Gun in the Gardenias (Lovely Lethal Gardens Book 7)

by Dale Mayer

  She smiled. “Good. I still have to get to that thrift store and empty my car.”

  “You haven’t done that yet? You could have done that instead of getting into trouble,” he snapped.

  “And what if I’d been here when Steve came?”

  More silence again.

  She smiled triumphantly. “See? Maybe it’s a good thing I wasn’t here.”

  “Where were you? If you saw him leaving your house, where were you that you didn’t see him enter?”

  “I went for a walk up the creek,” she announced.

  “How far up the creek?” he asked suspiciously.

  She frowned into the phone. “Just a little ways.”

  “How far up the creek?” he barked.

  “Up to Steve’s place,” she said. And then added hurriedly, “But I didn’t see him, until later as he ran by, and he didn’t see me.”

  “It’s a pretty damn big coincidence if he snuck into your house when you were at his. How is it you didn’t see him?”

  She explained what happened.

  “That makes sense.”

  “Sure,” she said. “That’s when he almost fell because I told him how I had scanned everything.”

  “And that’ll just have him coming back, wondering if you have a hard drive with it all.”

  “But surely he’ll expect me to put it in cloud storage or to at least email it to myself. That’s what anybody would do.”

  “Which means you’re now a bigger threat than ever,” Mack said morosely.

  She was still talking when she heard Mack’s truck. She stepped out the front door with the critters and waited until he pulled up in front of her door. She went to the big garage door and lifted it, realizing that once again, she hadn’t locked that either. Mack hopped out and said, “What are you doing in there?”

  She shook her head. “I realized I can now park in my garage. But you came here for something else.” She walked over so she could see where Steve had jumped and pointed. “He went over the fence here.”

  “I wonder why he didn’t go around the fence,” he said looking around. “I see the reporters are gone.”

  “Of course they are, now that they’d be useful.” She motioned at the fence. “This is only four feet tall. Someone like Steve, who’s pretty tall, can jump this easily. I’m sure he didn’t think anything of it.”

  “Maybe,” Mack said. He walked over and up into the neighbor’s lawn and checked the garden for footprints. “It’s all bark mulch. No footprints to find here.” He carried on across the front yard and over to the other side. Doreen hadn’t met anybody in that house yet. Cindy and her kids were in the next house, but nobody came out when Mack wandered around that house’s fences.

  Mack shook his head when he came back and said, “No forensic evidence to show he was here.”

  “Of course not,” Doreen said. “Just the fact that he was in my house. And …” She looked at him and frowned. “I don’t think he was wearing gloves.”

  “You don’t think he was wearing gloves,” Mack said. “Or you know he wasn’t wearing gloves?”

  She cast her mind back, but it was hard to confirm. All she remembered was him wearing black. Her shoulders sagged, and she said, “He probably did have gloves on.”

  “Yes, he probably did,” he said.

  She led the way back into the kitchen and pointed to where the file had sat on the table.

  “So, if he went into the kitchen and was looking around, it would have been right there, available for him, correct?” Mack asked.

  She nodded. “It’s a good thing I finished all that scanning.” She picked up the pages that were flipped over and handed them to him. “These are the ones I found interesting in that folder. These are newspaper articles about the three different house fires and the women getting checks. These three men were part of an opposing gang.”

  Frowning, Mack grabbed the papers from her. “Do I have copies of this stuff?”

  “Yes, in the digital file I sent to you. Although the file was big, so it’s one of those Google link things you have to click to download.”

  He nodded. “I’ll make sure I download it. But run me a paper copy of these too, will you?”

  She took off the paper clips, went to her printer, and made copies. With the copies clipped together, she handed them to Mack and said, “These are the ones I think are important. For all I know, there’s more too because there’s no mention of the Helmsman fire here. So that’s another case.”

  Mack nodded. “I’ll start on it Monday when I go in.”

  “Good,” Doreen said. “I’m sure I can stay alive until then.” She waved her hand airily at him.

