On a Killer's Trail (6 page)

“I’ll do it.”

“Would you? That would be terrific. Kate can show you where I want it.”

She gave them instructions, and Kate and Neil managed to carry everything up and stow it in a closet.

Kate was beautiful, Neil decided anew—even in jeans and a Skowhegan Indians sweatshirt. Her cheeks were a little flushed, and her eyes glittered as she pushed bags up onto the shelf and stacked boxes on the closet floor. A package of bows fell off the shelf and hit her on the head. She laughed and stooped to pick it up. He laughed, too, took it from her and flung it hard up onto the back of the shelf.

“Guess we wouldn’t make very good elves,” she said.

“Nope. Elves have been tossed out of the North Pole for squishing bows. Get your stories done?”

“Yes. I would have liked a little more detail on the Riley case. Connor told me about Mrs. Riley’s will.”

“What about her will? I haven’t had a chance to talk to Connor about that.”

“Mrs. Riley had some money of her own. She left bequests to a couple of her favorite charities, and the rest will revert to her husband.”

“How much?”

Kate shrugged. “Not much, as estates go. I believe she left ten thousand dollars to her garden club, another ten thousand to the animal shelter and about thirty thousand to her husband. It’s in my notebook, but I’m pretty sure those were the figures.”

“Hmm. Probably more than Theodore Hepburn’s estate is worth. Hey, Kate?”

“Yeah?” She looked up at him with those big, deep blue eyes and something clutched in his stomach.

“I didn’t mean to snub you today.”

“No problem. We’re both professionals. I knew you were busy.”

They went down the stairs and discovered that Connor was home. His briefcase sat on the kitchen floor at his feet, and he was holding Matthew in one arm and kissing Adrienne passionately. Neil pulled Kate back into the living room and said, “Maybe we should just give Santa and Mrs. Claus a minute to say hello.”

Kate laughed again, a wonderful sound that warmed him all the way through. What had he lost when he’d pushed their relationship too fast last summer? He plugged in the Christmas tree lights and went over to the CD player. “Want some music?”

“Sure. How about Christmas carols?”

They sorted through the CDs, and Kate picked one that was all instrumental carols and put it on.

“Did you get to the press conference at the police station?” Neil asked.

“Yes, but I already knew most of the information they released. I did get a couple of questions in, but I got more from what you told me than I did from the official spokesman.”

“Glad I could help you. We should have more tomorrow, though. Today was kind of a plodding day. It takes time to slog
through the evidence and interviews.” He looked toward the doorway. “Think it’s safe now?”

Kate peeked around the doorjamb and through the sunroom at the kitchen. “Can’t see anybody.”

“Maybe we should just make noise and go on in,” Neil said.

They went to the kitchen door and he said loudly, “So, Connor, how’d it go on the Riley case?”

Connor was leaning against the counter in the corner where the telephone hung, holding Matthew and watching Adrienne make salad. Her hair was all loose and swung down her back, below her hips. Neil was sure it had been in a ponytail when he’d arrived.

“Not bad,” Connor said. “We’ll need to compare notes in the morning and see how many similarities the two cases have.”

“Locked houses, for one thing,” Neil said.

“Really? Not an open window upstairs?”

“No. Not that.”

“Did you have the guys lift prints?” Connor asked.

“Yeah, all over the kitchen.”

Connor looked at Kate. “So, how are you doing today, ace reporter?”

She smiled. “Not bad. I managed to write a stellar update on the Riley case and a brilliant piece on the Hepburn murder, thanks to Neil.”

He returned her smile. It felt good not to be an outcast any longer.

They sat down to supper, and afterward played Rook at the kitchen table. Neil told them about the cats and had them all laughing over the detectives’ wild feline chase. By nine o’clock, he felt he should leave, although he enjoyed sitting beside Kate and laughing over nothing. He hadn’t had so much fun in ages. But Adrienne looked tired, and Connor was drooping a little, too. When the round ended, he said, “I’d better get going. I’ll see you tomorrow, Connor.”

“Good night, Neil.”

Kate got up and walked toward the entry with Neil.

“So, will I see you again soon?” he asked.

Kate looked away, but she was smiling.

“What?” Neil asked.

