Red Red Rose

by Stephanie Hoffman McManus

  After Clint and Shep left, I tried calling Spencer, hoping he wouldn’t mind that it wasn’t even six yet, but he didn’t answer. My stomach sank. I wanted to talk to him. I needed his reassurance, or maybe I just needed him.

  I made sure the alarm was set when I left the house, but I still couldn’t shake the creepy feeling I had. The sun wasn’t up yet, and the dark did little to help that feeling. By the time I got into work, I’d managed to shake it off. I planned to call Detective Parker, I wanted an update on the case and hoped he would be able to give me some advice on how to handle my stalkerish situation, because that’s clearly what it was turning into.

  I hoped Spencer would be in this morning. I was sure he’d have an opinion on Nathan being outside my house last night. Around nine, I got a message from him that he had work stuff to handle, but he would try to be in later. The shop was extremely busy and Reggie and I were both working to get Tiffany up to speed, so I didn’t take the time to text him back.

  It was almost noon when a group of ladies from an office a few blocks away came in on their break, and I couldn’t help but hear the conversation they were having. Apparently Dana Winters had been found this morning. Reggie heard them too.

  “Do you want me to turn the news on?”

  I shook my head. “No, I really don’t think I can deal with it this morning.” But I couldn’t escape it. I couldn’t stop wondering if anything had been left with the body. Another business card or some other clue that tied Emily to the killer.

  By three, Spencer still hadn’t stopped by and to make matters worse, Mitch didn’t show up for his shift and wasn’t answering his phone. I was able to get Cassie to come in and once again she was dropped off by Will. She bounced in cheerfully, until she caught on to the mood in the shop. I wasn’t the only somber one. Cassie hadn’t heard the news yet. She blushed when she said she and Will hadn’t left bed all day until I’d called. I sort of wished I could lock myself away from the world in my bedroom with Spencer and just ignore everything but him. It would be so nice to escape, if even just for a little while.

  I left Cassie and Nina in charge up front and went to the office. I tried calling Spencer first, but only reached his voicemail. I didn’t leave a message. He’d see that I called. Next I called Detective Parker. At least he answered, and after asking him if they’d discovered anything when Dana was found, he informed me that he’d been about to call me and then requested that I stop by the station tonight when I got off work or in the morning. Reggie was opening the next day so I let Detective Parker know I would be in first thing the next day. I hoped this meant they had something.

  When I closed up the shop, I regretted not telling the detective I would stop by tonight. As late as it was, I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep with so many questions running through my brain. I went home and discovered a large bouquet of roses on my porch. The sight of them soured my stomach. It had been a few weeks and I wasn’t happy he was back at it. I supposed it beat coming home to find him waiting on my porch. Rather than take them inside, I just scooped them up and threw them out into the yard. I was sick of Nathan and this whole day.

  I went in and avoided the news, but called my mother. Not surprisingly, she was anxious with worry and I could tell she’d been holding herself back from calling me all day. Before we hung up she insisted that I call her the moment I left the station in the morning.

  Then I tried James. I was surprised to reach him as he’d already left the state, and was currently somewhere else in the country or world. He didn’t say where, but did let me know he’d talked to his parents who had to make their own visit to the police station today. He said they didn’t learn much, only that they were asked to identify any items as belonging to Emily. They told him it was clothing, but they were unable to say for sure if any of it was hers. I figured that’s what Detective Parker wanted me for. I would know.

  I promised him the same thing I had my mother, that I would call him after my chat with the detective and let him know what was up. Even if I had to leave a message on his voicemail, he wanted to be kept up to date and said if I didn’t get him, he’d call me back as soon as he could. A third call to Spencer went unanswered, yet again.

  His sweatshirt from the day before was slung over the back of my couch. I grabbed it up and slipped it on, not caring that it wasn’t clean. It smelled like him. I curled up on the couch, but when I shifted, something in the pocket crinkled. I pulled out a slip of paper and unfolded it. It was a piece of stationary from a local motel with several phone numbers scribbled on it. At first I just folded it back up and set it on the coffee table, but after a while my curiosity got the best of me. I looked up the phone number for the motel and called them.

  I asked the manager on duty if Spencer Shaw was a guest. I was surprised when he confirmed that Spencer was staying there. He asked if I wanted him to connect me to his room, I hesitated before saying yes. He connected me, but all it did was ring with no answer. I hung up and thought back over the conversations I’d had with Spencer. I guess I never asked him if he lived in Bellingham, but just assumed. He had mentioned he hadn’t been here long, but it’d been over two months since he started coming into the shop. That was a long time to be staying here just for business, and he never said he was here just on business. It seemed weird that he wouldn’t mention that if he was. He had said however, that he had to go to Everett and Seattle a few times on business. I supposed it was possible he’d only moved here in the last couple months and was living in a motel until he found a place. It was difficult to find a good rental in a college town during the school year. I trusted Spencer and knew he’d call me when he could.

