Coming Home (Detective Dahlia Book 1)

by Laurèn Lee

  First, I knelt beside her bed, my knees pressing against the hardwood floors. I reached under her mattress and felt around. I didn't know what I was looking for, just something, anything to help me understand what happened to her. Did she have a secret diary? Or love letters? I silently cursed myself for such a thought. It wasn't 1942; it was 2019. Who mailed letters anymore? Regardless, I lifted the mattress up, and to my disappointment, nothing was hiding underneath it.

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I strode across her room to open her closet door. Black dresses, blouses and sweaters hung from a dozen or so hangers. Only a few low-cut dresses sported a splash of color like red or royal purple.

  I checked each item for pockets. Something could be inside of them. But within a few minutes, I came out empty-handed. As I rifled through Callie's things, a twinge of guilt nagged at me. I was rummaging through a dead girl's belongings. But it had to be done.

  The Keygate PD missed something. They had to have missed something!

  Time dragged on as I fruitlessly dug through Callie's things. I checked every single dresser drawer, under her bed, the top of her closet. I even opened each of her framed photographs to see if something was hidden behind the prints. Doubt settled into my belly like a block of cement. I was coming up short. What kind of police officer was I if I couldn't find any type of clue in a room I spent hundreds of hours in over the years?

  I sat upon Callie's bed and hung my head. I was failing her, failing Callie's parents and failing the community of Keygate. A killer prowled the city, free to do whatever he or she desired to do. No justice. No peace for Callie's spirit. My chest heaved while I breathed, desperately trying to catch my breath. My heart raced as hope dissipated with each passing minute. I massaged my temples as the pain twinged acutely. I needed a drink.

  Then I looked over to the globe on Callie's nightstand. Years ago, we used to play a game where we'd spin the globe, and with closed eyes, we'd stop it with our fingers. Wherever our finger touched, that's where we would travel someday.

  A tear slithered down my cheek as I reminisced about those wonderful times with Callie. I always wondered if we'd be friends as adults. I’d wondered if we'd go shopping together, gossip over a bottle of wine at one of our apartments, or even go to each other's wedding. Now I'd never get the chance. For old time's sake, I reached to spin the globe and play the game one more time.

  As I flicked my wrist to spin the faded globe, a noise rattled within it. My heart skipped a beat. I stopped the globe from spinning, then spun it again. The same noise reappeared. Was something inside the globe? My hands shook as I pulled it off the nightstand and into my lap. I examined it carefully. Then I brought it to my ear and shook it. Something thudded against the hard plastic.

  My breathing rapidly increased as I studied the globe and looked for any way to take the miniature Earth off its stand. Then I noticed a tiny lever on the bottom of the stand. I pulled it, which released the globe. In the next moment, an item fell into my lap: a black cellphone.

  "Holy shit," I whispered.

  I pressed the power button, but nothing happened.

  It must be dead.

  Either way, I’d finally found a clue. And all it took was making a trip down memory lane.

  Thirty-Two

  I slipped the phone in my back pocket. Guilt ricocheted through me, knowing what I was about to do was not only illegal and wrong, but I couldn't bring this to the Keygate PD, at least not yet. While I wasn't privy to the full ins and outs of their investigation, Renlee didn't seem interested in hearing my thoughts, which led me to believe the sergeant wouldn't give a shit either. No, I'd keep investigating on my own until I had solid proof that Callie had a boyfriend and planned to run away with him. If he were married, it would only cast more suspicion on the guy.

  I looked around Callie's room one more time, certain I’d found everything I needed. Well, except the phone's charger, but I'd grab one at a corner store. The look and feel of the phone confirmed it was a burner. Naturally, she wanted to hide her secret love affair, which also made sense why the PD didn't find anything by searching her phone records. There wouldn't be any record of these communications, at least not in the hands of law enforcement.

  With a heavy heart, I closed Callie's door and descended the stairs. Samantha sat in the same spot I'd left her, but she gazed at a magazine in her lap. However, her eyes stayed fixed and unmoving.

