Homicide! (Parker & Knight Book 2)

HOMICIDE

BY

DONALD WELLS

Title Page

Also By Donald Wells

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Further Reading: Game Over!

About the Author

D
avey Simms grinned as he watched Carla Vasquez crook her finger at him and run off into the woods.

They were at Taggart Lake with a group from their high school, enjoying the last few days of summer before they all drifted apart. Some of the kids were off to college out of state, some to state university, but everyone knew that things were about to change forever.

Davey was going to work full-time in his father’s paint store. College wasn’t for him and besides, Carla worked at her mother’s café next to the paint store, and she too would be staying in town and working full-time.

Davey had been in love with the beautiful Carla since their first meeting during freshman year of high school. Carla, on the other hand, barely paid Davey any attention and preferred the hunky, manly type.

Davey was more nerd than man, but love can change you sometimes and Davey reinvented himself this past year, determined to win Carla Vasquez’s heart.

A strict high-protein, low carb diet mixed with a weight training regimen packed pounds of muscle on Davey and by the end of the school year, Davey could call himself a genuine hunk, and when contact lenses replaced the dorky glasses that he wore, he was a handsome hunk, but he wasn’t through yet.

It took every penny he could save from working in the paint store, plus the money earned from cutting lawns, along with the ultimate sacrifice, the selling off of his precious comic book and coin collections, but by the middle of August he had enough money to buy a red Harley Davidson.

Fate was in his corner as well, because Carla had recently broken up with that “jerk”, Ty Collins, the kid that used to dunk Davey’s head in the toilet at school.

Carla was available, Davey had turned himself into a hunk and he had a motorcycle that would make him seem even cooler. Carla wouldn’t know what hit her.

When he arrived at the lake, every head turned his way and he saw that Carla couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He was wearing a tight pair of black jeans along with boots and a red, muscle T, the shirt showed off his guns, while the boots added much needed height.

It took every bit of restraint not to walk over to her, but Davey played it cool, his self-discipline was rewarded when it was Carla who approached him. After that, they were inseparable, and he gave her a ride around to the other side of the lake while she rode on the back of the bike and held on. Davey enjoyed the feel of her pressed against him, and looked forward to greater intimacy.

Once they were alone, Carla got off the bike, gave him a sexy smile, and crooked her finger at him in a, “follow me” gesture.

When she ran off into the woods giggling, Davey flipped down the kickstand on the bike and ran after her, his mind racing with thoughts of conquest.

At last, Carla wanted him, and he was about to make out with his dream girl.

He lost sight of her, but knew that there was a meadow nearby and hoped that she would be waiting for him, lying down amid wildflowers with welcoming arms.

When he spotted the shape lying amid the tall grass, he smiled, and then he crept nearer. When he was fifty feet away, he went into a sprint and threw himself into the air to land beside the form he had thought was Carla.

It was not Carla.

The odor struck him first, the stench of death, and then his eyes took in the bloated, distorted, purple face of the corpse. He began to hyperventilate, and as he stood, his foot slipped in a pool of body fluids and he toppled onto the corpse, the result being that his lips brushed against the dead flesh of the thing’s gashed and blood-blackened throat.

He didn’t even stop to tell Carla what had happened, but rather, he ran by her in a mindless panic, his arms flailing wildly in the air, and, given the horror of his discovery, she could have forgiven Davey for that, what she couldn’t forgive, or ever forget, was the sound he made as he ran.

It was a high-pitched wail such as a little girl might make, and it was the wussyist sound that Carla had ever heard. Needless to say, she never went out with Davey again.

You can’t hide what’s inside. 

***

D
etective Rick Parker stared down at the bloated corpse while fighting his gag reflex. Whenever the breeze subsided, the odor emanating from the body was brutal and it was a smell that he knew he would never get used to, no matter how many homicides he worked.

His partner, Detective Joanna Knight, gave him a nudge and when he looked at her, he saw that she was holding a tube of scented petroleum jelly. Judging by the shiny spot beneath her nostrils, she had already used it herself.

“Thanks, and I’ll bet you that we just found our missing person.”

“I think you’re right, I also think that wound in his neck looks like it was made by a knife, although, given the amount of decomp, I guess we’ll have to wait for the autopsy to know for sure.”

Parker applied the mentholated gel on his upper lip while thinking about their missing persons case.

A man named Charles “Chaz” Woolley went missing and his disappearance was reported by his mother, who lived nearby.

Woolley had been a manager of
Taggart’s
, a bar and grill that sat on the other side of the lake.

If the body before him was Woolley than it looked as though they now had a homicide on their hands. It also meant that they would have to question the staff of
Taggart’s
once more, a staff that included the very lovely Heather Jones.

“Why the smile?” Knight said.

Parker shrugged.

“It was a grimace; the gel helps but that smell still gets through.”

