Murder Is Where the Heart Is Page 4

  Pepper agreed. I knew she had a deep hatred of Doug, going back to her high school days, but she would never tell me not to look into a murder or offer to help solve one.

  I aspired to having my own private investigation business one day. I could take four years of college courses, or I could get my experience under a mentor. I chose learning on the job with a mentor, and Jackie had hooked me up with Arnold Baranski of A.B. Investigations. He planned to retire in a few years and was more than willing to have me do his legwork while he trained me.

  Pepper and Jackie had helped me stick my nose in three other murders, and I couldn’t imagine having a business without their help. I was already referring to my future business as Two Sisters and a Journalist. By the time I hung out my shingle, everyone in town would know who we were.

  “What are you doing today?” I asked.

  “I’m going to start laundry soon. This afternoon, I’m taking the kids over to Mama’s. They’re reading a classic every month for school this year, and right now, they’re reading Tom Sawyer. They think painting a fence sounds like fun, so they’re going to paint Mama’s fence around the back yard. I give them fifteen minutes before they’re whining, but because they’ve already told Mama they’d do it, they’re going to have to finish.”

  I smiled. I was glad I wouldn’t be there to witness Mama’s overseeing of the project and the kids’ wailing when they realized it was harder and more boring than they thought it would be. Tom Sawyer didn’t convince the other kids to do his work for nothing.

  “What are your plans?” she asked.

  “I have to go down to the station this afternoon and give a proper statement about what happened yesterday. I think I should find out if I can sue the police department for tasing me.”

  “Did it hurt?” she asked.

  “It did, but in a weird way. It wasn’t like someone punched me or stabbed me. It was one big whole-body pain all at once. It didn’t last long. My leg’s sore today though. It feels like a wasp stung me where the prongs went in.” I instinctively rubbed my thigh.

  I was still irritated Officer Collins wouldn’t listen to me, and that he felt it was appropriate to use a taser. Glenn sticking up for him added insult to my very real injury.

  It was as though Pepper read my mind. “How did Glenn react to what happened to you?”

  “He said Collins was just doing his job.” I shrugged my shoulders and made a face, letting her think I didn’t care.

  Pepper was quick to pounce on my expression. “Jo, what’s going on? Please don’t tell me you’re going cold on Glenn already. He’s so nice, and I think he’s a good match for you. What’s the problem?”

  I smiled. “I’m not cold on him. Not yet. When we’re together, I’m fine. He’s a great guy. I just have a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that this isn’t going to work. I think I want someone older and more mature who’s established and has some stability. Marrying a police officer would set me up for a lifetime of worry that he’ll die in the line of duty.”

  Pepper waved her hand to dismiss the idea. “That’s nonsense. Anybody can die at any time. Buck could have an accident every time he’s out on the road, but I don’t sit at home and worry about him. He’s experienced and he knows what he’s doing. I trust him to be careful and take care of himself while he’s out there. You have to trust that Glenn knows what he’s doing, too. Besides, you had all that older man stuff when you were married to Alan, and look what that got you.”

  She was right about that. Alan was four years older than I was, and he had sometimes treated me like a child. He had been terribly judgmental about my weight gain, and he was shallow enough to leave me for his present wife who was a thin, model type. By the time I stopped gaining weight after the divorce, I had amassed an extra sixty pounds.

  Pepper had always been short and chunky, but carrying extra weight was something I had never dealt with before. Losing ten pounds recently was a big step for me in feeling better about myself and regaining some of my self-confidence.

  “Glenn did clean vomit out of my hair last night,” I told her.

  We stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. It was the best reason I had given yet for continuing to date Glenn.

  We talked a few more minutes before I grabbed my newspaper and left her to her laundry. I slowly made my way back across the cul-de-sac. It was another beautiful fall day without humidity to mar it.

  I stood in my foyer, unsure of which direction to go. I felt restless. Cleaning was out of the question. I had no desire to clean. If I sat down to watch television, I would go back to sleep, and I didn’t want to sleep my Sunday away. I think I knew in the back of my mind what I wanted to do all along.

  The kitchen was my first stop. I made coffee and read Jackie’s article more closely while waiting for the pot to fill. She had covered the events of the evening well, and although fact-based, her style of writing made the story riveting. She definitely had a talent. Other than her husband, I was the only one who knew she was secretly writing a novel - a crime thriller. I had a strong feeling she was going to be famous one day.

  I poured a cup of coffee and headed upstairs to the spare room at the end of the hallway. The room was above the garage, setting it off from the two bedrooms and a bathroom. Alan had used the room for a late-night television room, but I had repainted and carpeted the room in brighter colors and furnished it with a desk, loveseat, and credenza. A large whiteboard hung on one wall. I referred to the room as the murder room. It was here where I did most of my thinking when trying to solve the previous murders - and now when working on cases for Arnie. At present, there were only a few sheets of paper on the desk. The whiteboard was blank.

  With coffee cup in hand, I sat down in the desk chair and swiveled to face the board. I had been honest with Pepper. I didn’t want to get involved in Kate Fuller’s murder, but I didn’t want to ignore what happened either.

