Dead Women Tell No Lies (10 page)

BOOK: Dead Women Tell No Lies
5.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

 

The memory of the night with Dahlia was fading too soon. The urge for more haunted each night and day. But no hunt was needed.

She was here in Ledgeview. She’d come to him. Perfect.

Now the nights were filled with visions of Rose and waking up in a sweat, hard, anxious, wanting her, longing for her pain.

 

Chapter 7

 

“A fan left the graffiti message, DEATH TO THE PIGS, under the station’s sign. Is he in solitary on bread and water yet?” Buddy Drown slouched against Luke’s cubicle wall. Dressed in jeans, leather boots and an open blue parka he seemed ready for spring skiing, not questioning in a homicide case.

“I missed the message. I came in the rear, but I’m sure a team member will canvass the area and remove our new ad right away.” Luke sidestepped to the door and called out to Conroy. Where was he?

“If you’re looking for that middle aged detective who’s always eating, I heard him tell someone he was going out.”

Great, Luke thought. Conroy was supposed to meet him this morning to plan their next step in the investigation. The man had skipped out.

Luke tamped down on his irritation and dug out his notepad from underneath the cold case files. “I’m surprised to see you so early. Have a seat.”

Buddy sat on the chair in front of the desk. “I came to do my civil service, and don’t worry about being assigned scrub duty. Some sublevel officer was cleaning off the graffiti when I arrived.” His eyes lit with amusement. “You looking for me to pay up on the bet I lost? To be fair, since you canceled watching the game at my house, I think you should forfeit your winnings. That’s the same as yelling uncle in the civilian world.”

“We have an old family saying, Bud. Work gets in the way when you want to play.” Lennox flashed back to late, last night. His men had canvassed the old Chinese Restaurant and then up at The Ledges searching for clues. The portable lights shone well into the late hours, but they’d come up with a big fat zero at both places.

“I bet you’re hoping I suffered a breakthrough and can remember an earth shattering clue in the death of that murdered woman.”

“You’re here because you can help me track Dahlia Blue’s movements. Think back. You arrived at the Audi on the first Thursday in March with the donated clothes. Where was Miss Blue when you first saw her?” He picked up the pen, ready to jot down notes.

“She was standing on the stage, waiting to talk to Myra who was ordering everyone around. I’d never seen the woman before so I was curious. She wasn’t the Audi type.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re frustrated thespians dying for a last chance on a stage. Miss Blue stood out.”

“How?”

“You’re serious? Okay, I can go with your Law and Order questions. For one thing, she had a life ahead of her that didn’t include a Medicare payment in her near future.”

“What did you say when you first met?”

“I said hello, told her my name and that I was delivering clothes. I explained about mom’s store, told her to drop by and mention we met. Tia would give her a deal.”

“You’re always the salesman.”

“I was taught by the best, my parents.”

“What happened next?”

“She said she was waiting for a job interview at the theater. I wished her good luck. Myra joined us and sent me to the basement. I left the donated clothes and never saw the Blue woman again. She didn’t stop at Mom’s either.”

“Did you send her to Dean’s real estate office for the apartment?”

“Nope, she told me she found his advertisement online. Do you want me to swear on a bible I spoke the truth, the whole truth and nothing but what you wanted?”

“We’ll skip that part today. If you think of anything else, let me know.”

Buddy rose.

“One more thing, Bud. I’m asking everyone who had contact with Miss Blue to give me a calendar of where they were from February 25th to March 11th.”

“Are you serious? I’m a person of interest because I said hello?”

“I want to rule you out.”

“Shauna keeps a calendar. Since I’m with her all the time, I’m sure she can clear me. Am I free to go?”

“You were always free.” Luke closed his notebook.

“Until the wedding and then I’ll be saying, anything you want, dear.” Buddy grinned and shoved away from the chair. “Wait until Shauna hears I’m a suspect in a murder case.”

“Skip the torture part, Bud.”

“The sleep deprivation was the worst.”

“That’s called staying up too late.”

