Family Ties Mystery Series Box Set

by James Kipling

  “Occupational hazard,” Sam said. “Lot of time in hospital halls – usually on the move.”

  Yvonne was propped up on pillows when they entered. Ray noticed she’d applied some make-up.

  “How are we feeling this morning,” Dr. Sam asked.

  “Much better, thank you, Doc.”

  Yvonne looked at Ray. “I know you. Where’s your partner?”

  “She’s working another…she’s doing something different today. But, I wanted to see how you are doing.”

  “That’s very kind.”

  Ray smiled. “Oh, Lisa asked me to find out if you like dark chocolate or milk chocolate. She wants to bring you some next time she visits.”

  Yvonne’s eyes lit up. “Dark, please. Yummy.”

  Ray nodded. “Good. One more thing. It may seem random.”

  “Ask anything you like,” Yvonne said.

  “Do you know anyone named Sandra Davis?”

  The cheery disposition melted from Yvonne’s face, replaced by the look of someone about to be run over by a train. She buried her head in her hands.

  “Oh my God!” She began rocking back and forth. Her eyes darted left, right…then up into her head.

  “San…San…Sandra. Oh…my...God!”

  The wail started at the base of her throat and echoed off every hard surface in the room – a ping-ponging of shrieks and moans.

  “Oh my God!”

  “He’s gone.” She was shouting and thrashing. “Nicholas is gone. My Nicholas is dead.”

  Nurses flooded into the room. Ray slid towards the doorway.

  Dr. Sam shouted orders. A nurse handed him a hypodermic. The doctor slipped the needle into one of the tubes extending from Yvonne’s left arm.

  A nurse turned to Ray. “Sir, you can’t be in here.” She shut the door in his face.

  He heard the screams all the way down the hall. When he reached the nurse’s station, he handed one of his cards to a young man. “Give this to Dr. Sam, please.”

  “I sure will.”

  Ray sat in his car and let out a long breath.

  “Well, Ms. Sandra Davis, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  ***

  Margaret sat in her home office, flipping through her financial statements. The maid knocked on her door.

  “Ma’am.”

  “Yes, Anastasia?” she answered.

  “There is someone here to see you.”

  “Who is it?”

  “She says she is a detective.”

  “I will be right out,” Margaret answered.

  She sent a file to her accountant, then headed to the living room.

  She breezed into the room like a debutante. “Good morning,” she said, offering her hand.

  “Good morning, ma’am, I am Detective Lisa Andrews.” They shook hands.

  “May I offer you anything?” Margaret asked.

  “I am fine, ma’am, please do not trouble yourself,” Lisa said.

  Anastasia appeared as if by magic.

  “Two sparkling waters, please.” “I insist.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “So, Detective, how can I help you?”

  “I am here investigating the murder of Jennifer Lynn,” Lisa said. Margaret’s face looked like someone had just told her the sun rises in the east – no reaction. “Arnold told us you and Jennifer did not get along.”

  “Am I a suspect, Detective?”

  “Not at this time, ma’am.”

  “Small mercy,” Margaret said.

  “Tell me a little about yourself.”

  Anastasia placed a tray on the table and floated out of the room. Margaret handed one of the tumblers to Lisa. Their fingers brushed. Margaret seemed to linger a little with the touch.

  “How long had you known Jennifer?”

  “Three or four years.”

  “Before the marriage?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “It is customary to meet your sibling’s fiancé.”

  “Touché,” Lisa said.

  “Thank you,” Margaret said.

  “But you know what I meant,” Lisa said.

  “Do I?”

  “Yes, you do,” Lisa said.

  “I dated a cop once, Miss Andrews,” Margaret started to say.

  “Detective.”

  Margaret ignored the admonition. “And he taught me one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Never assume anything while being questioned.”

  “Why would he tell you that?”

  “Because, your words might be taken out of context and be used against you in court,” Margaret replied. She stood and walked to the French doors behind Lisa. Lisa refused to turn like a dog watching his master. Instead, she scribbled in her notebook.

  “I was asking if you knew her on a more personal level,” Lisa said.

  “Yes, I did.”

  Margaret came towards the couch and touched Lisa’s shoulder.

  “Nice blouse,” she said. “Silk?”

  “You know better,” Lisa said. “All I can afford on a cop’s salary is Rayon.”

  “Still, very nice. Very…slinky.” Her hand rubbed the tension spot between the back of Lisa’s neck and her shoulder.

  Lisa moaned without thinking, “Damn.”

  “I’ve taken massage classes,” Margaret said. “I find them quite useful when I am…how to put this delicately…when I am entertaining very personal friends.”

  She massaged deeper. Lisa decided to go with it. Maybe she’ll drop her guard.

  Margaret lowered her head close to Lisa’s ear. “I know exactly what you want to hear,”

  Lisa had subconsciously closed her eyes. She was beginning to relax. She felt Margaret’s hand slide across her shoulder and inside her blouse. It felt so wonderful…

  Lisa shot to her feet. “What the fuck,” she said. “I have a partner. And…and…and I’m a cop.:

  “Damn hot one, too,” Margaret said. She licked her lips. Then, she stood upright. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Detective. I got a little carried away. It’s been a while since I have been this close to a woman as attractive as you. I overstepped.”

