Chapter 13 Diem
Diem
Alice, whose real name was Rebecca according to her name tag, didn’t mention the strange exchange she’d witnessed in the vestibule. We signed in and explained our purpose. Rebecca informed us that Marcy had arrived early for her shift and was already bustling about. We headed off to locate her.
Evergreen’s custodian was not lingering in the cleaning supply room, so we wandered the halls until a nurse directed us to where she’d last been seen. We found her—yellow rubber gloves to her elbows and carrying a mop and bucket—exiting one of the seniors’ private rooms.
“Hello, Mrs. Daily.” Tallus’s cheerful tone suggested they had been friends for years.
Marcy seemed to take a minute to absorb every nuance of Tallus’s face before recognition dawned, brightening her eyes. “Well, I’ll be. I remember you.”
Marcy set her mop and bucket beside a cart, removed the gloves with a squelch of rubber, and propped her hands on her hips.
“You’re the fella who was with Aaron the other day.
He called me up that night and talked a tale about you.
I think he’s smitten. Tallus, isn’t it? Are you available? My boy needs to settle down.”
I internally sighed. Everyone was smitten with my boyfriend. Too fucking bad, Aaron. He’s mine.
“Um.” Tallus flushed.
Enjoying his discomfort, I elbowed him. “Well? Are you?”
“Oh gosh.” Marcy went on. “There I go again. Aaron says I’m too presumptuous, and I am. Ignore me. None of my business. What can I do for you, young man?”
Marcy had to be in her fifties, but she could have passed for a healthy forty-something if she wanted to.
Her long, thick hair fell in a braid over her shoulder, a rich mahogany that didn’t come from a box.
A few flyaway strands of silver joined the mix, but barely enough to count.
Her cheeks glowed with a natural blush, and her eyes were kind, creased at the sides from a lifetime of smiling, which she was doing now.
Something in her demeanor made her instantly likable and approachable. Despite the bitter annoyance from her comment, my blood pressure settled for the first time since my encounter with Leroy.
Tallus touched my arm. “This is my partner, Diem Krause. We’re private investigators for Shadowy Solutions.
” Tallus presented his credentials with the flair of an FBI detective on the set of a criminal investigation drama, looking into a serial homicide.
“We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions.”
Marcy looked appropriately shaken. Her easy smile vanished as she glanced from me to Tallus before seeming to notice Echo for the first time. “What’s this about? I thought you were planning a party. Aaron said—”
“I am—”
“We’re investigating missing money.” I removed my fedora, tucking it under my arm.
Tallus mentioned once how it came across as intimidating.
We needed this woman to be agreeable. “One of the seniors was targeted in what is commonly known as a grandparent scheme. He was conned out of tens of thousands of dollars. We’re helping the police get to the bottom of it. ”
We weren’t, but acting as though we were affiliated with the police often encouraged people to be more cooperative. I didn’t know how much information had been shared with the staff at Evergreen, but Marcy didn’t seem all that surprised.
“Elwood Scarrow.” She nodded. “Yes. I knew something was going on. I didn’t know what. That’s awful.”
“Do you have a minute to chat?” Tallus asked.
“Sure, but why me?”
“We believe you might have interacted with the person responsible.”
“Oh. Oh my. Um… Okay. Let me take this cart back to the supply room. I’ll log a break, and we can talk in the dining hall. It should be relatively empty at this time.”
I’d brought the company iPad with our illicitly obtained footage of Evergreen security downloaded into a file.
Once Marcy was settled at a far table, across the room from the three women sharing coffee and conversation, we began.
Marcy nervously twined her fingers on her lap like she thought we might accuse her of being the money thief.
I drew up the correct video and turned the screen, hitting play on the final day of Faux Kael’s visit, specifically, his departure.
“There’s not a lot to see,” I explained. “This video was taken back in December, but we would love it if you could tell us what you remember of this man.”
Marcy watched the brief exchange with a furrowed brow.
The sharing of a cigarette. The request for a lighter.
When the two exited the frame, I switched to the outdoor camera.
She handed the man the lighter, and they smoked for a moment before heading off across the parking lot and turning right at the sidewalk.
I stopped the video once they were gone.
Marcy continued to stare at the iPad, her face a picture of concentration.
“Do you remember that at all, Mrs. Daily?” Tallus asked.
“Yes. Why, yes. He said his name was Ka-el.” She made a point of pronouncing it as two syllables.
“I remember because I thought he said kale at first, and what a silly name that would be. Kale is about the worst vegetable I can think of.” She made a face.
“Awful. Simply awful. I told him about my son. Aaron makes smoothies with kale all the time. He’s been trying to get me to drink them for years, claiming they’re healthy. ”
She shook her head. A few strands of loose hair stuck to her cheeks and forehead. “They’re not for me. Even with honey. Too earthy.”
“Did this man say anything else?” I asked, redirecting her attention. It was wishful thinking. Most people couldn’t regurgitate a conversation they’d had with a stranger three days ago, let alone three months.
