Condo Crazies: Murder At The Albatross Page 15

  Latasha resumed talking as Valentina sobbed into her handkerchief. “The police are goin’ to interview again, relative to the deceased. Before y’all leave here, please make an appointment with Officer Speranza at the door.” She nodded at the burly uniformed officer.

  “Y’all are safe in your building as long as you remember to travel in pairs whenever you can. Know who you’re openin’ your door to. That means look out the peephole and make sure you recognize the voice and face of whoever wants entry to your unit. Be smart about comin’ and goin out of the building.” Latasha paused. “We don’t know the cause of Mr. Vasquez’s death yet or if it’s connected to Miz Pruitt. We’re workin’ on it.” She stopped at the sound of a snort from Chester. “Like I said, we’re workin’ on it. You hear anything you think we should know about, you call me directly.”

  Latasha held up her business card. “Officer Speranza’s gonna give you my card when y’all sign up for your appointment with the police. That’s all we know right now.” She looked at Phoebe.

  “Wait.” A man’s voice called from the back of the room. “I’d like to ask the judge what security we have in the building. We have two young girls living here. How are you going to protect them? There’s a man who’s coming and going who doesn’t live here. How’s he getting access to this building?” Tom’s voice got louder as his face got redder. “I’d like to know what protection my daughter has against this person.” He looked squarely at the judge. “I’m referring to Adrian Spaltro. I caught him in the parking lot, waiting for my daughter to come out. She didn’t know he was there. I told him not to come around again, and two days later I see him inside the building with a woman who’s visiting Monica Stevens.”

  “Did you report the incident to the police, Mr. Delaney?” Phoebe asked.

  “No, I didn’t. I didn’t expect him to come back. Then I saw him coming out of the gym with that young woman.” He looked around. “The one who’s staying with your niece,” he said to Phoebe. “How’re you going to protect my daughter?”

  “Mr. Delaney, steps have been taken to protect all the residents of this building since Miz Pruitt’s death. If I told you what protection the building has, then everyone would know, including the perpetrator. We don’t know if these acts are being committed by someone who lives in or outside of The Albatross. I’d like to talk more with you.”

  “Honestly, Detective, I have no faith in anyone protecting my daughter but myself. It’s time for the police to step up their investigation. This Spaltro kid spells trouble.”

  It was Kate’s restraining hand on his arm that stopped Tom from saying more. He frowned at her, nodded at the judge and Latasha, and walked quickly out of the clubroom.

  “So, maybe this kid is the murderer?” Yetta asked loudly.

  “Nah, he’s just a kid with the hots for that girl,” Chester answered her. “I’m thinkin’ she led him on and now he’s in trouble. It’s what women do.” He glared at the elderly women around him. “Lead you on and then cry wolf,” he shouted.

  “Meeting is over,” the judge intoned.

  Chapter 62

  “I’ll call you every Sunday morning and Wednesdays too. I promise, Mom.” Alexis pushed the last of her duffel bags into the already loaded back seat of the Jetta and slammed the door shut. “Gainesville’s only four hours away. I can come back for weekends.”

  “Call if you need anything.” Kate kept her tears at bay. “Be careful and…” She turned and looked at the tall, white-robed man striding majestically across the parking lot, the wind ruffling his long hair. “Oh, god.”

  Alexis closed her eyes and braced herself. “I was hoping to avoid this. How did he know I was leaving?”

  “Probably looked out the window,” Kate replied.

  “At six in the morning?”

  “Morning prayers,” Kate guessed.

  “Alexis, my daughter. You were leaving without saying goodbye to your father?” Stewart intoned.

  Alexis looked at him squarely. “Did you say goodbye when you skipped off to your monastery? You left us flat—and never called us, either. Fathers don’t do that. I don’t owe you a goodbye.” Her voice was oddly flat, her recriminations merely factual.

  Stewart arched his eyebrows at Kate. “Are these ideas you put into her head?”

  “Don’t even think about blaming Mom for anything. She picked up the pieces you left behind. And then you come here? We came here to get away from home, where we were the laughing stock of Rumson.”

