Chapter 19: “I Never Liked Them”

“Come on, Phinn, tell me who you suspect,” Jake whined the next morning while he sat in the back seat on the way to Hardyhill Senior Living.

“Tell us,” Johanna corrected, emphasizing the second word. Driving, she glanced over at Phinn, who sat in the passenger seat.

“I’m not quite sure how you keep on butting in like this,” Phinn admitted, sighing at how the influencer kept on forcing her way into these meetings.

Sure, Johanna had provided solid help and information on this go-around, but Phineas didn’t want to make it a regular occurrence. Jake acted as if he were allergic to conflict with the influencer, always keeping his mouth shut when Phinn wanted his help in dealing with Johanna. I swear, either he’s afraid of getting set up on another date with Johanna, or her forceful personality reminds him too much of Tara.

For whatever reason, Jake didn’t utter a peep as their classmate listed all the reasons she deserved to be along for this meeting. The only thing Phinn agreed with came from her digging into the Miss Paddle pageant. Yet, he wouldn’t admit that. Instead, he shot Jake a withering look before interrupting her spiel.

“I think our next case will be The Secret of the Persistent Fame Seeker. Or The Case of the Ever-Present Bug,” Phinn suggested.

In the backseat, Jake chuckled until a side-eye glare from the driver quieted his laughter.

“How about The Fate of the Egotistical Pest?” Johanna shot back, balling her right hand into a fist while using it to gesture menacingly in the direction of the brainy detective.

“How about you practice safe driving and get us there in one piece?”

Silence followed Phinn and Johanna’s staredown at the red light. Then, feeling like the kid watching his parents argue, Jake brought up a different complaint. This one factored in with his original idea of performing a police lineup for the older women.

“I don’t get why I have to show Mrs. Strecker twelve pictures while you only wanted six for Mrs. Walcott. And why do the first six in my batch contain people who are clearly not Avery Voyce? They’re too young.”

“Precisely. Think about it for a moment in your frightened mind, Jake. Why would I knowingly tell you to show her pictures of people who can’t be our blackmailer?” Phinn prodded, thinking that his partner had been flummoxed ever since his strange hookup with Zoe Foster. Or had it started with the sighting of his ex-girlfriend at the fireworks?

“To…Oh! To test Mrs. Strecker. Sorry,” Jake replied sheepishly. Of course, it made sense as they wanted to see if she’d pick out anyone just to get revenge in her mind. They’d seen it before.

“Don’t apologize to him,” Johanna responded, turning around to point at the athlete. “Fight his mind tricks and abusive behavior.”

“Oh, please,” Phinn muttered.

“I wouldn’t call it abusive, but the mind tricks part is kinda—”

“Jake, don’t encourage her,” Phinn directed before sighing yet again. “Fine. I’m not revealing who I might suspect because I’m not sure of their complicity. All I have for my educated theory is a messy handwritten first name from Terry Tully’s notes and the purchase of a house a little over five years ago.”

Nearing the turn for the retirement community’s parking lot, Johanna’s phone buzzed with an incoming message. Picking up her phone, the self-absorbed influencer barely missed getting hit by an oncoming car as she made the turn abruptly while checking the message.

“Can you forget your fucking followers for a second to not get us killed?” Phinn challenged, bracing the side of the door at the sharp turn. Gawd, her everyday driving is more dangerous than Jake’s chase driving!

“If I’d done that, I wouldn’t have known that Veronica moved the meeting location,” Johanna revealed, shaking her phone for effect while veering wide left around a sedan backing out of a parking spot.

“You could’ve waited until we parked to check,” Phinn suggested sarcastically, with Jake nodding in the back. “I hope we’re still meeting here. I can’t take more of this video game driving.”

“Yes, we are, and stop being ungrateful,” the influencer responded. “We’re meeting at Mrs. Walcott’s apartment.”

After parking the car, the trio entered Pleasant Hall. Jake recalled visiting the building and Phinn’s great-aunt on multiple occasions. He especially remembered the day Phillippa had handed over the keys to her old sedan to Liberty. Johanna attempted to needle Phinn about his lack of a driver’s license, but the case-consumed sleuth didn’t bite.

A knock on the door brought the gray-haired Veronica Strecker. Her previous good spirits appeared to be ratcheted up several notches at the prospect of catching her old blackmailer. Beaming at the teens, she gladly hugged Jake after Johanna introduced him.

“Excellent timing. Chandra’s granddaughter arrived only a few minutes ago,” Veronica revealed, turning to head down the hallway.

