Scraps of Evidence: Quilts of Love Series (10 page)

“Thanks. Is there any tea left?”

“Yeah. I’ll bring you a glass.”

When he returned, she was lying on her side. The quilt draped on the back of the sofa was now tucked around her. He set the glass on the coffee table before her, then sat down in the chair beside the sofa.

“Logan, what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

She frowned, pulled off the elastic band that she’d used to make her hair into a ponytail, and tossed it on the table. “I don’t know, some of it’s a blur,” she said after a moment. “I felt so weird just before I started throwing up. And I remember you asking me if I’d taken anything . . . if I was on something.”

Here it came. Logan ran his hands through his hair and didn’t look away from her direct stare. “I’m sorry. I had to ask.”

She sat up and pulled the quilt around her shoulders. “You can’t think I do drugs.”

“No, Tess. You’d be the last person I’d think did that.”

“Because we could never work together if you thought that,” she said. “You know that. We have to be able to trust each other.”

She flopped back onto the sofa and put her arm over her eyes. “Well, I know I didn’t, but it sure felt like something was wrong. That wasn’t like any motion sickness I’ve ever had.”

“The doctor told me he could run some tests, but he thought it was just a bad case of motion sickness. If it was food poisoning, you wouldn’t have started feeling better.”

“And if it was food poisoning, you’d have gotten sick, too.”

He nodded. “Why don’t you drink your tea and then try to get some rest?”

“Strange afternoon.”

“You got that right.”

She finished the tea, lay back down, and almost instantly fell asleep. Logan watched her and thought about how he’d felt holding her in his arms.

11

H
ave you always been like this?”

Logan shuffled through some folders on his desk and pulled out a paper. “Like what?” He got up, walked over to the photocopier, and made some copies.

“A soft touch. An easy mark.” She paused. “A sucker.”

“As I remember it, you bought more boxes of Girl Scout cookies than I did.” He shuffled the folders on his desk, shoved them in a drawer, and locked it. “C’mon, we’re gonna go look for a dog.”

She logged out of her computer and stood. “Since when are we Animal Control?”

“They’re looking, too. I got a call while you were sneaking that candy bar the high school girl was selling for the homeless shelter fundraiser.”

“I did not sneak a candy bar. I’m a grown woman. If I want a candy bar, I’ll have one.”

“Yeah, right. I saw you sneaking Girl Scout cookies earlier.”

“Thin Mints are addictive,” she muttered. “Someone oughta be arrested for inventing them. And even if I bought more boxes than you did, you’ve bought everything else. Tickets for pancake breakfasts and spaghetti suppers and sponsorships for charity walks. I bet every parent in this building knows they can come to you with some fundraiser and out comes your wallet.”

“I bet I know everyone in this building already, and I’ve only been here for a few weeks.”

He had her there. In a very short time, he’d met nearly everyone and had made friends with several men. He was even playing on the department basketball league.

“So what did you buy this time?” she asked curiously. “I saw Ed talking to you and money exchanged hands.”

He pulled two tickets from his shirt pocket and waved them at her. “Maybe I’ll take someone else.”

She snatched at the tickets. “What are they for? A charity ball? That chocolate benefit?”

“Something even better. The historical society event.”

Tess stopped dead in her tracks. “You want to go on a tour of the local cemeteries?”

“Why not? I’ve just seen some from a distance since I got here, and they look interesting. Besides, it’s for a good cause, right?”

Laughing, she shook her head and followed him to the car. “Right. I just didn’t picture you as the type to be interested in that sort of thing.”

“I love history.”

“History we’ve got,” she said. “And ghost stories galore.”

“So, you going to go with me?” he asked. “Be my ghoulfriend?”

She rolled her eyes, but she nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

By mutual agreement, they lowered the windows in the car. Fall was finally on its way after a long, hot summer. Volunteers were unloading a truckload of pumpkins at the church on the corner.

“We don’t have time to stop,” she warned. “And what do you need a pumpkin for, anyway?”

“Spoilsport. I was thinking we could take one to Mrs. Ramsey.”

She softened. “That’s nice of you to think of her.”

They’d made two more trips to check for break-ins at her house. Feeling restless, she tapped her notepad on her knee.

“I’m thinking we should do another canvas of the neighbors around Toni’s house.”

“Good idea.”

“You don’t sound like you think it’s a good idea. What’s the matter?”

