The Ties That Bind (Sarah Woods Mystery Book 11) Page 4

  “No idea. They never told me nuthin about what they did to her or why.”

  “Is there any other family around? Cousins? Aunts or uncles? Who did the boys live with while you were in prison?”

  “My sister, Helen.” Frank swatted at a fly buzzing around his head. “She moved to Nebraska a few years ago.”

  “Assuming the boys were hired to kill Nina, who would they have given money to?” Carter asked.

  “Believe me, there’s no money. The boys wouldn’t have trusted anyone with it besides me.”

  “Were did the boys hang out when they weren’t in school?”

  “School?” Frank snorted. “They both dropped out their junior year.”

  “Then what did they do all day long? Just hang out at home? I find that hard to believe.”

  “They’d go to the mall sometimes and watch the girls, but that stopped after they got caught stealing. Those mall cops wouldn’t let them back.”

  Carter breathed out with measured patience. “Okay, where else?”

  “Sometimes they’d hang out at Buster’s Comic Books. It’s a few miles down the road from here. Other than that, I have no idea what they did all day long.”

  Carter waited a beat before finally backing up a few steps. “Mr. Perez, thanks for your time. I’m sure that fifty I gave you will more than cover the cost of a new lock for the door.”

  Frank shrugged. “Who needs a lock anyway? Nothing here anyone wants to steal.”

  Amen to that, I thought to myself.

  Chapter 7

  When we left Frank’s apartment, I took a deep breath of fresh air, but I felt like I needed to take a shower. The imaginary bugs were crawling up my arms and I couldn’t shake the queasiness. “Can I just say, he is the most disgusting man I’ve ever met? How can he live like that?”

  Carter laughed when he saw the expression on my face. “No kidding. I think I saw a rat scuttle across the living room floor. Maybe it was his pet.”

  Afraid I might hurl, I said, “I am so glad I didn’t see that. Promise me we never have to go back there.”

  “I don’t think he has any money. If the boys had left a stash with him, he wouldn’t be drinking that cheap whisky I saw on the counter.”

  Back in the Buick, Carter briefly scribbled down some notes. “Let’s go check out that comic book store and see if the owner is around. According to Frank, the boys spent a lot of time there. Give me a second to look up the name registered to the business.”

  Buster’s Comic’s was sandwiched between a hair salon, called Lizzy’s Locks, and the Harwich diner. Since the comic book store didn’t open for another twenty minutes, we decided to go into the diner and have a cup of coffee while we waited.

  There were several stools open at the counter and the waitress, a cute young girl, poured us two mugs. The diner was trying to emulate the 50’s retro diner look, but the attempt fell short. More like a sad medley of garage sale cheap reproduction memorabilia. The waitresses wore pink frilly aprons that were stained and tattered, but the mugs were clean and the coffee was hot.

  “I was thinking.” Carter leaned into me and kept his voice low. “We should see if Perry has any jealous ex-girlfriends. Maybe one of them didn’t like the fact that Perry was going to settle down and have a baby.”

  “It’s worth looking into.”

  We finished our coffees and headed next door. Buster’s Comic Books was still closed at ten past eleven.

  “Maybe the owner doesn’t have enough business to keep regular hours,” I said. “Either that, or he’s out back smoking a joint and lost track of time.”

  Carter cupped his hands on the window and tried to peer inside but most of the window was covered up with comic book covers. “I think I see someone in there. He’s talking on his cell phone. Maybe he’ll come unlock the door when he’s done.”

  Another five minutes passed. Finally, Carter knocked on the glass door. Seconds later, the door opened, a man in his late twenties let us inside. He seemed irritated. “We’re not open yet.”

  The man was wearing skin tight black jeans, Converse sneakers and a black tank top showing the intricate tattoos on his arms. His jet black hair looked like a bad dye job. A small silver ring protruded out of his nose.

  “Are you Jason Black?” Carter asked him.

  “Yeah, why?” He looked us both up and down with a smirk. “You folks aren’t interested in buying comic books, are you?”

  “If you have a minute, we’d like to talk to you about Reggie and Rory Perez. Their father told us they used to hang out here.”

  His smile faded. “The two boys who murdered that girl?”

  “Yes.” Carter waved a hand around. “Nice shop, by the way.”

  Looking around at all the racks of comic books, I wondered how many he’d have to sell a day to stay in business. It seemed like a miracle that the place hadn’t already shut down, like so many other mom and pop establishments in the town.

  Jason licked his lips nervously. “I didn’t know those kids very well. I mean, they came in a few times a week, but they kept to themselves mostly.”

  “What kind of comics were they interested in?” Carter asked.

  He shrugged. “They never actually bought anything.”

  “They just came in here, read the comic books like this is some kind of library?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Pretty much.”

  “And you never called them out on it? Never asked them to make a purchase?”

  Jason swallowed. “Are you guys cops or something?”

  I showed him my private eye license and also Nina’s picture. “Did Nina Chapman ever come in here?” I asked. “She’s the girl who was killed.”

  His eyebrows furrowed. “No, I don’t remember seeing her. We don’t get a lot of girls coming into the shop.”