  “I—” Stewart began.

  “I don’t want to talk to you, not until you go back to being the father I knew growing up. I don’t know or like who you are, and I don’t care how long or white your robes are. You’re even ruining this moment for me with Mom. Go away!” She glared at her father.

  Stewart stood motionless and stared at his daughter before he stiffened his shoulders and quickly walked away.

  Alexis stared at his retreating back then turned to her mother. “Maybe he’ll lay off now.”

  “I’m sorry, honey.” Kate wiped her eyes.

  “For what? You’re not responsible for him. He’s his own boss.” She looked her watch. “I’d better go. Amanda is waiting for me.”

  “I’m glad you’ve got such a nice girl to room with you at the university.” Kate hugged Alexis tightly. “Call me when you get there?”

  “Yup, I will. Bye, Mom.” She slid into her car and fastened her seat belt. “Love you.” Alexis put her hand out the window and waved at her mother as she pulled away.

  “Love you more,” Kate called, arrested tears finally spilling over as the car turned onto the street.

  A comforting hand rested on her shoulder. She turned to see Tom Delaney behind her. She wiped her tears away and smiled. “Morning, Tom. You’re up early.”

  “Alexis called me last night and told me to be in the parking lot at six-fifteen. Guess she wanted to make sure you were okay after she left.” He looked down at Kate. “Had breakfast yet?”

  Kate shook her head.

  “Hurricane Café has a great breakfast. Join me and we’ll talk about the girls.” He smiled.

  “Don’t feel much like eating, but once I get there I’m sure that’ll change.” She slipped her hand into Tom’s and looked up at him. “Thank you, Tom.”

  “I should be thanking you. Eating breakfast alone is lonely.” Tom squeezed her hand then put his arm around her as they headed for his car.

  ***

  From his seventh floor window, Stewart looked at the scene in the parking lot. He saw Tom talking to Kate, saw her reach for Tom’s hand, and Tom pulling Kate close as they walked to his car. Stewart stared at the car as it left the parking lot and disappeared into the traffic. He remained motionless at the window, lost in thought.

  Finally, he turned away. His mirrored image stopped him. He looked at his reflection as if seeing himself in his monk’s attire for the first time. Slowly, he loosened the thick blue cord around his waist, unhooked the catches on his robe and let it all fall to the floor. His former monk-like persona vanished as the jeans and tee shirt he wore under the robes emerged.

  Kicking the robe away from his feet, Stewart went to the closet, grabbed his suitcase and tossed it on the bed. He opened the dresser drawers, removed some shirts, threw them into the suitcase and snapped it shut. He picked up the telephone and jabbed at the buttons.

  “Stewart Parker. Please send a car to The Albatross to take me to the airport, as soon as possible.” Once finished, he picked up his wallet, shoving it into the pocket of his jeans. From the closet, he took a windbreaker, pausing a moment to look at the gleaming, white robes draped there. Pulling them off their hangers, he swiped the discarded robe off the floor and added it to the others in his arms. He bundled them into a ball and dropped them on the floor of the kitchen, next to the trash bin.

  Without a backward glance, Stewart grabbed his suitcase and left the apartment.

  Chapter 63

  “So good to see you aft
er all these years, Clancy.” Phoebe motioned Bridey and her father to the sofa across from her wing chair. She looked at the little Miniature Pinscher who stood guard at Clancy’s feet. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Shamus.” Clancy pointed to an invisible spot on the carpet. Shamus responded to the command with a sphinx-like position, his small ears so erect they seemed to be vibrating. “He’s my version of a police dog. Great for sniffing drugs, gets into small crevices better than a Shepherd, and he’s been known to bring down felons by tripping them and then hanging on to a limb like a tick.”

  “Well, aren’t you something,” Phoebe said to Shamus.

  “You like him?” Clancy asked.

  “I had a Doberman Pinscher when I was still on the bench. Shamus looks like a very tiny version of Watson.”

  “Watson?” Bridey laughed.