  Her eyes widened as I entered the living room. “Well?"

  I shook my head. "I couldn't find anything. I'm so sorry.”

  Callie's mom flicked away a tear. "Oh, it's okay, dear.”

  I couldn't give her false hope that I might have found the best lead yet. I had to be certain the burner phone held important evidence I desperately needed to crack the case open.

  I strode toward the door, and Samantha followed me. The rays of sunshine grew long against the carpet in the living room. Daylight faded before my eyes. As Samantha pulled me into her arms, the faint smell of vanilla and amber wafted into my nose.

  "Thank you for trying," she whispered into my ear.

  The burner phone pressed against my leg in my pocket. I hoped I held the key to open the door for justice. I'd trade anything to make it so.

  I walked toward my house with a heavy heart. I couldn't begin to remember how many times I'd traveled from Callie's to my own. However, I needed to push past the memories, to focus on the task at hand, which was finding out what was on this phone. I grabbed my car keys from my other pocket and hopped inside the vehicle. It smelled of sweat and booze, and I mentally planned when I'd be able to get it washed and detailed.

  I drove down my street, lined with luscious trees, and turned right at the next street: North Avenue. Even though I'd been home for several days now, I couldn't squelch the nagging nostalgia when I traveled down North. It was the main street in Keygate and the best way to get from Point A to Point B.

  I rolled the windows down to feel the rush of cool air against my face. I passed the post office, the library, the local theatre, the strip of newest boutiques and shops, including an artisan ice cream parlor. While some of the exteriors had gotten a facelift since my childhood, it was still essentially the same city where I grew up.

  Lost in my revelry, I almost missed the entrance to a convenience store on my right. I whipped the car into the lot, much to the dismay of the driver behind me who honked and threw up a familiar hand gesture.

  "My bad," I mumbled.

  I walked inside and crinkled my nose while I strolled down the aisles. The white floor tiles were no longer clean but cracked and covered in grit. Rap music with several bleeps in a row bumped through the store's sound system. A few teenagers huddled near the magazines while I found the end cap of electronics.

  The phone chargers, which had a few portals on one key ring, boasted a sale price of $5.99. I pulled out the burner phone from my pocket to ensure one of these cords fit. The second cord on the keyring was an exact match. I also grabbed a burner phone in its packaging. Couldn't hurt to have one of my own, just in case.

  I paid for the charger and phone at the counter, and tried not to make eye contact with the forty-something attendant who wouldn't stop staring at my cleavage.

  As soon as I turned my car on, I plugged one end of the charger into my USB port and the other end into Callie's burner phone. I nibbled on the inside of my cheek while I waited for the phone to pick up a charge. After several seconds it flickered to life. I immediately scanned the text messages and calls. Only one number appeared on her Recents, and it had to be her boyfriend. No doubt he used a burner too. This was some next-level secretive shit. I scoured through the outdated interface to try and find info about the device itself and its given number. After several attempts, I finally found the seven digits I needed.

  With my phone, I dialed a number I knew by heart.

  "Dahlia! Just couldn't stay away, could you?”

  "I need you to work your magic and help me trace a burner.�
�

  "Nice to hear from you! I suspect you're having a good day?" Jake asked.

  My lips turned upward. Jake always managed to paint a smile on my face. "Yeah, sorry. Hi.”

  "All good, Dahlia. I know you just like to use me for my superpowers.”

  "More like evil powers," I replied playfully.

  I pulled out of the convenience store lot, took a left and cruised down North Street back toward my house. My stomach grumbled, and I realized I hadn't eaten much today. Hopefully, my mom cooked something delicious for dinner.

  "Burners can be tricky, but I'll see what I can do," Jake said. "What's the number and general location?”

  I read him the number on Callie's phone, which had to be her boyfriend's digits. Who else could she have communicated with on the burner?

  "Okay, give me a sec," Jake said.

  I furrowed my brow. "Wait, you can trace it that quickly?”

