Be Mine, Dead Valentine, page 3
part #2 of Crescent Falls Series
As she left Marty’s office, her cell phone rang. Seeing the readout, she answered with, “Hello, Bob. I’m just getting ready to leave the bar. What’s up?”
“I thought you’d be home by now.”
She could hear noises in the background that indicated he was outside. “I had to close alone. But I’m almost finished. Where are you?”
“Just leaving the medical center. We had a call out near the falls. Car versus tree. Guess who won? They’re all being treated in the ER now.”
“Not anyone we know, I hope.”
“Some teenagers from Rosewood, on their way home. Minor injuries, luckily.” He hesitated a moment then said, “I was thinking when you get home you could come over and we’d unwind together. How about it?”
The sexy undertone in his voice stirred something inside of her. “I’m beat and you probably are, too. But unwinding together just might be the very thing we need.”
“I’ll be waiting with some TLC,” he promised before disconnecting the call.
Picking up the pace now that thoughts of Bob were uppermost in her mind, she double checked to make sure the front door was locked, put on her coat, turned off the lights and stepped out the back door into the deserted parking lot behind the bar.
As mandated by Marty, her Camry was parked in the employee section of the lot, near a copse of trees that bordered the property. Feeling a sudden chill that she wasn’t sure had anything to do with the frigid weather, she hurried toward her vehicle. The vapor lights cast an amber glow over the area, but did little to dispel the shadows lingering here and there. She glanced up at the star-studded sky. A sliver of moon hung there looking like the business end of scythe. She sensed she wasn’t alone. She turned around, sure she’d heard something behind her, but there was nothing there. Picking up her pace, she opened her shoulder bag and dug out her keys. Just as she was about to push the remote door opener on her keychain she sensed rather than heard movement nearby. Suddenly she was pushed from behind, but before she could turn again to see who had rushed her, she felt her legs give way, her vision blur and her entire body go numb.
* * * *
Bob Jackson drove his red Mustang through the streets of Crescent Falls at top speed. It was now three-thirty in the morning and still no word from Patty. When he called her cell phone it went to voice mail. To say he was concerned was putting it mildly. Their last phone conversation had been over forty minutes ago and she’d told him she was just leaving the bar. The drive from Marty’s, on the corner of Mulberry Street and Dogwood Avenue to their apartment complex located at the corner of Mulberry and Falls Way shouldn’t have taken her more than five minutes. Worry formed a knot in his mid-section as he turned his car onto Dogwood Avenue and pulled into the back parking lot of the bar. He could see her Camry still sitting in its assigned spot. Stopping his car, he shut off the engine and got out. The bar was dark inside, save for the blinking beer signs in the windows. It was then he noticed something lying on the blacktop several yards away. Realization struck like a physical blow and he took off running.
She was face down, her head turned to one side, her eyes open wide. “Patty,” he called, kneeling beside her. But he knew he was too late. She was dead.
While Bob waited for the police to arrive in response to his call, he examined the object sticking out of the center of Patty’s back. A knife? Or perhaps an ice pick. But it was the object that was resting between the hilt of the weapon and her suede jacket that sent a chill up and down his spine.
“You didn’t touch anything, did you?”
Bob looked up into the face of Officer Dennis Ackerman. He hadn’t even heard him arrive. He’d obviously not used his siren. The tall, blond man knelt down on the other side of Patty’s body. “More backup is on the way.”
“I didn’t need to touch her to know she is dead, Dennis,” Bob snapped. He got up and ran a hand over his eyes, as though that would wipe away the image of Patty lying there like that.
Just then two more squad cars pulled silently into the lot, their lights flashing red and blue. Ken Lafferty got out of one car, Larry Schwartz out of the other. They joined Dennis next to the body.
Bob stood off to the side, watching. Ken was a transplant from Rosewood, who Bob thought was one of the better officers on the force. He seemed very focused, and was really loyal to Daniel. Larry, on the other hand, aspired to be a detective someday on a larger police force. Bob knew this because he’d heard the officer talking about that subject one night when he’d brought a date into the bar and was obviously trying to impress the woman.
“What’s that between her body and the knife hilt?” Ken asked.
Bob watched as Daniel McBride’s pickup truck turned into the lot. The chief got out and hurried to join his officers.
Within ten minutes Larry Schwartz had cordoned off the area around the body with yellow crime scene tape.
Finally, Daniel approached. “What happened here, Bob?”
“You tell me,” Bob blasted, his voice higher than he realized. “I came to check on her when she didn’t show up at home…we were going to…spend some time together…” He couldn’t go on. Tears sprang into his eyes.
Daniel led him to one of the squad cars, opened the passenger side door and pushed him down into the seat sideways. “You didn’t work until closing tonight?”
Trying to compose himself, Bob finally replied, “No. I was one of the paramedics on call until two. I called Patty and found out she was closing alone, which is never supposed to happen. She was just about to leave. When she didn’t show up at home, I came looking for her.”
“You two dating now?”
The question sounded casual, but Bob knew it was anything but. “Just hanging out when we can. We’re neighbors. You know that.”