  “He was great at detecting anything that didn’t belong where it was,” Phoebe explained.

  “Well, Shamus is good at that too.” Clancy cleared his throat. “Er-r-r-r, Judge Burlingame, I have a proposition for you.” His face reddened. “Bridey told me you were attacked. I’d like to lend you Shamus to give you some protection.”

  Phoebe shook her head. “So good of you, Clancy, but I’m not able to care for a dog. I get around just fine, but the thought of having to walk any dog a few times a day—I just can’t do it.”

  “Yes, well, Bridey, here, is staying in the building. Walking Shamus would give her a reason to get around, see what’s going on. And you’d have the benefit of his keen hearing and protection.”

  Phoebe looked doubtfully at the small dog so intently watching her, then at Clancy’s earnest face. “I don’t really…I’m not set up for…”

  “We’ve everything you need, Judge,” Bridey interjected. “We came prepared. Ooops.” She looked at her father. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you Dad had this in mind when he made this trip here.”

  “You saved my life once, Clancy.” Phoebe smiled at him. “You don’t have to keep on doing it.”

  “Aw-w, Judge, that was forty years ago. Time to start over,” Clancy joked. “So, it’s a yes? Shamus may look like a tough cop, but he is lovable.”

  Chapter 64

  She wasn’t sure she was awake or dreaming. Bright moonlight from the opened louvered shutters streamed into the room. Phoebe opened her eyes wider. She felt a solid warmth against her legs—an alert Shamus, his body vibrating like a tightly strung wire. The little dog rose, looking at the closed bedroom door, hackles erect, lips drawn back, exposing white, sharp teeth. A soft deep growl belied his miniature size.

  Phoebe swung her legs out of bed into waiting slippers and pulled on her robe. She slid her hand under the pillow and drew out a Glock G 26. It fit snugly into her palm.

  Shamus looked over his shoulder at her before he jumped off the bed with what could only be described as a Super Dog leap, landing softly at the closed door. Phoebe didn’t question the dog’s actions. From Clancy’s explanation of Shamus’s training, she knew the dog was reacting to something he heard or sensed on the other side of the door. She grabbed Oliver who was always nearby and leaned on him as she made her way to the door. Her hip was acting up again.

  Shamus’s growl turned to a high whine as he dug into the carpet, eager to get to the other side of the door. Phoebe leaned Oliver against the wall before she unlocked the bedroom door, a precaution she had developed when she was still on the bench. ‘Better safe than sorry’ was her motto.

  “Shamus, stay!” she ordered in a low tone and turned the knob slowly, leveling the gun before her. The dog stood quietly, body tensed, waiting for Phoebe’s signal. Years of disciplined calmness had prepared her for any situation. Phoebe opened the door, inch by inch, until it was opened wide enough for her to walk through. Soft light streamed in through the plantation shutters, illuminating the living room and the corridor leading to the apartment’s outer door. Nothing seemed out of order.

  “Shamus, go check,” Phoebe said, using the terminology as Clancy had instructed.

  She waited as the dog skimmed across the perimeter of the room in decreasing circles, nose sometimes in the air, sometimes at the floor. His survey took him to the apartment’s door. He stood stock still, nose pressed to the door’s crack. Whatever it was that alerted him was on the other side of the door.

  Phoebe had seen enough. Armed though she was, she knew when to get help. She reached for the cell phone in her robe pocket and pressed a speed dial number. It was answered almost immediately.

  “Clancy? Shamus woke me. I think someone may have been trying to get into my apartment.” She listened to the voice on the other end of the phone. “I’m fine but I don’t want to open the door in case there’s evidence there I may disturb. Can you come down and take a look?” She hung up the call and looked down at Shamus. “Well, my friend, seems you deserve a reward for your efforts. Let’s go get a treat while we wait for Clancy.” Phoebe started for the kitchen, but Shamus stood fast. He looked at her and then at the door.

  “Job not done yet?” Phoebe sat down in a nearby wing chair. “I understand that kind of dedication, little guy.”