  I dozed off on the couch, wrapped in his sweatshirt only to be awakened not long after by my ringtone. I reached for my phone, hoping it was Spencer, but came up disappointed when it was Nathan’s contact on my screen. I rejected the call, but he just called back. The second time I answered, prepared to let him know that if he didn’t back off I was going to talk to the cops about his obsessive and stalkerish behavior. I didn’t quite get that far. As soon as I answered, he started in anxiously.

  “Nora, where are you?”

  “You mean you’re not sitting outside my house?” I asked bitterly.

  “What? No. You’re at home?”

  “Where else would I be at ten-thirty at night, Nathan?”

  “I don’t know, with that guy.”

  “He has a name.”

  “I know, he’s the reason I’m calling. I need to talk to you about him.”

  “No. We’re not talking about anything. You need to listen. Stop calling me. Stop leaving flowers. Stop showing up at my house and starting fights with my friends, and for crying out loud stop sitting outside my house in the middle of the night. Just stay away from me,” I cried into the phone.

  “What the hell are you talking about, Nora? Flowers? We’ve been over this, I haven’t been sending you flowers, and I sure as hell wasn’t sitting outside your house in the middle of the night. What is going on?”

  “Quit lying to me Nathan. I know it’s you. A neighbor saw your car outside my house at two in the morning last night, and then flowers mysteriously showed up on my porch while I was at work today. It’s not charming or romantic, Nathan, it’s creepy.”

  “I swear it wasn’t me, Nora. It was probably that guy you’re with. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. He’s bad news. I looked into him. The guy’s a piece of work. All kinds of trouble when he was a kid; arrested multiple times for fighting. When he turned eighteen, the courts finally told him to join up or he was getting locked up, so he enlisted. I tried to check out his military records but they’re sealed. There’s nothing on him, not even about his discharge. Since getting out, he hasn’t left behind any records either, at least not that I can access. That’s weird, Nora. No parking tickets, no credit cards, no job. He’s flying completely under the radar.”

  “So what!”

  “So what? Why does a guy do that unle
ss he’s hiding something? And why have the feds been questioning him all day?”

  “What?” There was no masking the shock in my voice.

  “I was talking to Elizabeth,” at her name, my jaw reflexively tightened. “She has info about the strangler case that the public doesn’t get to hear and she’s been keeping tabs on it. I asked her to keep me updated, and she said they’ve been watching your boy closely for a while and they had him in their interrogation room all day.”

  I was shaking my head even though he couldn’t see it. “He has nothing to do with this. You’re trying to mess with me.”

  “No I’m not. I’m trying to save your damn life, Nora!”

  “And why should I believe you? My neighbor saw you outside my house!”

  “It wasn’t me!” he yelled through the phone, and then I heard him draw in a deep breath and let it out. “Look,” he said, much more calmly, “it couldn’t have been me. I was with Elizabeth all night.”

  I snorted. “I’m sure you were.” Then I hung up.

  I was reeling, trying to process everything he said and sort truth from lie, but the problem was, I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell if this was some fucked up game to Nathan, meant to drive me away from Spencer, or if I was giving my heart away to the wrong guy. At that thought, I was afraid I might be sick. There was just no way. Nathan was wrong, or if he wasn’t, it was a misunderstanding. Just because the police were talking to Spencer, didn’t make him guilty of anything.

  I needed to talk to him. The problem was he still didn’t answer his phone.

  But I knew where he was staying, and if he wasn’t there, I could always swing by the police station and tell Detective Parker I’d changed my mind about coming in tonight. Then I could find out what was going on.

  Decision made, I got up, not bothering to remove Spencer’s sweatshirt, and grabbed my keys. I drove to the motel and plotted how I would convince the manager to tell me what room he was staying in. I didn’t actually have to use any of the lies I’d come up with, because when I pulled up to the parking lot outside the motel, I saw him. He was climbing out of a dark grey Mustang. One that might have looked black if it wasn’t for the lamp post he was parked under. And it was definitely sporty.

  Could it have been Spencer that Clint saw outside my house?

  More confused than ever and unable to work up the courage to confront Spencer, I pulled away from the motel and headed for the police station. There had to be an explanation to all this that would make sense. One that didn’t include Spencer being guilty of anything.

  At the police station, I asked the first officer I saw if I could speak to Detective Parker.

  “Sorry, hun, he’s gone home for the night. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Is the FBI agent, Monroe, still in town?”

  “Can I get your name, sweetheart?” he didn’t look like he wanted to give me any information.

  “My name is Nora Scott. I’m supposed to meet Detective Parker in the morning.”

  “Right, I know who you are and I know Parker is anxious to speak with you, but he headed out a while ago, and so did Monroe. They were interrogating a suspect all day and I believe he headed back to Seattle as soon as they cut the guy loose.”

  “So he wasn’t the guy?” I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

  “I don’t know anything more than I’ve already told you, and even if I did, I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you. They’re keeping this case pretty tight.”

  “Okay, thank you for your help,” I mumbled, disappointed that my trip down here hadn’t resulted in any answers. “I guess I’ll be back in the morning.”

  I remembered little of walking back out to my car and driving home. I was on autopilot, preoccupied with every possible scenario my mind was coming up with to try and exonerate Spencer. There was just no way. Yet, he was obviously keeping secrets. Or maybe I just hadn’t given him the chance to tell me. If the police had him all day and only just released him, there hadn’t been much time for him to call me.