  At that, he fisted his hands on his hips and glared at her.

  She smirked. “Also, I’m trying to find a Veronica Phillips. Her father passed away back in 1901, according to his death certificate. She apparently was the daughter of the lady who wrote these love letters and who owned the hope chest boxes.”

  “So, do you think they were married?”

  “They were married just before he had to leave again,” she said. “I’m not sure what his job was, but he got sick after he left. Then he died.”

  “But they still got married, so the hope chest was used?”

  “I don’t think she ever had time to get it unpacked,” Doreen said. “Just time enough to get pregnant.”

  “Which we well know often happens on the wedding night if not before,” Mack said quietly. “I don’t know if I recognize that name. I’ll have to take a look and see if I can find something on it.”

  “That would be good. A lot of names are flying around, and I’ve jotted down some notes, but it’s a little confusing.”

  “You have a bunch of stuff you’re dealing with too,” he said. Then he caught sight of the plastic bin with the newspaper clippings. He frowned, picked them up, and said, “And what’s all this about?”

  “A friend of Nan’s,” she announced. “She collected all these, and apparently, some of them deal with a serial killer from way back then—Bob Small.”

  His eyebrows shot up, and he turned to look at her. “What about him?”

  She looked at him in interest. “So that’s a name you know?”

  He nodded. “He was a notorious serial killer in Vancouver many years ago. He was caught for a couple things and did time but was never caught for the murders. Only after DNA identification evolved was he linked to some colder cases.”

  “Does anybody know if he’s still alive?”

  “No idea,” Mack said. “That’s just one of the mysteries of the case.”

  “Of course,” Doreen said. “Well, those I found in that closetful of paperwork.”

  “This house is just full of stuff to keep you busy, isn’t it?” Mack asked. “Why don’t you focus on that and leave Steve alone? You’re prodding a dangerous tiger there. If he comes out of hiding, it’ll be lethal.”

  “Maybe, but I’m definitely getting the impression it’s not so much dangerous to me as maybe someone close by is dangerous to him.”

  “Explain.”

  “You already explained it,” she said. “There’s a chance somebody else knows this information is slowly being exposed. And they may stop Steve from talking.”

  “Just as likely they’re afraid he’ll let something loose,” Mack said, absentmindedly flipping through the papers in his hands. “This is a big deal. You can’t go playing around with this.”

  “Wasn’t planning on it,” Doreen said. “Steve wouldn’t matter to me in the least, except for that darn gun. If you would at least get the ballistics checked on it, we could see if it was used in any other cases. You’ll get hurt … or worse … killed.”

  “We,” he said with emphasis, “are waiting for ballistics to come back. I might hear by Monday or Tuesday but chances are good it will take longer.”

  “Perfect, because I’ve got a hunch it’ll be a whole lot more than we expect.”

  “It shouldn’t be. That w
ould be foolish for Steve to use a gun directly linked to him or the gang or to several outstanding murder or B&E cases.”

  She snorted at that. “Did you ever know a smart criminal?”

  He nodded. “Bob Small. That man was very smart if he did even half of what we’re afraid he’s done. He’s eluded law enforcement for decades. We don’t even know the scope of the crimes he’s committed.”

  “How many killings are attributed to him?”

  Mack shrugged. “He was a long-haul trucker. I don’t think we’ll ever know half of his victims. But, out of Vancouver alone, which was one of his main bases, we figured about thirty-two.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Thirty-two murders unsolved! How come the public doesn’t know about this?”

  “Because it was a long time ago. And I mean a long time ago. Law enforcement doesn’t generally bring up things that far back. Not too many people are still left alive who even remember.”

  “But some are,” she said. “And I’m sure many family members of those poor victims are involved too.”

  “Which is exactly why it popped up again,” Mack said.

  “Popped up again?” she asked curiously.

  “Remember that we go through cold cases on a regular basis? Well, that one came up in discussion with the new genealogy cold cases.”

