I've Got My Eyes on You(56)
She shook Valerie’s shoulder and flipped her over onto her back as she called her name. She did not stir.
Marina looked down at her. She was very pale and her lips were blue. Her breathing was shallow.
“Oh, my God no!” she screamed as she grabbed the phone and dialed 911.
69
Fran and Steve left for Bermuda before lunch on Friday morning. They had decided to extend their trip to a full week. Aline was glad that her mother agreed to the extension. She could see that Fran was getting more and more depressed and desperately needed to get away.
When she returned home from work on Friday, she remembered to bring in the mail. She stopped at the box at the end of the driveway, pulled it out and dropped it on the kitchen table. An envelope addressed to Ms. Kerry Dowling caught her eye. It was from MasterCard.
Aline remembered her parents giving her a credit card just before she had left for college. “For emergencies only,” her father had said with a smile, knowing his idea of what constituted an emergency would differ from hers. They must have done the same for Kerry.
Ordinarily she would have left the envelope for them. With her parents away, she decided to open it.
There were only two entries on the bill. ETD, a tire service center. That had to have been the new tire Dad had told Kerry to get, Aline thought.
The second entry was for Coach House, a diner in Hackensack. The charge was $22.79. That’s odd, Aline thought. There are diners in Waldwick and Park Ridge, both a lot closer to Saddle River. Why did Kerry go all the way to Hackensack?
When she looked at the date Kerry had gone to the diner, her eyes widened. It was August 25, the day of her party, the day she had been murdered.
Aline pulled out her cell phone and opened her text messages file. The text about something “VERY IMPORTANT” was sent to her at 11:02 A.M. on the same day.
She looked at the bill again. Almost twenty-three dollars is a lot for one person. Kerry might have met somebody for breakfast and picked up the check. Shortly thereafter, she sent me the text. Could there be a connection?
Kerry went to the diner on a Saturday morning. Tomorrow is Saturday. Odds are the same waitstaff will be there, including whoever waited on Kerry.
Who could she have met? Maybe it was Alan. Or if it was one of Kerry’s girlfriends, maybe one of the girls on the lacrosse team, I want to talk to her.
Aline went to her computer. She opened Kerry’s Facebook page and began to print some of the photos.
This might be a waste of time, she thought, but it could be important to know what Kerry was doing the last day she was alive.
The thought that she might have a chance to discover what was very important kept Aline up most of the night.
At quarter past eight she got up, showered and dressed. By eight-forty-five she was in her car headed toward the Coach House. She had skipped her usual light breakfast and coffee. They might be more talkative if I have breakfast there.
She was happy to see that there were only a handful of cars in the parking lot. Two waiters were serving those eating at the counter. Aline looked around. If Kerry was having a private conversation with somebody, she would have chosen a table for two as far away from the other diners as possible. Probably one of the tables to the right or to the left that are up against the windows.
The man behind the register asked, “How many in your party?”
“Just one,” she said. “I’d like a table over by the window.”
“Sure,” he said. “Sit anywhere you want.”
A minute after she was seated, a waitress came over carrying a menu. “Can I start you with coffee, honey?”
“Absolutely.”
Kerry opened the folder that contained the pictures she had printed.
When the waitress returned with the coffee, Aline said, “Obviously you work on Saturdays. Were you working on Saturday, August 25, in the morning?”
The waitress considered. “Let me see. That was three weeks ago. Yes, I was back from vacation. I worked that Saturday.”
“My sister ate here that Saturday morning. She met somebody for breakfast. I’m trying to find out who she met. Would you mind looking at some pictures?”
“Sure,” she said.
Aline spread several pictures on the table. “That girl,” the waitress said, “looks real familiar. I know I’ve seen her.” She was pointing at Kerry.
“That’s my sister,” Aline said.
“Oh my God,” the waitress gasped. “Is she the poor girl who got murdered in the pool?”
“I’m afraid so,” Aline said quietly.
“I waited on them that day. They sat at the same table you’re sittin’ at right now.”
The waitress leaned over and stared at one picture after another. She then studied the photo of the lacrosse team and pointed her finger. “That’s her. That’s the one who was crying.”
She was pointing at Valerie.
70
Marge was surprised when the phone rang as she was clearing the breakfast dishes. It was Gus Schreiber, Jamie’s manager at Acme.
Puzzled as to why he was calling, she immediately said, “Oh, Mr. Schreiber, you have been so nice to Jamie. He loves working for you. I don’t know what he would do if he didn’t have his job at the Acme.”