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Once inside the car, backing down the driveway, Roth spoke. “I think she was lying. Based on her hatred towards the Sheriff, she has reason, and I can’t think of a better reason than he’s abusive to someone she knows.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions. We have to check a few more people out, but we’ll see if anyone thinks Amanda and Penny Weston were chummy,” Jackson said. He dialed BT and put it on speaker. “Hey, pull phone records on a Penny Weston who lives near the Elsworth residence and see if her phone records put her near Amanda Elsworth on a regular basis, and if so, where and when.”
“Her husband is the principal at the Winthrop Middle School, if that helps to find her phone records,” Roth added.
“Thanks,” BT said.
“How’s the work with Briana coming along?” Roth asked.
“We’re making headway. I’ll transmit a file as soon as we’re done putting it together.”
“I had another thought,” Jackson said. “Check the local hospital and clinics for records for Amanda Elsworth. Maybe even in Boston before they moved. This guy killed her and dumped her body. It’s unlikely it’s the first time he got physical with her.”
“Yeah, I’m way ahead of you on that. I already have Brielle looking into our victim’s medical records both at the hospital and if she had a primary care doctor.”
“We’re heading to the grocery store in Winthrop, Hannaford’s, where our victim shopped every Thursday, per Penny Weston,” Roth said.
“Yeah, my review of the credit card statements confirms purchases almost every Thursday there,” BT said. “Once a month I have charges at the Walgreens in Winthrop as well, so you might want to swing by there too.”
“Will do, thanks.” Jackson disconnected the call. “You know the thing that’s bothering me about Penny Weston?”
“The pink hat that completely clashed with the flannel jacket?”
“No,” Jackson said with a laugh. “What are you, the fashion police?”
Roth also laughed. “I just couldn’t stop looking at the horrible color combo,” Roth said.
“She never asked why we were concerned about Amanda Elsworth, never asked what we thought could have happened to her,” Jackson clarified.
“And if she dislikes the Sheriff as much as she acted, why would she tell us we should be talking to him?” Roth added.
They both pondered it as they drove to the grocery store. It was bigger than either of them anticipated it would be. For some reason, they’d assumed it would be like a small bodega, but it was a modern, well-stocked grocery store with a butcher and a large assortment of fresh produce, frozen goods, and all the canned and packaged goods one would expect.
They busied themselves looking over produce, which was near the check outs, listened and watched. It may have had a big town feel to the store, but the clerks and customers were still small town, calling each other by name and chatting as the cashiers checked out the groceries. The manager at the service desk even called the customers by name, welcoming them into the store and bidding them goodbye as they left.
Jackson nodded to the manager, an older woman who projected friendliness. “She’s a good place to start. I’d bet the butcher would be too. Controlling men also are demanding and I’d bet he demanded she cooked good meals for him.”
“Yeah, gotta have good cuts of meat to make good meals,” Roth said. “I’ll go talk to the butcher.”
He found the butcher at the meat counter, re-arranging the steaks in the case. “What can I get you?” the butcher asked as he approached.
No one else was close enough to hear, but he dropped his voice down low, anyway. He flashed his badge. “A little information.” The man wasn’t close enough to see the agency listed on the creds or badge and Roth didn’t give his name or agency and the man didn’t ask. “What can you tell me about one of your customers, Amanda Elsworth?”
“Why are you asking about Amanda? Is she okay?”
“Why would you think she isn’t?” Roth asked.
“I know she’s very unhappy and stressed. Now, are you going to tell me why you’re asking?”
Roth noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding band beneath his gloved hand. “When was the last time you saw her?”
“Last Thursday. She always comes in on Thursdays. We get our meat in on Wednesdays, and I always hold a few of the better cuts for her.”
“She sounds like she’s one of your better customers, or is she a friend also?”
“Look, she’s a nice lady and if things were different, I’d definitely ask her out. We’re friendly enough when she comes in to shop, but it doesn’t go further than that.”
“Why not?” Roth pushed.
