Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 01 - Sugar And Spice and Not So Nice (7 page)

“I think we’re all in deep shit,” I said, stating the obvious. Everyone agreed.

Chapter 8

We sat around the computer, wondering what to do next. Now I knew why Rachel didn’t run off to the police right away. Yet, I also knew that we couldn’t keep this.

“We need to go to the cops,” I said.

“Are you crazy?” yelled Greg. “That was a cop that killed that girl.”

“I know,” I said, “but we can’t keep this video. We need to tell someone in authority. With this video that detective will go straight to jail.”

“Didn’t you mention a detective that thought the entire case was handled poorly?” asked Jackie.

“Yeah, Detective Shorts,” replied Greg. “He was the only one on the force that was outspoken about the entire affair. He pursued the investigation on his own for a bit, but without any more evidence, he had to let it go.”

“Well, I think we have the evidence he needs,” I said. “We should give him a call.”

Before we could do anything the screech of tires peeled the air. Greg glanced out the window. “That’s my car!” he yelled and tore out of the apartment.

His heavy boots pounded the floor in the hallway as he ran to the parking lot. Jackie followed after him, leaving the door wide open.

I took the memory card out of my computer and held it in my palm. A noise out in the hall caught my attention.

“Jackie?” I poked my head out.

Without warning, a great weight crashed into me, knocking me to the floor. A hand reached for the memory card that had flown out of my hand. I lunged for it. A sharp smack across my cheek sent me flying again. I gasped as a steel toed shoe rammed into my stomach. The assailant snatched the memory card and dashed out the door. I heard his footsteps fade as he disappeared.

“Mel!” Jackie leaned over me. She and Greg helped me up.

I breathed deeply several times to get my breath back. “He took the card,” I said.

Greg pulled out his phone and called the cops. He and Jackie helped me to the couch.

“What happened?” asked Rachel reappearing.

“Where were you?” demanded Greg.

“I went after the car,” said Rachel, “but I lost the thief.”

“You should have stayed here,” scolded Greg, “Someone attacked Mel and took the memory card with our only evidence of your murder. Because of you—”

“Stop,” I interrupted. “It’s not her fault. Rachel, you might want to leave. The cops will be here soon.”

Rachel nodded in understanding and vanished.

A knock sounded at the door. The cops had arrived rather quickly. “You called about a break-in,” said a guy in uniform.

“Yes,” said Greg.

“Excuse me,” said a man in a suit. He was tall with a well-defined body shape. The man obviously worked out. “Detective Shorts,” he said, introducing himself. “I’ll handle this,” he said to the guys in uniform. He walked over to me and inspected the bruise forming on my cheek. “Name?”

“Mellow Summers, but everyone calls me Mel,” I replied.

“Do you need a paramedic?” he asked.

“I’ll be okay,” I said.

“Mickey,” he called a female officer over, “take pictures of her bruises. I’m sorry, ma’am, but we have to for evidence when we catch the intruder.”

I sat still and allowed Mickey to take pictures of my cheek and my stomach. I had more bruises than I originally thought.

“Now,” said Detective Shorts, “Tell me what happened.”

We relayed how someone had stolen Greg’s car, for which the police put an APB on. I explained that Jackie and Greg ran out to the parking lot to chase the car thief, leaving me alone in the apartment. Afterward, I gave a detailed account of the guy that broke in and knocked me around before leaving.

“Can you describe him?” asked the detective.

“No,” I said. “He was dressed in black and wore a ski mask.”

“Height?”

“About yours.”

“Build?”

I thought a moment. “I’d say about average build. He was strong, but like I said, with the mask, I didn’t get a good look at him. It happened so quickly.”

“Did he take anything?”

“The memory card.” The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop it.

“Memory card?” quizzed Detective Shorts.

“Yes, that’s what the guy took,” I said.

“Seems odd,” said the detective. “Most thieves go for jewels or things of value. Why would he take a memory card?”

“I don’t know,” I replied and glared at Jackie and Greg to remain silent. “I never got a chance to look at it.”

“Where did you get this memory card?”

“I found it on campus in the computer lab,” I said.

“By itself?”

I figured there would be no fooling the detective, but I didn’t want to tell him what was on the card because without it, how could I prove it? “I was at the computer lab on campus,” I said, “when I had to get something from the filing cabinet there. That’s when I noticed something sticking out of the carpet behind it. I picked it up and it was a phone. The phone was dead so I figured the memory card within it would tell me whose it was. So I brought it here to plug it into my laptop.”

“You have a laptop and you were at the computer lab on campus,” said the detective.

“Yeah, I needed to email someone and we don’t have the internet hooked up yet; and I don’t like carting my computer around,” I replied. It was true enough. I hated taking my laptop out of the apartment and we hadn’t gotten the internet hooked up. Detective Shorts seemed to have bought the story.

“You had a break-in before haven’t you?” asked Detective Shorts.

“Yes,” replied Jackie, “we came home soon after moving in and there was stuff everywhere.”

The detective made notes in his notepad. His expression remained unreadable. “All right, Miss Summers, we’ll put an APB on the car and put a description out on the intruder. However, since you can’t give me many details we may not catch him. I can have a patrol car drive by here for the next few days. If you remember anything, don’t hesitate to give me a call.” He handed me his card.

The police left after they finished taking pictures and dusting for prints. I knew they’d never find the guy. He was a professional who wanted only the memory card.

“I guess we’re at square one,” said Rachel, appearing from thin air. Greg and Jackie both jumped. Being used to her comings and goings, I barely noticed her.

“Not quite” I said. “We now know who killed you. We just need to prove it.”

“How do you propose to do that?” asked Greg.