  “Genealogy.” She frowned. “Is that that new way of finding family members of somebody?”

  “Yes, but it’s a fairly new science. Of course, genealogy is old, and DNA is by now fairly commonplace, but to find the genealogy tree within the DNA … That’s an interesting prospect, and it certainly narrows down the field. That’s where we got a hit on Bob Small.”

  She stared at him, then whispered, “That is an awful lot of cases.”

  “Too many,” he said. “I’ll handle Steve and Bob Small. You go find your Veronica.”

  She glared at him. “That’s like telling the little woman to stay home, where she’ll be safe and sound.”

  He leaned forward and said, “That’s exactly what I’m telling you to do. Stay home where you’ll be safe and stop getting into trouble.”

  “What you really mean is, stop interfering in what you consider your cases,” she snapped.

  He chuckled. “Exactly. If you decide to go into law enforcement, I can tell you the training is pretty rough. You might still be alive by the time you get through it all, but it’ll probably drive you crazy because you don’t get to work on any real cases for a long time.”

  She shook her head. “It sounds boring. I think I’ll continue doing what I’m doing. These cold cases, a lot of them are so old they are public knowledge. I can dig as much as I want.”

  The smile wiped off his face. “You might, but you won’t survive every attack. You’ve been hurt enough as it is.”

  “I have,” she said. “So I’ll have to be smarter about it. I was hoping you’d be on my side,” she said in a wheedling tone. “I have helped you a lot.”

  He just glared and said, “No blackmail.”

  “Of course not. I’ll just see if I can get Nan’s help.”

  “Oh, no. That needs to stop too.”

  “But a lot of people from Rosemoor have good information. Just look at all the boxes I got from Solomon. Do you know how much information is in there? Information that could have been lost if those boxes hadn’t landed on my doorstep? Literally?”

  He closed his eyes, and she could almost see his lips move, probably counting to ten. Finally, he opened his eyes again and said, “Bottom line is, you have to stay safe.”

  “Bottom line is, I’ve been safe so far. Everybody has come to my rescue. I won’t expect it every time, but I can’t walk away and turn my back on all these cases.”

  He glared at her, speechless.

  She nodded. “So it’s really in your best interest to help me. That way, I won’t get into as much trouble, and we close these cases faster.” Then she added in a smug tone, “And you won’t have to worry about what I’m up to.”

  “I want you to take tomorrow off,” he said quietly. “Monday completely off. Read a book, sit by the creek, … do something that isn’t criminally related. Let Steve calm down too. Can you do that?”

  She stared at him. “Why?”

  “Because everyone needs to take a break. Even you. Step back. Relax. Clear your head. Tuesday you will think better and faster.”

  There was some sense to his words, but … she looked at all the information she wanted to go through and opened her mouth to argue, but he placed a gentle hand on her arm. “Please. Just for tomorrow.” Then he added, “Unless, of course, you can’t handle that?”

  Her head lifted, immediately geared up to accept that dare, that challenge, and she glared at him. “Of course I can.”

  “Good,” he said. “I’ll hold you to it.”

  Darn him anyway. … She was caught, and she knew it.

  Chapter 22

  Tuesday Morning Early …

  The morning dawned bright and clear. Doreen groaned with relief. She’d done it. She’d taken yesterday off completely. As per her agreement with Mack.

  She still wasn’t sure how he’d gotten her agreement, but he had. Now that torment was over. … She had a bright cheerful grin on her face as she hopped out of bed with energy to spare. As she thought about it in the shower, she wondered if having the day off had helped. She’d taken the whole day to rest and to relax, forcing herself to ignore everything—at least as much as she could.

  And she’d slept well and now felt wonderfully refreshed.

  She groaned. But that would mean Mack was right.

