Steve Demaree - Dekker 09 - Murder on a Blind Date

by Steve Demaree

  Murder on a

  Blind Date

  Steve Demaree

  Cy Dekker plans to continue his life as a retired homicide detective, until he receives a plea from a friend about a missing person, finds another friend is missing, and learns that some people who have gone out on blind dates through a dating service have been murdered.

  Copyright ã 2014

  Steve Demaree

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  1

  I thought I was retired, but then I was asked to pursue one case in November and another one not long after the first of the year. That doesn't sound much like retired to me. I guess that was the price I had to pay because I was so good at what I did. But January arrived and so did a plea to help find a missing person. I figured I would give it a day, two days tops. I didn't know that I would get drawn into a kidnapping and multiple murders, not to mention a few things that I felt would be hazardous to my health. I guess God didn't want me to become a couch potato. But before I get into that, let's talk a little about what happened between cases.

  When you are a widower with no family, you don't have much experience with large family gatherings at Thanksgiving. Luckily I, Cy Dekker, had a good friend, Lou Murdock, who was my partner in solving murders for the Hilldale Police Department for over thirty years. And I have a girlfriend, Jennifer Sharp, who has been there for me the last couple of years. And Lou has a girlfriend, Thelma Lou Spencer, and both Jennifer and Thelma Lou love to cook. While Lou and I no longer eat three gargantuan meals a day, and our diminishing waistlines show it, on occasion we cook something more complicated than a TV dinner. Still, cooking is not the highlight of my day. Neither of us care a lot about football and I had no interest in heading to Thelma Lou's early to watch a Thanksgiving Day parade, so I slept in, then ate a small breakfast before arriving to pleasant aromas wafting through the air, and kisses and hugs that I enjoyed even more. The girls knew enough about Lou's lack of skills, and mine, that we weren't asked to help with anything. We found a couple of comfortable seats out of the way of the girls, but close enough to them that we could engage them in conversation. We learned that none of us planned to get up in the middle of the night or stay up late to be one of the first shoppers on Black Friday. But we spent a few minutes discussing those who weren't as enlightened as we, who would throw a body block to get the last of the number one toy of the season. I never even took time to find out what the number one toy was last year. We spent most of the afternoon at Thelma Lou's, and Lou and I enjoyed ourselves. We ended up eating as much as everyone else across America on that day, and even had a little time to rest before tackling our Christmas shopping list, even though neither of us would consider shopping for a few days. Nor would we wait until almost Christmas Eve to get started.

  Even though I live alone, I still decorate a tree each Christmas. My tree always has enough color lights to make it an electrical hazard. Neighbors gather in my front yard to look in the front window and gaze upon the aurora borealis. And I keep adding ornaments until at least two of them have fallen to a lower branch. I try to make it look like it wasn't something constructed by a blind man or two cats in a blinding snowstorm, but if the neighborhood committee members knocked on my door, I doubt if I would win any of the prizes for Best Decorated Christmas Tree, unless they had a category for Men Over Fifty. Even though I have no wife or children, there are still gifts under my tree. Unlike most men, I take my time selecting the right gift bag and right color of tissue paper to hide the identity of my gift selection, even though many of my gifts go to men who won't notice, or will remove the tissue paper, throw it down, and ask, "What's this?" And I'm happy to say that I've never given anyone a chia pet or a fruitcake, even though I've been tempted.

  It wasn't that long ago that a person's choices on what to get me for Christmas consisted of socks, or a season of DVDs of one of my favorite classic TV comedies, depending on whether you wanted to spend a buck fifty on me, or fifteen dollars or more. Luckily for most people, I wasn't on their Christmas list. I was lucky to get classic videos from Lou, and a fruitcake from some of the guys I served with on the police department for many years. Actually, I didn't get many fruitcakes, but I did receive an occasional Hershey Almond candy bar, which saved me from buying my own. And Christmas is the best time to receive Hershey Kisses wrapped in foil of various colors.

  I must say that Thanksgiving and Christmas are the times I miss my Eunice the most. She died of cancer a short time after we married. Those two holidays are even less fun alone than it is to eat out by yourself on Valentine's Day.

  But Jennifer surprised me at Christmas by buying me a couple of romantic Christmas movies, Home Alone and Die Hard. And Lou followed up and bought me a couple more movies after Christmas, Stakeout and Another Stakeout. I enjoyed all four movies, so I got on the computer and ordered four classic movies, three of which were made before I was born. But Dial M For Murder, Witness For the Prosecution, Wait Until Dark, and No Time For Sergeants provided me with as much enjoyment as some of the mysteries Lou and I have been reading over the last couple of years. That didn't mean that Lou and I started deserting Mrs. E. at the Scene of the Crime bookstore. We just waited until after Christmas and reloaded. I couldn't wait to get my hands on the latest books written by Linwood Barclay, Mary Higgins Clark, Lee Child, and David Baldacci, although in some of the books I had to overlook some of the language. And on every trip to our favorite bookstore Mrs. E. is capable of finding a new home for some of our money we've received during our retirement.

