Chapter Twenty-two
As Max pulled away, I dialed Paul. I could have called Paul while I was still with Max, well maybe not in the last five minutes. After our conversation, I’m sure he wouldn’t have had an issue with it, but those few hours I spent every day with Max were just that – my few hours with him. Paul answered on the second ring, “He must be off to work if you are permitted to talk to me now.”
“Well, hello, I’m doing fine, how was your day?” A part of me felt like hitting the END button. I had finally gotten Max to the point that he didn’t give me a hard time for helping Paul, now I had Paul all offended that I didn’t want him encroaching on my time with Max. It’s like I couldn’t win.
“Oh, you know, more of the same. Someone threw eggs at my grandmother’s garage door, I went out front to get the paper today and found a strategically placed pile of dog crap. I guess I could be thankful that no one threw a brick through my window, right?” The edge in his voice was clear; this couldn’t keep up much longer.
“So when can we get this timeline to the cops? I spent a few hours putting it together. I tried to remember as much as I could about the whole route and even remember seeing a car accident near Chambers and Fifth, as well as a window washer on the fourth floor of the Bank of America building. I mapped out the entire route and think you’re right: if the police decide to prove that I wasn’t at the crime scene, I would have had to drive by some security cameras. Mr. McMasters’ Porsche stands out a little; it’s not like a Honda on the road.” The edginess was still there, but at least it sounded like he was channeling it a little better.
“Hold on, let me call Keith from the house phone. Don’t hang up, okay?”
“Okay.”
I put the cell phone on one ear while I dialed Officer Johnson’s phone number and put the house phone to my other ear. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to write anything down or have both of them talking to me at once. Keith answered right away. “Officer Johnson? It’s Lauren, from the mall.”
“Hi, Lauren, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine, but you know I only call you when I need to ask for a favor, right?”
“Oh brother, I can hardly wait…Paul made bail so I’m of no use to you.”
“Are you still investigating the McMasters’ murders, not the police as a whole, but you specifically?”
“I’m on the task force, so I’m not the only one, but yes that’s my primary duty. Lauren, you know I can’t discuss an open investigation with a civilian.”
“Oh, I know, and don’t worry, I’m not offended. I did want to ask you about who would be the best person to turn alibi evidence into, on Paul’s behalf?”
“What kind of alibi evidence?”
I wasn’t sure how to broach it. The last thing I wanted Keith to think was that I believed his investigative skills to be inept. I knew he was sharp, but I also knew he couldn’t possibly be looking at other suspects if he believed he’d already caught the guilty person.
“I’m sure I never told you, but I am a Law and Order fanatic. One of the things that the police always do on the show is to rule out suspects based on any evidence they discover. Paul wrote out his timeline from Sunday morning to include the route that he drove. I thought that the police could look at the route and bounce his timeline off of security cameras, you know like at intersections and businesses that he passed. Then you would know exactly where he was at various times.”
“Sure, if he’s ready to cooperate, I’d be happy to look at his alibi evidence. Is this something you have?”
“No, but I could have it in about thirty minutes.”
“Do you want me to come to your house to pick it up?”
Paul must have heard Keith’s offer because he nearly shouted at me, “No, tell him we can come to the police station so I can give a formal statement at the same time.”
“Keith, hold on just a second,” I hit the mute button on the house phone, then quickly asked Paul, “Are you sure? You haven’t even talked to your lawyer yet. I thought you weren’t supposed to give statements without a lawyer if you’ve been charged with a crime?”
“That’s if you’re guilty.”
“You didn’t give them a statement last time?”
“No, I was too freaked out! They’d just told me Mr. and Mrs. McMasters had been killed. I didn’t know what to say then. They were only interested in me telling them how I’d committed the murders, so I decided not to say anything. Now’s the right time, so tell him we want to meet him there.”
I un-muted the house phone and put it on speaker. This way Paul could hear Keith, “Keith, you didn’t hang up, right?”
“No, I’m still here.”
“Paul and I want to come to the police station, if that’s okay?”
“You mean Paul is ready to cooperate?”
“I don’t think he was ever unwilling to cooperate. He was just freaked out that everyone thought he’d committed the murders. He has a timeline that he wants to share with you that should prove that he wasn’t involved, but I think for moral support he’d like me there.”