Jake and Phinn leaned to the side to peer around the elderly woman. At the end of the hallway, they noticed the somewhat plump, silver-haired woman fussing over a familiar-looking blonde. The soon-to-be two-term editor of the South High Howler turned to wave at Johanna.

“Oh, fuck,” Phinn winced.

“Erin is going to be pissed,” Jake groaned, referring to the incoming editor of the North High Sonar and their classmate since kindergarten.

“Don’t give away much in front of her,” Phinn warned, more to Johanna than Jake.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Verity’s probably interested in the case,” the influencer said, shaking off the warning.

“Precisely,” Phinn replied. “Think of Erin’s reaction, and that we have to see her almost daily in less than two months.”

“It’s going to be less than that. She’ll start meddling in our cases again. It will be a repeat of last fall,” Jake fretted. “Or worse, like that time in tenth grade.”

“Seriously, you two need to chill. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Phinn responded. “So, you’d be cool if we brought Isla Insley along with us on our next case?”

“You stay away from that jealous imitator!” Johanna warned about her South High influencer rival.

“See? Now you understand,” Phinn remarked, walking down the hallway. “I see we have an interloper. Our loyalties lie with Donnelly. Remember that.”

“Oh, my!” Chandra Walcott.

“I’m sorry, what’s wrong?” Veronica asked.

“Just Prickly Phineas being his usual self,” the bespectacled blonde stated, peering through her eyeglasses at the detective.

“Rival high school newspaper nonsense. Forget about it,” Johanna commented, fistbumping her cousin’s classmate.

“It’s not a rivalry. The Sonar isn’t in the Howler’s league.”

“You get that, Jake?”

“Got it,” his partner responded, holding up his recording phone. “Proof that we didn’t invite you here, Verity.”

“Roar!” Veronica sounded. “The school newspapers sound as catty as the pageant.”

“It does,” the plump grandmother agreed with a disapproving expression. “It’s disappointing.”

“Don’t worry about it, Grandma,” Verity reassured, grinning at Jake’s phone. “It’s clearly one-sided.”

Despite the retort ready to escape his lips, Phinn bit his tongue. Instead, he directed Jake to bring his folder over to the kitchen table. Gesturing to the sliding door, the teen detective addressed the apartment resident.

“We’d like to conduct these separately. Jake and Johanna can show Mrs. Strecker the photos while we can do the same outside on the balcony,” Phinn instructed, despite the polite tone that made it feel like a suggestion.

“Oh,” Chandra replied, somewhat taken aback.

“It’s to keep you two from influencing each other, Grandma,” Verity explained.

“Well, I guess that makes sense,” the pleasant woman said, agreeing to the idea.

Exiting through the sliding door, Phinn squinted at the bright sun that shone directly down on the balcony at this time of the morning. Thankful for the lack of wind, Phinn remained standing while Chandra and Verity sat on two of the four chairs around the small table. Slowly placing six photographs on the table face-first, Phinn waited until he heard Veronica’s voice declare that Avery Voyce wasn’t any of the six men. Satisfied that the first part of the plan worked inside the apartment, the teen slowly flipped over each picture.

“Take your time and look over each one, Mrs. Walcott. No need to rush,” Phineas instructed.

Verity and Phinn watched as her grandmother looked at each picture with an unsure expression. Shaking her head, the pleasant, plump woman raised it in the sleuth’s direction.

“I’m not sure. I only ever met the man in passing. Maybe a brief word during the pageant, but Mimi kept us away from him afterward. Perhaps, if these photos were closer.”

Phinn nodded at the comment. Johanna’s camera skills clearly outshone Corky’s with her perfect closeups. The young fan club president’s lack of confidence about taking secret shots up close had resulted in images with other people in the frame. However, the lead investigator preferred Corky’s style for this photo lineup.

“That’s the cocksucker!” came the scream from inside the kitchen.

A muffled response brought on a “I’m damn sure!”

Shocked by the language and ferocity of Veronica’s statement, Chandra started to rise from her chair. Phinn immediately motioned for her to remain seated while glancing at Verity for her help. The experienced interviewer understood that the detective didn’t want her grandmother to give up yet.

“Please, give each picture another longer look. Maybe focus on each of the men’s body stances or how they carry themselves,” Phinn suggested while also prodding the former newspaper intern to examine the whole image.

Nodding, Chandra slowly moved across the top three pictures, studying each photo for almost forty-five seconds. As she did so, Phinn gestured for her granddaughter to quiet the noise coming through the sliding door. Rather than leave her grandmother’s side for long, Verity merely closed the door.

