Cry From The Grave
Chapter 17
As Tori turned south down Kisker Road in Saint Charles County, Ballack finished his Jumble puzzle for the day at the same time Hull called him. They had located Eric Carter's house, a six hundred square foot rental situated in an older neighborhood behind the Cici's Pizza on Manchester Road in Rock Hill. After knocking for a few moments and then--searching the perimeter of the darkened property--failing to find his car in the garage, they decided to question some of the neighbors. They were in process with some of them, so Hull promised to ring in at nine o'clock. He also said he'd make a desperation attempt to get through to the Delmar Clinic.
The former Mrs. Dean Hibbler, now styling herself Suzanne Lamotta, lived in a two-story abode nestled in the Windcastle subdivision, situated off Pitman Hill Road halfway between Kisker Road and the Katy Trail. Ballack was concerned there would be no point of access into the house, but Tori mischievously winked and told him not to worry.
On pulling up in the driveway, Ballack saw why. The garage door was left open for them to enter on foot. Next to the garage, situated on the northwest corner of the house, was a circular turret with an elevator visible through enormous window panes. Evidently, Suzanne had already sent the car to ground level, and both detectives merely had to walk into it upon punching the button. Less than twenty seconds later, they were entering a cozy den just off a large dining area. Two environmentally-conscious composite logs were blazing in the fireplace. Coming from the kitchen, Suzanne Lamotta approached them, hand extended, wearing a long sleeve, cream-colored blouse and a pair of blue jeans showing the curves which masked her early fifties age. Her blond hair was attractively cut, her face bore a light amount of makeup, and Ballack's nose detected an onslaught of Burberry perfume. She invited them to sit in the den by the fire.
"Not knowing if you've eaten or not, I have snacks," she offered. "Or perhaps you just care for a drink. I have wine, but you probably don't need that on duty. I also have the innocuous soft drinks. Pepsi or Sierra Mist?"
"A Pepsi for me," said Tori, suddenly thirsty.
"I'll be fine," declared Ballack, who would rather dehydrate than drink Pepsi products. He glided toward what looked like a back office, peeking in the door once he was certain Suzanne was otherwise occupied in the kitchen. Surprised it was a bedroom, he came back and situated himself by the fire just before she returned with Tori's can of soda.
"Not to intrude," he began, "but is Lamotta a return to your maiden name? Or have you remarried since your divorce from Dr. Hibbler?"
A brief look of offense left her eyes as soon as it came. "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting that as an opener, given your partner just informed me of Dean's death a couple hours ago. But yes, I've remarried since. My husband Dante and I have been together for fifteen years and have lived here the last three. The elevator is helpful for him because he had a terrible motorcycle accident five years ago and his left foot was amputated. He's got a prosthetic foot, but it's still a pain to climb stairs. When we were able to build this house, we were able to spend extra and put the elevator in place. He's out of town, by the way. Dean's visiting his daughter from a previous marriage. Just wanted to explain why you didn't see him around."
"I imagine it must have been painful, going through that," said Ballack.
"Indeed it was," Suzanne preened, "as I am sure you've been through a lot yourself, Detective. But I'm sure you came to talk about my ex-husband, not the one I currently have."
Tori began. "When was the last contact you had with Dr. Hibbler?"
"With Dean? Oh, for heaven's sake, it's been some time. Ironically, I think we spoke more after the divorce than during our marriage. Typical stuff, you know. Charming and funy during a whirlwind courtship, and then married to his work from then on out. At least we never had any kids that would be destroyed by our split."
"I don't mean to be personal, but was there anything specific that triggered the divorce?"
"You mean like infidelity?" Suzanne shook her head vigorously. "Actually, that might have been better. Would've shown he had a little passion. But no, if he wasn't working, he was likely hunting. Mainly ducks and geese, then by the time the divorce was finalized, he was going after deer, as well."
Ballack was fully engaged. "Deer hunting? With a gun or bow?"
"He never told me." Suzanne said. "I suppose he believed I should feel fortunate even to know what he hunted. But I had eyes. Most of his fowl expeditions were with guns, but he had collected a fair number of knives over the years."
"Knives?" Ballack and Tori said in unison. The discovery of the Buck 119 Special took on added importance now. Suzanne looked nervously at both of them.
"Yes," she said deliberately. "And by the way you both responded, I'm coming to believe that when you said he died in his office, it wasn't entirely natural."
Tori looked down at her notes, covering her mouth. Ballack leaned toward Suzanne and said quietly, "No, it wasn't." He paused, his intuition telling him her surprise was legitimate. "He was stabbed to death. In the neck area. The likelihood is his death was quick and he had no time to suffer."
Even Ballack didn't believe his last statement, but it seemed to convince Suzanne. She plucked a tissue from a box on the end table and dabbed at her now-moist eyes.
