Body Over Troubled Waters

by Denise Swanson

  “If there aren’t any questions raised by either the search or the report from the crime scene techs, in all likelihood you’ll be allowed to move back into the house no later than Monday.” Wally turned to leave, then added, “Will all three of you be moving back?”

  “I believe Tavish will choose to remain where he is currently.” As Nanette returned her attention to the computer, she said, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really have to get this done.”

  Wally wasn’t surprised that Nanette hadn’t been happy with the prospect of him digging through her things. Suspects rarely were thrilled with the actions of the police. It was a shame that the innocent had to be inconvenienced, but at times it was the only way to convict the guilty. And no one wanted a killer running around loose, because once an individual has taken a life, odds are they won’t hesitate to do it again.

  Martinez was waiting for Wally when he pulled into the Wraiges’ driveway. The young woman and her K-9 partner were standing outside her squad car and as soon as Wally parked his Hummer, they met him at the door.

  The instant he stepped out of the vehicle, Martinez announced, “Chief, the vic’s coin collection turned up in Joliet at the A-1 Coin store.”

  “Oh?” Wally had sent out the list of missing coins to all the area dealers in a hundred-mile radius, but he hadn’t really expected to find it.

  “The owner said that the albums were just sitting on the doorstep of her shop. She found it when she opened up this morning,” Martinez explained. “She said there was no one around, and as soon as she realized they were the coins from the inventory that you sent out, she called the station.”

  “Hmm.” Wally took a minute to think about the implications of that information. He scratched his jaw and muttered, “So just like the jewelry box at the pawnshop.”

  “Yep.” Martinez agreed, but didn’t comment further.

  “Okay. After we finish here, I want you to head up to Joliet and get the collection, then transport it to Laurel and have the crime techs check it for fingerprints or any other evidence.”

  “Will do.” Martinez nodded.

  Wally popped open the Hummer’s rear hatch and grabbed the duffel containing the items he needed to complete a search. He swung the duffel’s strap over his shoulder, then looked at the K-9 officer sitting at Martinez’s feet. The animal stared at Wally and yawned.

  “What types of items has the dog been trained to detect?” Wally studied the animal.

  Martinez patted the giant schnauzer’s head. “Arnold and I are working on hidden explosives, firearms, drugs, alcohol, and nicotine. The thinking is that we can use him in school searches and also suspicious vehicles that have been pulled over.”

  “Excellent. Let’s get him started looking for any of those items in the victim’s residence.”

  Wally made a circuit of the house, documenting that the police tape wrapped around the exterior was intact. This provided proof that the interior had remained undisturbed since the murder.

  Returning to the front, he cut through the strips sealing that entrance, unlocked the door, and gestured for Martinez and the dog to begin their search. He’d let them do the initial examination of the rooms, then follow in their path looking for items that Arnold couldn’t smell.

  Once Martinez and her K-9 partner finished with the communal living areas, Wally sent them on to investigate the guest wing while he searched the kitchen. He opened all the appliances, cabinets, and drawers, but found nothing more significant than that the people sharing the house had widely varying tastes.

  The pantry held everything from dried beans and nutritional yeast to Pop-Tarts and SpaghettiOs. The cupboards displayed dishes ranging from melamine to fine china, and the drawers had both plastic utensils and sterling silver flatware.

  There weren’t many places anything could be concealed in the living and dining rooms. Surprisingly for a man whose profession was education, Wally did not find any bookshelves, and the coffee and end tables were completely clear.

  Frowning, Wally checked that there were no hidden niches that he had missed, but if there were, he couldn’t find them. The room was as sterile and impersonal as if it were a display in a furniture store.

  With nowhere else to look, Wally headed toward the guest wing. He’d heard Martinez issue muted commands but nothing to indicate that Arnold had detected anything of interest.

  Entering the room Colleen had been occupying, Wally spotted his officer sitting on the edge of the bed flipping through a stack of photographs. It took Martinez a second to realize that Wally was watching her from the door, but when she spotted him, her cheeks reddened and she jumped up. The pictures that had been on her lap spilled onto the floor and scattered at her feet.