Phinn watched the woman hopefully as she finished the fourth picture. Moving over to the center photograph in the bottom row, the teen held his breath while she studied the one that mattered. Shaking her head for the fifth time, Chandra started to move to the next photo, but her attention quickly shifted back to something right of the fifth man.

A gasp followed.

“That’s her. That’s Nan!” Chandra exclaimed, jabbing a finger at the woman in the fifth photograph. Picking it up, she examined it more closely in the bright light. “No doubt about it. She’s still got the same scowl.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Walcott. You’ve been a tremendous help,” Phinn declared, picking up the pictures on the table before holding his hand out for the remaining one. “Please, let’s go inside. I believe Mrs. Strecker identified Avery Voyce.”

The swindler’s wife had confirmed Phinn’s theory. She also demanded to know his name, but Jake held firm. Her angry gaze shifted to Phineas as the other three entered the kitchen. Phinn began by handing over the picture that Chandra had identified to Veronica while motioning for Jake to do the same for their hostess. Verity immediately peered over her grandmother’s shoulder.

“That’s him!”

“Wait, I know this woman. It’s Avery’s assistant. He sometimes brought her around as his plus one,” Veronica recounted.

“Another little lie. Well, I guess she might have started as Voyce’s assistant, but Nan Kronen was also his partner. Professionally and romantically, since she’s now his wife,” Phinn announced, dropping his bombshell revelation.

Commotion rang out from all four women. Questions flew.

“Unfortunately, Jake and I can’t reveal their names today. We need to ensure that our investigation’s results aren’t inadvertently revealed before we can assure you of justice,” Phinn stated.

Jake frowned, as he didn’t necessarily like getting grouped into this decision after his partner left him in the dark. However, the duped detective agreed with Phinn’s rationale. Based on Veronica’s response, she wanted to take on Avery Voyce and his wife right this instant.

“Is this secrecy due to my presence?” Verity inquired.

“Partly. However, we can’t take any risks. I promise that you and the others will receive justice, but to be honest, we are not yet certain what kind it will be,” Phinn proclaimed.

“How?” the uninvited guest questioned. “The statutes of limitations have long passed for these types of crimes.”

“Very true, Verity. However, there is no statute of limitations for murder,” Phinn responded.

“Murder?! Grandma, you never mentioned a murder!”

Veronica and Chandra nodded upon realizing who Phineas referred to.

“I won’t be entirely rude,” Phinn said, focusing on the rival high school’s editor. “I will give you a name to look into: Terry Tully.”

After also telling Verity to ask the women about the dead PI, Phinn thanked them for their time. Promising to be in touch as soon as possible with updates, he ushered Jake and Johanna out of the apartment.

“Don’t say a word until we’re in the car. That girl is too nosy for her own good,” Phinn warned before Jake could open his mouth.

“Damn, she sounds like the perfect woman for you,” Johanna responded, half-teasing.

Phineas ignored the obvious gears turning in her brain as they took the stairs rather than the tiny, cramped elevator. Glancing over his shoulder several times on their trek to the car, Phinn nodded his pleasure that Verity hadn’t tried to follow them slyly.

"Holy shit!" Jake bellowed as soon as they got into Johanna's car.

“You’re shocked?” Phinn questioned.

“Who are these people?” Johanna demanded to know, but the two gumshoes ignored her.

“Well, I guess not. I mean, I never really liked them. I shouldn’t say that about neighbors, but I guess it’s justified after what we learned today,” Jake admitted, hemming and hawing over his true feelings.

“Wait, what? You actually don’t like somebody? I thought you gave everyone the benefit of the doubt?” Johanna challenged.

“Not these neighbors. Let’s just say that we know someone who definitely dislikes the woman once known as Nan Kronen,” Phinn revealed before directing Johanna to start the vehicle and drive. “There is a Baron Broil about a mile down the road. Head there.”

“It’s a bit early for lunch,” Johanna responded.

“We’re not eating. We’re not!” Phinn directed the second part at his partner. “We’ll discuss the case in the parking lot. I don’t trust Verity and her super-ears.”

Grumbling, Johanna followed Phinn’s direction. The late breakfast crowd filled around half of the parking lot, leading Jake to point out three empty spots at the end of a row. Of course, Johanna started to park in the closest spot until corrected by the detectives.

“Alright, who are these neighbors of yours? Did I meet them this week?” the influencer questioned after turning off her car in the last spot in the row.

“See this man? This was once Avery Voyce,” Phinn began, pulling out the photograph that Veronica selected. “We know him as Gilbert Bethune, a neighbor of ours on Clay Avenue, who claims to be a retired salesman.”

