by Dale Mayer
“The coroner will be on it,” Colby said. “As soon as it’s pulled, we can get the forensics people on it.”
She nodded. “Whatever it is, it still means that she was murdered. We’re just at the beginning of the investigation.”
“Good, that’s a good thing.”
“Why?” she asked.
“To keep you busy,” he said cheerfully. “I’m sure an awful lot of people were there watching.”
“There was, and there wasn’t. A lot of people but nobody saw anything.”
“They didn’t see anything because they didn’t comprehend anything,” Colby said. “You have to jog their memories, so that they can remember something.”
“I think we talked to about thirty-seven potential witnesses, and then you had how many more?” Rodney asked Kate.
She said, “I talked to another twelve, I think.”
“There will be people who saw things but didn’t realize that they saw something.” Colby tilted his head at her.
In that moment, she realized what he was talking about. “You want me to go back and talk to them?”
“Leave it for a couple days. And then go.”
She nodded.
“Did anybody catch your suspicion?” he asked, turning to look at her, then Rodney and back to her.
“Yeah, six of them left the scene, after supposedly calling it in, and went to have pizza.”
“Pizza?” He stared at her, then shook his head. “So seeing death made them hungry?”
Her face cracked into a smirk. “That’s what I said. … But they were all about not wanting to hang around and not wanting to wait for the whole investigation to happen. They figured that, if anybody wanted to talk to them, it would take hours anyway.”
“And it might have. But presumably you did talk to them?”
She nodded. “I did, and all of them very helpfully provided their parents’ addresses instead of where they’re living right now.”
At that, his eyebrows went up again. Then he thought about it, shrugged. “I’m not sure that was deliberate as much as instinctive. Where do you live? Well, I live in Burnaby.”
“In this case they lived all around the province, which is how I knew that they were all living in the residence housing.”
“Did you get those addresses too?”
She nodded. “Of course. And the cell phones.”
“Good, then I guess we better check to see if any of the cell phone numbers given belong to them.”
“Those six, you mean?”
He smiled. “If you were talking to all university students, I wouldn’t put it past them to offer somebody else’s cell phone number.”
“Thinking this is a joke or with ill intent? What are you thinking?”
“I had one case, and it taught me a lesson I never forgot. Somebody on campus was strangled to death at a party, and everybody at the party gave somebody else’s number. So, we had all these wrong numbers, and, in fact, we even had a couple duplicates, but we didn’t know that until we sat down and compared our notes.”
“Right, and was it done to confuse the issue?”
“Nope, they thought it was a lark. They didn’t really seem to get the seriousness of the fact that somebody had died.”
“Jesus,” she said.
“It’s not that they were being foolish or stupid or intentionally difficult. It was just their mind-set at the time. They were all half high on drugs, alcohol, and sex. Half high on college life, living the dream, and pushing aside their responsibilities.” He sighed. “They weren’t even thinking about anything real going on in their world, beyond enjoying that moment. And, once somebody lied, and they all figured out what was going on, they all did it.”
“Did you haul them all back in again?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, with a big fat grin. “Hauled them all in, contacted all the parents. Yep, that was fun. Now it’s your turn.”
“I don’t think that’s the case here, although one or two of them were completely belligerent.”
“But you get that all the time, don’t you?”
“Yes, and I’ve never quite understood it. We often get the shock, the denial, those who are curious, and then others who are very worried and afraid that something they might have done will surface, even though they probably haven’t done anything at all. But belligerence? Not so much. And, in this case, there was an arrogance, an attitude of entitlement, like, ‘Hey, you know who I am? I’m somebody special, and you shouldn’t be talking to me,’ or the like,” she muttered.
“Yeah, he’s probably got a wealthy family. Don’t forget. BC is full of wealthy families, and we have a lot of international students. Was he from Canada?”
She grabbed her notebook, checked, and shook her head. “No, he wasn’t. I think he was from Germany.”
“I don’t know about Germany, but we have a lot of—”
“No, wait. He was from South Africa,” she corrected immediately.
“That could explain it too. Check in with him in a few days. See how his attitude is then.”
She nodded. “One of the females was really quiet, like hiding, trying to blend into the furniture to avoid getting involved.”
“You definitely need to follow up with her then.” Colby gave her a knowing smile.
Rodney glanced at her, his fingers still working on his keyboard. “You’re usually pretty good at reading people.”
“I would think so,” she said. “Something was off about that young woman for sure.”
“Off in what way?” he asked.
“I don’t think it was a fear of being interviewed. It might have been fear of the others in the group.”
At that, he slowly turned to face her.
“I don’t know what it was,” she said. “I’ll follow up.”
“Maybe you better not wait a few days for that one then.”
“I know. I’m wondering if they saw something or were involved somehow, and they’re worried about her speaking up.”
“I hope not,” he said quietly. “Because, if that’s the case, and they’ve already killed once, they could quickly decide she’s a liability and needs to be terminated too.”