"I'm...I'm sorry. I guess when someone is dead to you for some time, their actual death is still a shock. I just can't believe this happened." She paused, placing her face in her hands. After a few seconds, she lifted her head, revealing darkened splotches around both eyes.
"It's entirely okay," said Ballack. "Grief is sneaky stuff, and you have nothing to apologize for."
"Mrs. Lamotta, even if there wasn't much contact between Dr. Hibbler and yourself," asked Tori, "can you think of anything he might have said that indicated he was in danger?"
"No, but then again, except for property issues, we spoke little over the last few years."
"Property issues?" asked Ballack.
"Yes," she replied. "We had...well, we still have a house at Innsbrook. Part of the divorce agreement was sharing the mortgage as long as we both agreed to have access to it. We worked out the usage so that we wouldn't be there the same weekend, and to be honest, unless he was at some hunting grounds out past Warrenton or something, Dean rarely went to the lake house. I do know that he kept some papers and files out there that related to his work, both at the clinic and the hospice."
"Do you know if those are papers that have to do with client sessions or are they as private as that?" asked Tori, who saw a clear opportunity to short-circuit their need to visit the Delmar clinic.
"I don't know, to tell you the truth. There's a chance something would be there that might give you a clue, but you could go have a look. I have the keys right here in a kitchen drawer."
"You'd be willing to part with them?" Ballack inquired aloud, not believing it was this easy.
"We're not due to go back out there until Thanksgiving week. If you really feel there's something out there that could help you catch his killer, I'm all for giving you the keys as long as I get them back in a couple days. You obviously know where I live."
"That would be helpful. Thank you."
As Suzanne headed into the kitchen, Tori whispered to Ballack. "This changes everything. We probably weren't going to get anywhere with Delmar at all."
"We wouldn't have needed detailed cases, Tor," Ballack replied. "We had a few leads last April at DaySpring and that was just looking at a list of appointments and back accounts. And that turned out to be a goose chase. We solved the case without the benefit of those items. Here she comes."
Suzanne Lamotta handed the key ring over to Tori, who turned it in the dusky firelight. There were two nickel-plated keys, one with an extra tooth.
"There is a red dot on the one to the front door," explained Suzanne. "The other one is to the boathouse. You won't need that. There's a kitchen area with sliding glass doors, but those lock from the inside."
"For the sake of legitimacy," asked Ballack as Tori pulled a notice from her binder, "can we have you sign a receipt for us?"
Suzanne had no objection and she willingly signed the paper.
"And in the interest of not mucking up your house while we are out there," said Tori, "in which room did he keep his records?"
"He had an office at the end of the hallway past the stairs to the loft. You'll see it when you enter the great room. The front door is the best entry point for you, Detective Ballack. One low step, so if you have a ramp as your partner claims, you should be right as rain."
"Thank you," said Ballack, who noticed her face was flushed. "Are you okay, Mrs. Lamotta?"
She wiped her eyes again. "You know, Detective, as much as I grew angry with him during our marriage, I could never wish him any harm myself. Even after the split, there was a part of me that always wished things would get better for him. I've never told Dante that. He doesn't like to hear about my marriage to Dean, nor does he share much about his first wife, either. At least he's consistent like that. But I am very sad that Dean is dead. Even someone of his moral shortcomings doesn't deserve to be killed like that."
"And you first heard the news..."
"Through your partner. I assume that once you release more details about it, this will be all over the news?"
"The story will break, Mrs. Lamotta, but we'll manage it as well as we can."
"For the record, can you give us some details about where you were today?"
"Certainly nowehere near Dean, if that's what you're asking," she said, a shadow flickering over her attractive face. "Dante left today to visit his daughter. She lives in Midland, Texas, so he obviously flew. I took him to the airport, and we got to Lambert at nine-twenty. His flight left at eleven, and I stayed with him through check-in and all the way to the security gate. I left the airport at nine-fifty. After that, I went grocery shopping at the Dierbergs at 94 and Mid-Rivers. Had lunch here, went to a book club meeting in Muirfield, and then back here. Tori called me and I've been stiff-arming the wine bottles since."
"And your husband called from Texas at some point today?" asked Ballack.
"He did indeed. I even got to speak with Brittany."
"Brittany?"
"His daughter. Can I take your glass, Ms. Vaughan?"
The conversation seemed to be winding down, and Ballack wanted to find out where Hull and Crabolli were on their tasks. Thanking their host for the drinks and the use of the key, they rose to leave. Five minutes later, when they left the subdivision, Tori broached the one item that had slipped their minds.
"Cameron, what if the doctor locked up his office there?"
Ballack closed his eyes, silently cursing this potential monkey wrench.
"Just bring a toolbox for the journey, Tor. Or hope for a way to pop the doorknob."
Tori looked down at her notes, covering her mouth. Ballack leaned toward Suzanne and said quietly, "No, it wasn't." He paused, his intuition telling him her surprise was legitimate. "He was stabbed to death. In the neck area. The likelihood is his death was quick and he had no time to suffer."