  I pulled into my drive and shut off my car, checking my phone. He still hadn’t called. There were several calls and unread text messages from Nathan. They were going to remain unread.

  I locked myself up tight in the house, knowing that it was late and I should get to bed, but feeling restless. Criminal Minds was on when I turned on the TV, but a few minutes into the episode, I started to feel sick. I had to turn it off. I couldn’t stomach fictional serial killers right now.

  The slip of paper on the coffee table drew my attention, and something made me pick it up and look over the phone numbers again. I recognized Seattle’s area code and Everett’s and then I got to the fourth number on the list and froze. How had I missed it earlier? I’d paid more attention to the motel name than the numbers themselves, but I knew that fourth number. It was Emily’s.

  Why did Spencer have Emily’s number, and who did the other four numbers belong to? I returned the paper to the coffee table, fighting the temptation to call the other numbers. It was late enough, I told myself, that chances are nobody would answer and maybe I could just get a name from a voicemail or answering service. Before I could really think about what I was doing, I’d grabbed my phone and started dialing the first number. It was no longer in service. I hung up and tried the next one. I got a name. Natasha Rhodes. The strangler’s second victim. I hung up immediately and didn’t bother calling the rest. I already suspected who they belonged to.

  Later, as I lay in bed, trying and failing to fall asleep, I continued to reassure myself that there had to be an explanation I just wasn’t thinking of. I was overreacting when I didn’t have all the facts and letting Nathan manipulate me. That was so much easier to believe, because it was something Nathan was skilled at. And I wanted him to be the bad guy.

  Nineteen

  I was at the station promptly at nine the next morning, the time the detective and I had agreed on. Both he and Agent Monroe were waiting for me. I hadn’t heard from Spencer this morning, and I was torn about what I should tell them. I had hoped I would talk to Spencer and he would clear everything up before I had to come down here, but if I couldn’t get answers from him, I needed to get them somewhere.

  I let them lead me back into the same room as last time I was here to answer questions. Once again, Agent Monroe took the lead, asking me if I needed anything, coffee or water. I was too nervous for even coffee this morning. My stomach was in so many knots, but I asked for water. Parker opened the door and sent someone to fetch it for me.

  Monroe sat across from me and Parker stood. I wasn’t sure who was going to go first, so I decided to.

  “Did you find another connection to Emily, with um, Dana?” It was hard to get her name out knowing she was no longer alive.

  “We were hoping you could help us with that and a few other questions we have,” Monroe answered.

  “You want me to identify something, see if it’s Emily’s?”

  “Yes, unlike the previous four girls, Dana Winters was found fully dressed, however none of her friends or family could identify the articles of clothing as belonging to her, and the sizes suggest they may be someone else’s. We’re checking with the families of the other victim’s, but we believe they may belong to Emily. However, her parents were unsure. We were hoping that since you were her roommate, you would be able to tell.”

  I nodded my head and swallowed thickly. “If they’re hers, I’ll know. We shared almost everything.”

  Monroe tipped his chin to Parker who stepped out of the room.

  “What else did you want to ask me? I heard you have a suspect.”

  “We’re looking into multiple persons of interest at this time, but as of yet we haven’t turned up anything definitive on any of them. You may be able to help with this as well. How close are you and Spencer Shaw?”

  I calmly breathed in and out, while on the inside I was seconds from losing it. Monroe had all but said he was a suspect. I already knew they were looking at hi
m, but having it confirmed shattered what little bit of denial I’d been hanging onto. Another breath, and then I met Monroe’s questioning stare.

  “I’ve been seeing him for a couple weeks now.”

  “And how long have you known him?”

  “Um,” I stammered, “he started coming into my shop a little over a month ago, the beginning of January.”

  “So, not long after Emily went missing?”

  I swallowed painfully at the implication. “Yes, that’s right.”

  “And he visited your shop regularly after that?”

  “Yes,” I confirmed once again. “Almost every day, but that’s not unusual. I have several customers who come in every day.”

  “Do they all ask you out, Miss Scott?” It was clear he was trying to make a point.

  “Most don’t.”

  “And are you familiar with Shaw’s background?”

  My mind went back to the things Nathan had said last night on the phone. I shook my head. “No, not really. I know he was in the military and he grew up in Spokane.”

  “Yes, his military career is quite interesting, or at least the fact that all records regarding his time in the service have been sealed. The Army refuses to release any information, and won’t even comment on his discharge. That’s quite odd, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know,” I mumbled. “I don’t know much about the Army.”

  “It is strange, and so is his life since leaving the service. He hasn’t held a job, but his bank records show a steady flow of income from a source we’ve yet to pull up any information on. He doesn’t own a house or have his name on any lease, but has popped up in several cities around the country since becoming a civilian, never staying in one place for long. No credit cards, not even a cell phone to his name. He’s like a ghost.”

  That made me sit up straighter. “But he has a cell phone. He’s called me on it, I have the number.” He pulled a slip of paper from one of the files he had in front of him. He slid it across to me with a pen.