“He’s also known as the flirty old man in the area,” Jake added.

“And this woman,” Phinn said, holding up the picture that Chandra identified. It showed Eugene Gordon chatting at one of the rummage sales, but the significant person was the woman facing away from him. “She’s Ruth Bethune.”

“The neighborhood witch. Also, Grammy Harp can’t stand her,” Jake added.

“Wait, Dusty’s grandmother?” Johanna double-checked, recognizing the surname.

“Yes. Mrs. Bethune has a reputation for having a poor attitude around the neighborhood. Her demeanor appears to fit that of the woman once known as Ruthella “Nan” Kronen,” Phinn revealed.

“Ruthella?” Jake repeated.

“It's the name I had a hard time deciphering in Terry Tully’s notes. Tully planned to question her about any former owners of the property on Lafayette Avenue, as he heard that she might be the current owner during his investigation,” Phinn reported.

“Oh, shit! That means the Bethunes killed Tully!”

“Easy on the accusations, buddy,” Phinn warned. “We need to prove that.”

“Fuck, this is going to be difficult,” Jake moaned.

“Hang on, I do recognize this woman,” Johanna said. “Didn’t she get into it with your crazy ex-military neighbor the other day?”

“Yes, Mrs. Bethune and Mr. Greene often don’t see eye to eye. That doesn’t mean either of them is right about their arguments. They’re just bitter people,” Phinn appraised.

“Do you think they hired a thug to put on that Sonny Snyder mask to scare us off?” Jake speculated.

"Doubtful. I'm still leaning hard toward Masked Creep and Angelo Manfredi being problems separate from this blackmail case. However, I am curious about when the Bethunes learned about the pictures appearing around their neighborhood. I bet that was quite the shock," Phinn guessed, smiling.

“Why do you say that?” Jake asked.

“Haven’t you noticed that they’ve been around Madison Avenue far more often these past few days? Clay is a few blocks away, and they don’t get along with Greene,” Phinn pointed out.

“Yeah, they have been around our street far more often than usual,” Jake agreed, nodding. “So they’re watching us.”

“It makes sense. It’s very possible that they might suspect Sharon Capshaw is behind the photos. That's if they know her mother hired Tully back in the day.”

“Hold on. What did you mean last night about Voyce’s current name being ironic?”

“Jake, think about it. Where do the Bethunes live?”

“Over on Clay Avenue. On the other side of the LeClaires on Monroe and…No fucking way!”

“Yes, fucking way,” Phinn replied, nodding vigorously.

“Well, I don’t fucking know! Hello, neighborhood outsider here. Explain,” Johanna commanded.

“Do you want me to tell the story, or would you prefer?” Phinn inquired.

“You’d better. I’m not as good with old cases,” Jake admitted.

“So, our tale begins roughly five and a half years ago,” Phinn began, sounding as if he were reading a fairy tale to a group of children. “This was within the first year of our becoming serious detectives. We also spent much of this time debunking supernatural or paranormal legends around Edgewater. So you can imagine our interest in proving that an old neighbor’s spirit didn’t haunt his recently vacant home.”

“Pure bullshit concocted by Todd, Shane, and Rick,” Jake interjected.

"Jacob, please, I'm telling the story," Phinn reminded. "So, the three of us decided to conduct a stakeout the night before Good Friday, since we had off from school. While Todd seemed to be the primary source of the sightings, Allison, Abigail, and several other classmates had also noticed the lights in Old Man Mauldin's house, where there shouldn't have been anyone. He'd died a short time prior to this night."

“I never for once believed it was a ghost,” Jake insisted, rewriting history.

“Sure, you didn’t. Now, we had Dusty on lookout at the top of the slide over in the park. When a light came on, Jake and I made our move. Curiously, the side door had been left unlocked. Rather strange behavior for a ghost.”

“It was a burglar, right?” Johanna assumed.

“We couldn’t be too sure. That’s why I brought an iron poker from my living room fireplace,” Jake declared.

“You did have a reason in mind for bringing an iron poker,” Phinn remarked, recalling Jake’s shout at the undead fiend when he burst into the bedroom. “Long story short, we didn’t find Old Man Mauldin’s ghost. We found Brady Jensen, who lived on Clay Ave. behind Mr. Mauldin’s home.”

“I never suspected a ghost,” Jake insisted again. “Mr. Mauldin wasn’t mean enough to stay around for revenge.”

“Are you finished overdenying your ghost obsession?” Phinn challenged. “Good. We discovered Mrs. Jensen in bed with Gail Seaver, the realtor listing the home for Sellwind Realty.”