  “Chief!” Martinez squeaked.

  Wally raised a brow. “That’s me.”

  “Uh.” Martinez gestured to the strewn snapshots. “These, uh, these were stashed in the false bottom of the nightstand’s drawer.”

  She pointed to the disassembled bedside table and Wally took the camera from his duffel bag and documented the hiding place that Martinez had found. Then he turned to the pictures and took photos of those as well. They were nudes of Colleen Vreesen with several different men—a few snapshots contained more than one guy in the bed with her.

  Covering a smile, Wally looked at Martinez and said dryly, “I wasn’t aware that the dog could detect porn.”

  “He can’t, sir.” Martinez took a breath, regained her composure, and explained, “This was with the photos.” She held a small plastic bag holding a few dark specks between her gloved fingers. “It’s probably weed.”

  “Add it to the stuff that you’re bringing to Laurel this afternoon.” Wally nudged one of the pictures with his toe. “Colleen is going through a custody battle, which makes me think it’s odd that she would keep these kinds of pictures of herself around.”

  “That’s true.” Martinez raised a dark eyebrow. “Maybe she wasn’t the one who put them in the drawer.”

  “Good point.” Wally motioned to the photos. “We’d better have them checked for fingerprints.”

  “Got it.” Martinez gathered the pictures and slipped them into an evidence bag. “There wasn’t anything, and I do mean anything, in Tavish’s room. It’s completely empty. He must have brought everything he owns to my place.”

  “Speaking of your renter”—Wally gestured for Martinez to follow him as he walked toward the master suite—“how’s that arrangement working out for you?”

  “Fine.” The young officer trailed Wally into the master bedroom. “He’s neat, quiet, and pays in cash.” She glanced at the dog by her side. “And best of all, his cat and Arnold get along.”

  “That’s all good.” Wally stopped and waved for her to go ahead. “But he is a murder suspect, so don’t let your defenses down.”

  “Definitely not, Chief.” Martinez made a hand gesture and Arnold began his search.

  Wally watched the woman and dog work together. Having a K-9 officer might actually turn out to be the one good thing the mayor ever did for the police department. Arnold seemed to have given Martinez the confidence she’d previously lacked as a rookie.

  A few seconds later, the dog alerted, and Wally walked into the master bathroom. Martinez was holding a Kotex box and she opened the lid. One by one, she held out each tampon to Arnold who alerted at six of them. She laid those aside and looked at Wally.

  “Are they factory sealed?” Wally asked.

  Martinez examined them carefully and said, “They’ve been opened and glued back shut.”

  Taking out the camera again, Wally documented the box and its contents, then said, “Change of plans. You’re still going to Joliet, but as soon as we’re done here, I’ll bring this, the pictures, and the baggie we think contains marijuana fragments to Laurel. We need to know what’s inside these tampons as soon as possible.” />
  “You’re thinking that it might be whatever was making Dr. Wraige sick.”

  “Yep.”

  They examined the rest of the suite and the attached garage but didn’t find anything else of interest. Then both returned to their vehicles and drove off in opposite directions.

  Wally checked in with Thea as he headed toward Laurel. He advised her of his intended destination and asked her to call in Anthony to cover the town’s normal patrol duties while he and Martinez were both gone.

  She reported that everything was quiet in Scumble River and signed off.

  Forty-five minutes later, Wally parked the Hummer behind the crime lab, grabbed the evidence bags from the rear seat, and walked into the squat brick building.

  He sketched a quick greeting to the man who buzzed him inside, then marched through the door leading into the rest of the building. One side of the corridor held the crime labs and the other the morgue.

  Wally peered through the window of each door until he found an occupied lab. The tech was busy but looked up as Wally entered.

  “Chief.” The man waved. “I should have the report on your crime scene ready in an hour or so.”

  “Great.” Wally held up the evidence bags he was carrying. “I was hoping you could put a rush on these. I need the pictures fingerprinted and the materials in the other two identified.”