“We’ll just have to follow Detective Reiss and Professor Vincent. I’d like to know what the connection is between the two,” I replied.

“Are you crazy?”

I looked at Greg. He thought I was nuts. Perhaps I was. “Look,” I said, “we have to do something. Those two have gotten away with murder and rape. I want to know how they know each and what they are involved in. We’ll have to have cameras with us at all times and if we can get something, then we’ll take it to Detective Shorts.”

“And what if he’s crooked?” asked Jackie.

“There has to be at least one honest cop in this town,” I said.

“How are we going to follow them and stay on top of our responsibilities?” asked Greg.

“We have a ghost,” I said. “Rachel, do you think you can keep tabs on them?”

“Certainly.” Rachel jumped at the chance.

“Follow their movements and find out their routine,” I said. “And if we’re lucky, we might be able to catch them on something.”

Jackie filled my shift the next couple of days at the Candle Shoppe so that I could take it easy. I appreciated it. Greg stopped by often to check up on me. I thought it was really sweet.

When I finally went back to work, I was glad to find that nothing had changed. The Candle Shoppe was not busy, which didn’t bother me. I busied myself, restocking some shelves and arranging the displays. The bell above the door rang and in walked Greg.

“For you,” he said, handing me a red rose.

I took the flower. It smelled wonderful. I gave him a hug.

The bell above the door rang again. Seven guys walked in all dressed in leather. I recognized them immediately as the bikers that I had stood up to at Zappy’s. My blood started pounding.

“You,” said the tall guy whose nose I had broken. “You broke my nose.”

“That was a while ago,” I said, “and you deserved it.” I could have kicked myself for that remark. Was I trying to get myself killed?

“Not many people stand up to me,” said the guy, “but you did. You got guts. I like that. My name’s Tiny.” He held out his hand.

I stared at him. Tiny? He was anything but tiny. I took his hand not wanting to offend him. “Mel,” I said, introducing myself.

“Well, Mel, I came down to apologize for my behavior,” said Tiny. “I normally don’t act like that. It took guts to do what you did. You now have a friend in this town.”

I wasn’t sure if I was grateful or frightened. I certainly was not trying to make friends when I broke Tiny’s nose.

Tiny noticed the fading bruise on my cheek. “Someone hit you? Did you beat her?” he turned on Greg. Tiny picked him up as though he weighed nothing.

“No, please,” I pleaded. “He didn’t do anything. Someone broke into my apartment when I was home a few days back. He was nowhere around when it happened. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mangle my boyfriend.”

Tiny eyed me a bit before putting Greg down. “You should take better care of your woman. Who was it?”

“Unfortunately, the guy was all in black and wore a ski mask,” I said. “The cops said they’d put a description out, but were less than hopeful about catching the guy.”

“The cops are useless,” said Tiny. “Hey, Sombrero”—a really tanned guy with tattoos all over his arms stepped forward—“put the word out. Anyone know anything about a break-in at Mel’s is to tell us right away.”

Sombrero left to carry out his orders.

“I don’t like people messing with my friends,” said Tiny. “We’ll find the guy. He’ll never bother you again.”

“Thanks,” I said. I didn’t want to know what Tiny had in mind.

“What’s going on here?” Mr. Stilton came out of his office. He looked at all of us. I had no way of explaining seven bikers in the shop. Fortunately, I didn’t have to.

“We’re here to buy some stuff,” said Tiny. He snatched the first thing closest to him. It turned out to be a heart shaped basket with romantic candles and perfume all tied with red and pink ribbons. It didn’t go with his leather, spikes, and tattoos.

I covered my mouth to keep from laughing. The others followed suit, each snatching the closest thing off a shelf. They went to the counter and I rang up the purchases. Mr. Stilton watched as I took their money and put it in the cash register.

“Let’s roll, boys,” said Tiny as they all left.

“I better go,” said Greg, giving me a peck on the cheek.

I went back to rearranging the displays when Mr. Stilton walked up behind me.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I heard about the break-in,” he said. He took the big, round candles out of my hands. “Take the rest of the day off,” he said, “I can handle the store. Fridays are usually slow around here.”

I thanked my boss and grabbed my things. Greg met me outside, holding all the stuff that Tiny and his friends had bought. “What…” I began.

“Tiny gave me all this and told me to take you out for a very romantic evening,” said Greg, answering my unspoken question.

The roar of motorcycles grabbed my attention. I glanced over and saw Tiny and his pals. He winked at me as they rode down the street.

“Of all the people to make friends with,” said Greg, “you just had to befriend the only biker gang in this town.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I said, weakly.

“Don’t sweat it,” replied Greg. “It could prove useful.”

I kissed Greg good-bye and told him I‘d meet up with him later. I decided to grab my camcorder from my car and go back to the college. I had a video assignment to do and wanted to get some filming in. My topic: college student life.

I stood just outside the student center with my camera going. After interviewing a bunch of other people eating their lunch, or just relaxing, I figured I had enough to do something with it. I knew this wasn’t Oscar winning material, but it would do for my class assignment. I just hoped that Professor Vincent would forget about the incident in the computer lab.

And speaking of Professor Vincent, I noticed him pop up on the LCD screen of my camera. Curiosity got the better of me. I zoomed in. He fidgeted as he stood in a secluded corner. His manner told me that something wasn’t right. He clearly did not want to be seen, or bothered, and he was obviously waiting for someone.

Detective Reiss walked into my screen. Intrigued, I zoomed in even more. What were they up to? The two talked a bit and then exchanged brown packages. I had watched enough CSI and detective shows to know that this couldn’t be good. I continued filming their exchange. It only lasted a couple of minutes before both parted and went separate ways. Odd, I thought.