  “Goddamn right you did.” Lisa could feel her flushed cheeks. She tried to hide her arousal.

  Margaret bobbed her head in apology. “Let me make it up to you.”

  She walked over to the bookshelf, opened a cabinet, and extracted a jump drive. She handed it to Lisa.

  “There it is,” she said. “All you need.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You will see,” Margaret said. “Jennifer was blackmailing me with this. If you have any questions, just call me. Now, since I cannot interest you in anything – ah – of a more recreational nature, I have things to which I need to attend.”

  She left the room.

  Anastasia appeared like a vampire from the mist and pointed to the door. “This way, ma’am.”

  ***

  Ray parked in the Morgue’s lot. Marjorie waved him to the back.

  Steve was hunched over a corpse. He looked up. “Mind if I keep working, Detective?”

  “Knock yourself out,” Ray said. “Who performed the autopsy on Nicholas Clarke?”

  “I supervised, but it was a little close to home. One of the other doctors did the work. ”

  “Did you write the report?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it accurate?”

  “Mostly.”

  Ray banged on the table with his fist. Steve jumped.

  “Listen, clown,” Ray said. “We’re not doing this dance. You either tell me what you know or I’m running you in for screwing with my car. If you don’t do time, you will lose your job at the very least.”

  “Okay,” Steve said. He wiped sweat from his brow. It was still 66 degrees in the room. “I took something out.”

  “What?”


  Steve pushed back his face shield, removed his gloves, walked to the sink, and washed his hands. His shoulders slumped.

  “I took out the termites.”

  “The what?”

  “The termites – there were a few termites under Nicholas’s fingernails.”

  “Why the hell would you leave anything out?”

  “To protect him.”

  Ray motioned with his finger…come on…give it.

  “Nicholas met me in a bar the night he was killed.”

  A light bulb went off in Ray’s head. “A gay bar.”

  “No. Jesus, what is wrong with you?” Wrong light bulb.

  Ray shrugged. “Sorry.”

  “He’d given me the doll. I met him to discuss my findings. Yvonne was blowing up his phone all night. I assumed he went straight home after we met. When he came in on the meat wagon – I mean, in the ambulance, I thought maybe he’d been up to something. I found the termite. They don’t live in water. I knew Nicholas had gone to the woods. I thought he might have met someone, you know, outside the bar.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know, Detective…maybe a working girl. Maybe they went out in the wild to do the wild thing – something like that.”

  “You know you can lose your license for leaving something like that out, right? Hell, you could do time.”

  Steve nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I thought maybe I was protecting Yvonne. What I did was stupid. If there’s any way you can make it right and leave my little…uh…slip-up between the two of us, I’d appreciate it.”

  Ray scratched his head. “Don’t know if I can do that,” he said. “But, I’ll try.”

  He headed for the door. “You shut down ‘Morgues R Us’ yet.”

  “Haven’t taken a ‘special job’ since the last time we met.”

  “Keep it that way,” Ray said.

  13

  Lisa got back to the office. Ray arrived ten minutes later.

  “Get anything?” he asked.

  I almost got some, she thought. But, she kept the little feel-up job from Margaret to herself.

  “It was a fruitful afternoon,” she said.

  “Spill it,” he said.

  “You go first.”

  Ray recounted the episode in the hospital.

  “Why would she freak at the mention of the name Sandra Davis? Think she knew her.”

  Ray nodded. “I think she knew her very well.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I think Yvonne is Sandra Davis.”

  “Shut up!”

  “Seriously. We have some double life shit going on here, I think.”

  Lisa blinked several times, trying to process the information. “What else did you find out?”

  Ray explained about the autopsy report and the termites.

  “Well,” Lisa said. “We knew he was killed somewhere else and dumped – or we assumed because if the gunshot wound. But, there aren’t any woods within five miles of where the body was found.”

  “I know,” Ray said. “What do you have?”

  Lisa held up the jump drive. “I haven’t seen this yet,” she said. “But, Margaret said it was something Jennifer was blackmailing her about.”

  “Roll it,” Ray said.

  The black and white recording showed Margaret, clad only in a man’s undershirt and seated on a gigantic bed. She was on the phone.

  Ray gave Lisa a thumbs up – signaling for her to crank the volume.

  “That’s not what my records indicate, Nathaniel,” Margaret said into the phone. “I have gone through the books with a fine-toothed comb and I'm telling you, what you are saying is not what I am seeing.”

  Margaret tossed the phone to the end of the bed. She lay back and played with the remote. She looked up when Arnold came through the doorway.

  “It’s about time! I was almost falling asleep,” Margaret said and sat up.

  Arnold walked to the bed and kissed Margaret on the mouth.

  “Close family,” Ray said.

  “Something out of Arkansas,” Lisa said.

  Margaret was talking. “Where did you tell her you'd gone this time?”

