10. Dayton
CHAPTER 10
Dayton
“S he was stabbed one hundred and four times,” Detective Burros says as I look through the photos he handed me. I’ve read that number in my case file numerous times, but hearing it again while looking at the crime scene photos makes me realize how much rage was involved in the murder of Alice Groden.
“She was caught off guard by the attack, and it wasn’t planned.” I lift my gaze to him, his partner, Detective Shaw, and the woman who has been sitting quietly at their side—Ms. Janelle Branch, the podcaster who came across the story of Alice Groden and shared it with her followers. She’s young, maybe twenty-five, and reminds me a little of Franny, with her dark-blonde hair, air of femininity, and glint of wisdom far beyond her years in her eyes.
“He might not have gone into her home with a weapon, but that doesn’t mean the attack wasn’t planned,” Janelle says softly, glancing over at Detective Burros. “He could have known she was there alone and gone over with the intent to rape her. We know he has a history of that.” Her eyes come to me. “During my investigation, I found out that Charles had been staying off and on with his brother, who lived across the street. He could have been watching her for a while and waiting for his moment to strike.”
“This isn’t a podcast,” Burros tells her, and she presses her lips together.
“I’m on the same page as Janelle,” Shaw says, then adds while ticking off on his fingers, “Nothing was taken from her apartment. Her purse was left untouched. There was money out on the counter left by Greg so Alice could go to the hair salon that afternoon. And she still had on all her jewelry. Her pants were undone, but she was still fully clothed. If he had tried to rape her and she started fighting and was getting away, he could have grabbed the closest thing he could get his hand on and used it as a weapon.”
The weapon he’s referring to is the knife that matched the ones that she and her husband had gotten as a wedding present just a few months prior. The handle was recovered from the scene, and the blade was later recovered from one of the wounds in Alice’s back, where it had broken off.
“And he knew that she would be able to identify him for attacking her, and he’d go to jail, so he couldn’t leave her alive,” Shaw concludes.
“Not that it would matter,” Janelle mutters.
“Don’t start that again,” Burros says, and Janelle rolls her eyes.
“What’s that about?” I ask, focusing on her.
Burros interrupts before she can answer for herself. “She thinks that the cops were covering for Charles because he was an informant.”
“What?” I look between the three of them.
“From what I was able to uncover, Charles had been working with the police. It’s why he was let off the hook with barely a slap on the wrist all the times he was arrested prior to the murder of Debra Oshae.”
“Is there any truth to that claim?” I ask, looking between the two detectives.
“We don’t know for certain, but we couldn’t find any evidence that it was true.”
“Did you speak to the officers who were involved about this?” I ask, and they glance at each other. “As you know, if an officer has an informant working for them and that informant gets charged with a crime, the officer involved can be held liable. That would be a pretty fucking big reason for them to ignore the confession given by Charles back then.”
“Exactly.” Janelle smiles triumphantly.
“Jesus,” I mutter, scrubbing my fingers through my hair. “Do you have the information you’ve collected from the case for your podcast?”
“Yep.” She opens her purse and pulls out a file that is about ten times bigger than the one I received from Mary. “This is everything.” She passes it over to me, then reaches back into her bag and pulls out a card, handing that over as well. “That’s my podcast if you want to listen. I’ve interviewed her husband and her family and friends.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She sits back and lets out a breath before looking over at Burros. He looks annoyed, but she doesn’t seem at all fazed. “Me and the guys might not agree on everything, but we do agree that we want the man responsible for killing Alice charged for her murder. She deserves that, and her family does, too.”
“I’m going to take my time going through all of this, and then I’ll want to sit down with you guys again before I bring her family in.” I look at Burros and Shaw. “I’m also going to need to speak with the detectives who handled this case. Can you get their information for me?”
“Yeah,” Shaw says.
“Thanks.” I stand, and they all get up from their chairs as I move around my desk and toward the door. “Thanks for coming in today.” I shake the two detectives’ hands, then do the same with Janelle.
“My cell phone number is on that card I gave you. If you have any questions for me, just reach out.”
“Will do,” I reply, then wait until they leave my office before I go back to my desk. After gathering all my stuff, I dial Franny’s number as I head out of my office.