“How many times can we question people and go over our notes and the evidence? We haven’t had any new leads in weeks. We’re stalled.”

“That’s the way it is sometimes.”

“I don’t have your patience.”

“Yes, you do, or you wouldn’t have pursued Sam’s case for so long.” He shrugged. “I’m not feeling particularly patient.” He pulled into the driveway of the house. “Let’s take another walk-through of the house.”

Maria had told them the house was going back to the bank next month. She’d been there going through her sister’s things, boxing them up, and doing some cleaning.

Tess looked into a box sitting on the kitchen counter. Tupperware containers. She felt an instant stab of guilt. She hadn’t returned the ones her aunt had used to pack the picnic food. People got really attached to their Tupperware, and her aunt was no exception. She might have thought it was a little nutty, but Aunt Kathy had told her Oprah’s aunt had once claimed her niece had come asking for the containers she’d brought over for a family dinner. Tess made a mental note to take the containers to her aunt the next day when she went to her quilting class.

She walked into the living room and found Logan standing there near the spot where Toni’s body was discovered.

“Let’s do a last canvas of the immediate neighbors,” he said. “Why don’t you take the neighbor to the right, I’ll take the one to the left.”

Tess knocked at the door of her interview but the woman, an elderly retired nurse, didn’t remember anything more than she had the afternoon Tess had talked to her.

Logan had more luck. “No new information, but I thanked him for calling Animal Control about the missing Chihuahua he saw hanging around the neighborhood a few days after the murder. He didn’t have any luck getting close enough to catch him.”

“Maria would be glad to have him found,” Tess said. “I think it would be like having a little of her sister back.”

“Well, maybe we’ll get lucky today.”

They drove around the neighborhood keeping an eye out for Paco. Tess saw a few posters Maria had put up on utility poles.

“There’s a convenience store around the corner. Let’s go in there and ask if they’ve seen Paco.”

“Good idea.”

Tess carried the poster in, showed her badge to the clerk, and asked him if he’d seen the dog. Logan went to the self-serve drink machine for sweet tea.

“Hey, that’s the dog the homeless guy brought in a little while ago,” the clerk said. “I told him no dogs were allowed, but he said it was too hot to leave him outside. I gave in, said he could bring him in if he carried him.”

She pulled out her notepad. “Can you describe him?”

“The dog or the man?” the clerk asked, chuckling.

Logan set the drinks on the counter. “The man, wise guy.”

The clerk’s smile faded. He looked at Tess. “He with you?”

“Yeah. He’s got a badge and everything.”

“He might still be hanging around out back. Sometimes he takes a rest back there.”

“So he’s in the neighborhood on a regular basis?”

The clerk took Logan’s money and rang up the sale. “Yeah. For maybe the last four or five months.”

So they walked out of the store and around back.

And Tess nearly tripped over the man with the Chihuahua sitting on his lap.

Logan didn’t know who was more startled—the humans or the Chihuahua when they encountered each other.

Paco the Chihuahua jumped up on the man’s lap and began growling.

“Shh, it’s okay, buddy,” he said, soothing the dog and holding it when the dog tried to lunge forward.

“Careful,” Logan cautioned and reached for Tess’s arm to keep her from going forward quickly and getting herself bitten.

The man got to his feet with some effort—holding the dog as well as a dilapidated knapsack that had seen better days. Logan judged him to be in his forties, but he looked older with the inevitable windburn and sunburn Logan noticed on the homeless in this part of the country. He must have been out in the elements for some time.

“Buddy here won’t hurt you,” he said. “He’s just scared.”

“I’m Logan, and this is Tess,” he told the man. “What’s your name?”

“Jim,” the man said with a touch of belligerence.

“Jim, where did you get the dog?” Tess asked quietly.

“He’s mine,” the man asserted.

“You’re sure?”

“Finders keepers,” the man said, backing down a little. “I saw him wandering around the neighborhood for several days. If someone owns him, they need to take care of him. It’s not easy being on the streets.”

Logan nodded. “You’re right. No one should let their dog roam the streets. But we think we know who the dog belongs to, and they didn’t let the dog out. Someone else did. We’d like to ask you some questions.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong. You can’t arrest me for just being homeless.”

“We’re not,” Logan said quietly, standing still, and not making any sudden moves to alarm the man or the dog. “We just want to ask you some questions.”

“Be right back,” Tess said, backing away.

He nodded, not looking at her. He didn’t think the man was armed, but he’d learned not to make assumptions.