  But a person can only read, watch movies and TV shows, and eat so much, so Lou came over one day and he and I moved my cornhole boards into the house. We found that if we shortened our backswing a little we could play in the house, and if we shortened our backswings a little more we could play without breaking anything. At least that was how everything went until we hit the downturn at the end of January. While I enjoyed who I received a phone call from on that cold January day, I didn't enjoy the reason for the phone call, or most of the other phone calls that followed.

  2

  There are two ways I can tell that God has a sense of humor. One is by looking in the mirror. If the mirror isn't steamed up when I see myself I look like a rough draft, or someone's first attempt to make a human. But I said two ways, and the second way I can tell that God has a sense of humor is that he always sends a major snowstorm just before sending me out of the house on a case. Well, during the winter at least. To me snow is something to be enjoyed from a window of your home. Snow shoveling is to be enjoyed as you stand in front of that same window and watch the young man you placed a phone call to toss each shovelful of snow to the side until you can see the sidewalk and driveway that were more visible before one snowflake after another led to an overabundance of the stuff. Ice skating and skiing aren't something you should do on purpose, and if God
meant for people over the age of twelve to make a snowman He would have sent snow that packs together at seventy degrees. But enough about the white stuff and on to the phone call.

  I remember the morning the call came. My phone doesn't ring often and when it does it's either Lou or Jennifer. Except this time.

  "Okay, which one of you two is it?"

  "I'm hoping you will think I'm the better of the two."

  "Heather. So good to hear your voice. And you are definitely the better of the two."

  "Oh, Dan has his good days. And you might not think I'm the better of the two, Cy, after you hear why I called. We need to talk."

  "You mean you've come to your senses and decided to leave Dan for me?"

  "Cy, you know you've always been the number one man in my life ever since we met. But while you're sometimes a piece of work, I think you can make it better on your own than Dan could. I don't know how that man made it before I took him to raise."

  "And I don't know how he's made it this long as a cop. Of course he's still creeping up on thirty, so he might be better in another ten years. Are you calling me to tell me that the two of you are about to tackle your first homicide investigation together, and you need my help?"

  "I hope not, but I would like to come over and talk. Is it okay if I bring him along?"

  "As long as he doesn't get in our way. How would he feel about waiting in the car?"

  Heather laughed.

  "Can he leave it running so he won't freeze to death?"

  "Absolutely."

  "Well then would thirty minutes be too soon?"

  "I was thinking more like thirty seconds. I don't think I can wait thirty minutes to see you."

  "Cy, have you ever thought about writing romantic novels?"

  I left that question unanswered. Heather ended the call and I turned around to check on the house. The maid had been there the day before, so all I had to do was pick up the newspaper from where I had tossed it. At least I hadn't scattered the sections.

  As I waited for Dan and Heather to arrive and wondered what was so urgent, I thought of the first time I saw Dan Davis, on his first day as a cop riding by himself, when I wondered if he would make it to his second day of being a cop. And I remembered some time later when Lou and I met Heather, all one hundred pounds of her. I think that was the day I fell in love with her, even though I was twice her age. When Lou and I decided to retire we even recommended that Heather and Dan, who were about to be married, would replace us as the homicide division of the Hilldale Police Department. Only in Hilldale, and a few other places, can a married couple work together in solving murders. Well, maybe they can. There hasn't been a murder in Hilldale since Heather and Dan took over from Lou and me.

  +++

  The newlyweds arrived and I told Dan he could wait outside while I kissed the bride. He gave me one of his sheepish grins. He was used to Heather greeting me with a big hug and kiss from well before they were married. He didn't mind, as long as I didn't greet him the same way. I wasn't about to do that. After I had hugged and kissed Heather enough, I motioned for her and Dan to take a seat and refrained from asking Heather to sit on my lap. Word might have gotten back to Jennifer and I wasn't sure whether bones heal as quickly in the winter. I let Heather lead the conversation, so we spent a few minutes in small talk, until she was ready to let me know what was so urgent.

  "Cy, you're probably wondering why we're here. Well, my cousin's best friend's brother is missing and has been missing for over a week now, and she's worried sick. So is everyone else. He's a very responsible person, always at work on time, but, of course, he hasn't been at work lately, either."

  "Has anything happened lately that would make him want to disappear?"

  "Not as far as she knows. She saw him a week before he disappeared and he was in good spirits. He even told her that he was about to do something he'd never done. Go on a blind date. He was really excited about the idea."

  "Maybe he got cold feet. I tried to get out of a blind date once."

  "No, he went on the blind date. Even talked to his sister after he got back from the date, but told her he wasn't allowed to tell her anything about the date until after he found out if his date enjoyed the date, too. Something about a red card and a green card that has nothing to do with sports or immigration."