  Something she could never let him know …

  As it was, her day of rest allowed her to finally recover from the antiques, the gardening, and the heavy sorting and cleaning of her house. Although, as she realized from her most recent visit with Nan, she still had to go through the paperwork in those two bundles. Or four bundles. She mentally chastised herself for already trying to cut the work in half. But then she was grinning madly as she stepped out of the shower, dried off, and got dressed. It was all waiting for her … so, yay!

  The animals were all waiting for her too. “So what do you guys think? What’s on our plate today?”

  Mugs woofed and jumped, then went to her, looking for a cuddle. Goliath stared at them in disdain. Thaddeus, on the other hand, wandered up and down the stairway railing, waiting for them to go downstairs. She led the way, only to have Goliath streak ahead and Mugs chase after him. She was chuckling by the time she hit the kitchen. She disarmed the security and opened the doors to the backyard. Everybody ran out except for her. She was more interested in getting coffee on first. Nothing like that very first cup of a day. Then, with the coffee dripping, she grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil and stepped onto the deck and sat down in the early morning sunshine.

  It was already eight o’clock. Somehow her early morning had not been as early as she had originally thought. Keeping an eye on the animals wandering through the garden beds, sniffing out whatever critters might have come through the place during the night, she wrote down a to-do list.

  She would get her car emptied today. She had gone through a few more of the clothes she had originally thought to keep and collected another full bag she would give to Wendy to sell on consignment, so she wanted to add that to the other bags going to Wendy already in her car. She also needed to get some more groceries. Mugs’s dog food was looking a little sad.

  With that thought, she hopped up to feed the animals. When they heard the bags shaking, they came running. She laughed and said, “You guys are fed now, but I’m not sure about me.”

  She opened the fridge to see a pretty dismal-looking selection. The leftover pork chop was long gone. While she looked inside, she realized she had enough for the always good old standby: a cheese omelet. And as much as she loved them, it was time to add a couple other foods to her morning repertoire. She could try scrambling the eggs but thought she’d end up with something either too
liquid in form or overcooked. So it was an omelet once again. She poured herself her first cup of coffee and then made her omelet and took both out onto the deck.

  A text came through from Mack. How did yesterday go?

  Perfect.

  Did you rest and leave all the cases alone?

  Yes. I hate to say it, but I’m feeling much more energized and alive today.

  That made her laugh. She was in such a benevolent mood, she realized she owed Mack more than she could ever thank him for, just for teaching her a few things. And that was besides learning she needed to take some downtime. She was a long way from doing much cooking, but adding even an omelet to her skillset had been huge. She really wanted spaghetti again, but the thought of making that sauce all on her own was daunting. She frowned, thinking about it. If she bought the ingredients, maybe this week Mack would stand by while she made it. She pulled out her phone and asked him.

  When the text came back and with a solid block cap YES, she figured he was perfectly happy with that idea. And then wondered what she needed for ingredients. She walked back inside and picked up previous notes from her cooking lessons. And came back outside. She brought her laptop with her this time. She looked at her notes and saw she had most of it but wasn’t sure if it was all. He’d gotten a little sneaky, adding in things, like wine, when she wasn’t around.

  She opened an email, copied over everything she thought went into the recipe and sent it off to him with a question about whether or not she needed anything else. She didn’t expect to get an answer right away, since he should be at work, and she had certainly dumped enough work on his plate over the weekend. That reminded her of another stop she wanted to make. She frowned at that because she could take the animals with her to both Wendy’s and the thrift store, but she couldn’t take them to the grocery store or to the library. Not to mention the car was overstuffed.

  And she really wanted to get some of this done. The animals appeared to be content on the back deck. Only now did she realize that taking down the rear fence meant she could no longer keep Mugs secured inside her yard. And Goliath—well, nothing would keep him or Thaddeus in. Mugs was generally quite happy to just stay in the backyard, but she didn’t want somebody coming in and hurting him. She frowned and wondered what she was supposed to do. Taking the fence down had been a good idea, but she needed to put something else up. Or even just expand the deck and put a gate on it.