Tess was back in no time, holding a hot dog from the convenience store. She broke off a bite and offered it cautiously to the dog.

From the way the man watched the process, Logan could make one assumption: the man hadn’t eaten in a while. He glanced at Tess, and she nodded. After she fed the dog half of the hot dog, she wrapped it back up.

“It’s awfully hot out here,” Tess said. “Not good for man or dog. Let’s go take care of those questions and get out of the sun.”

She held out her arms. “Can Paco ride with me?”

“Paco? That’s his name?”

Tess nodded. “Someone’s been frantic worrying about him. She’ll be so grateful you took care of him.”

The man handed Paco to Tess, and Logan was relieved to see that the dog was licking her fingers instead of biting them, his tail wagging madly.

“Logan and I are way past due for lunch,” she told Jim. “We’ll stop and get something on the way. Tell me what kind of sub and drink we can get you.”

The man drew himself up. “You don’t need to feel sorry for me.”

“Jim, were you raised in the South?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Then you know we don’t eat in front of someone without offering him some of what we’re having.”

She shot a look at Logan. “Even though he’s a Yankee, I bet Logan was raised the same way.”

The man studied her for a moment, then grinned. “Okay. Ham and cheese and a root beer?”

“Sounds good. We’ll meet you there soon as we pick up the food.”

She signaled and a marked car pulled up. “Don’t worry, Officer Graham here is just giving you a ride into the station for questioning. He has to make sure you don’t have any weapons, okay?”

Jim held up his hands and submitted to the check. “I carry a pocketknife.”

“Lots of men in these parts do,” she said, nodding. “You grow up a boy in the South you have to have a pocketknife for fishing and hunting. Don’t know what boys in Chicago carry. Logan? Brass knuckles?”

“Very funny,” Logan told her. He waited until Jim, then Graham got into the car and drove away, before he started around the store to their car. “What’s your impression?”

“We have a problem with the homeless here just like other cities,” Tess told him as she got into the car. “But you know the homeless don’t commit violent crimes any more than the rest of the population. Let’s face it, when you’re trying to take care of basic needs you don’t have much time to plot out a crime.”

They drove to a sub shop, picked up three foot-longs and drinks, and continued on to the station.

The minute they walked into the station Maria came rushing toward them, tears streaming down her face. “Paco! You found him!”

Logan watched Tess struggle to hold the dog and keep him from flying out of her arms. She gave Maria the dog and then stood back, blinking hard as she watched Maria cry over the dog.

Could dogs cry? Logan wondered. It sure looked like Paco had tears in his eyes.

He must need his own eyes examined, he told himself.

Maria turned and thanked them before she hurried down the hallway. A moment later they heard high-pitched, frantic barking, and a familiar voice bellowing to restrain the dog and get it out of the station.

“That’s Gordon,” Tess said and hurried down the hall.

Logan followed her, carrying the subs and drinks. They found Maria holding Paco as Gordon backed away and went into one of the interrogation rooms and slammed the door.

“I don’t know what got into Paco,” Maria said, trying to soothe the dog.

“Shh, Paco,” Tess said and she reached into her pocket for the portion of the hot dog left from earlier. “I’m sure he’s just a little unsettled about everything being so different.”

The dog quickly scarfed down the rest of the hot dog. Tess looked at Maria. “I hope he doesn’t get sick from this, but I got it for him earlier.”

“He can barf all over the seat of my car for all I care.” Maria kissed the top of the dog’s head. “I’m going to go ask my boss if I can get off early and take him home.”

Tess opened the door of the interrogation room since Logan’s hands were full with lunch. He put the food down on the table.

“Hi, Gordon,” Logan said. “I didn’t realize that you were joining us. Have you had lunch?”

“Yes, thanks. But I’m not joining you. I was just keeping Jim company until you two got here.”

He stood. “See y’all around.”

Logan sat and watched Jim watch Gordon leave the room. Jim’s forehead appeared beaded with sweat when it hadn’t been as he sat out behind the convenience store. His hands trembled as he popped the top of his root beer and took a deep swallow.

“I swear, I’m always thirsty here,” Logan said as he popped the top of his own Coke. “All this sun dehydrates me.”

Tess popped the top of her Diet Coke and pulled out her notepad. “Better to sweat than to freeze, right, Jim? You couldn’t pay me enough to live someplace like Logan’s beloved Chicago.”