Sifting for Suspects

by Cindy Bell

  Maybe if she could find his cell phone it would give her more information. She remembered the time that Derek’s phone was broken and she walked him through the steps to find his information stored in an online database by his cellular company. If he hadn’t changed the password, she might still be able to find records of his texts, phone calls, pictures, and even the location of his phone. With their break-up she guessed he might have changed it, but decided to give it a try anyway. When she logged on to the site, she remembered the way he hovered over her shoulder asking her questions about the technological aspect of cell phones, websites, and storage. At the time she’d wanted to shoo him away so she could concentrate, now she wished he was right there peppering her with questions again.

  Lucy tried his password and was excited to see that it still worked. As she sifted through the cell phone records she jotted down any repeated numbers he called around the time of his death. Then she looked through the texts he’d sent and received. Her chest tightened as she read one to Lance about her.

  It was the right time. So why does it still feel so wrong? It doesn’t make sense that we didn’t work, but we just didn’t.

  And Lance’s reply surprised her.

  Maybe if you weren’t so distracted by someone else, you could have kept things going.

  Minutes later Derek fired back.

  I have no idea what you’re talking about. If you have something to say to me, you can say it to me face to face at the gym.

  There were no more texts from Lance, or from Derek to Lance. Clearly as Lance had mentioned there was something going on between them. She continued through the last few texts and saw that one went to a number she didn’t recognize.

  If you want to come over tonight you can. We need to talk about this. I can’t let it go any longer. It’s time we were honest about what needs to happen.

  She stared at the text. It wasn’t Lance’s number, but it sounded like it might have been the continuation of their conversation. Maybe Lance changed his number? Maybe he was using a different phone? The text was sent on the same day that Derek was killed. Whoever he sent the text to, could very well be the killer. Maybe the police would know this already? She decided to give Annaliese a call in the morning. Maybe she could look up the number and figure out who it belonged to. Or, she could just call it.

  Lucy held her phone nervously in her hand. Reasons why she shouldn’t call the number rushed through her mind, but the one reason she wanted to overrode all of those warnings. Derek deserved justice. She tapped the numbers into her phone one by one. With each subtle press she wondered if she should change her mind. But after the last number was entered she pressed call, and placed the phone against her ear. As the number rang she held her breath. Who would answer? Would she be talking to a killer? Would the killer know who she was?

  “Hello?” The voice startled her to the core. It wasn’t the voice of a stranger. It was the voice of someone she considered to be family.

  “Noah?”

  “Yes? Who is this?” His tone became stern.

  Her heart raced. He didn’t recognize her voice. She still had time to hang up. But that wouldn’t work, because he would know it was her number. It wouldn’t take long for him to figure it out.

  “It’s, uh, Lucy.”

  “Lucy?” His tone shifted and became friendly. “What’s up?”

  “I didn’t realize you got a new phone number.”

  “Yes I did, a few weeks ago. I lost my phone.”

  “How come I didn’t know this?”

  “Well, you don’t call me very often. I figured that Chantelle would have updated you. If you didn’t know this was my number then who were you trying to reach?”

  “I’m not sure. It came up on my phone.”

  “Huh, I don’t remember calling you.”

  “Maybe Chantelle or Greg did.”

  “Greg isn’t allowed to use my phone.”

  “You know how teenagers are.”

  “I guess you’re right. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. How are you?”

  “I’m okay.” She swallowed hard. She was anything but okay. She’d just found out that Noah was the last person that Derek sent a text to before he was killed. “I have to go.”

  “Okay. If you need anything just let me know.”

  “Thanks.” She cringed. Did she just thank Derek’s killer? As she hung up the phone her eyes filled with tears. Every time she thought she discovered something new it led to more confusion. Noah wouldn’t hurt Derek. So that meant that she’d hit another dead end. She certainly wasn’t going to tell the police that he was the last one that Derek sent a text to. She spent the rest of her evening trying to piece together what little evidence she had. Exhausted, she fell asleep on the couch with Mia snuggled up at her side.

  Chapter 10

  When Lucy woke the next morning her body was stiff from sleeping on the couch. Her heart was heavy with the weight of Derek’s approaching funeral, and her frustration level spiked the moment she realized she was no closer to figuring out who killed him. Midway through the day she found herself stacking macarons on a tray. It was to replenish the display in the front window, which was guarded by her mother’s naked fountain. Luckily she hadn’t insisted on putting chocolate in it just yet.

  “Sis, you look so far away. What are you thinking about?” Chantelle finished stocking a box of macarons and turned to set it on the counter for pick-up. Jacqueline stepped out of the back with another fresh tray of macarons.

  “Tomorrow is the funeral.” Lucy stared at the tray in front of her, though she didn’t really see it.

  “Yes, we’ll close the patisserie for a couple of hours.” Jacqueline nodded. “We should all be there.”

  “Will Greg be able to handle it okay?” Lucy leaned against the counter beside her sister.

  “Yes, in fact the grief counselor said it would give him some closure.”

