Kill Her Twice

by G A Pickstock

  Jen pondered the question for a moment. “It’s my guess he was trying to frighten her. I don’t think he would have actually charged her. She was booked on suspicion of interfering with an ongoing investigation, but the case in question is not active, or at least it wasn’t. I’m beginning to wonder if it shouldn’t be reopened now.”

  “You’re right about that, so you are. So what do you think? Is Emily guilty or not?”

  “That’s not for me to say. If it were my decision, I’d drop the whole idea.” Jen looked at Emily. “You are going to stay out of this — right?”

  Up until now, Emily had sat quietly as Jen brought Colm up to speed. Her composure restored, she leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs. “Yes, I suppose I have no choice.”

  “In that case, and since there’s no one left to charge you, I’ll withdraw the complaint. You’re free to go. Colm, you should probably go as well. I’ll call Bob Donovan at regional and find out what they want us to do about a detachment commander and the investigation. I’ll let you know what he says. Keep your phone on.”

  Colm didn’t need to be told twice. Taking Emily by the hand, he ushered her out into the corridor and down the hall to the front entrance. Two minutes later, they pulled out of the parking lot, almost colliding with a metallic blue sedan.

  “Bloody woman driver. You need to watch where yer goin’, ya silly twat!”

  “That was close!” Emily shifted in her seat to look behind as the sedan drove past them. “She wasn’t looking at all where she was going.”

  Colm watched through his rearview mirror as the sedan turned the corner at the end of the road.

  “If I had my badge, I’d chase her down and charge her with careless driving.”

  Chapter 20

  Mark pulled his minivan into the spot behind Jim’s pickup truck. Jim and Audri were waiting for them outside. Mary glanced at Mark as he switched off the van’s engine.

  “There’s one missing. Where is Frieda?” She nodded toward the couple on the step.

  “I wasn’t able to get through to her. Her phone keeps going to voicemail, and I can’t leave a message. I’ll try her again in a little while.”

  Getting out of the car, Mark nodded toward the door, and the foursome disappeared indoors.

  “Jesus, Jim, don’t you ever clean your house?” Mark pushed some newspapers out of the way to make room on Jim’s couch.

  “You don’t like it, clean it yourself. I’m kinda fond of it, so why are you here? What the hell is going on?

  “Shit’s getting real. Have you read the paper today?” Mark made room for Mary to sit beside him.

  Jim cleared an armchair for Audri to sit and perched himself on an ottoman next to her.

  “You talking about Kallita’s purse? Hell, we’ve known about that for a couple of days. What’s the big deal?”

  “You didn’t think to tell me? Jesus, I’ve had a cop at my place asking a lot of questions. How about you?”

  “Cop? No, no cops. Not yet, anyway. Why would the cops want to talk — oh shit! Emily.”

  “Emily? Who the hell is Emily?”

  “Emily is my neighbour. She lives right next door. When she found the purse, she came over to tell me about it. She wanted to know if I knew anything about Kallita. So, OK, she’s got the police all stoked up, so what? There’s nothing to find. They can’t trace anything back to us.”

  Mark was beside himself. He couldn’t believe Jim would leave him in the dark like this. “You could have warned me about this purse. Maybe then I would have been prepared for that cop. It came as a total surprise to us, and I think we may have said more than we should. We all need to get on the same page, or we might find ourselves in deep shit. Have you heard from Frieda? She needs to be here.”

  Audri perked up at the mention of Frieda’s name. “I haven’t talked to or seen her in years. Emily works for her at All-Comm.”

  “All-Comm?” Mary’s flashed a wide-eyed look at her husband. “I heard something on the radio about All-Comm on the way over. Something about a woman being found dead in her car. You don’t think — no, it couldn’t be — could it? Mark, try her number again.”

  He tried Frieda’s number. “Nothing it just goes to voicemail. I wonder if it is her.” An idea crossed his mind. Tapping an icon on his phone, he searched the Internet for All-Comm’s number. Bypassing the automatic answering system, he jabbed “0” to get to a live operator.