  I kept the photo in plain sight, but he averted his eyes. I wondered why he felt uncomfortable seeing her picture. “Did you ever hear the Perez boys mention her name?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, which seemed impossible since his jeans were so tight.

  “When was the last time the boys came in here?” Carter asked.

  “I don’t remember. They’ve been in jail, like three months or something. Didn’t they confess to doing it?”

  “Sure,” Carter said. “We think someone might have paid them to kill her.”

  Jason blinked. “Serious?”

  “Anything you can think of that could help us would really be appreciated.”

  He raised his hands. “I don’t know anything about that. Honest.”

  Carter scanned the store with interest. “Who else works here?”

  Jason shrugged. “Just me. Can’t afford to have employees.” By the twitchy look on Jason’s face, I could tell we had worn out our welcome. Since there were no customers in the shop, however, I didn’t feel the need to rush out. I had to believe Jason must have been doing something illegal on the side to stay afloat.

  Carter smiled in a friendly manner and said, “Well, Jason, thanks for talking to us. We’ll let you get back to work.”

  Chapter 8

  When we left Buster’s Comics, we drove the car around the block and parked on the street in the rear of the strip mall.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked.

  “We’re going to wait here for a while. I have a hunch that Jason is lying to us.”

  “Lying about what?”

  “He’s got some kind of side business going on and I’d like to find out what it is.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I was thinking the same exact thing.”

  After an hour of waiting and watching, not one single customer waltzed into the comic store. “Are we gonna stay here all day? I need some food pretty soon. Plus I have to use the bathroom.”

  “Why don’t you go back to the diner and grab us some sandwiches and use the bathroom.” He reached into his wallet and handed me a twenty dollar bill. “I’ll wait here.”
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  After relieving my bladder, I inspected the lunch menu and decided to order two of the sandwich specials; corned beef on rye with melted Swiss cheese. While I waited, I stood by the window and glanced over to the comic store. Still no cars parked outside. But the hair salon next door was a different story. There were three cars parked in front and, through the window, I could see several women inside getting their hair done. That gave me an idea.

  Once I had the sandwiches, I walked over to Lizzy’s Locks and went inside. A young woman at the counter had blonde hair but the very ends were dyed neon pink. I figured it must be a new fad in hairstyles for young women although I couldn’t remember seeing anyone else with this kind of “do”.

  The young woman greeted me with a friendly, high-pitched voice that reminded me of a musketeer. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No. I’m just in town for a few days for work.” I reached into my bag for the picture of Nina. “Does this girl look familiar to you? Maybe she came in to have her hair done? This would have been over four months ago.”

  Pink tips covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God. That’s the girl who was murdered. Her picture was all over the newspapers when it happened. I forget her name.”

  “Nina Chapman. Was she a client here?” I repeated.

  “No. She never came in here. At least not when I was here. The other stylists would have mentioned something after the news showed her face.”

  “Would you be able to double check for me?” I said, pointing to the computer on the counter. “Just to cover all bases.”

  She started typing away on the keyboard and within a few seconds, she was shaking her head. “Sorry. Nina Chapman is not in our system.”

  “Okay, well thanks for checking anyway.” I made a show of looking around. “I could use a haircut. Do you have any appointments open later today?”

  “I don’t but Gretchen will be in soon. Looks like she has a few openings. Can I put you down?”

  I checked my watch. “I’ll come back. Thank you.”

  When I got back to the Buick, Carter seemed a bit worried. “What took you so long?”

  “I decided to pop into the hair salon and ask one of the girls about Nina. I figured the Perez boys might have seen her coming or going while they were at the comic store.”

  “Good call. What did you find out?”

  “The woman looked her up in the system, but her name didn’t appear as a customer. How about you? Did you find out more about Jason?”

  “I found an online article from the local newspaper from 2010 when the Comic Store first opened. Jason Fox has no priors. He’s twenty-seven years old and his last known address is only a few miles from here. Looks like he’s lived in this town his whole life. Past that I have no idea who his family is or if he has any siblings. He’s not on any social media which is odd for a young guy in his twenties.”

  We munched on our sandwiches while keeping an eye on the comic store. Still not a single soul came or went in the hour and a half we’d been watching the place.

  “Let’s assume that Jason is using the store as a front for selling drugs or some other seedy enterprise,” I said. “Is it worth our time to look into it? The Perez brothers may not have been involved and, even if they were, does that have anything to do with Nina or Perry?”

  Carter sighed with frustration. “No, I guess not.”

  “Why don’t I make an appointment to have my hair done? Maybe I can gossip with the stylist. I bet she’ll have some ideas of what’s really going on at Buster’s Comics. She might even know Jason.”

  “Great idea. Maybe I’ll go back and sit in the diner and chat up the waitress. Perhaps she’ll offer something, too.”

  When I went back to Lizzy’s Locks, I inquired about the next available appointment for a hair trim.

  Chapter 9

  There were only two hairstylists: pink tips and another woman who seemed even younger, with jet black hair and an overabundance of black eye-liner. I observed both of them as I sat in the waiting area pretending to read a magazine. When the black haired woman’s client left, she approached me and introduced herself as Gretchen.

