wasn’t leaving them for Gerry to watch. I already had police protection of sorts that could not be transferred — what would the neighborhood gossips say about a “strange” car parked on the street 24/7? Mom's comment about having a guard dog was laughable — yeah right, Toto the killer Yorkie wasn’t going to do much to serve and protect. Sean and Seamus would eat the dog for lunch anyway, yet another good reason not to go there.

The bottom line, I decided, was to solve this crime so I could get back to a normal life.