“I can’t recall what we talked about. Just chitchat like you do with someone you don’t know. I probably mentioned the weather. Might have asked if he liked sports. The boys always like sports.”
“Do you walk to work and home, Mrs. Daily?” Tallus asked.
“Oh gracious no. I take the bus.” She tipped her head to the side, still staring at the still image on the screen. “He rode with me. We ended up at the same bus stop and had a good laugh when we discovered we were going in the same direction. I remember that. Does that help?”
I glanced at Tallus, who sat straighter. “Possibly. What bus do you take? Do you remember where he got off?”
“I do… sort of.” Marcy’s gaze drifted inward, no longer staring at the screen. She narrowed her eyes as though forcing a memory to materialize. “I take the bus all the way to Islington Station, but he got off before. Now, where was it?”
Her gaze shifted side-to-side like she was referencing the layout of a map or seeing the streets from a bus window as they passed her by.
“I… I can’t remember the intersection. I’m not familiar with the area, but when he got off, he said goodbye.
I watched him hop down the steps and head directly inside a townhouse…
or is it a brownstone? One of those buildings with multiple apartments inside.
Is that what you call it? A brownstone? He went to the basement, down concrete steps at the side, to a lower door.
It was a dirty area. One of those sketchy neighborhoods where drug deals happen in the open.
Gosh, he seemed so young. The mother in me worried. ”
Tallus snagged the iPad. “Is there a Wi-Fi password in this building?”
“Um—” Marcy glanced at me.
“Never mind.” Tallus dug his phone from a pocket. “I’ll use a hotspot. Which bus do you take?”
Marcy relayed the information and stared at Tallus as he pulled up routes for the area in question. While he searched, I continued to get as much information as possible.
“Did this guy talk about who he visited?”
“No. Well, maybe. I don’t recall.”
“Could you describe him?”
“Hm. Now, let’s see.” Marcy returned to her inner data bank, a stitch deepening her brows. “Not with any accuracy. He had his hood pulled up. It was a cold day, but it shadowed his features. I remember trying to pin an age on him, but his face was too obscure.”
“Did he have any unique markings? A mole or visible scar?”
“I told you. I couldn’t see his face.”
“Did he talk with a lisp or have bizarre tics like excessively wetting his lips or cracking his knuckles?”
“He smoked.”
I bit back sarcasm and went with, “Yes, we knew that already.”
“Oh, right. The video.”
“How about tattoos or piercings?”
“No. Like I said—” She jolted upright. “Wait. Wait, yes. Tattoos. On his knuckles. I noticed when he smoked. Awful things. One side said ANTI, the other said HERO. They looked…” She tsked.
“Unprofessional. Not that tattoos ever look professional. He also wore a fidget ring on the index finger of his left hand. It covered the H in hero, but I could still make it out. On the bus, he spun the ring endlessly. Round and round like he was nervous. It caught my attention.”
“A fidget ring. What’s that?”
“It has an outer band that spins around the stationary inner band. His was braided. The outer part. It’s a tactile thing.
People use the rings for stress relief. ADHD.
They help with anxiety and restlessness.
Smokers and nail-biters in particular use them because it gives them something to do with their hands. ”
Marcy spread her fingers on the table, yellow nicotine stains coloring the cuticles.
“I should get one. Aaron’s been telling me to quit smoking for years.
I picked it back up again after his father left.
Forty years without a cigarette, then bam.
Like I never quit. I started back in high school. In college—”
“What color?” I interrupted. I had no desire to walk down memory lane with Marcy. I had my own issues with addiction.
“I’m sorry? Color?”
“The ring. Was it silver? Gold?”
“Oh. The braided part was blue. The exterior was black. I don’t think it was valuable. Cheap cosmetic jewelry. You know the type. He seemed nervous. Buzzing on the inside. I wanted to ask if everything was okay, but it wasn’t my place.”
Tallus set the iPad on the table. He’d found a bus map and zoomed it in on the route between Evergreen and Islington Station. “Can you give us an idea where his stop might have been? Ballpark, even.”
Marcy studied the map for a moment before indicating a general area.
“Somewhere in here. The stop was right outside his building.
Like I said, he got off and went directly inside before we pulled away.
It was a two-story brown brick structure.
Not in great shape. The paint around the window frames was flaking and peeling.
It had a black wrought iron railing leading to the front door. A few steps up to a cement porch.
“The basement entrance was off to the side. In the bay window, someone had hung a flag instead of a curtain. I don’t know what it represented.
It was orange and… not a country flag, but for sports, I think.
Football maybe? Not a team I recognized.
It had an animal on it. I can’t remember what kind.
With teeth. A lion? A tiger? Gosh, I’m not very helpful. ”
“You’ve been exceptionally helpful.” Tallus took the iPad back and drew up a Google map, zeroing in on the area Marcy had indicated. He zoomed in, focusing on a four-block radius.
I dug a card from my wallet and slid it across the table. “If you remember anything else, give us a call.”