  “That’s good.” Lucy nodded. She didn’t think she’d have closure until the mystery surrounding Derek’s murder was solved and whoever killed Derek was behind bars.

  “I can drive you if you like, Lucy.” Chantelle patted her hand.

  “No thank you, I’d rather drive myself. Just in case I need some time afterward.” What she didn’t tell her sister was that she planned to talk to as many people as she could at the funeral to try to find out more about Derek’s murder, starting with Lance. The more she thought about his friendship with Derek the more she recognized the competitive factors in it. Yes, they were close, but they were also always trying to one up each other when it came to sales, personal clients and how much weight they could lift. With this on her mind she carried the fresh tray of macarons to the front of the store. Just as she began to arrange them on the display, the door to the patisserie swung open. Startled, she dropped a macaron and bent to pick it up. As she did her head collided with the naked fountain’s abdominal muscles.

  “Ouch.”

  “Are you okay?” A familiar voice drifted to her ears.

  “Yes, I think so.” She straightened up and met Jack’s eyes. “Back for more already?”

  “Actually, I came to see you.”

  “Oh?” She realized she’d crushed the macaron into crumbs in her hand. “What for?”

  “Annaliese told me a bit about the case. I just wanted to check in with you.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

  “She told me that you were seeing the man who was murdered.”

  “Oh, we broke up a few weeks ago.”

  “I see.” He locked eyes with her. “It still must be hard for you to handle.”

  “I’m fine, thanks.” She walked over to the trashcan and brushed the macaron crumbs into it.

  “I’m sorry it must seem strange that I came by to check on you. It’s just that I’ve been in your shoes, and I know what it’s like to bury someone you care about. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

  “That’s kind of you. But I’m not alone.” She tilted her
head towards the counter where her mother and sister pretended not to eavesdrop on their conversation. “My mother and sister are here to help me through it.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear that.” He nodded to them. “In that case I’ll be on my way. Just remember, if you ever need anything, any friend of Annaliese’s is a friend of mine.” He smiled at her, then stepped back out through the door. She realized too late that she could have offered him some coffee or macarons. She could have talked him into staying longer so that she could explore the strange sensations between them. By the time she reached the counter her sister and mother were in a bit of a frenzy for information.

  “Who was that and why was he looking at you like that?” Chantelle leaned across the counter.

  “He has a very interesting way about him, doesn’t he?” Jacqueline smiled. “I think you noticed.”

  “That’s Annaliese’s brother, and I didn’t notice anything. He’s a nice person, that’s all.”

  “Nice?” Chantelle smiled. “I think he’s just nice to you.”

  “Stop.” Lucy laughed.

  “See, you’re going to learn to laugh again, smile again, be happy again, love again,” Jacqueline said.

  “I know, but not just yet.” Lucy wiped down the counter where she’d prepared the macarons and looked over at her sister. “Noah lost his phone?”

  “Yes, a while back. I didn’t tell you?”

  “No. I just found out.”

  “Yes, he told me you called last night. He was worried about you.”

  “Worried how?”

  “He was worried about how you’re dealing with Derek’s death of course. He said that you sounded a little strange on the phone and he wondered if you might be having some trouble being alone.”

  “No, I’m fine.” She smiled.

  “Good.” Chantelle patted her cheek. Then she picked up the keys. “I have a delivery to make, but I’ll be back in an hour. We can take a break and get an early dinner if you would like.”

  “Honestly, I think I’d rather be here. I’ve got too much on my mind.”

  “I wish you would share some of it with me, it might help to talk about it.”

  Lucy smiled at her sister. There was no one in the world who she trusted more than Chantelle, but she was certain that her sister would not want to hear her suspicions about Noah. She trusted him. She loved him.

  “Really I’m okay, Chantelle. I just need time I think to get through all of this.”

  “I understand.” Chantelle hugged her. “I’ll see you after the delivery.” She picked up the box and carried it out to the van. The moment the door closed behind her Jacqueline met Lucy’s eyes.

  “Now, do you want to tell me the truth?” Her lips curved into a knowing smile.

  “There’s nothing to tell, Mom.”

  “You shouldn’t lie to your mother, Lucy.” She locked eyes with her. “I know better than anyone what difficulty you are going through.”

  “Mom, it’s not what you think. I have no idea who killed Derek.”

  “Are you really going to tell me that you haven’t felt anything, heard anything, experienced anything?”

  “Nothing that has any relevance. It’s all very confusing.”

  “It doesn’t come to you clear as day. You have to interpret.”

  “But how can I when I have no idea who to suspect? The only thing I was certain of was that Derek’s death was not an accident, since then I haven’t been able to figure anything more out.”

  “Except you suspect someone, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to think.”

  “Then you need to take some time to yourself, in a quiet space, and allow it to come to you. You don’t have this ability for no reason. It was given to you because you are meant to use it.”

  “Mom, I don’t know if I believe that. I don’t know what I believe.”