“Hey,” she answers on the third ring.
“Hey, I’m leaving work now. What are you in the mood for?”
“Toast.”
I might laugh if I thought she was joking.
“You’re not eating toast for dinner,” I tell her.
“I don’t want you to waste money if I might just get sick.”
“I was at your appointment today, Dr. Bride made it clear that you need to eat smaller meals more often, so what do you want me to pick up?”
“You’re not going to give this up, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Fine.” She sighs making me smile. “I’ll take an order of the tomato soup from Joe’s and a grilled cheese.”
“All right, I should be to you in an hour, maybe a little less.”
“I’ll be here,” she says before saying goodbye and hanging up.
Hopping into my SUV, I get myself situated, then search for Janelle’s podcast on my phone. Once I have it plugged in, I press Play on the first episode.
“Hey, Forgotten Family, and welcome to another season ofThe Forgottenand an all-new unsolved murder. This case was recommended to me by a listener out of Tennessee, and I have to tell you, I was not expecting it to take me on the adventure I’ve been on since I started looking into this mystery. So sit back and relax while I tell you about Alice Groden.”
Music begins to play before it tapers off, and Janelle’s voice once again flows through the speakers.
“Alice Groden was only twenty years old when she was murdered in the apartment she shared with her husband, Greg, and their newborn son, Jayson. She had her whole future ahead of her, and by all accounts, that future looked bright. She was going to college and on the road to graduating with a degree in education despite recently getting married and giving birth to her son. She had a great family and lots of close friends, who all absolutely adored her. And according to her husband, who she dated all throughout high school, their son might not have been planned, but getting married and starting a family was inevitable.”
As I drive to pick up dinner for Franny and me and make my way across town to our building, I listen to Janelle talk about Alice. About her family, her friends, her job at a fast-food place before the birth of her son, and her life as a wife, mom, friend and sister. Most of the information is stuff I know from her file, but hearing Janelle talk about her brings her to life and makes me feel more connected to her. By the time I arrive at our building and find parking, the first episode comes to an end, and the intro to the second episode begins to play. I’ve never listened to a true crime podcast before; I never understood the appeal. But as I shut off the engine and the audio cuts off along with it, I get it.
Grabbing the bag of food off the passenger seat, I walk to Franny’s private door and knock… then knock again when she doesn’t answer.
“Sorry,” I hear behind me as I’m about to pull my phone out.
Turning, I see PJ on his leash, with Franny jogging down the block behind him. She’s wearing a tank and a pair of paint-covered baggy overalls that look ridiculous on her, and her long hair is braided to one side.
“I wanted to take him out before you got here so I wouldn’t have to while we were eating.” She stops in front of me with a smile that hits me right in the chest. “Were you waiting long?”
“No, I just got here.” I look down when I feel something hit my knee and find PJ standing on his back legs.
“Hey, bud.” I bend and rub the top of his head as she opens the door.
“How was your meeting?” she asks.
“Informative.” I follow her inside and glance around, which is something I didn’t take the time to do the last couple of times I was here. Her apartment is one of the bigger studios, but the windows at the top of the ceiling are set back in the concrete blocks, so there is no way to cover them. There is also no bedroom or real division of the space at all. And with all of her painting supplies and the boxes stacked here and there, it doesn’t look like anyone actually lives here. It looks like what it was meant to be for her: a workspace.
“Is that good or bad?”
“I’m not sure yet. I got some details today that I’m going to have to look into.”
“That sounds mysterious.” She glances at me over her shoulder as she unhooks PJ’s leash, and I smile.
“There is a possibility that the guy we want to bring a case against was a police informant during the time he committed the murder. If that happens to be true, it could explain why, when he confessed, officers attempted to discredit his confession.”
“So the guy you are building a case against already confessed to the crime?”
“He did, but he later said that his confession was coerced and took it all back.”
“And the officers didn’t want him to confess to a murder because they… what?” She frowns. “Could be in trouble?”
“Basically.”
“Wow, that all sounds really complicated.”
“A little.” I place the bag I’m still holding on the counter. “Are you ready to eat?”
“Yes, and I took the pill Dr. Bride prescribed me, which seems to actually be working.”