  “Late business meeting.”

  “Okay,” Margaret said. “That’s a smart boy.”

  She pulled him closer and kissed him passionately.

  “My God,” Ray said. “Right where she eats.”

  “That’s the least of the issues,” Lisa said. “Aren’t they related?”

  “Only by marriage. Step siblings.”

  “Still,” Lisa said. “Ewwwwww.”

  Lisa paused the tape. “Have you had dinner?” she asked. “I’m not cleaning up if you hurl.”

  “I’ve seen lots of porno,” Ray said. “How bad could this be?”

  Very bad. Margaret and Arnold did things that were probably illegal in several states. At the end, they collapsed in a pile of limbs, hair, and sweat.

  Lisa turned off the player.

  “That was weird.”

  “You think?”

  “So, Jennifer knew her husband was doing the humpy-hump with his step-sister and was blackmailing her?”

  “I guess,” Lisa said.

  “Okay. But where does the Sandra Davis/Yvonne Phillips thing come into play?”

  “Beats me,” Lisa said. “But I have an idea how we can figure it out.”

  ***

  Yvonne heard the doorbell call out to her and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She pushed her breasts up a little and fluffed her hair. She swung it open with a dazzling smile on her face and gave him a hug.

  “I have missed you,” she said.

  “I have missed you, too.”

  He looked handsome. She was wearing worn the perfume he had bought for her.

  “How was your trip, my love?”

  “It was exhausting, dear, but I love this part right here.”

  “Which part?”

  “Coming home to you.”

  He kissed her lightly on the forehead. She walked to the kitchen.

  “I made your favorite,” she said

  “Angel hair pasta with marinara?”

  “Absolutely,” Yvonne said in a sing-song voice. He was next to her in no time, locking her in a tight embrace, and kissing her with an open mouth.

  “You are the woman for me, Charlotte Green,” he said.

  “Of course, I am,” Yvonne replied. “Do you want me to serve you?”

  “Yes, please,” he answered before giving her a light tap on her behind. He then walked over and looked out the window.

  Yvonne stole a glance of his back. Of all her clients, he was her favorite. He was the perfect guy, caring, loving, obedient and above all, a generous tipper. She loved the deep cinnamon, lemon-like scent that was in his beard and the snowy hair on his chest.

  She heaped pasta on his plate, slathered it with sauce, and carried it to the dining table.

  He patted his lap in invitation.

  “You know I cannot eat alone, Charlotte,” he said.

  “Coming, love.”

  She felt his arousal when she sat and ground her behind into him. He groaned and kissed her. He slipped his hand up her skirt. “Yvonne,” he said.

  He never called her by her real name. She was always Charlotte.

  “Yvonne,” he said louder. Someone shook her.

  And, she was awake – still in the hospital.

  Only, the face in front of her was the same face as the one in her dream.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “What are you doing here? How do you know my name?”

  “You don't remember anything, do you?”

  “Remember what?”

  “I was the one who brought you here,” he said, gesturing to the hospital room.

  “How did you?”

  “We had an appointment and I came over as usual,” he said. �
�It was a terrible scene. Thank God I found you in time. I don't know what I would do without you.”

  Yvonne could not recall anything from that night. Honestly, she did not want to remember.

  “Thank you,” she said. “And thank you for checking up on me.”

  She could not recall his name.

  “There is something else, my dear,” he said.

  Yvonne held her breath. She was not about to do this guy in the hospital, not even for what he paid – she could remember how generous he was.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I want you to be mine.”

  “I thought you had a wife.”

  “I did,” he said. “She is departed.”

  “But you always called me Charlotte.”

  “Charlotte was my high school sweetheart,” he replied.

  Yvonne could not think of anything to say. The idea of being with a client – long-term – had never entered her mind.

  “Think about it,” he said. “We shared a common bond in the few sessions we had, and as much as you tried to hide it, I could always see a longing in your eyes as well.”

  Yvonne knew that he was right but did not want to admit it. He looked at his wristwatch again before moving closer to her and planting a kiss on her forehead.

  “I will be back to check on you,” he said and started making his way towards the door. “I have settled the hospital bills.”

  “Thank you,” Yvonne said. He turned and waved.

  When he was gone, Yvonne could not stop smiling.

  14

  The light in the apartment was still on when Lisa pulled in the driveway.

  “Shit,” Lisa said. She’d hope Jane would already be asleep. Lisa kissed Jane on the head. “Hi,” she said.

  Jane grunted.

  “I’m dying for a beer. Want on…Are you fucking kidding me?”

  The shattered tea cup was still on the floor of the kitchen. Dried tea stained the cabinet where Lisa had taken aim that morning.”

  She heard Jane’s voice from the other room.

  “You might want to call that maid.”

  Lisa was halfway into her charge when the phone rang. She checked the time on the display – 10:15.

  “Andrews,” she said.

  “This is Victoria – from the Opera Company.”

  The tall one with the over-protective boyfriend.

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “Meet me at The Petting Zoo in thirty minutes.”