  She fondled my hair with appreciation. “You have beautiful hair. I hope you don’t want to chop it all off.”

  “No.” I said. “I just need a trim. I usually do it myself but my husband suggested I have a professional tidy it up.” It felt weird to refer to Carter as my husband.

  “Follow me,” Gretchen said. “Would you like a shampoo?”

  I agreed since the more time I had here the better. I decided to wait a few minutes until I started asking questions about Buster’s next door.

  It had been so long since I had a stylist do anything to my hair because I hate wasting time in salons. I prefer to buy the boxed color and do it myself. I’m sure it doesn’t come out as nicely as the professional stuff but it saves me a small fortune. Since I wear my hair long, it’s not a hassle to trim it myself every few months.

  I had forgotten how nice it was to have someone massage my scalp. I closed my eyes and, for a minute, tried to forget everything and relish the moment. As she rinsed the shampoo out, I floated back to reality.

  After the shampoo and conditioning treatment, Gretchen escorted me to a chair and adjusted the black cape I was given to wear. As she tackled the task of combing my sopping wet hair, she made idle chit-chat with the generic questions all hairdressers feel obligated to ask. Where was I from? How long would I be in town? What did I do for work?

  I told her I was in the security business and left it at that. It was time to start asking the questions.

  “So, Gretchen. How long have you worked here?”

  She began working on a knot and my eyes began to water with pain. She obviously hadn’t been working in hair very long or she would have learned a few basic rules; don’t make the clients cry. “Almost a year,” she said. “I love working here.”

  “In a down economy you must be proud to have work. Who owns the place?”

  She nodded her head toward pink tips. “Gina has had this place for years. Her folks own the building. She’s an amazing artist.”

  “Oh really? What kind of art?”

  Gretchen gave me a funny smile. “Hair styling, of course.”

  “Right,” I said as if I should’ve known. I guess nowadays picking a wedgie can also be considered an art form. “Just out of curiosity, what’s up with the comic book place next door? Does he get any business?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, that place? The guy is a bit of a freak.”

  “Please,” I said, trying not to appear too eager. “Do tell.”

  She grabbed a pair of scissors and began snipping. “I’ve met Jason a few times over at the diner. He’s not very friendly so I just ignore him. I think he actually lives in the store. His car is always here. I came by one morning around seven because I have a client who likes to come early. Jason’s blue Honda was here. Since his shop doesn’t open till eleven, I just assumed he’d spent the night or something.”

  “I don’t mean to get onto a morbid subject, but you must remember that girl who was murdered about three months ago, Nina Chapman.”

  “Of course I remember. That was horrible.”

  “Well, apparently the two boys who killed her used to go into Buster’s all the time.”

  She stopped mid cut and stared at me in the mirror. “Really? Who told you that?”

  “I know the girl’s mom, so I’m very familiar with the case.” I waited a few beats before asking, “Had you ever met Nina?”

  “Nope, never did.” She went back to snipping at my split ends. “So how do you know the mother? Is she a close friend of yours?”

  I decided to level with her. “She hired me to look into some things. There are still a lot of unanswered questions about what happened.”

  “I heard that one of the boys died in prison. Was he shanked?”

  “No. He got some kind of infection. Or at least, that’s what they’re saying.�
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  Gretchen shook her head in disgust. “Serves him right. He doesn’t deserve to live after what he did to the girl.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  The topic of Nina faded away and Gretchen started talking about her boyfriend. She talked so fast, she lost track of how much hair was being cut off. I didn’t want to be rude but I finally had to put my hand up to stop her. When she realized what she had done, a look of horror flashed in her eyes. “Oh my, I got a little carried away, didn’t I?”

  I estimated at least two inches had been removed, an inch and a half more than I’d wanted. “It’s okay,” I said. “It’s only hair. I’m pretty sure it will grow back.”

  When I left Lizzy’s Locks, I felt a little lighter on my feet and decided the shorter haircut was flattering. Carter seemed to think so as well.

  He smiled when I walked into the diner and joined him at the counter.

  “Look at you.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “Nicely done.”

  “Thanks. Unfortunately my hairstylist couldn’t tell me much about Jason but she has seen his car there early in the morning. He might be living there in the shop.”

  “Well, the staff around d here won’t tell me much, either. The diner is only open for breakfast and lunch. Everyone is gone by five o’clock every day.”

  I glanced down at the plate in front of him, detecting the remnants of some kind of dessert. “Did you just have a slice of pie?”

  “Well, I had to do something while you were getting pampered. I can order you a slice if you want.”

  “Maybe we should just head back to the Inn. We promised Perry we’d stop by for a drink.”

  “Okay, but I think we should come back after dark and see what Jason is up to. With any luck, we might be able to catch him doing something illegal. I think he knows more about the Perez boys than he’s letting on.”

  Chapter 10

  By the time we got back to the Silver Beech Inn it was almost four o’clock. Just in time for happy hour. Perry offered us a friendly nod as we entered the bar.