“I have a feeling you’re going to see a lot of me. I decided to move in here. Tomorrow after work I’m going to bring some of my stuff over. I think I can bring a little every day and be all moved by the end of the week. I told my roommates, and they didn’t pout and beg me to stay.”

“You’re too mature for them.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, and I didn’t ask for a refund on the next month’s rent I already gave them.”

“Hey, I could help you with my truck.”

“That’s okay. But thanks.”

“All right.” Take it slow and easy, he reminded himself. “So, I guess I’ll see you sometime.”

“Maybe Wednesday,” she said. “I really like Connor and Adrienne’s church, and if they go to prayer meeting on Wednesday, I think I’ll go with them. And I’ll probably be hounding you for updates on the homicides.”

“Right.” Neil zipped his coat and said good-night with a smile.

Neil and Connor hashed over the two cases over steaming cups of black coffee early the next morning at the station.

“Mr. Hepburn was found lying in his kitchen by his neighbor, Mrs. Poulin,” Neil said. “She tried to call him Saturday to tell him one of his cats was after the birds at her feeder, and got no answer. Yesterday, she tried again and still no answer, so she went over. No one came to the door, and she looked in a window and saw him lying there and called it in. Small-caliber gunshot to the heart. No weapon found in the house. All doors and windows locked.”

“Robbery?” Connor asked.

“Don’t think so. His wallet was on his dresser. He lived alone,
but his sister lives in town, and his children have been notified. The oldest daughter should arrive today.”

“Where are you heading with it now?”

“The usual,” Neil said. “We’ll run the ballistics and the fingerprints, question the neighbors, look for a motive. Do you think these two cases are related?”

“That question came up at yesterday’s press conference. They look alike in several ways, but it’s too soon to be sure.”

Chief Mike Crowley came in through the door that led to the stairway and walked over to Connor’s desk.

“You guys ready for an early prayer meeting? I’ve got to spend a couple of hours with the new deputy chief this morning, and I didn’t want to go into it without prayer.”

The new deputy had started his job in Portland the day before. Mike had been without a deputy for several months and was hoping the new man, Jack Plourde, could take some of the pressure off him. Plourde’s résumé looked good, but he was still an unknown quantity.

They went into the break room, and the three of them prayed about Plourde and the homicide cases, and for Adrienne’s health and the baby’s. Neil prayed for wisdom in trying to talk to his family about his savior.

When Mike left them, Connor said to Neil, “Adrienne and I are supposed to have our last Lamaze class tonight, but she’s not feeling great.”

“Uh, that would be natural childbirth lessons?” Not exactly a topic Neil was well versed in.

“Right. To help Adrienne when she delivers the baby.”

“And you’re doing this voluntarily?”

Connor smiled. “Of course. I want to be there when it happens. The classes teach the father what to do to help the mother.”

“What, like getting the doctor to put her to sleep?”

Connor laughed. “I don’t expect you to understand this yet, Neil. The whole pregnancy thing is an adventure. I want to be part of every phase, including the birth. The baby is God’s gift to us.”

“I know, Connor, but isn’t it kind of…”

“What?”

“Oh, I dunno.” What did it seem like? Embarrassing? Alarming? Frightening?

“No, it’s not. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not. It’s fantastic.”

“If you say so. Did you take these classes before Matthew was born?”

“No, but Adri and I both wish we had.”

Neil nodded. “I just can’t see what’s so appealing about a roomful of pregnant women sitting around telling you how rotten they feel.”

“I’ll remind you someday that you said that.” Connor sighed. “I feel like I’m at a dead end on the Riley case. We’ve pretty much ruled out Gerald Riley, and I don’t have any other suspects.”

“I know what you mean. But you always tell me to keep on following the evidence. Something will break.”

The elevator moaned and the doors opened. Kate Richards stepped off, looking sophisticated in a gray skirt suit and high heels. Neil leaped to his feet, finding it slightly hard to breathe. He’d thought he was beyond being dazzled by a woman. Apparently not.

Connor stood, too. “Hello, Kate. You found us all right.”

“No problem.” She smiled at Neil. “Hi.”

Connor said, “The city editor called this morning and asked if I’d give Kate a few minutes for an exclusive interview.”

“Wow. That’s great.”