  “It’s okay to question things, but don’t doubt yourself, Lucy. You’ve lived with your instincts long enough to know that they don’t fail you. Don’t be afraid of what they tell you. Go home for the rest of the afternoon. Spend some time with Mia, take a nice warm bath, drink some tea. Get yourself relaxed, and hear what your intuition is trying to tell you.”

  “Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right. It’s best if I’m prepared for the funeral tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be there with you.” Jacqueline grasped her hand and met her daughter’s eyes again.

  “Thank you.” She kissed her mother’s cheek, then collected her things.

  On the way back to the house Lucy struggled through memories of an ongoing conversation between herself and her mother. Jacqueline believed her sixth sense was the result of a spiritual connection, of a greater truth, while Lucy had a hard time agreeing with that. Her instincts were often right on, but there were times when she needed them the most that they failed her. Like the day that Chantelle’s husband died. If she had some special gift, why didn’t it warn her and give her the opportunity to save her sister an immense amount of heartbreak? Why didn’t it reveal to her Derek’s killer instead of engaging her in a game of cat and mouse?

  Lucy pulled into the house and parked. It was hard not to think about the times that Derek joined her on the front porch for a herbal tea and a chat about their dreams. It was hard not to remember his laughter as he watched her struggle with Mia as she liked to wake them in the morning. No, he wasn’t going to be her husband, but he was a good friend, and their relationship was one that she would always value. When she stepped inside the house Mia ran up to greet her. She reached her two snow colored paws up on to the side of her leg, and meowed.

  “Hi baby.” She picked her up and stroked her back. “I know I’m out of sorts, but I’ll be better soon.” She carried her over to the couch and continued to stroke her fur. Mia curled up into a fluffy ball in her lap. Lucy scratched behind one ear, then the other. Mia stretched her paws and arched her back with a quiet yowl.

  “Yes, I agree. It’s been a long day, Mia, and I suspect tomorrow will be an even longer one.” She sighed and tried to follow her mother’s instructions. She closed her eyes and took slow deep breaths to ease her mind into a meditative state. However, the further she sank down into her own senses the more unsettled she became. It was as if someone stood very close, and watched her. Her eyes sprang open. One glance around the room revealed that there was no one there, and yet when she closed her eyes again, that same sensation returned, only even stronger. As much as she wanted to discover who killed Derek she could not calm down enough to get a clear revelation.

  She decided to take her mother’s advice and drew a warm bath to soak in. As the water filled the tub she thought about Derek in the bathroom. He was fully clothed. So why had he reached into the shower? If he had company, why was he preparing to take a shower? Unless the whole scene was staged it didn’t make sense to her. Derek was modest when it came to his body. While other men with his good looks and muscular frame would flaunt it by going shirtless, Derek always had a t-shirt on, unless he was swimming. He wouldn’t have gotten into the shower if he had a guest. If that guest was Noah as she suspected, he certainly wouldn’t have. The only reason she could think of that he would be turning the shower on with someone else there, was if he’d had a woman over. Maybe he’d decided to engage in something fast to get over their breakup. So if there was a woman there, who was it?

  The only person that came to mind was Sharon. Sharon was beautiful, quite possibly the fittest woman she’d ever set eyes on. She always suspected the possibility that the two might have more than friendship between them if Derek wasn’t going out with her. She climbed into the tub and closed her eyes. As she did she tried to picture Sharon attacking Derek. She was an easy-going person, but she always intimidated Lucy. She couldn’t imagine Sharon doing anything to hurt Derek. She also couldn’t imagine Noah doing anything to hurt him. She decided that the next day she would talk with Noah about the text aft
er the funeral.

  After a light dinner she decided to go to bed and hope that she would get through the next day. As she walked down the hall to her bedroom, the floor creaked in a strange way. The sound drew her attention, then a second later she heard a footstep just behind her. She froze and drew a long slow breath. When she built up enough nerve she forced herself to take a step forward. Once she was a few steps further down the hall, she heard the strange creak again. That was it, someone had to be behind her. She ran full force to her bedroom. Just as she slammed her hand into the bedroom door she looked over her shoulder to see who was about to attack her. Only an empty hallway greeted her. Her skin was covered in sweat from the adrenaline that raced through her. With her hand to her heart she tried to calm herself down. No one was there. She’d let her imagination run away, or maybe, just maybe, whoever was there couldn’t be seen.

  “Derek?” Her throat tightened as she spoke his name. Did she dare to believe that he might have bridged the gap and made his presence known? It wasn’t the first time she’d felt the presence of a spirit. The first time was when she was ten years old and attending a funeral for her great-grandmother. She was so overwhelmed that she couldn’t stop crying for hours. While most relatives thought she was grieving for a woman she barely knew, her mother took her aside and explained her special senses. From that day on she saw herself as different, and certainly not better. Having a knowing about people isolated her, and made her less trusting. Confusing instinct and imagination led her into some very distorted beliefs as she journeyed through her teenage years. As an adult, she embraced a balanced view of her abilities. They could be real, or they could be imagination, but as long as they benefited her she embraced them.