“Anyone you can think of who might want to harm her?”
“Was she robbed?’ Bob looked over as a black van pulled into the lot. The people from the ME’s office had arrived. He felt sick.
“Doesn’t look like a robbery. Her money and credit cards were still in her purse,” Daniel said.
Bob tried to clear his mind. “She told me a few times that her ex-husband was always bugging her about the alimony. But she didn’t seem to want to go into details. I just know it was a bitter divorce.” He glanced over at the circle of people around Patty’s body. At some point Lieutenant Luke Fagan must have arrived, because he was now leaving the group and heading their way. He was carrying his metal equipment case, since he was the only officer on the force who was licensed to process crime scenes.
Luke nodded Bob’s way, then said to Daniel, “That thing between the knife hilt and her back…it’s a Valentine, Chief. It looks like the kind you get on a punch-out card, the cheap ones kids take to school for a Valentine’s Day exchange with classmates. We used to buy them for our kids when they were in grade school.”
Daniel led Luke away from the cruiser where Bob was sitting so he couldn’t hear anything else they were saying. But he’d heard enough to make his insides crawl and the hair on the nape of his neck stand up.
Chapter Six
Adelaide decided not to linger after church on Sunday morning. Instead, she slipped out one of the side doors and drove to the police station, parking in the visitors’ section of the lot behind the two-story, brick building that also housed the municipal offices, which were closed today.
Her early morning call to her son Daniel’s cell phone had gone straight to voice mail. A call to his private line at the station had netted no better results. She hadn’t spent much time in the police station since those awful events in December, and now, as she walked past the dispatcher’s console, unbidden memories came flooding back. The thought that another killer was at large in their town, only two months after the murder of local insurance agent Jerry Hatfield, was almost unthinkable.
Most of the desks in the squad room were empty, save for two where officers sat pecking away at computer keyboards. Daniel’s office was at the back of the room. The door was open and she could see him sitting at his desk, head bent, writing something on a pad of paper.
She hesitated in the doorway for a moment, then said, “Have you given up checking your voicemails, or are you just ignoring my calls?” When he looked up at her, she could see the lines a fatigue around his eyes and mouth. Obviously he hadn’t shaved this morning either, which told her he’d probably been at the station all night.
Adelaide felt an immediate rush of maternal love and protectiveness for her handsome son, who was the youngest officer, at thirty-nine, to be hired as the town’s chief of police. As a result he had to constantly prove himself to those council members who had opposed his appointment. Not only that, but during that December murder investigation, it became apparent that someone inside the department was leaking privileged information to the local press. Daniel had yet to discover the identity of the mole, but Adelaide knew he wouldn’t rest until he uncovered their identity. Frankly, Adelaide suspected Officer Ed Lucas, who she knew didn’t like the idea of Daniel being the chief of police.
“Mother. Come in. Shut the door.” Daniel put down his pen and leaned back in his squeaky swivel chair. “Take a seat.” He indicated one of the chairs across from his desk.
Adelaide did as he said. “You look awful. Have you eaten? Did you get any sleep?”
“Don’t hover, Mother. I’m fine. I’ve been through worse.”
She knew that was true. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.” She eyed him closely. His thick black hair was in disarray, that one stubborn lock hanging down onto his forehead. He wasn’t in uniform. “I still can’t believe that poor girl was murdered in such a horrible way. Do you have any leads?”
“Well, it wasn’t a robbery. Her purse wasn’t disturbed—money still in her wallet, along with her credit cards. Her car keys were lying right beside the body. The car was still parked in her slot. There was no evidence of sexual assault.” Daniel studied her across the expanse of his desk for a moment, as though weighing in his mind just how much to tell her. Finally he opened his top left desk drawer and took out two plastic bags marked “Evidence.” He slid them across the desktop for her to see.
Adelaide looked at the contents of the bags. “The murder weapon, I presume?” She pointed to one of the bags.
“Judy picked these two things up a little bit ago from the ME’s office. An icepick. The handle, as you can see, is rough wood, so no prints. Killer probably wore gloves anyway.”
Adelaide viewed the contents of the other bag. “What is this? It’s a little bloody, but is it what I think…” She stopped as her mouth suddenly went dry.
“A Valentine. With a red heart and a pretty blue elephant on the front. In case you’re wondering, it says Be Mine, Sweet Valentine on the back. In this case though I guess it should have read Be Mine, Dead Valentine.” His tone had a sarcastic edge to it.
Adelaide picked up the clear bag and turned it over so she could see the writing on the back. “These are the kind you used to punch out and take for your class Valentine party when you were in grade school. A child’s Valentine. Where was this found?”
“Stuck between the hilt of the weapon and the body. See the hole in the center. The killer put the Valentine on the ice pick before he thrust it into Patty Regan’s back. We’ve kept the information about the Valentine a secret from the press, for now.”
An icy chill ran up Adelaide’s own spine when she saw the hole Daniel was talking about. There was blood around it. “The implications of this, Daniel…” She shook her head. She could see by the look on his face—she didn’t need to say anything further.
