Page 17 of Whispers Left Behind (Kinsley Aspen #1)

Chapter Seventeen

Alex Lanen October Tuesday — 11:19 am

It was obvious that the seedy used car dealership was the kind that thrived on promises of desperation, relying on slick financing offers and the vulnerable positions of their customers. The lot was a collection of past-their-prime vehicles. Most had been angled in such a way as to hide their worn paint jobs and rust spots.

“Do you believe Zayn?” Alex asked Kinsley as he parked next to a faded inflatable banner. The advertisement item was struggling to remain upright against the strong winds and practically completely bent in the middle forcing the fabric to flap in the opposite direction. “Between the life insurance policy and the will, we’re assuming Hanson’s death is about greed.”

“I got the sense that Zayn believed what he was spouting today, but I’m still going to submit for a warrant. I want to read the details of the will myself,” Kinsley said, her voice coming through the Camaro’s speakers loud and clear. Alex shifted the gear into park, allowing the engine to idle while she continued her side of the conversation. “I’m driving back to the station now. It shouldn’t take long for us to obtain the traffic cam footage from the city of Halliday. Oh, and Izzy finished up with Rachel’s vehicle. There was no paint transfer left by the other vehicle involved.”

The disappointment in Kinsley’s tone was obvious.

Nothing about this investigation had been easy.

“I finished the paperwork that we needed to submit from the events over the weekend,” Alex divulged as he spotted the front door of the building open. “Speak of the devil.”

“What was that?”

Since Alex had murmured those last four words under his breath, it was no wonder that Kinsley hadn’t been able to hear him. His focus was currently on Joe Cider. The man had a smile pasted on his face wider than the dealership’s name on the front side of the building.

“Nothing,” Alex responded as he reached out and hovered his finger over the engine button. He always carried the keyfob in the pocket of his pants. It had been his intention to drive one of the unmarked cruisers, but his preferred vehicle had already been signed out by Haugen. The other cars were older and uncomfortable for longer drives. “Listen, Hanson’s cell phone records came in. I forwarded you a copy.”

“I’ll comb through them this afternoon to verify Jack Hanson’s statement.”

“Talk to you soon.”

Alex pressed the engine button, effectively ending their call. By this time, Cider was halfway across the parking lot. The man had paused only to zip his jacket. Alex reached for his own before opening the driver’s side door.

“Morning,” Joe called out cheerfully as he approached Alex. “I’ve got to say, that’s a nice-looking ride you have there. I can only imagine what your monthly payments are, though.”

Alex refrained from immediately replying to the leading comments. He reached into his pocket, pressing the lock button on his keyfob. The loud beep signified the locks had engaged, and the task bought time for him to put on his jacket. He wasn’t so sure that they would be standing outside for long after he explained the reason for his visit.

As Alex adjusted his collar so that it rested smoothly over his suit jacket, Joe lowered his gaze to the badge clipped to his belt. He had honestly expected to have a brief conversation about Rachel Hanson, the man’s previous employment, and clear up any misunderstanding that might have taken place at the Fallbrook dealership. What Alex hadn’t anticipated was Joe Cider’s fight-or-flight instinct to kick in. From the way Cider’s smile faltered and eventually faded, flight had won hands down.

“Shit,” Alex muttered under his breath when Joe spun around and bolted across the parking lot. “Cider, don’t do this!”

Alex had no choice but to surge forward. The soles of his shoes pounded against the pavement as he took chase. The pursuit had them weaving through the parked cars in the lot before spilling into the small intersection. Mott wasn’t that large of a town, but Cider had the advantage. He had knowledge of every alley, road, and parcel of land that could aid him in disappearing from sight.

Cider suddenly darted across the street, narrowly avoiding a vehicle whose driver had to slam on her brakes to avoid hitting Alex. The brief interruption had him slowing down and deviating from his path. As the woman pressed her horn in anger, Alex managed to veer around the back end and spot Cider already running down the sidewalk.

“Damn it.”

Cider glanced back before darting down a narrow alleyway. Alex’s breathing was ragged, and the frigid air seared his lungs. It didn’t help that his leg muscles were protesting with every lunge forward.

Not wanting to get caught off guard, Alex was forced to slow his pace as he entered the alleyway. The rattling of a chain-link fence being made and the sight of Cider attempting to scramble over the barrier had Alex picking up speed. Without hesitation, he jumped with the intention of snatching Cider’s pant leg.

Alex missed the fabric by mere inches.