*
After his midday stopover at home, Simon walked through the alleyway, heading toward the next project he was looking at doing. He’d planned to stay in for the afternoon but had felt cooped up so was back out looking at properties. He had tried to buy the property a month ago, and the Realtor had gotten snippy and had refused to place a second offer, so he had walked. As it was, it was still for sale. He wandered through it yet again. These old buildings were never locked up. They should be because the homeless would move in, but, in this case, it appeared to still be empty and still livable, which just increased the chances that the homeless would find it sooner or later.
Although … maybe not. He got an odd feeling from it, like a really odd feeling.
He frowned as he walked through, having remembered that same odd sensation from before. As he took several more steps inside, he stopped and sniffed the air, then immediately retreated. However, realizing that nobody would listen to him if he didn’t see the proof of what it was, what he thought he was sensing, he would have to go in and take another look.
Sighing, he strode quickly and confidently through the main floor. Seeing nothing, he moved up to the second floor, and, with the same result, on up to the third, only to find nothing again. Stunned, and not knowing what the hell was going on with his senses, he turned and looked around. “Thank God I didn’t call the cops,” he muttered to himself. “But what the hell is going on?”
Normally the smell of something dead was easily recognizable and definable. But now, he had no doubt that the smell remained. He turned slowly, did a more thorough search of the empty building, then headed back down to the main entranceway, eager for fresh air. As he walked out the front door, the Realtor appeared with another set of clients. She glared at him. He just shrugged and walked away.
“I can always put in another offer,” she said.
“I wouldn’t add any money to it,” he said calmly, as he carried on. He heard them talking behind him.
He turned as he went around the corner and cast a glance back, watching them heading into the building. Good. Maybe they would smell something. Of course, if they did find something dead in there, he’d be placed at the scene of the crime, and that would cause him no end of hell. He wasn’t sure what was going on there, but something was definitely weird. His sense of smell remained heightened, as he carried forward.
Unnerved and put off, he finished his day and walked toward the little coffee shop. Even though he had a date with the good detective tonight, it could be later in the evening before he caught up with her, so he upped his interrupted lunch with a sandwich now to tide him over. Then he went in, hit immediately by the incredible smell of coffee. With his olfactory senses on high alert, he ordered coffee and a sandwich, then sat in the outside section of the restaurant and enjoyed his dinner thoroughly. Something was refreshing about the scent of the day and about the air around him. He didn’t know what it was, but something was just off today.
When his phone rang, he smiled to see it was the beautiful Kate Morgan. “Good afternoon, Detective Morgan,” he said, his voice silky.
“Oh no, you don’t,” her voice was testy. “No fair using that sexy voice on me right now.”
“You’re working still, I presume.” His smile widened.
“Yes, I’m working. We had plans for tonight, but I’ve got to push them off.”
“Push them off or push them back?” he asked calmly, checking his watch. “It’s only four-thirty now.”
“I know, but it won’t get any better. I’ve got a lot of testimonies and camera images here to go through.”
He hesitated and asked, “You’ll work at home?”
“I’m still at the office, so I’m not sure.”
It was obvious that she was really distracted by whatever was going on in her world. He immediately decided to let her off the hook. “Tomorrow then?”
“Yes, as long as this case doesn’t run over and take over tomorrow too.”
“A little bit of help might keep it under control for you.”
“Maybe. Rodney is on the case with me.”
Simon vaguely remembered Rodney. More of a big hulking teddy-bear type than anything. “I’m sure that’ll be helpful,” he said quietly.
“It will be. Rodney’s good. And he’s not very in my face about anything, so that’s always welcome.”
“He’s obviously not at your side either.” Simon laughed.
“No, he stepped out.”
“Is he going home?”
“No, I don’t think so, but he’ll be back. Oh, I know. I think he was just grabbing some food.”
“Have you got anything with you?”
“No,” she said quietly. “I’ll get something in a bit.”
“If you would accept a delivery, I’d send something over.”
“I’m not quite ready. Maybe in an hour or two I can leave this place for a bit and go home. The change of pace might clear my head.”
“It probably would. I’ll check in with you in a little bit, and we’ll see how you’re doing.” With that, he rang off, placed his phone on the table beside him, and polished off his light dinner.
He stared out at the humming bustling street around him. That was the problem with being with a cop. She would always be busy, and there would always be another case. It’s funny that it had never concerned him before. It wasn’t anything he’d ever bothered with. He had always tried to stay clear of the police. He didn’t get into anything that was too shady or would involve an investigation, so he had managed to spend the bulk of his life without having any contact with them. But now he could think of nothing else. Well, with one detective anyway.
He’d like to have contact with her anytime, anyplace. He smiled, pocketed his phone, and picked up his coffee. He took another big sip, closing his eyes at the absolutely stunning aroma, as it drifted through his nostrils.