  “Hi, this is Amy, thank you for calling All-Comm, how can I help you?”

  “I’d like to speak with Frieda Gerst, please.” Mark tapped the speaker icon on his phone, so the rest could hear.

  “I’m sorry, sir, Ms. Gerst is — er ah — unable to come to the phone right now. Is there anyone else who can help you?”

  “No, I really must speak with Frieda.” Mark insisted.

  “Sir, I’m sorry, but Ms. Gerst is unable to — er that is she won’t be — ahm — she’s no longer with the company. Are you sure—”

  Mark ended the call. Staring at the faces in the room, he could see what everyone was thinking.

  “Jesus! Maybe she is dead. We need to find out. Mary, call the hospital. You still know one or two over there. See what you can find out.”

  Mary grabbed her phone from her purse and stepped into the kitchen to make the call. Moments later she returned, her face drained of all colour. She steadied herself as she made her way back to the couch.

  “So, it’s true.” Mark sensed he was right.

  “You’re not going to believe this. I spoke to Miriam Clarke in Pathology. They’ve had two deaths reported today. She’s not allowed to say, but when I asked if one of them was Frieda, she didn’t deny it. All she would say about them was that one was a woman of about fifty-five, and the other was a man, a cop around the same age, a little older maybe.”

  Mark froze in his seat. He couldn’t break eye contact with Mary; his stomach flipped, and the sensation deep in his bowels made him weak. Fearing the worst, he dialled his cousin’s cell number.

  “Damn it! Doesn’t anyone answer the phone these days? Jesus.” Hanging up, he dialled the detachment.

  “I need to speak to Staff Sergeant Clifford, please, it’s important.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. Staff Sergeant Clifford is unavailable. Can anyone else help you?”

  Frustrated, Mark spat back. “No, no one else can help me. Just tell me one thing. Is he likely to be back anytime soon?” The silence on the other end almost confirmed his suspicion.

  Finally, the response came. “Sir, maybe you should get in touch with our Regional Commander. I can transfer you if you would like.”

  “No, thank you. I don’t think I need to…” Mark dropped his phone on the floor and slumped into the back of the couch.

  “I think Dan might be dead.”

  * * *

  “I think that’s Mark Taylor’s car. What would he be doing here?” Colm shifted the Mini into first gear and pulled on the handbrake. Pressing the button to stop the engine, he stepped out and checked the front of the Toyota. “Yep, it’s his.”

  “How do you know?” Emily stood at the step, waiting.

  “Same number plate. It’s his all right.” Colm climbed the steps to Emily’s front door. Scratching his chin, he looked at her and grinned. “I need a shave. This is beginning to itch.”

  “I kind of like it,” Emily smiled. “Makes you look — I don’t know — dangerous. I want to get out of these clothes; they stink like your prison. There’s food in the fridge. Make us a sandwich or something. I’ll be down in a minute.” Colm watched her as she trotted up the stairs. He could still feel her heart beating against him as she held him at the police station. His mother’s voice crept into his mind. Colm, you mind now you treat that girl like she was your sister. But mam! She’s not my sister, and I don’t want her to be. Shaking the thought from his head, he went into the kitchen to make the sandwiches.

  Freshly dressed, Emily stepped off the bottom step, almost colli
ding with Colm as he walked into the living room with two plates of sandwiches and a couple of bottles of beer tucked under his arms.

  “Easy girl, you’ll have this all down the front of you if you’re not careful.” He swerved to miss being knocked down by the five-foot two stick of dynamite barrelling toward him.

  Her eyes sparkled, and her face glowed, “Spill it over me. I don’t care. I’m free! And I’ve got you to clean it up, so do your worst.” Emily teased him. She was still euphoric, and she wanted the mood to stay light, if only for a short time. She took a plate, sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to her for him to sit.

  “You want me to sit here why?” As if I’d pass up the chance.

  “Why not? You’re my new hero you saved me and brought me out of that pit, and I’m happy about that.”