“Good.” I open the bag and start taking out the food. “How have you been sleeping?”
“I’m making it work. My mom got me a sleep mask and that’s helping a little.”
“What’s going on with the sale of the condo?”
“Matthew called this morning to let me know that he’s in the process of getting a line of credit in order to give me the money for my half of the condo.”
“That’s good.” I pass over her soup and sandwich.
“I’ll believe it when I have the check in my hand.” She sighs, then adds, “I’m giving him until the end of the month, and then I’m talking to Phillip.” She places her food on the counter and continues talking softly. “I just want to be settled somewhere before I’m too far along. I don’t want to have to rush setting up a nursery or getting ready for the baby.” She looks at me and smiles. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good.” I’m only a little lightheaded, thinking about how quickly December is going to be here. In just a few months, she will be showing, and then after that, the baby will be here, and we will be parents. I still don’t think I’ve fully wrapped my head around that.
“Sure you are, big guy.” She laughs softly and then looks around. “We can eat at the table. Normally, when Molly’s here, we drag my TV out. We can do that if you want to watch something while we eat.”
“That’s fine. Tomorrow, if you want, you can come up to my place for dinner.”
“I actually have dinner plans tomorrow.” She tips her head to the side. “But I’m free Saturday.”
“Saturday works.”
Dragging her bottom lip through her teeth, she nods, then asks, “Do you want a drink? I have water, sparkling water, wine, and I think I might have a beer somewhere in the fridge.”
“Just water, but I can get it and whatever you’re drinking.”
“I’ll have water too. There’s a jug in the fridge.” Since her glasses are out in the open, I grab two of them, then open the fridge and take out the filtering pitcher. I pour each of us a glass while she disappears behind a stack of boxes. When she comes out a minute later, she’s rolling what looks like a giant iPad on a stand, with an extension cord dragging behind it.
“So, how’s that thing with Billy’s assistant going?” she asks as I carry our drinks to the table.
“She hasn’t been at work.”
“She hasn’t?”
“Monday, Billy had a meeting and addressed the story from the news, then told everyone that she and I are dating. She’s called out every day since then.”
Her nose scrunches. “That had to be embarrassing.”
“She made her bed.” I shrug, going back to the kitchen to get our food.
“Yeah, but you don’t know what he told her behind closed doors. If it was the same girl I spoke to the day I came to see you, she’s young and probably thinking with her heart, not her head.”
“Babe, she might be young, but she’s old enough to know that you shouldn’t get into a relationship with a man who is married.”
“I think we can both agree that sometimes, when you’re living in the moment, you’re not thinking about the consequences of your actions, big guy.” Her cheeks darken as her eyes roam my face.
“ Touché .”
“And I’m not excusing what she did.” She wanders back into the kitchen, with PJ following her. “I just think she might deserve a little grace.” Her eyes come to me after she gives him a bone-shaped treat from a jar on the counter.
“Even knowing Billy’s wife and how this might affect her and their kids?” I lean back against the sink across from her, and she crosses her arms over her chest.
“If you and I were together and I told you that we were in a committed relationship and that there would never be anyone but you, but then I cheated with another man, would that be the man’s fault or mine?”
Some made-up fucking scenario shouldn’t make my neck tighten, and my hands clench into fists.
“Does he know about me?”
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “Yet I could have told him that we were separated but still living together because of the kids or that you’re a dick and treat me like garbage, and I’m just waiting for the chance to leave you. The possibilities are endless because he doesn’t know you. He only knows what I tell him about you and our relationship.”
“Then it would be your fault.” I try to keep my voice even.
“Exactly. Shelly’s marriage vows were with Billy, not with whatever her name is. So, at the end of the day, he’s the only person in that situation who is responsible for what’s happening or what might happen,” she says, and I stare at her. “What?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head.
“You want to say I’m right, don’t you?” Her smile is so smug I want to kiss it off her fucking lips. “It’s okay, big guy.” She closes the distance between us and pats my chest. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m happy living in the knowledge that you and I both know I’m right.” With one last pat to my chest and her smile even brighter, she turns on her heels and walks to the table, leaving me watching her go.
Yeah, she’s going to fuck up my life.