“Mm, hmm,” Knight said. “I thought maybe you were smiling because you were thinking of Heather Jones. If this is Woolley, we’ll have to question
Taggart’s
staff again, Jones included.”

Parker stared at her.

“How long have we been partners?”

“About two weeks, why?”

“We’ve only known each other for two weeks and already you can read me like a book? No wonder you’re a great detective.”

“So, you were thinking about Jones?”

“Yes, I admit it, but chalk it up to hormones. A girl that beautiful tends to stay on the male brain.”

“She’s twenty-two and studying to be a doctor, I’d say that makes her a woman.”

“A very young woman, too young for an old man like me,”

“Forty isn’t old, Rick, you’re just feeling down because of your divorce.”

“Speaking of relationships, did that alarm guy Hooper ever call you?”

“He did, we had Sunday brunch together and we’ll be going out this weekend.”

“Good, I hope things work out there.”

The coroner, Stella Harvey, arrived, and after exchanging pleasantries with Rick and Jo, she put on a mask and gloves and began examining the body. The body and the surrounding area had already been photographed.

“This gash on the neck looks like a knife wound and is likely the cause of death.”

She reached into the back pocket of the body’s soiled jeans and wrenched a wallet free, a difficult task given the bloat of the corpse. She then opened it and read from the driver’s license.

“The victim’s name was Charles Woolley,” Stella said.

Parker nodded.

“Our missing persons case has just become a homicide.”

T
he following day, Heather Jones checked her face in the car’s rearview mirror, and then tucked an errant strand of hair back in place.

When she got out of the car, she smoothed the wrinkles from her black skirt while wondering if she should have worn the red one instead, the shorter of the two.

She shook her head slightly, and decided that she had dressed the right way, after all, she wasn’t throwing herself at the man, she just wanted to make him interested in her.

She smiled, while thinking of Parker, and once again wondered why she couldn’t get him off her mind.

After opening the passenger door and grabbing the white bag off the seat, she took a deep breath and headed for the front doors of the municipal center.

***

U
pstairs, Joanna Knight sat at her desk and smiled at Parker.

“That’s a new tie, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“It’s very nice, and is that a new sport coat too?”

“Yes, I, ah, did a little shopping.”

Jo’s smile widened.

“You got it bad, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Parker said, but he knew exactly what she meant.

“She should be here any minute; would you like to interview her alone?”

Parker hung his head.

“You think I’m a fool, don’t you?”

The smile left Jo’s face and she reached across and touched Parker’s hand.

“Hey, Rick, I don’t think it’s foolish for you to be attracted to Jones, and I’ll tell you something else, I think it’s mutual. Every time we’ve talked to her, she’s asked you to come by the bar.”

“She was just being nice, and besides, she’s now part of an active investigation.”

“We’ll solve this case and then that will end, when it does, ask her out. The worst that can happen is that she’ll say no.”

Parker shook his head in disagreement.

“That’s not the worst; the worst would be if she said yes.”

Jo gave him a puzzled look, but then the phone rang and she answered it. When she hung up, she grinned.

“The lady is on her way up.”

***

P
arker watched Heather Jones as she stepped off the elevator.

The woman was stunning, with a gorgeous figure, thick red hair and large green eyes.

She was wearing a black skirt that displayed her legs, but wasn’t so short that it couldn’t be worn on any occasion. Her blouse was cobalt blue, and Parker noted that it matched her shoes perfectly; he also noted that it gapped slightly, and displayed just a hint of cleavage.

Her make-up, if any, was understated, and the only jewelry she wore were a pair of gold earrings and a turquoise ring.

As he and Knight approached her, Heather smiled and Parker felt his knees weaken. Only one other woman had ever affected him that way, his ex-wife, Rachel.

He shook her hand.

“Ms. Jones, thank you for coming in, we’ll try to make this quick.”

“I’m in no hurry,” Heather said.

Jo suddenly sniffed the air, as a mouth-watering aroma reached her nose.

“Oh my God, what have you got in that bag, is that barbeque I smell?”

Heather grinned.

“It is; I thought I’d bring you some of
Taggart’s
ribs; they’re the best in town. There are two rib dinners in the bag, one for each of you, just a show of appreciation for solving Tiff’s murder.”

“That’s very kind, but not necessary,” Parker said.

“I would have been in sooner, Detective Parker, but I thought I might see you at the bar, in fact, I was looking forward to it.”

Jo reached out and took the bag from Heather.

“I’ll take this and put it in the break room while Rick interviews you about the case. Rick, why not use Interview Room C?”

Parker looked at his partner, wondering if she could be any more obvious. Interview Room C was where lawyers met with their clients. There were no one-way mirrors and no listening devices and was arguably the most private spot in the building. Parker nodded in agreement and led Heather down a corridor to the right as Jo walked off with the bag of food.

Interview Room C was a cramped space with a single table and two chairs. Parker held out a seat for Heather and she sent him a smile.