“Kate’s editor was so impressed with the stories she did over the weekend that he wants an in-depth piece about our unit.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting your investigation,” Kate said.

“No,” Neil said. “We were just talking about the Riley case.”

“That’s right.” Connor looked toward the windows. A few snowflakes fluttered down outside, but it didn’t look serious. “We don’t think Mr. Riley killed his wife, largely for two reasons. We didn’t find any gunshot residue on him, and we haven’t found the weapon.”

Kate nodded. “I hear you. If he did it, how did he get rid of the gun?”

“And if he did do it, we should have found residue on his hands and his clothes,” Connor added.

“Even if he washed his hands and changed his clothes?” Kate asked.

“Yeah,” Neil said. “Most people don’t get it off when they wash up, and we checked all his laundry for that very reason.”

Connor lifted his hands in resignation. “It had to be an outsider.”

“But why would an outsider do that?” Neil asked. “Why would he go into someone’s house on Christmas Day, shoot an old lady, not steal anything, go out and lock the door, leaving her lying on the floor by a loaded Christmas tree?”

“Were the Christmas presents opened?” Kate said.

“What?” Neil asked.

“The Rileys’ Christmas packages. The gun could be in one of them. Did you open them when you searched the house?”

“O
h, come on. That’s too…” Neil stopped. He and Connor looked at each other. “You know the gun went out the door with the shooter, Connor.”

“
If
he went out the door. If he stayed, maybe the gun stayed.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Go open the gifts.”

“Oh, come on. We both know Gerald Riley didn’t do it.”

“I’ll keep wondering about him if you don’t do this. Take another officer with you. I’ll call Brad. Take some tape and seal them up again after. And be very careful with the paper. I’ve got to go do this interview with Kate. Do it now, Neil.” Connor picked up his phone and called downstairs, asking the day patrol sergeant for a uniformed officer to work on the detail.

Neil knew sputtering would do no good, so he put on his jacket.

“Kate, let’s go into our interview room,” Connor said. “I’ll get us some coffee, and we—” His phone rang, and he picked it up with a grimace. “Sorry.”

Kate smiled and shrugged.

“What?” Connor asked, an urgency creeping into his voice. “Okay. Yeah. Are you all right? I’ll be there in…” He glanced at his watch. “Twenty minutes. Got it.” He hung up. “I’m sorry, Kate, but it looks like we’ll have to reschedule. Adri’s water broke. I’m meeting her at the hospital.”

Kate’s jaw dropped. “She’s not supposed to go for another three weeks.”

“I know. Tell that to the baby.” Connor grabbed his coat.

Kate chased him to the stairway door. “What about Matthew? Should I go home?”

“No, Adri said the pastor’s wife is picking him up and driving her to the hospital. I’ll call you later.”

“Should I come with you?”

“Well, it could take hours. I’ll see you there later.”

The door shut behind him. Kate turned and looked at Neil. “Now what?”

Neil wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I don’t suppose you feel like unwrapping gifts?”

She laughed. “Might as well, if you’re sure I’m allowed.”

“Well, it’s not officially a crime scene anymore. If the Riley family is at the house, I’ll just ask their permission to look around again.”

The house was still empty, and Neil felt a little bit like a trespasser as they entered. He opened the first gift with trepidation. A cordless drill. He tried to put the paper back on exactly the way it had been, but he couldn’t make the edges fold right.

“Hey, why don’t you let me do that?” Kate asked. “You open them, I’ll wrap them up again.”

“Great idea.”

An hour later, all of the gifts had been opened, checked and rewrapped for nothing.

“Sorry.” Kate stared mournfully at the heap of packages. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“That’s okay,” Neil said. “At least we’ve been thorough. Let’s get some lunch.”

They stopped at a fast food place for burgers. Kate left him to return to the newspaper office afterward, and Neil went back to the station.

Tony Carlisle was running the ballistics on the Hepburn case. “Neil, can you come look at this?” There was an edge to Tony’s voice.

Neil went over and stood behind him. “Did you match it to a gun?”

“No, but it brought up the images from the bullet you ran yesterday. Look.” He toggled between them. “Riley. Hepburn. Riley. Hepburn.”

“Yikes.” They had the same configuration. The same groove on one side. There wasn’t any doubt. It was a definite match.

Neil called Connor’s cell phone.