“That's the preening real estate agent with all the ads around town,” Johanna stated. “My mom can’t stand her. Rival agents and all.”

“Yes, Gail bounced back to her maiden name after Sellwind fired her. I somewhat wonder how she kept her real estate license, but whatever,” Phinn said, shrugging.

“She changed her name again after getting married again,” Jake clarified.

“How we tie into this is that Mrs. Jensen took her husband sneaking off to bang a realtor in their dead neighbor’s house, as well as you might think.”

“She filed for divorce, and the house went up for sale,” Jake filled in the obvious blanks.

“Yes, Gilbert and Ruth Bethune are the people who purchased the property. So in a way, the incident that turned plenty of people around here against us is going to be responsible for the blackmailers’ arrest,” Phinn remarked, close to gloating.

“Uh, that also means that we inadvertently caused Sydney’s grandma’s heart attack,” Jake pointed out.

“It’s best not to mention that cause and effect ever again,” Phinn suggested, earning wholehearted agreement from his partner.

“Okay, so your junior ghost hunting thing resulted in all of this. Whatever,” Johanna responded dismissively. “How can you be sure you can get these people arrested? The blackmail that we know of dates back forty to fifty years.”

“By noting that we have Terry Tully’s murder and the possibility that the Bethunes never gave up their blackmail game.”

“I think we’re better off focusing on any recent blackmail or extortion. Those could still be new enough for prosecution,” Jake suggested, well aware of criminal cases thanks to his mother. “A cold case killing is better left up to the police.”

“Is it?” Phinn asked, smirking.

Jake hated that smirk. That smirk always led him into trouble. Always.

“Okay, we need to do two things. First, we need to investigate the Bethunes' background, starting from the day they purchased their current home and moving backward in time. Second, we need to keep an eye on their movements,” Phinn listed.

“Aren’t we going to tell Mrs. Capshaw about this development?” Jake inquired.

“Not yet. It’s for the same reason we didn’t tell anyone back at Hardyhill. We don’t know how she’ll react. No need to spook the Bethunes and send them on the lam,” Phinn pointed out.

“Seriously, who talks like this but you?” Johanna commented, rolling her eyes.

“Don’t trifle with me, Zay. I have an important role for your influencer persona,” Phinn revealed. “Can you fake a story for your social crap about the Monroe Park Rummage Sale and its history?”

“Sure, but who would care among my followers?”

“You’ll be using this as cover to interview the neighbors around here for any information on the Bethunes. We need to learn what they told people about their past and where they moved here from. It’s best to dance around the topic, but I can give you–”

“I know how to conduct interviews, asshole!”

"Fine. I want you to start with Charlotte Annable, our local alderwoman. Then, you'll talk to Eugene Gordon, a retired mailman and our local male gossiper. After that, we'll inform April LeClaire and possibly her parents to participate in the fake interviews. I want people who knowingly or unknowingly spread the news about your interest in the neighborhood, the sale, and the past of both. Eventually, you'll work your way up to interviewing Gilbert and Ruth. But I want their suspicions disarmed at that point," Phinn said, laying out his plan.

“You should add in Mrs. Potts and Mrs. Yearwood before speaking to the Bethunes. With Phinn’s mom out of town, they’re our best hope for additional gossip,” Jake suggested.

“True. Using my mom and her gossip network would be the best way, but I also like not having her around for this stuff,” Phinn admitted.

“Anything else?” Johanna challenged sarcastically.

Tapping the radio clock, Phinn told her that she’d better get a move on it.

“I want you ready to interview the Bethunes by noon tomorrow. The rummage sale provides an excuse for everything, and it only lasts for a few more days,” Phinn noted.

“Will you be doing anything?” the influencer questioned.

“Of course. With Gilbert and Ruth Bethune’s names, I want to investigate the Lafayette property and any others further that they might have owned. Jake’s going to run the rummage sale.” Jake protested his role. “Look, we’re going to need Corky to tail the Bethunes around. He won’t draw their attention like we would.”

“Dammit,” Jake swore before muttering that Phinn’s plan made sense.

“If you can convince Libby to run the sale, you can help me with the records or Corky from a distance. One of the four of us needs to be at the sale, even if we get Wally or Ethan back. If not, my mom will know. We also don't need the Bethunes wondering what we’re up to,” Phinn noted.

“You could take off some of my load,” Johanna complained.

"Whoa! If it's too much for you, I can check if Isla Insley is interested in the exclusive. Would you prefer that?"

“Fuck off, Farris!”