  “Well, sure, but there was no way you were going to be charged. You were never in any danger of going to prison.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, if Dan Clifford could have, he would have put me away and tossed the key. He must have had a lot to hide.” Emily’s mood changed. “Why, and who would want to kill him?” Her eyes began to moisten. “Colm, I’m scared. First Frieda, now Clifford. Somebody doesn’t want us to find out what happened to Kallita. Do you think whoever it is, is trying to silence those who knew her? Who would have a motive to do that?”

  Before he could answer, she snuggled in a little closer to him, pressing her hip against his. His scent was strong, he needed a shower, but the warmth of his closeness comforted her. Turning her face to his, she whispered in his ear, “You really are my hero.” She kissed him softly on the cheek and laid her head on his shoulder.

  Up until now, Colm had maintained his composure. Focusing on the case and the facts surrounding it made it a little easier to resist the urge to take the next step. Emily’s closeness and vulnerability made it impossible to ignore. The tingle he felt as she moved closer to him, the softness of her voice as she whispered, and the silkiness of her lips on his cheek, caused his body to react in ways he could no longer control. He turned his face and kissed her, softly at first, and then again as she parted her lips in response. As he took her in his arms, pulling her closer to him, feeling the heat of her body against his, his mother’s voice came to him once more. Colm! He closed his eyes and put her out of his mind. Not now, mam!

  Chapter 21

  Colm’s phone vibrated in his shirt pocket. He wanted to ignore it, but Emily felt it also. Breaking their embrace, her face beaming, she pulled the phone from his pocket and looked at the screen.

  “It’s Jen.” She handed the phone to Colm.

  Colm swiped the screen to answer. “Yes, Jen, what’s up? — Really! — How? I mean — I thought it was all done, the way he spoke — I don’t get it but — yes, you’re right. I’ll be right there; give me ten minutes.” Colm ended the call. “I have to go back to the detachment.”

  “Why? What’s going on?” Emily grabbed the plates with the uneaten sandwiches from the coffee table and took them to the kitchen.

  “Jen needs to see me. Apparently, the Regional Commander is on his way into the office, and I have to be there. She wouldn’t say anything else.” Colm scratched his chin. The itch from his beard growth was getting worse. “I really need to shave before I go back.”

  “Yes, and you could do with a shower. Can you do all that in ten minutes?” Emily grinned at him holding her nose.

  “Naw, I think they’ll have to take me as they find me this time. Jen was adamant about me getting back there quickly.”

  “Ten minutes, twenty minutes, what’s the difference? Jen will wait. I’ll get you some towels, and there is a razor up in the bathroom you can use.”

  Colm grinned at Emily’s take-charge attitude. “Now, what would you be doin’ with a man’s razor in yer house?” His grin widened as she pointed him to the stairs.

  “Away you go, Mr. Colm O’Byrne. Go take a shower. You stink. And the razor is none of your business,” she said, smiling.

  “You’re awful bossy, Miss Emily, are you sure you’re not Irish yerself?”

  Colm emerged from his shower, freshly shaved and smelling a lot better. Emily snatched her purse from the table and started for the door. “Let’s go then.”

  “Hold on—” Colm stepped in front of her— “where are you going?”

  “With you silly. You don’t honestly think I’m going to sit here on my own, wondering what’s going on, do you? Besides, my car is still at All-Comm, and I need to go and get it.” The defiance in her eyes told Colm not to argue.

  “Fine, but you will probably have to wait in reception until I’m done.”

  “Fine! Let’s go.” She pushed Colm through the doorway.

  Colm watched as Emily turned the key in the lock and tried the doorknob to be sure it was secure. She turned and froze, her right foot hovering above the top step. Motionless, she stared past Colm at something across the road.

  “What? Did you forget something?” Colm turned to see what Emily was looking at.

  She slowed her pace and stepped down onto the sidewalk. “Get in the car, something’s not right.” Once inside, she said, “Isn’t that the same blue Buick that almost hit us at the detachment?” She nodded in the direction of a dark blue sedan parked a few doors up and across the street from the condos.