The thought of his gym bag on the floor by his desk at the station came to mind as he climbed over the fence. He didn’t land gracefully, but then again, neither had Cider. Fortunately, there was an open field ahead of them. The only plausible explanation for taking such a barren route was all-out panic.

Alex’s body ached from exertion, but he would be damned if he had to explain to Kinsley that he couldn’t keep up with a man at least ten years his junior. He allowed his pent-up frustration and anger over Laura ending their relationship to fuel him. He pushed himself to run faster, closing the distance between them.

There was a small house up ahead with two empty laundry lines. Cider would have to duck or go around them. Either way, Alex had the advantage.

Seizing the opportunity, he lunged and managed to tackle Cider to the ground. The man thrashed beneath Alex’s weight. Unable to get a good hold of Cider’s arms to pin him into the dry grass, they grappled with each other until Alex managed to finally grip the man’s wrist and yank his arm to put pressure on his shoulder.

Unfortunately, Alex’s effort had not been in time to stop Cider’s elbow from connecting with his jaw.

“Okay! Okay!”

“Don’t move,” Alex yelled as he reached for his handcuffs. “You have the right remain to remain silent. Anything you say…”

By the time Alex was done reciting the Miranda rights, a woman wearing an oversized jacket had stepped out onto her front porch. She already had a cell phone pressed to her ear.

“Stay down,” Alex muttered as he shifted to a kneeling position, refusing to sit his ass on the cold ground. “Ma’am, please tell the police that an FPD detective is on the scene. Have them send a patrol car this way.”

Alex rested a forearm on his knee, taking a moment to draw some oxygen into his lungs. He could barely move his jaw from side to side. Kinsley was going to give him hell over this injury.

He hadn’t given real thought to taking the sergeant’s exam, but he was beginning to understand the reason behind Laura’s choice to do so. Granted, a promotion meant more paperwork and responsibility, but it beat the hell out of chasing perps and pulling a hamstring.

“Why run, Cider?”

Alex didn’t get a response to his question until forty minutes after a patrol car had transferred Joe Cider to the sheriff’s office, which just so happened to be located inside the county courthouse. The officer had dropped Alex off at the used car dealership to pick up his car. After explaining to the owner that he would be short a salesperson for the rest of the day, Alex drove over to the courthouse to conduct his interview.

Seeing as Cider hadn’t requested a lawyer, Alex would take advantage of that poor decision. He pulled out a chair from the metal table without a word. One of the officers had handed him a cup of coffee, which he had gratefully taken before entering the small room.

“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. I didn’t kill her, man.”

“Kill who?” Alex asked casually as he lifted the steaming cup to his mouth. He took a drink, not minding the hot temperature. “I don’t recall accusing you of murder, Joe.”

Under normal circumstances, Alex would have addressed Joe by his surname. Given that the man forced Alex to chase him down through town, across an open field, and into someone’s front yard, he wasn’t in that good of a mood. Add to that the pain in his jaw, and he would go so far as to say he was very irritable.

It was evident that Alex’s response had caught Joe off guard.

“Seriously?” Joe glanced from Alex to the door and then back again. It was as if he were expecting two large officers to come barging into the room to cart his ass off to jail. When Alex continued to drink his coffee as if he had all the time in the world, Joe eventually emitted a sigh of relief. “Shit. I thought this was about…never mind. Forget I said anything. I overreacted, man. I didn’t mean anything by it. Running from you, I mean. Mind taking these cuffs off?”

“You worked at Birdie’s Auto in Fallbrook last year,” Alex pointed out, not addressing the handcuffs.

“Is that what this is about?” Joe not only smiled, but he began to reveal a lot of information that Alex would pass on to the management of said dealership. “You can’t prove anything. I allegedly got some from some customers. So what? Like I said, no one can prove it, and I can think of at least three other salespeople who take kickbacks all the time. I’ll give you names, if you want.”

“Allegedly?”

“Yeah, allegedly.” Joe shifted in his chair. “A customer mentioned something in front of our finance people, but she misunderstood the deal that I made with the customer. One thing led to another, and she had more clout than I did at the place. I was let go. I harbor no hard feelings, though.”

“Is that right?” Alex kept ahold of his coffee cup as he studied Joe. The guy wasn’t too bright. “So, can you sit there and honestly tell me you make just as much from that dingy car dealership as the one in Fallbrook?”

“Well, not quite,” Joe admitted, but he was back to flashing the smile he used to deceive customers. “But the perks of the job make up for it.”