  "I don't understand that. Couldn't he tell her what he thought of the woman? What was this? A date arranged by a religious cult? Or a mountain family with several daughters and the oldest and ugliest daughter wasn't married yet?"

  "I don't think so, Cy. At least when she called me she didn't mention anything about Kool-Aid or shotguns."

  "So, what else do you know about this?"

  "That's pretty much it."

  "So, what do you want me to do? Go out on a blind date with the same woman?"

  "I don't know what I want you to do, and I have no idea who the woman was. But if he doesn't show up in the next couple of days I might want you to check into it if you would, see if you can find out anything for me. Everyone is worried sick."

  "So, where does this guy live? Here in Hilldale?"

  "No. Morehead."

  "Has anyone contacted the Morehead Police?"

  "Yeah, and they sent someone to his house. But they can't do anything unless there is evidence that he has been kidnapped or harmed somehow."

  "So, I assume there was no blood left behind or any overturned chairs."

  "I don't think they went into the house to check. From what I understand they rang his bell, knocked on his door just in case the bell didn't work, and asked a couple of neighbors if they had seen anything out of the ordinary."

  "And your cousin's best friend doesn't know of anyone who has a grudge against her brother?"

  "Evidently not."

  "What kind of work does he do?"

  "He's a teacher at the high school."

  "Well, then that explains it. Either someone kidnapped him until he agrees to change their grade, or some girl is in love with him and is holding him in a love nest somewhere."

  "Cy, this is serious."

  "I know. And either of those could have happened. You did say he lived in Morehead, didn't you? Isn't that one of those places with only three last names, where cousins marry? But enough about that. I'll tell you what I'll do. If you want me to take a look, let me know and I'll check into it. In the meantime, have someone check with area hospitals to see if they have treated anyone with amnesia lately. And check with neighboring towns, show people a picture of him, find out if someone answering his description has been seen in their town in the last few days. And check with other police departments to see if they have had any similar cases. If you strike out on all of those, then get back to me and I'll see what I can come up with."

  3

  It was Saturday morning when Heather and Dan came to tell me the news of the missing young man. I was undecided as to what to do that day, had no plans until church the next morning. I called Lou to see what he planned to do. Like me, Lou doesn't usually have that big of a social calendar. Lou and I read books at the same pace, so we usually read the same mystery at the same time, then discuss them when we have finished. Both of us had finished and discussed our latest endeavor the night before, so I wasn't sure if Lou was up to beginning another mystery yet or not. Lou, being the party animal that he was with a schedule the envy of every playboy, also enjoyed working jigsaw puzzles and pencil and crossword puzzles. I found out a long time ago that I didn't have the patience for jigsaw puzzles of more than twenty-four pieces, so that was one hobby Lou did on his own. But if Lou planned to do something other than read I would watch a movie or practice banging some cornhole bags off the wall so I could spring a trick shot on Lou the next time we played.

  I picked up my phone and dialed. Lou didn't answer his home phone. Maybe he was eating lunch with Thelma Lou. I was in one of my lazier moods so I narrowed my movie choice down to No Way Out or Dead of Winter. One is about an innocent man trapped inside the
Pentagon by a murderer and his henchmen, and the other has to do with a woman being kidnapped in the middle of the winter. Since I was already in a kidnapping mood in the middle of the winter, as long as I didn't have to go outside, I planned to watch Dead of Winter. If Lou wasn't home by the time I finished watching the movie I would make it a double feature. I was ready to plop down in my recliner and enjoy. All I had to do first was pop some popcorn and locate a Hershey Almond candy bar. Then I could lean back in my recliner and pretend I was the late Roger Ebert.

  +++

  As it turned out, it was two enjoyable hours, including the intermission to replenish my popcorn at less than movie multiplex prices. It was time to call Lou again. Before arising from my recliner I picked the popcorn off my shirt a kernel at a time and shot it into my mouth. I missed only twice. Then I hurried to the phone to call Lou. Whether he was home or not I already knew I would be enjoying a late lunch.

  This time he answered my call.

  "Is that you, Cy?"

  "No, it's your mother."

  "Hi, Mom. You sound different. Do you have a cold? Or is it because you died a few years ago and are calling me from the grave?"

  "So, where have you been?"

  "Oh, so now you're my parole officer?"

  "Of course. Have been for almost fifty years now."

  "If I've behaved this long, why do I still need a parole officer?"

  "Who said you've behaved? So, where have you been?"

  "I decided to treat Thelma Lou to lunch out and an ice cream sundae."

  "Like I always say, 'There's nothing better than an ice cream sundae in January.'"

  "That does sound like something you would say. So, why are you being nosy today?"

  "I was just wondering if you are ready to read another book yet."

  "I think I'll pass until tomorrow afternoon. I'm thinking about taking a nap then popping in a movie."