  I stopped before an intersection while a few younger kids crossed the street. Without needing to ask, I knew they were most likely venturing toward the playground across the street from the elementary school a block down. I used to play on the same playground throughout my childhood. While it no longer had a merry-go-round or a swing set that made you feel like you could kiss the sky, many more safety-conscious items stood on the fresh pile of wood chips laid down each spring.

  "And, done. It's definitely a phone in Keygate. It hasn't pinged any towers outside the city limits. There are several numbers this burner has been in contact with. I just emailed you a few things.”

  "Jake, you're a lifesaver," I said.

  It was a wonder Jake could find these records so easily. I imagined it wasn't always a legal method, but sometimes you needed to bend the law to enforce it.

  "I know. Happy investigating, Detective Dahlia." Jake hung up.

  I pulled into my driveway as adrenaline coursed through my veins. My chest rose and fell with veracity. Part of me wondered if I should make myself a drink, with the other louder part of me insisting I didn't need one. The high of knowing I was one step closer to finding Callie's killer was enough for now.

  Thirty-Three

  We sat at the dining room table and dove into the delicious meal my mom prepared: grilled chicken, cheesy scalloped potatoes and a fresh garden salad. The antique chandelier provided a buttery glow of light overhead. Jack played soft jazz on his record player in the background. A sense of comfort and security washed over me. I wanted to bottle this feeling up and save it for whenever I needed reassurance that life wasn't all bad.

  "How's your father doing?" my mom asked while she sipped her cabernet.

  "He's good," I said. "He actually decided to take a road trip to California to visit some of his distant cousins. I think it'll be a good distraction for him.”

  My mom nodded. "And how's the other business going along?”

  At this point, why beat around the bush and just ask about my personal investigation?

  "I had a big break today, actually," I boasted.

  "Good," my mom said as she set down her wine glass. "Those Keygate Police wouldn't know how to find a criminal if he bit them in the ass.”

  Jack shook his head with a smile and patted my mother's back.

  After dinner, the three of us worked together to clear the table, wash the dishes and put them away. Jack kept blowing soap bubbles into the air toward my mom, to which she frowned at his playful tactics. However, at the last minute, she grinned. I hoped one day I'd find a love like this, one that was natural and secure.

  Once everything was tidied up, I retired to my room to continue my investigation: Detective Dahlia and the Case of the Burner Phones. Had a nice ring to it, I supposed. I flopped onto my bed; the long day had exhausted me to my core. By this time, I was usually half in the bag, but for some reason, the glass of wine at dinner sufficed. Maybe focusing on the investigation more seriously pushed the evil cravings away?

  Either way, I wasn't complaining. I noticed a difference in myself even going a day or so without getting wasted. Despite waking up with subtle shakes and nausea, once I put something in my stomach and chugged a few bottles of water, I could think more clearly. Even my face and cheeks appeared less blotchy and bloated.

  I charged Callie's phone until a little "100%" icon shone at the top corner of the screen. Again I scanned through her text messages. They talked about running away together, about abandoning their life in Keygate and starting fresh. They professed their love to each other every day. However, none of the messages, not a single one, included his name or any other identifiable features, information or the like. But I knew, thanks to Jake, he used a burner phone too. And he had other numbers on there. If the man cheated on his wife with Callie, was he cheating on Callie with other women as well? I needed a way to contact this mysterious man without spooking him.

  I set aside Callie's phone and opened the stiff plastic packaging of the new burner phone I purchased at the corner store. It was nearly identical to Callie's. Luckily, the device was pre-charged, so I was able to turn it on right away. I scanned the instructions to see if there was any information I needed to know about the phone, but it was mostly how to turn it on and off, charge it and dispose of it if necessary. I rolled my eyes. Was I trapped in some spy movie where everyone needed coded communication to keep their identities a secret?

  I nibbled on my cheek while I typed in Callie's lover's phone number into my burner phone. I needed to gain his trust early without having to prove who I was too quickly. The man was a cheater, though. I could use that to my advantage. But I only had one shot at this. If he didn't believe me, or if I spooked him, I'd have to find another way to track him down.