“Uh, okay, sure. When do you two want to come in?”
Paul shouted, “Now!” in my ear.
I winced but was able to keep my voice steady for Keith. “We could be there in thirty minutes if that’s okay?”
“Okay, we’ll be looking for you. Just come to the information desk and ask for me.”
I hung up with Keith. Paul said, “I’ll be at your house in five minutes.” Nearly thirty minutes to the second of when I hung up the phone with Keith, Paul and I were walking up the steps to the police station. Keith met us in what looked like a regular conference room, no long mirror that resembled two-sided glass, just a regular conference room that you might see anywhere. There were no pictures on the walls, only a projector that didn’t project anything and a fake plant that even when it was new couldn’t have looked like a real plant.
Keith started with, “Paul you’ve already been Mirandized. It’s important for you to understand that our meeting today will be recorded. You have waived your right to have your attorney present, is that correct?”
Paul and I were seated right next to one another with Keith on the other side of the conference table. I leaned over to Paul, took his hand in mine, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He glanced at me briefly, and, if he was at all capable of reading minds, he could hear me telling him everything was going to be fine.
Paul blurted out, “Yeah, I know my rights and I know that I can have a lawyer present. Can we get on with this?”
“Go ahead, Paul. What information do you have that will aid in the McMasters’ investigation?”
Paul handed Keith a typed three page letter of his exact route that Sunday morning. Each entry on the three pages included a column for time, location, activity. I had briefly reviewed the pages while we were in the car and had been impressed with his level of detail. Keith’s expression turned from disdain to interest as he read through all three pages slowly. He stepped out to make a copy of the papers. When he came back in, he handed two copies across the table, one for both Paul and me.
“Okay, let’s take this from the top. At 8:45 you left the McMasters’ residence. That seems a little early for a Sunday visit?”
“I live just down the street from the McMasters. Mr. McMasters was in his front yard watering his flower boxes. I waved to him, and he motioned me to come over. We talked for about 20-30 minutes; he was always really interested in how I was doing. He asked me about school, classes, my friends. He knew more about me than my own mom did. My mom and Mr. McMasters worked together.”
“I get it, you were close. But how did you go from watching him water his flowers to taking off in his car? You have to admit that seems like a bit of a stretch, right?”
“He was a very giving person; he knew I loved his ca
r. I washed it for him nearly every weekend, and anytime it needed to go in for service he’d let me drop it off and pick it up. That day we’d been talking about,” Paul looked embarrassed, “…my not having a girl to take to a party the next weekend. He tossed me his keys. He told me to go cruise around, that it was a chick magnet. Those were his words, not mine, and he was sure I could get a date by lunch.”
“Hmmm, where does a young man find a girl on a Sunday morning to show off to anyway?”
Paul rolled his eyes and remarked, “Funny…that’s the same thing I was asking myself. I ended up at the mall, but nothing opens ‘til noon. Rather than drive around in circles, I decided to sit in the food court and wait for the stores to open.” He gave a heavy sigh and continued, “That was when I noticed Rachael and Lauren. Rachael and I struck up a conversation and had an instant connection. Lauren,” he paused for a second then looked at me cautiously, “was less than impressed with me. But Rachael seemed really into me, so I asked her if she wanted to go see my car. You have to understand that I’m not all that smooth and had no idea what to say to her.”
Keith didn’t say anything, so Paul continued, “You’ve seen her, it’s not like she’s hard to look at or anything, and I was worried I was going to say something stupid if we sat inside. Mr. McMasters seemed really sure that I wouldn’t have any problems getting a date if I just showed a girl his car. I didn’t know what was going on when the police came up to me and patted me down for weapons. I thought I was being punked.”
I could see the strain on Paul’s face. This was an explanation he should have given on Sunday. “When you asked me about Mr. McMasters and told me he had been murdered, I just kind of shut down. You would understand if you knew him. He was the greatest guy, not a mean bone in his whole body. I don’t know why anyone would want to kill him. He would give the shirt off of his back if he thought someone needed it.”
Keith cleared his throat, “When you left the McMasters’ residence, did you see anything out of the ordinary?”