  Questions had been on my mind all morning. The first two were the most obvious. Why was Kate murdered? And why was Leslie abducted? They didn’t appear to be related crimes, but cab number eight linked the two women together.

  I sipped my coffee and tried to think about the facts of the case. Arnie was constantly telling me I was too emotional, and my imagination ran wild with unfounded theories and ideas.

  There were only a few items that seemed important enough to put on the board. I started with Kate Fuller. For her, I had three items:

  Cab driver who agreed to park her cab and walk away

  Shot in forehead

  Accidentally fell out of trunk in front of witnesses

  As an afterthought, I added that she was engaged to Brick. I didn’t believe it, but he said it was true, so until I knew otherwise, I added the information to the board.

  Next was Leslie Preston. I had three facts for her:

  Doug Preston’s niece

  Driving Kate Fuller’s cab

  Man driving dark van abducted her

  I could add information about her television series, but it didn’t seem pertinent yet.

  Brick Brack headed the next column. I smiled thinking about the strange man again. Under his name, I made three entries:

  Not a decorative item

  Jittery

  Guilty

  I smiled at my own wit, but I knew Arnie wouldn’t approve. I erased all three and started again with three new entries:

  Cab dispatcher

  Arranged Leslie’s stunt with Doug and Kate

  Kate’s fiancé

  Doug was the last person to head a column. I restrained myself from writing dirtbag, and I listed two facts:

  Leslie’s Uncle

  Arranged Leslie’s cab stunt with Brick and Kate

  I sat down and picked up my coffee. I leaned back to look at the sparse information. These four people were all connected, but there was also a disconnect. None of them had seen each other during the murder, the stunt, or the abduction.

  Someone murd
ered Kate. Leslie was oblivious to the murder as she drove the cab. Brick was in the dispatcher’s office at the garage, and Doug was home waiting to hear from his niece. Yet these were the only people who knew about the publicity stunt. They were the only four people who knew the whereabouts of each other.

  Maybe Kate’s murder was a random act. No. That didn’t make sense. If it was random, the murderer would have left her where he shot her. He wouldn’t have been driving the cab with her in the trunk.

  Ooh, here was a wrinkle. How did the cab get to the location where Leslie was supposed to pick it up? That did throw suspicion on her for the murder just like Howard said last night. Maybe it was an old grudge that Leslie managed to settle. Then she went about her business with the publicity stunt as though she knew nothing about Kate’s murder.

  If that was the case, who would want to abduct Leslie? Brick didn’t know her, and Doug was completely distraught over her disappearance, so who?

  A juicy thought came to mind. Maybe someone followed her to Buxley from Hollywood. Maybe whoever it was wanted to make her disappear so she wouldn’t be available for taping next month. They would have to cast a new daughter for the show – the abductor.

  Or maybe Rock Ryan had a new girlfriend who showed up to abduct Leslie and kill her. She probably thought Leslie and Rock would get back together for publicity’s sake. For all we knew, Leslie’s body could be at the bottom of nearby Treehorn Lake at this very moment. I might have to go to Hollywood and track down leads to see who had it out for Leslie and wanted to kill her. Pepper and Jackie would want to go along, too. We would have a great time questioning the cast members of Tell It To Daddy.

  I stood up and smiled. Arnie would blow a gasket if I ran a couple of theories like this by him. I knew there was no way any of us were going to Hollywood. I was going to hold to my theory that whoever killed Kate also abducted Leslie.

  It was time to head down to the police station and give my statement. I would ponder all of this later.

  Chapter Four

  My hand cramped. Writing out my version of what happened last night was equivalent to writing a novel by hand. The story was so good, I could probably find a publisher for what I was writing.

  The eraser on my pencil was one of those that refused to erase. Instead, it left dark smears on the paper. If I would have had a good eraser, I might have erased this paragraph: Officer Collins appeared frightened as I calmly walked toward him with my arms outstretched. His voice became high-pitched and shrill when he told me to go back to the car. Before I had a chance to turn around, his itchy trigger finger hit the fire button on the taser, and I hit the ground face first. His irresponsible actions ruined my new dress, and it was his fault I vomited on his shoes.

  When I finished, I read my words over again and had a pang of guilt for not being entirely truthful. I crossed out most of the paragraph about Officer Collins but left the part about my dress and the vomit.

  From previous experience, I knew not to leave the room. I waited for someone to come in to pick up my statement and tell me I could go. I knew it might be five minutes or an hour. I folded my arms on the table and leaned my head down on them.

  A dreamy voice drifted into my subconscious. “Jo. Jo.”

  My throat and nose vibrated. Had I just been awakened mid-snore? I lifted my head to see who was beside me.

  “How long have you been in here?” he asked.

  I stared at Glenn and didn’t know if I should apologize for my snoring or pretend it didn’t happen. I opted to pretend I didn’t snore.

  “Hi,” I said groggily. “I don’t know. What time is it?”

  “It’s four o’clock. I just came on duty.”

  “Four? Then I’ve been here all day.”

  “Why didn’t you take your statement out to the desk when you were finished?” he asked.