  I stared at the blank screen for several minutes until I finally typed a message.

  Hey you!

  My pulse quickened as my stomach somersaulted over and over. I felt queasy as I studied the screen, waiting for him to reply. If he even replied.

  The courage I felt earlier and the desire to not drink suddenly melted away. I needed one, and I needed it now. The old adage was true: waiting is the hardest part. I'd done similar things as an officer, but when you had a personal connection to the outcome, the stakes were raised tenfold.

  I glanced at the time. Each second that passed without a reply, my pessimistic side screamed louder inside my head. I was foolish to think I could trick Callie's murderer to fall into my trap. Surely, if he hadn't been caught by now, he wasn’t sloppy, and he wasn’t careless.

  Just as I rested my head on the pillow, desperation coming to the surface in the form of tears, a distinct ding echoed within my room. I reached for the phone with lightning speed. The home screen read "1 New Message.”

  I opened the text, my heart threatening to explode inside my chest.

  Hey

  While I didn't expect the person to come right out and admit they killed Callie, the one-word response puzzled me. Now what would I say? I needed to trade my mind for the one of a killer's, or at the very least, the mind of a man who cheats on his wife and promises himself to younger women.

  Not sure if you remember me. We met at Hens' Den a while ago. You gave me your number haha

  If the man dated Callie, then it wasn't much of a leap to assume he'd been to the strip club too. My forehead glistened with sweat while my foot bounced against the top of my comforter. Anxiety filled me to my very core. I knew if it ever came to it, none of this would be admissible in court. Especially not Callie's phone, but that was just fine. It was only a vehicle for me to extract more proof. Plus, the cops wouldn't find much on the burner, anyway. The phone was my lure, and I intended to reel in a killer.

  Yeah, I remember you cutie xoxo

  Bile rose in my throat. Did men actually talk like this to other women? I strained to recall when Zac and I first dated. He never spoke like that. Sure, there was some flirting but never anything cheesy and cringeworthy.

  I want to meet up like we talked about handsome xxx

  Shivers sped dow
n my spine. In all honesty, I wanted nothing to do with a cheating murderer, but in order to catch him, I had to put myself and my safety on the line. I wouldn't be able to call for backup or cling to my weapon for security. It was just me.

  Coffee? Tomorrow?

  I wrinkled my nose. Coffee, really? I was hoping to go somewhere more discreet. That way, I could scout out the situation, conduct reconnaissance, prepare. In the broad daylight, though? In public?

  No drinks? :(

  I cracked my knuckles and bit my lip.

  Coffee first. Play second <3

  Damn, this guy was a creep. His poor wife. Did she know her husband was such a sleazebag? Did she know he was a murderer? While I wasn't totally sure this man killed Callie, it wasn't far off to believe so. It was always the husband, or in this case, the secret boyfriend. And it was the only lead I had. I needed to see it through to the bitter end.

  When? Where?

  He replied quickly.

  Tomorrow at 10 @ the Aroma Cafe

  Aroma was located in downtown Keygate, right next to the local theater. I knew it well because I’d gone there in the summertime for free ice cream samples. It was a tiny place, no way to hide in a corner booth and scope out the scene. But at the risk of spooking him, I had to agree.

  See you tomorrow! Xoxo

  Thirty-Four

  Ominous clouds loomed overhead, and rain threatened to appear any moment. Main Street appeared desolate and deserted, which wasn't surprising at this time of day and during an impending storm, no less. This could either work in my favor or against me. It might limit the number of people inside Aroma for me to make a positive ID of the murderer, or it could spook him enough to avoid coming to meet me. Either way, I hoped to at least catch a glimpse of him. Anything I could get would only help me.

  I parked on the same block as the cafe. On the opposite side stood the Keygate Library, a few newer boutiques, and a fitness center. I approached Aroma and passed the theater on its left. The elaborate marquee boasted about a showing of Peter Pan coming the following weekend. On the other side of Aroma was a veterinary clinic that'd been there since I was a young girl.