When Gary, my Iraqi cab driver made the turn on to Avery road, I asked him to stop so I could take this picture. He happily obliged, and we resumed our journey.
Heading down Avery road a short distance, we reached some buildings on the property. Out away from town with the street lights that you would normally find in more populated areas, the environs of the salvage yard were still, quiet, and enveloped in ebon blackness. A person could easily stroll these grounds after nightfall without any worry of being detected, I thought. Well maybe not during a full moon, but surely during a new moon. In what phase was the moon, by the way, when Teresa was murdered? We passed one dwelling that looked unoccupied, all but for a single, naked glowing light bulb. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s home”, I said to Gary. We waited for a moment to decide what to do next.
Within moments, a man and a female passenger drove up next to the taxi in a large black truck. I told the man who I would later find out was Chris Avery that I thought I was pretty sure I knew who killed Teresa, and could I speak with them, please? He said “sure”, and asked us to follow him to the main house a little further down the road which wasn’t at all visible from where we were presently situated.
It took a minute for Gary to get his Square payment fob to read my debit card. While I was settling up and making my farewells to Gary, Chris went into the house, his father Chuck Avery’s house, and explained to him (by dumb luck he happened to be home) the purpose of my visit.
After getting out of the taxi, I walked a few dozen yards, went up some wooden steps leading to the side door on the left of the structure and was let in. It was then that I found myself face to face with Chuck Avery in his own kitchen.
“I am here because I think I know who killed Teresa Halbach”, I said to him with Chris and Chris’ girlfriend Leah standing close by. “If you would be so kind on this Christmas Day to listen to my theory”, I continued, “I would be quite honored” There was little reaction, but I nevertheless proceeded. Two little brown and white chihuahuas pranced and feinted at my feet, one named Tascha, the other’s name I don’t recall.
Avery Road Part III to be published by tomorrow evening and will include interesting information I learned from the Avery’s, and a very unexpected outcome to my surprise visit…