“You should know.” Buddy shoved his hand in his pockets and left.

With his friend gone, Luke’s thoughts wandered to Rose. Her image from last night refused to leave his thoughts. Her full lips were pressed together, trying to hold back fear while she gripped a gun. He held the picture in his mind and focused on her mouth, imagined tasting her lips. A surge of anticipation rippled in his nerve endings.

He shook his head and released his daydream. Forget the flavor of any part of Rose Blue. He’d enough grief in his life.
Don’t get involved with another woman and mess up your life.
He’d keep his head down and do what he did best, solve cases. Still, as scared as she was, Rose had done what he’d asked. She stayed away from the evidence and called him immediately. He’d give her a gold star. That was until she seemed to get her second wind and started wandering around the old restaurant.

He blocked out the buzz of activity floating over the cubicle walls of his office and returned to the online search he’d begun before Buddy’s arrival. First, he’d read about the psychic Jamison twins who’d become famous for world predictions, locating missing persons and solving homicide cases for the police.

They appeared legitimate. Maybe Rose was on the up and up. If she could help solve the murder of her sister, he was willing to listen.

Then he reviewed information on psychic ability. Articles confirmed many people didn’t develop their skills until they were adults.

At the sense of someone hovering, Luke spun his chair away from the computer. Over his shoulder, Conroy was reading his monitor.

Luke hit the sleep button. “You want to know what I’m doing? Show up for our meetings.”

“I’ve been working.” Conroy stood in front of his desk, his face pinched with tension. “Nothing’s turned up on the hunt for Dahlia Blue’s phone. Don’t know where she bought the prepaid her sister claimed she owned.” The detective’s onion breath hit Luke’s face.

“You came in for that? Where’s your written report?”

Conroy shrugged. “I’ll email you. What’s the plan for the divers? Without warmer temperatures, we’re done at the river.”

Luke fought the urge to ream out the other detective instead of discussing the case. His father always warned him impatience was his worse trait, but Conroy’s attempt to freeze him out of his own investigation needed to end.

“I expect you to show up on time for our meetings and then go to work.”

Conroy smoothed his face into a bland expression. “Whatever you say.”

Luke balled up a sheet of paper on his desk and threw it in the basket instead of at the other detective. “We’re done for now at the river. If we’d come up with a scrap of clothing or the victim’s necklace, I could validate continuing, but we didn’t.”

“Evidence of a weapon helps a homicide, too. I think the sister killed her twin” Conroy raised his head and glanced over the desk. “Do you have any donuts?”

“I’m not a donut shop.” Luke tapped his fingers on one of the files. “Stay on topic, Conroy. I spoke to the members of the Brattleboro Downtown Merchants. They confirmed Rose was present during their planning meetings for the Main Street Spring Fling. The group met during the ME’s estimated timeline for Dahlia Blue’s death.”

“The sister still could have driven to New Hampshire, killed her twin and gone back to Vermont in a few hours.”

“Except, her car was sitting at a garage waiting for a part.”

Conroy’s forehead wrinkled in lines of concentration. “She rented a vehicle.”

“I called the rentals in the area. None reported a woman with the name or description matching Rose Blue using one of their cars.”

Conroy scratched his head. “She took a taxi or borrowed the wheels. Someone will step forward when they hear about the murder. I’ll give the Vermont press a statement.”

“Pass out the one we released to the Ledgeview News and you should re-interview some of the Vermont neighbors and boutique customers.”

“What’s the verdict on the foot search around The Ledges?”

“Unless the foot team finds a lead today to support expanding the area, we’re finished up there.”

“That’ll make the men happy,” Conroy commented.

“That’s what I live for.”

“Yeah, that memo got lost,” Conroy said.

Luke sat back in his seat, forcing himself to relax. “While you’re in Vermont, I’ll interview the sister again and hit the theater where the victim was last seen. I’ll grab the cast list. If anything breaks, I’ll let you know.”

Conroy grunted and headed out.