Shaking his head and wondering what was going on with his senses, he got up from the table and moved off down the street. Absolutely everything looked, seemed, and smelled far better and stronger than before. When a vehicle went by, shooting out a black cloud of exhaust, he frowned because the scent, the smoke, just assailed his senses, making him wince. Not only were the good things amplified but so were the bad ones.
Deciding that home would be better than this, he turned and headed back in the direction of his own place.
Chapter 5
Kate put down her phone and turned toward her monitors. From behind her, Lilliana said, “You know that you do get to leave. You get to have a life.”
Kate turned to look at her. “I didn’t realize you were still here.”
“Absolutely. We’ve also got a case that’s driving us nuts.”
“Right, you caught that downtown hotel shooting case, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, and it’s crazy,” she said.
Kate knew she looked just as tired as she felt, nowhere near as perfect as Lilliana always seemed to appear. And that said something about how Kate felt about her case. “I’m sorry. That has to be rough.”
“Hey, you know how it is. We’re all in the same boat here.” Lilliana gave her a one-arm shrug. “It’s always a juggling act between our professional and personal lives.”
Kate sighed, leaned back, rotated her neck and head a little, then added, “Simon’s a bit of a different case.”
“I’m quite surprised to see that you’re still dating him.”
At that, Kate studied Lilliana, wondering what she was getting at. She didn’t feel any animosity or any nastiness and hadn’t since the first few days, where it was more a case of being avoided than being negative. “And why is that?”
“It’s the whole psychic-connection thing,” Lilliana said, giving a little shiver. “I’d be worried he knew things about me that I’d just as soon keep to myself.”
“Nothing to hide really. Although I think Rodney said something about him reading my mind.”
At that, Lilliana looked horrified.
Kate laughed. “I don’t even think that’s possible to do.”
“Yeah, but you don’t know—like, you really don’t know. There could be all kinds of things that he can do.”
“So far it’s just numbers and connecting with victims, and I think that’s enough for him. He’s not happy about any of this as it is.”
“Do you believe him?”
Lilliana’s questions seemed to show a sincere curiosity, and, as such, Kate treated it that way. After a moment’s thought, she said, “As much as I hate to, and as hard as I’ve tried to negate everything he’s come up with, I’ve found myself believing him. I don’t think I believe anybody else, and it would take an awful lot for me to get there, but I really am at the point of concluding that the information he’s provided is true.”
“It’s been helpful, right?” Lilliana questioned.
“Yeah,” Kate said, “that’s the problem. I haven’t found a way to dismiss it, and that’s made it very difficult.”
“Of course.” Lilliana nodded. “It’s one thing to disbelieve. It’s another thing to have the proof presented and then still disbelieve—since it makes you sound like you’re just being difficult and don’t want to look at the evidence.”
“And it’s always about evidence for me.” Kate gave a quick nod, as she turned to face her monitors. “But that still doesn’t mean that I’ll automatically believe everything he says going forward.”
Lilliana burst out laughing. “You don’t ever want to do that in a relationship anyway, right?”
She smiled to herself. “Isn’t that the truth.” She laughed and turned to look at Lilliana. “What about you? Do you have a partner?”
Lilliana smiled. “Well, I did. I was married for twenty-plus years,” she said. “Then about eighteen months ag
o, we had an amicable split.”
“Is there such a thing?” Kate asked in wonder.
Lilliana burst out laughing. “Yes. The last few years we were together mostly for the kids, and then it was like, okay, this isn’t even working for the kids now. So, it was time to shift. The kids go back and forth, and I honestly think they’re happier. We’re happier. It’s all good.” She shrugged. “Besides, I have so many late nights, this way they have a little more stability.”
“Yeah, I’m surprised that so many cops even have relationships. When you think about it, we’re a bad bet.”
“We are, indeed, but look at perfect-family-man Owen. Plus, I do have another partner now, who’s a better fit. He’s also a cop, and you’ll see him around every once in a while, if we stay together.” She gave another shrug. “I’m not so sure about that, but it’s good right now, and it keeps me grounded, and that’s really important.”
“The grounding?”
“Yes. Having somebody to go home to at the end of the day really matters. Like what Owen has. Cops who are happily married handle the job stress better, and they last longer in this job. They don’t burn out as quickly. But only if they can keep the marriage together of course.”
“That’s good to know,” Kate said. “There’s got to be something, some redeeming reason, to keep these guys in our world.”
And again, Lilliana burst out laughing. “You really have a great sense of humor. I’m sorry that I haven’t allowed myself to recognize it until now.”
“Not a problem. I wasn’t terribly popular or chatty when I first came on board.” Of course she still wasn’t either of those things, but she wouldn’t say that right now.
“It wasn’t you. You know that, right?”
“I know,” she said. “It was the fact that I wasn’t Chet.”
Lilliana nodded. “He was a good guy, and we’d gotten to know his wife and his kids really well. It’s hard because we’d become a family, an imperfect and slightly dysfunctional family, but a family just the same.”