  “Sure.” The guy accepted the evidence and logged it in. “Unless it’s something exotic, I should be able to add it to the report and have it to you by the end of the day.”

  “Thanks.” Wally clapped the man in his shoulder. “I appreciate it.”

  As he was walking out of the lab, Wally heard someone call his name. He turned and saw Doris Ann beckoning to him.

  She waved him into the morgue and said, “I was just about to call you. We’ve figured out the suspicious substance in your vic’s stomach contents.”

  “Excellent.” Wally tilted his head toward the lab. “I just turned in a couple of items for analysis. If one of them matches, we might have found the origin of the substance.”

  “Impressive.” Doris Ann waved toward the doorway she was blocking. “Come with me and I’ll show you what we’ve discovered so far.”

  She led him past a large refrigeration-cooling unit and a smaller freezer, then through the steel door that separated them from the autopsy area.

  Wally and Doris Ann passed X-ray equipment, an electric body lift, and an industrial scale. He was thankful to see that the autopsy table was unoccupied, as he had no desire to see anyone’s internal organs.

  Finally, she escorted him into a small office and sat behind a cluttered desk. Wally took the chair next to it and Doris Ann pulled a folder from the stack in front of her.

  Opening the file, she said, “The fragments we found were tobacco.”

  “He ate a cigarette?” Wally leaned forward to see the line she indicated.

  “Doubtful.” Doris Ann continued, “From the other matter in his stomach, my best guess would be that the tobacco was concealed in a muffin. The lab is testing the paper muffin cups found at the scene right now for traces of nicotine to confirm my suspicions.”

  “Wouldn’t he notice the tobacco?” Wally asked, making a face.

  “It was probably”—she used her fingers to make air quotes—“a ‘healthy muffin’ with flaxseed meal, oat fiber, and lots of spices to mask the flavor. Or he was told the odd taste was some secret nutritious ingredient.”

  “Would ingesting tobacco cause the symptoms that Skye noticed?”

  “Definitely.” Doris Ann pursed her lips. “But the interesting thing is that in the doses that were possible to give him via muffin, the nicotine wouldn’t have killed him. It would just have made him miserable.”

  Wally nodded thoughtfully. “Our K-9 officer alerted to a box of tampons and one of the things he’s trained to detect is nicotine. The tampons are one of the items I dropped off at the lab.”

  “Where did you find it?” Doris Ann asked.

  “In Mrs. Wraige’s bathroom cabinet.”

  “Well, you know what they say.” Doris Ann grinned. “The murderer is always the wife.”

  Chapter 24

  Too Many People

  Skye was chopping the last of the vegetables for the sauce she was making when she heard Wally’s Hummer drive up. It had been a quiet Friday at school. Her only somewhat difficult encounter had been telling Karl that his time as a foreign exchange student in the United States was being cut short.

  The boy had been sad to leave all his new friends; however, he’d brightened when Skye had reminded him that he would be seeing his family soon. Karl had admitted to being a little homesick and happy that he’d be back in Germany in time for his mom’s birthday. He’d bought her a present that he couldn’t wait to give her—a box of Frango Mints and a tin of Garrett Popcorn.

  After meeting with Karl, Skye’s day had gone as scheduled and she’d been able to leave on time. Okay, she’d slipped away a little early. But to make it up, she’d worked through lunch and completed her sixtieth report of the year.

  She’d been determined to get home by three thirty to relieve Dorothy from her nanny duties, and thanks to her five-mile commute and no traffic, she’d made it with seconds to spare. There was only one thing that could have cost her extra time, a red light on the traffic signal at Basin and Kinsman, but she’d gotten lucky and it blinked to green as she approached the intersection.

  Dorothy had an appointment to get her hair cut, colored, and permed for the big Valentine’s Day dance. She wouldn’t tell Skye the identity of her date, but she did say that Skye would approve.

  Skye was happy for the widowed housekeeper. Her husband had been gone for nearly a decade and it was easy to see that she was lonely. Skye only hoped that whoever she was seeing was a nice guy.