  I frowned. “Because the last time I was in here, the desk officer yelled at me every time I stuck my head out the door. Why didn’t someone come in and tell me it was ok for me to leave?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “We’re short two men right now, and one guy on night patrol is out sick. I think they forgot you were in here until I showed up.”

  “It’s ok,” I said with a shrug. “I didn’t have anything to do this afternoon, and I was tired, so I’m ok with the nap.” I stood from my chair and half-leaned, half-sat on the edge of the table. “What have you heard about last night? Is there anything new?”

  “Nothing. Five people saw the body bounce out of the cab, but they were all so concerned about the girl, none of them got a look at the driver. One woman remembered the plate number, because the cab company uses vanity plates and it was easy to remember – ACE-8.”

  “Nobody saw anything when Leslie was driving, and the van ran us off the road?” I asked. “There was a lot of noise when the van hit the cab.”

  “Not in that part of town. There isn’t any housing. A couple of guys canvassed the area today, but they didn’t turn up anyone who heard or saw anything.”

  “Glenn, the weird thing is that Leslie isn’t a stranger to the area. Why was she over on the west side at all? She was pretty far out of the way from my house when we were run off the road.”

  He frowned and nodded his head. “That is something to consider. Did you mention it in your statement?”

  “I didn’t. It crossed my mind last night, but I didn’t think about it again until just now.”

  “I’ll make a note and put it in the report,” he said. “Someone may have already figured out she wasn’t where she should have been, but I’ll make sure it’s covered.”

  His eyes twinkled as he brushed my arm with the back of his hand before straddling one of my legs and leaning into me. “You looked beautiful last night. Red is a good color on you.”

  He was undeniably hot, and my heart started beating double time. The idea of having sex for the first time with Glenn on the table in the interrogation room seemed like wicked fun. I was glad I had changed into a pretty blouse and a pair of slacks before coming in. Oh, and the granny panties. I was really glad I had changed out of those and slipped on a sexier pair of underwear. I made a mental note to throw out all of my granny panties no matter how comfortable they were.

  “Wheeler!”

  I knew that voice, and it wasn’t happy. Sergeant Rorski stepped into the doorway and said, “The streets don’t patrol themselves. Get out there. Ravens, come down to my office. I have a couple of questions for you.” He turned and stormed off.

  Glenn gave me a peck on the cheek, winked, and said, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  There was some serious chemistry between us, and he left me flustered by his actions. I was going to have to get off this roller coaster soon and either decide we were dating and a couple, or I was going to have to tell him I wasn’t interested. That would be a huge lie, because I was completely interested, but I wanted him to be older. Ugh. Why did that bother me so much?

  “Ravens!”

  I rushed down the hall to his office. He didn’t waste any time and asked his first question before I sat down.

  “Why were you in Kate Fuller’s cab last night?”

  I knew to keep my answers short and not irritate the man. I didn’t want to be the person in front of him when he had a stroke.

  “Hank called a cab for me. I got sick at the Harrington wedding.”

  “You didn’t see who abducted her?”

  I shook my head.

  “Did you see anything other than the van?”

  “Not a thing,” I said. “I was lying down in the back seat. When the van ran us off the road, I fell off onto on the floor. I was too sick to get up and see what was going on.”

  “Tell me what happened between you and Officer Collins.”

  I sat up straighter, raised my voice, and launched into something slightly less than a tirade, but slightly more than a whine. “He tased me. I’m going to have nightmares from that taser. And I’m thinking about pressing charges agains
t the department for excessive force. He knows who I am. Why would he ever think he should use a taser on me? I had heels and a new dress on. My dress is ruined. I want it replaced. It was obvious I wasn’t armed. I was chasing the kidnapper, and when I got out to tell Officer Collins to hurry and go catch him, he shot me. That’s when I vomited on his shoes.”

  I was so busy pleading my case as quickly as I could, I didn’t notice his face had gone from red to beet red and was edging into the purple range. He was going to stroke out.

  I put my hand out and said, “To be fair, he did order me to get back in the cab, and I didn’t listen.”

  I sat quietly and waited for the volcano to either erupt or diffuse. Without comment, he stood and took his purple face from the room.

  Now what? Was I supposed to wait? Should I leave? Was he ok?

  I waited a couple of minutes. He didn’t come back. I peeked out into the hallway. No one was around. I ran down the hallway, past the front desk officer, and out the front door. They had my statement.

  Chummy Burgers and More was on the way home. I was tempted to run through the drive thru to grab something to eat, but I really didn’t want to get back on the fast food wagon. I stopped at the grocery store instead and grabbed enough lettuce and vegetables to make salads for a few days.

  I turned onto Clark Street and headed for the cul-de-sac at the end of the street. Four well-manicured, two-story homes were situated around the knob. My house was the first one to the right. Pepper and Buck lived in the first house to the left. Pepper’s garage door was down, so I knew she wasn’t home yet from Mama’s. I thought about driving over and having dinner with them, but as it was Sunday, there would probably be mashed potatoes and dessert - both things I couldn’t say no to. I pulled into my driveway and grabbed my salad goodies.

  Out of habit, I glanced at the answering machine hooked up to my red phone. The light was flashing. I rushed over and punched the button.