Even Ballack didn't believe his last statement, but it seemed to convince Suzanne. She plucked a tissue from a box on the end table and dabbed at her now-moist eyes.
"I'm...I'm sorry. I guess when someone is dead to you for some time, their actual death is still a shock. I just can't believe this happened." She paused, placing her face in her hands. After a few seconds, she lifted her head, revealing darkened splotches around both eyes.
"It's entirely okay," said Ballack. "Grief is sneaky stuff, and you have nothing to apologize for."
"Mrs. Lamotta, even if there wasn't much contact between Dr. Hibbler and yourself," asked Tori, "can you think of anything he might have said that indicated he was in danger?"
"No, but then again, except for property issues, we spoke little over the last few years."
"Property issues?" asked Ballack.
"Yes," she replied. "We had...well, we still have a house at Innsbrook. Part of the divorce agreement was sharing the mortgage as long as we both agreed to have access to it. We worked out the usage so that we wouldn't be there the same weekend, and to be honest, unless he was at some hunting grounds out past Warrenton or something, Dean rarely went to the lake house. I do know that he kept some papers and files out there that related to his work, both at the clinic and the hospice."
"Do you know if those are papers that have to do with client sessions or are they as private as that?" asked Tori, who saw a clear opportunity to short-circuit their need to visit the Delmar clinic.
"I don't know, to tell you the truth. There's a chance something would be there that might give you a clue, but you could go have a look. I have the keys right here in a kitchen drawer."
"You'd be willing to part with them?" Ballack inquired aloud, not believing it was this easy.
"We're not due to go back out there until Thanksgiving week. If you really feel there's something out there that could help you catch his killer, I'm all for giving you the keys as long as I get them back in a couple days. You obviously know where I live."
"That would be helpful. Thank you."
As Suzanne headed into the kitchen, Tori whispered to Ballack. "This changes everything. We probably weren't going to get anywhere with Delmar at all."
"We wouldn't have needed detailed cases, Tor," Ballack replied. "We had a few leads last April at DaySpring and that was just looking at a list of appointments and back accounts. And that turned out to be a goose chase. We solved the case without the benefit of those items. Here she comes."
Suzanne Lamotta handed the key ring over to Tori, who turned it in the dusky firelight. There were two nickel-plated keys, one with an extra tooth.
"There is a red dot on the one to the front door," explained Suzanne. "The other one is to the boathouse. You won't need that. There's a kitchen area with sliding glass doors, but those lock from the inside."
"For the sake of legitimacy," asked Ballack as Tori pulled a notice from her binder, "can we have you sign a receipt for us?"
Suzanne had no objection and she willingly signed the paper.
"And in the interest of not mucking up your house while we are out there," said Tori, "in which room did he keep his records?"
"He had an office at the end of the hallway past the stairs to the loft. You'll see it when you enter the great room. The front door is the best entry point for you, Detective Ballack. One low step, so if you have a ramp as your partner claims, you should be right as rain."
"Thank you," said Ballack, who noticed her face was flushed. "Are you okay, Mrs. Lamotta?"
She wiped her eyes again. "You know, Detective, as much as I grew angry with him during our marriage, I could never wish him any harm myself. Even after the split, there was a part of me that always wished things would get better for him. I've never told Dante that. He doesn't like to hear about my marriage to Dean, nor does he share much about his first wife, either. At least he's consistent like that. But I am very sad that Dean is dead. Even someone of his moral shortcomings doesn't deserve to be killed like that."
"And you first heard the news..."
"Through your partner. I assume that once you release more details about it, this will be all over the news?"
"The story will break, Mrs. Lamotta, but we'll manage it as well as we can."
"For the record, can you give us some details about where you were today?"
"Certainly nowehere near Dean, if that's what you're asking," she said, a shadow flickering over her attractive face. "Dante left today to visit his daughter. She lives in Midland, Texas, so he obviously flew. I took him to the airport, and we got to Lambert at nine-twenty. His flight left at eleven, and I stayed with him through check-in and all the way to the security gate. I left the airport at nine-fifty. After that, I went grocery shopping at the Dierbergs at 94 and Mid-Rivers. Had lunch here, went to a book club meeting in Muirfield, and then back here. Tori called me and I've been stiff-arming the wine bottles since."
"And your husband called from Texas at some point today?" asked Ballack.
"He did indeed. I even got to speak with Brittany."
"Brittany?"
"His daughter. Can I take your glass, Ms. Vaughan?"
The conversation seemed to be winding down, and Ballack wanted to find out where Hull and Crabolli were on their tasks. Thanking their host for the drinks and the use of the key, they rose to leave. Five minutes later, when they left the subdivision, Tori broached the one item that had slipped their minds.
"Cameron, what if the doctor locked up his office there?"
Ballack closed his eyes, silently cursing this potential monkey wrench.
"Just bring a toolbox for the journey, Tor. Or hope for a way to pop the doorknob."
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