“We questioned Bob Jackson and finally let him go. He seemed really torn up about Patty’s death. Patty’s clothing has been sent to the lab in Rosewood to check it for DNA and anything else that might help us find whoever did this. We’ve checked the parking lot, but it’s blacktop, so no tire tracks. Still, we collected anything lying on the ground around the body and sent it to the lab. Maybe something will pop in the system…off a cigarette butt or a piece of discarded gum, who knows. More than likely we’ll end up with a big bunch of nothing, since there are hundreds of customers in and out of that place on any given week.”
“Don’t forget the Dumpster. You never know,” Adelaide suggested, although she doubted if the killer threw anything in there. Still, they should cover all bases.
“Already thought of that, Mother.” He sounded peeved.
“I know you did. Sorry.” Adelaide put the bag with the Valentine inside down on his desk, deciding to change the subject a little. “Well, Zelda had a few choice words to say about the whole thing in church today. That woman is unbelievable. She’s angry because her son is now involved in a murder investigation. No sympathy for Patty, of course. In fact, she said she didn’t think Patty was the right girl for her son. When I asked her why she just said that he could do better.”
Daniel thought for a moment. “Patty was divorced, and it was a bitter one. Her parents are coming in today sometime to talk.”
Adelaide knew Julie and Bill Regan, but they’d never been close. Their house was located off State Route Seven, on the outskirts of town. “What about Patty’s brother? I believe he left Crescent Falls many years ago.”
“Yeah, Donald. He lives in Columbus. Bill Regan told me their son would be arriving later today. I’ve sent Ed Lucas and Ray Butler to Rosewood to try and find the ex-husband. Seems he’s been very unhappy about paying alimony, according to what Patty told Bob Jackson on several occasions.”
“So, the ex is what you call a person of interest, I suppose.”
“For now.”
Adelaide got up. “I’m going to go get you something to eat and bring it back.”
Daniel rose also, walking her to the door. “No need, Mother. Judy is taking care of that.”
As if on cue, Officer Judy Hess, who had been instrumental in saving Adelaide’s life in December, came into the squad room carrying two paper bags. The wiry redhead smiled broadly at Adelaide. “There’s plenty for three, Mrs. McBride. Stay for lunch.” She breezed past them and into the kitchenette next to Daniel’s office.
“Not today, Judy. I’ll let you two enjoy some time together,” Adelaide replied. She winked at her son, then headed for the exit.
* * * *
After leaving the police station, Adelaide drove east on Buckeye Street toward her home a little over a block away. But, on impulse, instead of turning onto Hawthorne Avenue she continued on to Acorn Avenue, where she took a right, then turned left on Mulberry Street. Mulberry Manor, a modest apartment complex, one of two owned by local realtor Lloyd Fletcher, sat at the corner of Mulberry Street and Falls Way. She pulled into the parking lot, spotting Bob Jackson’s flashy red Mustang at once.
After parking in a designated guest spot, she got out of her car and pulled her tan cashmere coat tighter around her body as a blast of icy air hit her, making her eyes water. The temperature was dropping. She looked up at the leaden sky, certain there would be some sort of precipitation by evening. Just so it’s not an ice storm, she thought as she made her way to apartment five where Bob lived with his divorced brother, Dick.
As she waited for an answer to her knock, she eyed the apartment next door, number six, where the murdered girl, Patty Regan, had lived. Yellow tape made an X across the doorframe, indicating the police were not finished going through the murdered woman’s home for clues as to who might have wanted her dead.
Bob Jackson opened the door cautiously, peering out with apprehension. When he saw who it was, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “Oh, come in, Mrs. McBride. I was afraid it was Julie the bloodhound reporter again.” He stepped aside so she could enter the apartment.
Adelaide stepped into the small, cozy living room. It was done in earth tones of tan, russet and brown. The sofa was brown leather, the wood furniture sturdy looking oak. A fire blazed in the small fireplace on the opposite wall.
“I don’t know how many ways I can say no comment,” he told her. “Take off your coat.” He helped her slip out of the garment and slung it over the back of a tan leather chair. “Have a seat. Would you like some coffee?”
Adelaide sat down in the chair where Bob had deposited her coat. She put her purse on the floor. “No thank you, Bob. I just wanted to stop by and see how you are doing. I notice that the police still have Patty’s apartment cordoned off.”
Bob ran a hand through his hair, his green eyes suddenly moist, as though he was about to cry. “I can’t believe any of this. Patty and I were supposed to…” He stopped as his voice cracked. He sat down on the sofa but didn’t sit back. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together, head bowed.
“I spoke to Daniel just a while ago. In fact I just came from the police station. I’m so sorry for your loss, Bob. I know you and Patty were…friends.”
Bob looked up at her. “We were more than just friends.”
Adelaide sighed. “I see. Tell me, Bob, did she mention any problems with anyone lately, perhaps a customer who was giving her trouble? You know, there are people who think just because someone works in a bar that they are…well…”
“Patty wasn’t a slut and she never gave anyone that impression, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Bob’s cheeks were pink now, his eyes blazing.
“Oh, no, Bob, I never thought that. But maybe a customer got the wrong impression, through no fault of Patty’s.”