  Adding the diced zucchini and squash to the pan containing the caramelized onions and browned hamburger, Skye thought about the eligible Scumble River men in Dorothy’s age range. There really weren’t that many she could picture the housekeeper dating.

  Before she came up with a guess as to the man’s identity, Wally strolled into the kitchen and asked, “What smells so good in here?”

  “Probably the pasta sauce that I’ve been working on for the past hour. I should have read the recipe more carefully. I think my wrist is sprained with all the chopping, slicing, and cubing.” Skye gave Wally a quick hug, then shooed him away and turned back to the stovetop to give the mixture a quick stir. She had four minutes, then she’d add the sliced mushrooms. “Why don’t you go change? I need to get the garlic butter made for the Italian bread and toss the salad.”

  Before heading to the master bedroom, Wally stepped over to kiss the twins, who were in their Jumperoos. Carson had gotten Eva the woodland friends version and CJ the rainforest-themed edition. Both babies adored the lights, sounds, and toys attached to the devices and had been happily bouncing away while Skye cooked.

  When Wally returned, clad in jogging pants and a navy University of Illinois sweatshirt, Skye had already added the broccoli florets and crushed tomatoes, as well as the Italian herbs. She’d also finished the bread and salad.

  Now the sauce could simmer as she and Wally fed the babies.

  Meeting him with two warmed bottles, she said, “Grab a twin.”

  Wally picked up Eva, straightening the yellow bow on her headband and smoothing the gray T-shirt’s little yellow ruffle. Skye lifted CJ into her arms, pulling down his matching, minus the ruffle, T-shirt. They both checked the twins’ yellow pants and found dry diapers.

  Toting the babies and their bottles, Skye and Wally retired to the great room. Getting her little boy into position, Skye could swear he was heavier than yesterday. He and his sister were both developing at an amazingly fast rate. They were already approaching double their birth weight and had grown over six i
nches.

  After her cousin had made a crack about the twins being fat, Skye had consulted their pediatrician. The doctor had assured Skye that their length-to-weight ratio was perfect.

  While Wally and Skye fed the babies, Skye told Wally about her day. She had a little boy for counseling that had cracked her up. He’d told her he wanted a kitten, but his mother was allergic, so instead of giving up on getting a pet, he’d built his mom a house out of a refrigerator box and then told his mother that she could live in the backyard. That way his kitty could stay with him in his room without making her sneeze.

  Skye and Wally were still snickering as they changed the twins and put them into their cribs. Bingo had followed them and taken up his position on the rocker to perform his duties as guard cat.

  Patting Bingo on the head, Skye walked into the kitchen and immediately turned up the flame under the pot of water she had simmering on the stove. She was placing the garlic bread in the oven when Wally joined her. He didn’t think she knew, but he always gave their big black cat a treat for protecting the twins while they slept.

  Smiling at her softhearted husband, Skye said, “Once the water starts boiling, I’ll drop the pasta in and we can eat our salads while it cooks.”

  “Sounds good.” Wally kissed her and started to set the table.

  He was just opening the cupboard door when his phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket, put it on the counter, and swiped the speaker icon, then reached for the plates.

  May’s voice blared from the rectangular device. “You’ll never guess what someone just found stuck on the ice in the river by the dam.” She took a breath then urged, “Go ahead. Guess!”

  “For heaven’s sake. Just tell me.” Wally glanced at Skye, who had stopped what she was doing to listen.

  “Spoilsport,” May groused. Wally remained silent as he took silverware from the drawer and she huffed, “Fine. It was Dr. Wraige’s stolen car. Some kids who decided to go ice skating found it.”

  “Son of a bacon bit.” Wally swore, then exhaled sharply and said, “Tell Quirk to get the car out of there and have it hauled over to Laurel. He’ll need to call the heavy-duty towing company in Kankakee. They own a winch that should be able to remove it from the ice. Then, have him call the crime techs to go over the vehicle and the area around where it went into the river.”