Luke pushed away his ire and fixed his attention on the notes he’d written about Rose. His exasperation faded. “Who are you, Rose?”

When she spoke about her sister, he sensed her vulnerability, yet she was confident and took center stage when she talked about her business. He’d spent part of the last few days, reading the interviews the Vermont police had passed onto him. They all described Dahlia Blue as full of life, creative, friendly, good sense of humor and enthusiastic about her boutique. She shared a close relationship with her twin.

Many of their friends and neighbors then launched into a description of Rose. They described her as ‘dedicated, committed to her job.’ One even went so far as to call her ‘overzealous.’ No one referred to her as their close friend or confidant. Instead, they used words like private, reserved and surrounded by invisible boundaries to explain her. He’d heard similar words from his ex wife about himself

He remembered the day she’d told him she’d spoken to a divorce lawyer.

“Why would you speak to him?” Luke asked, unable to understand what was going on.

“You can’t be serious.” His wife’s lower lip jutted out, and she jammed her hands on her hips. “You’re never home, and when you are, you think and talk only work. There’s never been us time for a movie or a conversation in the last two years. We lead separate lives. If you’d paid attention when I told you we had a problem or how I worry about you on your job, we might be having a different discussion.” She paused in her tirade and wet her lips. “I’ve tried to be patient, to be the cop’s wife, but I can’t do it anymore. I’m done. We, and I use that word loosely, are done.”

He’d felt blindsided. After their painful split, he’d spent months examining his relationship. But it wasn’t only women, his conscience reminded. If he’d paid attention to his father’s feelings, his dad’s life would have ended differently. Luke had skipped his dad’s birthday, Father’s Day celebrations and spent less than ten minutes wishing his parents a Merry Christmas on the phone for the past five years. Luke felt the familiar punch of regret to his gut. He wouldn’t get caught in another relationship that would end in the same crushing hurt and doubts. It was a sad fact that he had a better connection to Old Charger. At least his car never let him down.

He switched his attention to the web search for Dahlia. None of the online social networks revealed a Dahlia Blue. Had she used a different name? “Didn’t you want to visit Tweet land, Miss Blue?”

Forty-five minutes later, he clicked out and sat staring at the blank screen. Where was a clue, a lead? He swiveled away from the monitor and toward his printer. He swiped up the sheet from the feed with the article from the Brattleboro newspaper. He stared down into the face of Rose’s sister with one arm around a dark-haired, husky man. Underneath their picture, the caption announced the engagement of Miss Dahlia Blue to Mr. A.J. Edwards.

Holding up the nuptial announcement, he contrasted Rose with her sister. Rose’s hair was a shade darker but otherwise the two appeared to be identical. Did these twins share the same tastes in food, movies or men?

Despite his earlier promise not to think about Rose, his thoughts stayed on her. He remembered the shape of her body when he’d pressed her close to his side at The Ledges. Afterward, the scent of her perfume clung to his clothes. For a moment, he imagined the flowery fragrance as he sat at his desk. He inhaled a deep breath and swore Rose’s perfume was suddenly in his space.

He ran a hand over his face. The woman brought problems along with her perfume. At The Ledges, her wide, innocent hazel eyes were fixed on him while she announced unknown details about her sister’s grisly murder. He could guess what would happen if word got out she was able to relay information from her dead sister to him. The guys at the station would love that one, and the Chief would be all over him, demanding physical evidence to back up each of her tips.

Lucky for him, the Chief was away for a few days at his daughter’s wedding. When he returned from the celebration, he would want Luke’s results. If Rose was lying and misleading him, he’d pay.

BOOK: Dead Women Tell No Lies
5.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Heat of Passion by Elle Kennedy
The Flaming Corsage by William Kennedy
Don't Look Back by Lynette Eason
Moonbog by Hautala, Rick
Footsteps by Pramoedya Ananta Toer
Murder on the Cape Fear by Hunter, Ellen Elizabeth
The Knight's Prisoner by Rose, Renee
The Key to Midnight by Dean Koontz