“The bullets match but we still don’t have a weapon,” he told Connor.

“No, but we’ll get one. Tell Tony I said good work. At least now we know these two murders were committed with the same gun.”

“Right,” Neil said. “How’s Adri doing?”

“Okay. Slow progress.”

Neil didn’t think he wanted any more details. He hung up and checked on what the other detectives had learned.

“Do you have a time of death on Hepburn?” he asked Jimmy Cook.

“Between five and nine p.m. Sunday night.”

“And Mrs. Riley died between eight and nine a.m. Saturday.” Neil sat down in his chair and leaned back, thinking about that.

“Tony mentioned there might be a witness,” Jimmy said.

Tony shook his head. “Some girl saw a guy walk down the street Sunday evening. Nothing, really. She couldn’t describe him, and there was no reason to think it was peculiar. It was about five-thirty, and I suppose it could be significant.”

Neil nodded. “Harry and Lance are still canvassing the neighborhood, trying to find someone else who saw him.”

“Was this Hepburn rich?” Jimmy asked.

“No. Definitely middle-class. His house was appraised at a hundred and thirty thousand, but I think most of that was for the location. It’s not in very good shape. His furniture was run-down, utilitarian stuff. I saw his checkbook. Three-hundred-dollar balance, checks this month for phone and lights, insurance, one credit card. Not a big spender, for sure.”

“The Rileys were pretty well off,” Tony said.

Jimmy threw Neil a sympathetic look. “Too bad you had to unwrap all the packages.”

Tony chuckled. “Yeah, Kate Richards is pretty, but I don’t think she’s so brilliant. Come on, a killer wrapping up a gun in a Christmas present?”

Neil shrugged. “It’s okay. We should have checked them anyway. And we know for sure now the gun didn’t stay in Riley’s house.” He had a sudden thought that made him want to scream. “Oh, no.”

“What?” Jimmy asked.

“What if the shooter stole one of the packages?”

Tony and Jimmy stared at him for a moment.

“No,” Tony said. “Kate sent you off on one wild-goose chase. We’re not going down another road to nowhere.”

“Thank you,” Neil said.

“You’re welcome.”

“I suppose we could ask Mr. Riley if any are missing, just in case.”

Neil reviewed Mrs. Riley’s medical records and obituary. He opened his notebook and went over the information they’d taken from the family.

Everyone loved Edna Riley. She attended garden club and volunteered for medical causes and fund-raisers for the Animal Protection Society. She collected money for breast cancer research and walked dogs for the shelter. She’d worked for a few years as a typist in the dean’s office at the college where her husband had taught, but hadn’t worked outside the home in years. Neil felt he was spinning his wheels. She was just a sweet old grandma, and Mr. Hepburn was an old man who liked cats. So who would kill them?

At eight that evening, Neil laid down his latest
Police
magazine to answer his ringing cell phone.

“Hey, Neil, it’s Connor. It’s a girl.”

“Congratulations!” Neil grinned. “What’s her name?”

“Hailey. Or Chloe. We can’t decide.”

“Well, you’ve had nine months.” Neil chuckled. If it were up to Connor, the decision would probably have been made long ago. “How is everybody?”

“Adri’s fine. The baby’s a little jaundiced. They may keep her an extra day. I think I’ll take tomorrow off and bring Matt in to see his mom. If the baby’s doing better, she can come home, but if not, we’ll just leave her and Adri both here in the hospital another night.”

Neil gulped. “Okay. What should I be doing?”

“The same thing you do every day. Just ride herd on the boys and make sure they do their paperwork. Especially Carlisle. He’s got a great mind, but he leans toward lazy sometimes.”

“Yeah. Uh…is there anything I can do for you and Adri?”

“I don’t think so,” Connor said. “Kate picked Matthew up from the pastor’s house, and she’s staying with him tonight. I’ll stay here with Adri tonight. I might take the rest of the week off.”

Neil’s stomach dropped. Taking over a case was one thing, and being in charge while Connor took an afternoon off hadn’t been so bad. But three more days? He reminded himself that when Connor took vacation this year, he’d have to stand in for the captain. As of Monday, Neil would be the senior detective. Might as well start acting like it.

“Hey, I think you should.”
Did I just say that?

“Really?”

