Chapter Eighteen
Half an hour later, a line of black-and-white Kennett Square police cruisers parked out front of Aunt Barb’s house, their light bars flashing silently. Wooden sawhorses cordoned off her aunt’s section of the street, and a few neighbors stood outside the perimeter, drawn by the unaccustomed activity in this quiet section of town. Uniformed police officers searched Aunt Barb’s house, as well as her garage, backyard, and the environs, carrying long-handled Maglites that flashed jittery cones of high-intensity light over the heirloom roses and privet hedges.
Officers Hoffman and Ramirez flanked the front door, and Detective Boone sat on the couch opposite Judy, Mary, and Aunt Barb, taking notes in a skinny pad. Judy’s mother bustled around, supplying everybody with mugs of coffee and freshening the ice in the Ziploc bag for Judy’s forehead, which had already stopped bleeding. She had a goose egg above her hairline, but it would be hidden in her hair, and even her aunt didn’t think she needed stitches.
Iris’s gardening chest sat in the middle of the living-room floor, its secret cash exposed while Judy explained how she’d discovered it to an astonished Aunt Barb, who slumped in a chintz wing chair, her hand covering her mouth almost the entire time. Judy felt terrible for her, having to deal with this shock the night before her operation.
“So Aunt Barb, you didn’t know anything about this money,” Judy stated the obvious for the record, in lawyer mode.
“Not a thing.” Her aunt shook her head, stricken.
“That’s what I thought.” Judy faced Detective Boone. “I want it absolutely clear that my aunt wasn’t involved in any way with whatever crimes Iris may have committed in connection with this money.”
“Understood.” Detective Boone blinked behind his wire-rimmed glasses, his pen over his notebook. “We’ve just begun our investigation, but at this point, I doubt the assistant district attorney would consider charging your aunt with anything.”
“Excellent.” Judy went into a mental at-ease, and Aunt Barb shot her a grateful, if shaky, smile. “How much cash do you think it is?”
“I would say $7,000 to $9,000.”
“I thought it was more.”
“I know, most people do. Money takes up a lot of space. It always looks like more than it actually is.” Detective Boone frowned slightly. “So, did you see who hit you?”
“No.”
“Did you get any description at all? Height, weight?”
“No, I don’t know.”
“Was it a big guy, a fat guy?”
“Biggish, I think. It was pitch black out there and it was so, well, unexpected.”
“White, black, Hispanic?”
“No idea. I feel sure that it was a guy, because I heard the grunt and it sounded deep.” Judy racked her brain for a description, but she just kept coming up empty. “It was a man, and as I said, I smelled beer.”
“Did he say anything? Call you a name or anything?”
“No.” Judy could have kicked herself. “I feel so dumb.”
“Don’t blame yourself. It’s frightening to be assaulted.”
“Do you know what he hit me with? Did they find anything where he hit me, like a rock?”
“No not yet, but they’ll keep looking. A punch can feel like a rock.”
“It wasn’t a hand. It was an object.” Judy had the random thought that it could have been a gun, but she wasn’t about to freak out her aunt and mother.
“Uniforms are canvassing the neighbors to ask if they saw anything suspicious, like anybody who doesn’t belong here or a car they didn’t recognize. You never know, we could get lucky.”
“Great.”
“And you didn’t see the second man, did you?”
“No, I made a deduction that there was a second man because the dog didn’t stay with me.” Judy scratched Penny’s side with her foot, since the dog was asleep on the rug beside her.
“Let me get this straight.” Detective Boone pursed his thin lips. “You found the cash in your aunt’s garage and nobody knew anything about it, is that what you’re telling me?”
“Exactly. Mary and I came out here tonight because we were worried that if somebody knew about the money, they might come after it, and evidently we were right.”
“That’s not necessarily true, as long as we’re talking about logic and deductions.” Detective Boone cocked his neat head of close-cut sandy hair. “We have had reports of a prowler in this area, and we don’t have any evidence to connect your assault to the cash in the garage.”
“Oh come on,” Judy said, skeptical. “It’s too coincidental, Detective. I spent one morning at church and could see that everybody knew Iris. It’s likely they could know more about her than we do. Obviously, there’s more to this situation than we thought.”
Mary chimed in, “Besides, if it’s a random prowler, why didn’t he just run? Why did he hit her?”
Detective Boone made a note. “She’s tall and strong. He had to prevent her from giving chase. He wasn’t taking any chances.”
Judy still wasn’t buying it, but she had a more urgent concern. “Look, right now, what’s worrying me is my aunt’s safety, and my mother’s. What can you do to protect them in the event that these guys come back?”
Aunt Barb shifted in her chair. “That’s what’s worrying me, too. I do have surgery tomorrow morning and I have to be at home, recovering. My sister is going to stay with me.”
Detective Boone looked from Aunt Barb to Judy’s mother, who was standing beside the wing chair. “Ladies, the police can patrol the neighborhood, but they can’t guarantee your safety. We don’t have the manpower. If it’s going to concern you, and I understand why it would, I suggest you stay in a hotel.”
Aunt Barb’s face fell. “A hotel? I won’t feel at home in a hotel, and it might be weeks.”
“You can stay with me, at my house,” Judy offered, meaning it. She’d love to have her aunt under her roof, and she’d find a way to tolerate her mother. The only problem was the fleas, but nobody had to know about that.
Her mother lifted an eyebrow. “We’ll stay in a hotel. We’ll be more comfortable.”