  She leaned her head back on the chair and waited for Clancy’s arrival. Whatever happened to my well-ordered life? Do I have to move to a deserted island to find total peace and finish my memoirs? Or, maybe I’m not destined to find tranquility. Ever.

  Chapter 65

  “Man!” Latasha wiped the perspiration from her forehead with a napkin and set her coffee cup down. She stared at the screen in Bridey’s makeshift office.

  Prescott, minus his Monica disguise, leaned against the wall, hands in pockets, eyes trained on the same screen. “What the hell is that?” he asked, walking closer to the monitor.

  “A device on the door knob set to go off when the knob was turned,” Clancy muttered. “Lucky the judge decided to call for assistance. And the person setting it appears to be the same image we saw on the previous tape.” He frowned as he watched the cloaked figure bending over Phoebe’s doorknob.

  “If you hadn’t given her Shamus, she wouldn’t have known anyone had done anything to the door,” Bridey said to her father.

  “Good move, Sergeant.” Latasha addressed Clancy by his former police rank. “That little bugger’s a better surveillance system than the buildin’s expensive equipment.” She looked at the stilled image of the suspect. “Yeah. Looks ‘xactly like the same person we saw before. But what good is it when we can’t see a face an’ the body’s got yards of black material hangin’ off it?” She closed her eyes and shook her head, frustrated by her inability to move the case forward and solve it. The chief was getting tired and antsy. If she couldn’t figure it out, he would give it to another detective, and there went her promotion and raise.

  “Detective?” Clancy looked at Latasha closely. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine, Sergeant. Just thinkin’ is all.” She turned to Prescott. “Monica’s done no good here, ‘cept to rack up some big food bills.” She glared at him as Prescott began to protest. “It ain’t workin’, Prescott. As of now, you’re goin’ to work foot patrol around here. No one knows what Prescott Dennison looks like so, so you could just be security. Just lay off the Monica perfume,” she added, only half-joking.

  Prescott raised his hands. “Okay, got it, got it.”

  “Detective Ezuma,” Bridey turned from the monitor and motioned to Latasha. “Take a look at this.” She pointed at the magnified image on the screen to what looked like the toe of a sneaker peeking out from under the cloak. “It looks like a Nike Air Force sneaker, just like the one Adrian Spaltro was wearing the day he came here to work out with me.” She sat back to let Latasha look at the screen.

  “Yeah, like the kind half of my son’s basketball team wears too,” Latasha said. “We can’t book him on that alone.”

  “Do you have probable cause to go into his home and look for the black robe? Or any other evidence that may be there?” Clancy asked.

  “
No, nothin’ solid,” Latasha admitted.

  “Then you have to get this guy to come back and get something on him.” Clancy turned to Bridey. “Why were you working out with him?”

  “He was on our list of suspects,” Bridey explained. “I thought if I could get close to him, I’d be able to find something. But he was slick and watched what he said.”

  “Make another date for right here, on the property,” Clancy said. “I don’t want you leaving with any slime-ball like him.”

  “Dad—”

  Clancy cut her short. “No, not while I’m here, it’s not gonna happen. When you’re on your own, I don’t know what you do. But I’m here, and I do know, so like I said, it’s not gonna happen.” He folded his arms over his chest.

  Latasha looked at them both. “You’re a good dad. Wish my kid had one like you,” she said wistfully. “Okay, here’s what we’re gon’ do.” She turned to Prescott. “I’m changin’ my mind. Now you’re gon’ be Bridey’s brother.” She cut her eyes at him. “Uh hunh, brother, that’s what I said. As her brother, you hang out with her, work out, eat together, play together—”

  Latasha frowned at Prescott. “You gon’ treat her like a real brother would. That way, you don’ leave her alone and you hear what she hears. And,” she looked at them both, “this starts now. You two get your heads together and get Spaltro here. Get it goin.’ I wanna wrap this up real soon, y’understand? An’ if you can get him to invite you to his place, you both go and one of you looks around while the other keeps Spaltro busy. Any questions?” She looked at them squarely.