Dead of Summer

by Sherry Knowlton

  Tears filled Melissa’s eyes as she answered. “I think she has a brother in Colorado; he lives in one of those little ski towns. Not Aspen. Maybe Telluride? I want to say his name is Richard, Richard Townes. Cecily talked a lot about him and his family when we were in Thailand this winter. Maria Santiago, Cecily’s assistant at RESIST, would probably know more than me.”

  “Resist?” the trooper asked.

  “R.E.S.I.S.T., Resolve to Stop Illegal Sex Trafficking. That is, I mean was, Cecily’s work; her whole life really. The office is on Louther Street in Carlisle, near the college.”

  Trooper Cannon wrote in a little notebook as Melissa talked.

  Alexa stepped in. “You had another question, Trooper?”

  “Yes. When was the last time you saw Ms. Townes alive?” He directed the question at Melissa.

  “A little before noon today in Washington.”

  “Washington, D.C.?” The two troopers exchanged a glance, clearly interested in this development.

  “Yes, we were there for a RESIST march. I got separated from Cecily and the rest of our group when I got arrested.”

  “A minor issue with the Park Police. The charges were dropped,” Alexa jumped in, but Melissa continued to babble about the arrest.

  “I swear; I have the utmost respect for President Lincoln. I would never hurt his memorial. I just stood up there because it gave me enough height for a good photo. But those bastards tried to take my camera. I mean, those officers.” Melissa looked abashed at her gaffe.

  Alexa glared at her friend, trying to will her into silence. “I drove down to D.C. to arrange for Melissa to be released from custody. We came straight here upon our return to pick up Melissa’s car.”

  “What were the charges?” Trooper Taylor’s tone took on greater authority.

  “There was some discussion of defacing a national monument and resisting arrest. But a friend in D.C. government assisted Melissa. No charges were filed.”

  “Who would we contact to verify this?”

  “She was held at the Park Police Central District Station.”

  Trooper Cannon jotted down another note and took up the questioning.

  “And, Ms. Williams, when was the last time you saw Ms. Townes alive?”

  “Never. I never saw Cecily Townes before tonight when I found her dead in her office. I went into the house with Melissa so I could meet her.” Alexa shuddered at the memory.

  Trooper Taylor stepped back a pace. “I think that’s enough for now. Ms. Lambert, I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend.”

  Trooper Cannon asked, “Can you get home on your own or do you need someone to drive you?”

  Melissa exclaimed, “My car. That’s why we were here in the first place. But I’m not sure I should drive tonight.”

  “We’re not ready to let you have the Prius tonight, Ms. Lambert. The technicians will want to go over the car tomorrow since it has become part of the crime scene. Ms. Williams, you are free to take your SUV.”

  “Melissa, we’ll figure out your car tomorrow. Come on, I’ll drive us both to my place. Jim is waiting for you there.” Alexa hustled Melissa into the Land Rover before her friend collapsed.

  On the long, dark ride home to Alexa’s cabin, Melissa fell immediately into a restless sleep. Alone with her thoughts, Alexa couldn’t erase the grisly image of Cecily Townes’ body collapsed over those boxes like a bloody, broken doll.

  What could have precipitated the murder? Melissa wasn’t a person who praised easily, yet she had called Cecily a saint. Could this just be a burglary that turned violent? If not, who would kill a saint? Then, Alexa remembered: One of the downsides of sainthood is that martyrdom is often part of the package.

  Chapter Three

  ALEXA COULDN’T ESCAPE THE DREAM. It was always the same. Reverend Browne, a giant of a man in a towering rage, chased Alexa across the living room of her cabin. His hands reached for Alexa’s throat but paused when his wife rushed into the cabin screaming. Alexa picked up the loaded shotgun.

  “I will not hesitate to shoot.”

  When the fanatical minister leapt toward Alexa, she pulled the trigger. Mrs. Browne’s wails filled the air as Alexa stared helplessly at the woman’s husband, dead and bleeding all over her mother’s favorite oriental rug.

  But this time the dream changed. Reverend Browne’s body morphed into a feminine form, and Alexa was staring at Cecily Townes, bleeding on the cabin floor. Mrs. Browne had vanished along with her husband, but another woman was screaming.

  “Melissa?” Alexa jerked awake and bolted upright in bed. Beside her, Scout raised his big head, on alert as if he had heard the voices in her dream. In the glimmering predawn light, Alexa tried to determine if she was awake or still dreaming. Her heart leapt into her throat at the sound of a low moan and footsteps down the hall.

  “I am awake,” she whispered aloud.

  The noises came from Melissa and Jim, who had spent the night in one of the guest rooms down the hall. Last evening’s discovery of Cecily Townes’ body came back in a rush.

  Alexa couldn’t deal with that terrible experience yet. She collapsed back onto the pillows. “Let’s go back to sleep, buddy,” Alexa murmured to the English mastiff. “I am so exhausted.”