“No, nothing. I pulled out of the driveway, and Mr. McMasters just waved with one hand and had his garden hose in the other.”
“Was it like Mr. McMasters to do yard work on the weekend?”
Paul looked puzzled for a second, then slowly, “No, come to think of it, I don’t think I ever saw him do yard work. They had a lawn service and a sprinkler system. When I was younger, I used to cut lawns in the neighborhood, but never theirs.”
“How long did you and Mr. McMasters speak before you drove away?”
“I guess about twenty minutes - not really long. It was too early for any sporting events; sometimes he watched NASCAR on Sunday afternoons.”
“Did you hear anything peculiar? Either in the neighborhood or from inside the house?”
Paul waited a long minute, “Mrs. McMasters was in the house. I did hear her say ‘What, John?’ but Mr. McMasters was outside, and he hadn’t said anything to her. He just shouted through the window ‘I’m outside, Rose,’ but she didn’t come out or say anything.”
“Did he seem concerned?”
“No, he went in the house to grab his car keys a couple minutes later, but they were usually on a hook by the front door. He wasn’t in the house long enough to talk to her.”
“Paul, I’m not sure why you didn’t tell us any of this when we brought you in for questioning. If the timeline and route checks out, we should be able to clear you as a suspect.”
Paul had a forlorn look, and he finally asked, “So, why would anyone want to hurt them?” Keith shook his head and pursed his lips.
Paul and I left the police station. It was getting late when we walked to his car on the nearly deserted street. We chatted absently about everything but the last two hours: where he and Rachael were going for dinner, how much he enjoyed staying with his grandmother, my summer plans. We were about halfway back to my house when he uttered, “I must be getting paranoid.” He made eye contact with me briefly, then followed with, “The same car has been behind us for the last five minutes. Do you think the police would be following me?”
I turned around to get a better look, only to see the car put on its turn signal and make a right hand turn down a street. I didn’t get a good look at the driver, but it was a dark grey sedan. It could have been an unmarked police car, but I couldn’t be sure.
“I think you’ve just had a stressful day and you’re exhausted. I can’t imagine why a police car would be following you. It’s not like they don’t know where you’re going. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.” It may have just been a coincidence, but those weird warning tingles shot through the hairs on my arm. As soon as I had turned around to get a better look, the car had sped up to get around a corner.
Great, now I’m getting paranoid. Paul and I talked about Rachael during the rest of the drive back to my house. He really was taken with her. I would have to call her and let her know that Paul was more excited about this weekend than she was.
When we pulled up outside my house, Paul confessed, “Lauren, I wish there were some way to tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done to help me.”
“You just did.”
“No really, when my own mom wouldn’t believe in me, you did. You found bail money for me, you told me what I needed to do to clear my name, and then you made the police listen to me. You’re like a force of nature.”
“Okay, Paul, that’s a little over-the-top. You’re innocent. If you weren’t, believe me, I’d know. I’ve got plans tomorrow with Max, so I’ll talk to you in a couple days. Good luck on your date with Rachael if I don’t see you before.”
Paul wore a strange expression, and it was odd that his mood seemed to change from grateful to something else. He reached for my hand, which felt clumsy and awkward. Paul looked nervous, “Lauren, I really don’t know what to make of you. There’s no logical explanation for you to believe in me, let alone help me.”
Warning bells went off in my head telling me to get out of the car. Paul had wrongly interpreted my help as some sort of an invitation for something more – I could see it on his face. I tried to free my hand in as covert a way as possible, but Paul held on a second longer.
“I just wanted to help. I don’t have any ulterior motives, other than maybe seeing my friend Rachael happy.” It worked. My mention of Rachael made him release his hold on me, so I was able to make my exit quickly. My mind quickly shot back to taking his hand in the conference room, trying to comfort him. He must have taken my support to be an invitation of some kind. This was awkward, and I’m rarely taken by surprise.
You would think with all our conversation about his plans with Rachael, he wouldn’t have confused the support for anything else. I was wrong. I was out of the car, up the sidewalk and into the house before I took a breath. Unwilling to believe that had been anything more than misplaced gratitude, I pushed the incident to the back of my mind, and filed it away, never to be thought of again.