Judy tried not to feel hurt. “Mom, that’s not as homey, for Aunt Barb.” She turned to her aunt. “Aunt Barb, please stay with me. The hospital’s right in town, so it’s actually more convenient, and for your doctor’s appointments, too. And I’d be able to see you after work and help out. What do you say? You like the city.”
“Yes, but I hate to impose.” Aunt Barb smiled slowly, and Judy knew she was winning the battle.
“You wouldn’t be imposing at all. You and Mom can have my bed, which is a king, and I can sleep on the daybed in my office.”
“What about Frank?” Aunt Barb asked, and Judy felt a twinge, realizing she hadn’t even thought about her boyfriend, who shared her bed.
“He can stay at his grandfather’s in South Philly. He’s over there all the time.”
Suddenly a heavyset uniformed officer opened the front door. “Detective Boone?” he said, stepping inside the living room. “Uh, got a minute?”
“Not now.” Detective Boone gestured at Judy, frowning. “I’m taking a victim statement.”
“Captain said to let you know if we found anything in the garage, and we did.”
“What did you find?” Detective Boone turned to the cop, and Judy’s ears pricked up.
“Money.” The cop lumbered into the room. “In an old trunk in the corner, under some other stuff. About thirteen grand.”
“Oh my God!” Judy said, shocked.
“Oh no!” Aunt Barb moaned.
Judy’s mother pursed her lips in a knowing line. “This is awful, just awful.”
Detective Boone rose. “What did you do with it?”
“We left it where it was. Cap said to ask you.” The cop shrugged. “He said if the homeowner wants us to move it out, we will.”
Judy got up, turning to her aunt. “Aunt Barb, don’t you want them to bring it inside? We can’t leave it in the garage.”
Aunt Barb blinked. “It’s not mine. It’s Iris’s. I don’t know what to do with it. Put it in the bank?”
The cop grinned. “Give it to me, I know what to do with it.”
“I do, too!” Officer Ramirez said at the door, and next to him, Officer Hoffman slapped him five.
Judy’s mother asked the detective, “But isn’t it evidence?”
Judy suppressed an eye-roll. “Mom, it’s not evidence because there’s no crime.”
Her mother sniffed. “I asked the detective.”
Detective Boone shook his head. “Your daughter’s correct, Mrs. Carrier. I can’t say I’ve had this situation before. I’ll double-check with the A.D.A., but my sense is we’ll leave to you what to do with the money. It’s not police business.”
Judy looked at Mary. “I’m sure we can set up a trust account for Iris’s estate.”
Mary nodded. “Right, and in the meantime, we can put it in the firm’s safe.”
“The firm has a safe?” Judy asked, surprised. “Who knew that? Is that something you have to be a partner to know?”
“Yeah.” Mary chuckled. “Like the secret handshake.”
Suddenly there was a commotion from the policemen upstairs, who were coming down the staircase, the footsteps heavy. “Detective?” called the first cop, coming into view.
“What is it?” Detective Boone turned to the stairwell.
“You know that pink bedroom in the back?” The cop gestured to the back of the house, his dark eyes animated under the patent bill of his cap. “Well, we found more cash.”
Judy gasped, catching Mary’s incredulous eye. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s like a bank in there.” The first cop shook his head, marveling, and the one behind him nodded. “There’s money in shoeboxes in the closet and a cedar chest. Plus, on the far side of the bed, you can see where somebody cut the floorboards. I bet there’s money under the floor, but we didn’t go there. We only found it because the rug looked messed up on the far side.”
Detective Boone frowned with disapproval. “Officers, why were you looking in the cedar chest? That wasn’t your orders.”
“Sorry, but we played a hunch. We cleared it with the captain, so you can take it up with him.”
“What was the hunch?” Judy interjected, glossing over the awkward moment.
“We knew there was dough in the garage, and we figured that the motherload had to be in the house. If it were me, common sense, I’d hide money in the house first, then use the garage second, like, for the leftover. It’s safer.”
“You’re right.” Judy kicked herself for not thinking of it herself.
“What the hell?” Judy’s mother turned to Aunt Barb, who was sinking into the wing chair. “Barb, how can this happen? Did you just give that woman your guest bedroom?”
“Yes, totally. Why wouldn’t I?” Aunt Barb turned her palms up, in appeal. “She slept over whenever she took me for chemo. I told her to make herself comfortable in there, to consider my home, her home.”
Judy’s mother tsk-tsked. “But still, it’s your house. Didn’t you ever go in there? Didn’t you notice anything unusual?”
Judy interjected, “Mom, it’s not her fault.”
Aunt Barb held up a palm, signaling to Judy to stop. “Thanks honey, but I can explain.” She turned to Judy’s mother. “Delia, nobody else used that guest room for years, until Friday, when you came. You didn’t see anything unusual, did you?”
Judy’s mother flushed. “I’m hardly unpacked. But I bet I would have found the money, sooner rather than later.”
“Delia, I trusted her. She stayed over when she helped me, for nights in a row. I would never dream of going into her room and searching it, for heaven’s sake. I respected her privacy.”
Detective Boone glanced uncomfortably at his feet, which didn’t stop Judy’s mother. “But Barb, what about when you clean? Didn’t you see anything?”
Aunt Barb shook her head. “Iris did all the cleaning, every two weeks.”
Judy’s mother laughed, without mirth. “You’re too trusting, honey. That woman had a perfect plan. She had you all figured out. The only question is, how much more money did she hide in your house?”
“Mom, please, enough.” Judy met Mary’s eye, with a Meaningful Flare. “It looks like we have our work cut out for us. Time for a treasure hunt, eh, girl?”
“Let’s get busy,” Mary answered, with a grim smile.