“Let’s walk this conversation back to when you claimed you hadn’t killed anyone. Who exactly were you talking about?”

“It was nothing. Really. I—”

“Joe, you can’t just blurt out to a detective that you didn’t kill a woman. You did refer to the person in question as a her , correct?”

“Look, I saw on the news that Rachel Hanson was killed in some barn last week.” Joe visibly swallowed and laced his fingers together on the table. “Considering she was the one who got me fired, I assumed you thought that maybe I had something to do with it. I didn’t. You should know that upfront. Are we being recorded?”

“You didn’t want revenge? You mentioned kickbacks. Just how much money are we talking about?”

Joe was beginning to catch on, and he cracked his knuckles to ease his anxiety. If he answered the question, he was all but giving a signed confession. If he didn’t answer, no doubt he thought it make him appear guilty to the police.

“There is no proof that I was taking kickbacks during my employment in Fallbrook.”

“The truth of the matter, Joe, is that I’m not here because of some kickback.” Alex set his coffee down far enough away so he could lean forward on the table with his forearms. “I’m here because I do believe you harbored resentment against Rachel Hanson. Did you kill her?”

Joe jerked back in his chair.

“I think you saw an opportunity to make Rachel pay for getting you fired,” Alex pressed, never once breaking his stare with Joe. “You followed Rachel on her way back to Fallbrook. Waited for the perfect time to force her car off the road. You then hunted her down through the woods to an isolated barn in the middle of nowhere. Did you plan to kill her? Or did you just snap? When did you realize that you could stage it like the murders committed by Calvin Gantz?”

“I didn’t—”

“Just admit it, Joe. You pulled out a knife, and you slit her throat.”

By the time Alex had finished painting a vivid picture, Joe had lost all color in his face. His forthcoming denial was vehement, and the desperate plea seemed genuine.

“You have to believe me! I didn’t chase her, I didn’t hunt her, and I sure as hell didn’t kill her. I didn’t. I swear on my mother’s grave,” Joe yelled as he banged on the table. The handcuffs rattled as he pressed the bases of his palms against his eyes. He drew in a ragged breath before composing himself. By the time he lowered his arms, Alex recognized the situation for what it was—he had pressed too hard. “I want a lawyer.”

“I’ll see to it that you have access to a phone.” Alex pushed back from the table, picking up his coffee all in one motion. He would toss a hook out before exiting the room, though there was no indication he would get a bite. “You give your lawyer an alibi, Joe. Once I’m given the details, I’ll be able to confirm or deny your story.”

Alex made it two steps before Joe took the bait.

“An alibi? I have an—”

“You already lawyered up, Joe. Too late.” Alex shrugged, implying that it wasn’t his problem to deal with now. “Come to think of it, I haven’t had a need for a lawyer myself in a very long time. What is the going rate for a good defense attorney these days? Got to be at least three hundred dollars an hour, right?”

“I don’t need a lawyer. I take it back,” Joe blurted out, the pitch of his voice filled with eagerness. “I have an alibi. You can check it out for yourself.”

Alex made it seem as if he was mulling over the offer.

“Look, I heard on the news that Rachel was killed last Wednesday night. Is that right?” Joe spread his hands out as far as the cuffs would allow. “I was with a woman the whole time. Sandy. Cindy. Wait…Mindy! Her name was Mindy.”

“Mindy…” Alex drew out the woman’s name, hoping that Joe would provide her surname. Unfortunately, he couldn’t supply the information. “You slept with a woman named Mindy, but you don’t know her last name? Where did you meet her?”

Joe closed his hands until his fingers were tight against his palms. It didn’t take long for Alex to get a whiff of the direction this discussion was headed.

“Are you telling me that you sold her a car?”

“Her name is in our database,” Joe fessed up as he sat a little straighter. “She bought the car the following day. Take me back to the dealership, and I’ll get her name and number for you. She’ll—”

Alex tossed the rest of his coffee in the tall garbage can by the door. He reached for the handle, not surprised when Cider talked so fast that it was as if his words were strung together as one.

“Joe, you aren’t going anywhere.”

“You can confirm my alibi, though! I was with that woman all night. Just ask her, and—”

“You aren’t being arrested for Rachel Hanson’s murder, Joe.”

“I’m not?” Joe leaned his head back and let out a moan of relief. “Oh, my God! Thank you. Thank you so—”

“You’re under arrest for assaulting a police officer.” Alex motioned for the officer standing not ten feet away in the hallway to enter the room. “Take Mr. Cider to booking.”