  “Could be. It’s hard to say. There must be thousands of those cars around, and I never got the plate number, so I can’t be sure.”

  “Well, I can be sure. It had an out of town dealer plaque on the licence plate frame. When we leave, let’s drive by and check it out. Instead of turning left, turn right and drive around the block. Come in from behind, and we’ll get the number.”

  Colm nodded and pulled the Mini out of the driveway. Driving around the block, they came upon the spot where the blue Buick should have been.

  “I can’t believe it. It’s gone! Do you think she recognized us?”

  Colm shook his head, “Maybe, we might catch up to her. In any event, I have to get to the office. We can look for the blue car later.

  * * *

  An uneasy silence pervaded Jim’s living room. The thought that Frieda was dead, and that Dan Clifford might also be lying on a slab in the morgue, frightened Mark. The others were too stunned to understand what it could mean. He needed to shed some light on the subject to warn the group. No one knew what he was about to tell the group, not even Mary. It would change the dynamic, and not in a good way. Mark shifted in his seat, not sure how to order his words.

  “Guys, I have a confession to make. I’ve been holding a secret for a long time, and you need to know what it is. Dan Clifford found Kallita back in February ’92— ” Mark continued to relate the details…

  February 1992

  “You’re joking, right? Dan, what on earth were you thinking?” Mark paced back and forth across his kitchen floor. The apartment was large as apartments go. Two bedrooms with a huge kitchen, and a living/dining room large enough to have a party of twenty or more.

  “You found her and didn’t say anything?”

  Dan hung his head, ashamed at the mistake he had made.

  “She’s such a hateful bitch. I couldn’t bring myself to identify her. I guess part of me was hoping she might die. If you saw her, you’d think so too. She was lying there with the machines doing all the work. I don’t think she’ll make it.”

  “You had better hope she bites it. If she does pull through and finds out you were there, she’ll have your balls for breakfast.”

  “I know, I know, but she might not ever find out I was there.”

  “That’s wishful thinking, and you know it.”

  “You’re right, but there’s a bigger issue here, and that is; how did she wind up there in the first place? I hate to say it, but if she dies, this all goes away, and she’s just another missing person. If she lives, then I could find myself in hot water, but what happened to her was no accident.” Mark stopped pacing and shot his cousin a nervous look. “You know
what I mean.” Dan glared back at him. “Think it through. Kallita disappears for three weeks and turns up in hospital in a coma. We find her car abandoned on a country road, there’s blood all over, and the seats soaked with river water. I’ve seen enough accident scenes to know that there’s more to this than meets the eye. What we don’t know is how she wound up in the Kingston hospital. I didn’t put her there, and I know damn well you didn’t. Someone out there found her, dropped her at the hospital, and for whatever reason, hasn’t said boo about it. Why? I don’t know. I pray she doesn’t wake up, but if she does—” Dan’s eyes bored into his cousin’s. “I’d better go. For everyone’s sake, I hope she never wakes up.”

  * * *

  Jim couldn’t believe his ears. “You’ve known all these years and haven’t said a word. Why? Why would you keep that a secret?”

  “Why? Because my cousin’s job was at stake. We had no choice, and what would you have done? You no more wanted her here than anyone else. Let’s face it. We all have reason to hate Kallita. I don’t think there’s two people in this town who gave a rat’s ass when she vanished. Dan kept tabs on the hospital for months. He kept expecting Kallita to either die or wake up. Well, she did wake up and never said boo. Not a word about who she was, or the accident, or Dan, or anything. Dan couldn’t go back, asking questions. He made some round-about inquiries through some paramedic buddies of his. It turned out that Kallita had amnesia. She couldn’t remember anything. Not long after, she did what we all hoped had happened and went away. Dan had no idea where, and we never heard about her again. That is until this purse showed up. This neighbour of yours has screwed things up, and now Frieda is dead. Dan too, if I'm right.”