“Sure.” Neil cleared his throat. “We’ve got everything under control.”

“Did you check those packages?”

“Yeah, nothing suspicious in them. You go ahead and take some time off. You need time with Adri, and when the baby comes home, you’ll be short on sleep anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.” Neil gritted his teeth.
Lord, help me not to regret this.

Kate sat at her desk Friday, staring with unfocused eyes at her notebook. No matter how many times she went over her notes, nothing new popped out at her. But the city editor wanted another major story on the Riley case by five o’clock.

On Wednesday, Neil had given her the news that the ballistics tests matched the bullets in the Riley and Hepburn cases. Kate had written up the story and a sidebar in which she explained the IBIS system, courtesy of Neil’s buddy Tony Carlisle. Tony had seemed delighted to give her a demonstration and answer her questions. He’d also asked her for a date, which Kate had declined. Tony seemed like the kind who didn’t take anything seriously outside his job. Not her type, though she’d enjoyed the hour she spent interviewing him.

Thursday she’d gotten by with a brief update.
Nothing new in the Riley and Hepburn murder cases, according to Detective Neil Alexander, chief investigator….
She couldn’t get away with that again today, even though she’d turned in two other stories unrelated to the murders. She felt her stock was falling rapidly at the
Press Herald
.

In desperation, she decided to call the president of Edna Riley’s garden club. Maybe some of the club members would share poignant memories of Edna. If that didn’t work, she could try the animal shelter, where Edna had volunteered.

Kate sighed. It was fluff, and she knew it. Maybe she could call Ted Hepburn’s sister, although she shrank from doing that. Fishing for leads from a woman whose brother had just been murdered seemed a little crass. She wanted a good, meaty article that would give the readers something new and solid. She’d also been assigned to copy the police blotter for the next day’s paper. Ordinarily, she would have put that off until her other stories were finished, but on impulse, she decided to drive to the police station right away and get that chore done. Maybe she could touch base with Neil or Tony in person, get some brilliant new information on the murder cases and watch her stock rise again.

Neil had worked on the homicides all week, but seemed no closer to solving them. It was Harry Fowler’s last day, and everyone seemed to think they should knock off early for his retirement party.

“Detective Alexander, Miss Richards is on line one.”

The secretary’s alert left him a bit annoyed and yet slightly hopeful—annoyed because Kate called frequently, wanting updates on the cases when he wasn’t prepared, and hopeful because she seemed willing to overlook his past indiscretions. A part of him hoped she was calling because she wanted to talk to him.

Okay, he’d admit it—he missed her. Beyond the intense physical attraction he’d felt when he first met her, he’d seen a sweet determination he admired. He’d made the mistake of treating her like he had a hundred other girls, and expecting her to respond as they would. But Kate was a Christian. She’d enjoyed being with him, that was obvious. She’d seen him nearly every night for two weeks, against her sister’s warnings. But when he’d pushed her to take the relationship beyond her comfort zone, Kate’s faith had kicked in. At the time, he’d laughed and said she was too inhibited. She’d pleaded with him to take it slowly. Why hadn’t he listened? Instead he’d said some cruel things. The blowup that followed shocked him. Not only had Kate walked away in tears and returned to Skowhegan the next day, but Connor had come after him and warned him strongly to keep away from his sister-in-law—this coming from his captain and friend. The pain he’d caused others had brought Neil up short and forced him to reconsider his own lifestyle.

Connor had witnessed to him dozens of times before, but Neil had laughed it off and told him, “Maybe later, when I’ve had my kicks.” But the month of July was a watershed, when he’d seen himself from God’s perspective.

He wanted to do things God’s way now that he was saved, but his confidence in the romance department had plummeted. He’d done everything wrong before. How could he learn to do it right?

He took a deep breath and picked up his phone. “Hi, Kate. How you doing?”

“Hey, Neil. I’m fine. I’m downstairs at the patrol sergeant’s desk, actually.”

“Oh?” Neil put his hand to his forehead. How could he get out of inviting her up to the office for a chat? He didn’t need a reporter chat right now, and looking into those huge blue eyes would probably just distract him for the rest of the day.

“I’ve just been going over the police log for the paper, and I saw something kind of weird. Did you hear about the cat shooting yesterday?”