  Scout inched closer to Alexa and nudged her arm with his nose.

  “OK. Just a few more hours.” Alexa threw an arm over the big dog and closed her eyes.

  When Alexa woke again, soft sunlight streamed through the windows. At the same level as the budding green leaves, the second floor bedroom felt like a tree house. Downstairs she could hear someone clattering pans in the kitchen, and the tantalizing smell of brewing coffee wafted through the open door.

  Scout hopped off the bed and made for the steps. Alexa figured that Jim or Melissa would let him outside, so she headed for a quick shower. She needed to wash the cobwebs of bad dreams from her head.

  As she tugged a wide brush through wet honey-brown curls streaked with blonde, Alexa studied her image. The woman in the mirror looked no different today than yesterday. Same medium height and medium weight. Same hazel eyes clouded with self-reproach. Despite the calm exterior, Alexa felt like an Alice who had fallen down a second rabbit hole. The first time she found a dead body, her life had changed forever. The experience had wrecked her ability to trust, gotten a young mother killed, and ultimately cost Alexa a man she had come to love. Yet, here she was again, confronted with another dead woman. Bad news in oh so many ways.

  Stop it; she broke off the torrent of self-recrimination. This situation is totally different. You have no connection to Cecily Townes other than Melissa. So that makes your link to Cecily more like one of those six-degrees-of-Kevin Bacon things. Last night was horrible. But, after you give your statement to Trooper Taylor, you can walk away from this. It’s tragic that a good woman has been killed. But this is not the same as finding Elizabeth Nelson dead in the woods.

  Alexa swept her unruly hair into a clip. Before she left her room, she threw a lightweight fleece over her t-shirt and jeans. Even in early May, the cabin held onto the night’s chill well into the morning.

  On the way downstairs, Alexa glanced into the second guest bedroom at the big bed. Melissa still slept, curled into a small ball with her auburn hair spread across the pillow. Alexa pulled the door shut and headed for the kitchen. Melissa needed the rest.

  Jim had taken his coffee outside to the deck. Alexa smiled to see the tall, burly forest ranger rubbing Scout’s ears. The happy dog thumped his tail a few times when Alexa shuffled out the cabin door, too content with Jim’s ministrations to rise.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I rummaged through your cabinets and fridge for some cereal and yogurt.”

  “Of course.” Alexa sat down beside him. “I’m glad you found the coffee maker. Do you want anything more? I think I have some English muffins. A good hostess would have been up at the crack of dawn to make you pancakes or something.”

  “I’m good. Scout has been keep
ing me company. Actually, I tried to be quiet so you and Melissa could sleep in.”

  “Thanks. I needed a few extra hours. Melissa was still sound asleep when I came down. I’m worried about her.”

  “I didn’t want to press for too many details last night. I could tell you were both wiped out. Can you tell me everything that happened?”

  “Give me a minute to get a cup of tea and something to eat. Then I’ll fill you in on the entire mess.” Alexa strode into the kitchen, trying to boost her mood with brisk action.

  “So she didn’t even tell you about the arrest in Washington?” Alexa took another sip of tea as she watched Jim process this new chapter in yesterday’s saga.

  “No. We didn’t talk about anything last night except Cecily’s murder. When Melissa and I went up to bed, she fell asleep almost immediately.”

  “You’re right. I guess we focused so much on Cecily’s death that we never mentioned Melissa getting hauled off to jail. She only had one phone call, so she contacted me—the lawyer.” While she tackled her breakfast, Alexa brought Jim up to speed on Melissa’s brush with the law and finding Cecily’s body.

  Jim became so engrossed in the conversation that he stopped petting the fawn-colored mastiff, so Scout padded down the stairs onto the lawn.

  “Wait,” he said when Alexa recounted their entry into Cecily’s house. “The window’s broken. Nobody answers your calls. But the two of you just barrel into the house? My God. Why didn’t you back off and call the police?”

  “That idea did come up. But Melissa worried that Cecily might be hurt. I probably could have stopped her, but neither of us thought it through. In retrospect, I wish we had stayed outside. It’s going to be a long time before I’ll be able to get past the sight of Cecily’s body and all the blood.” Alexa couldn’t believe how stupid she had been to let Melissa lead them into that house.

  Alexa rubbed her temples, which were beginning to throb. “I tried to keep Melissa out of the room. But she wouldn’t stay in the hall. I’ve never seen her like that. She got hysterical and went practically catatonic in the car when we hightailed out of there. Although they gave her a mild sedative, the EMS guys didn’t think she needed any further treatment. But I think we need to keep an eye on her.”

  “This whole thing sucks. What a traumatic experience. But you know Melissa. She lives life at full speed. Her enthusiasm keeps her on a natural high most of the time.” Jim dropped his voice and frowned. “But something like this could devastate her. Especially since she’d gotten so close to Cecily. You know that she’s been involved in this RESIST group for months now. She and Cecily became real friends during that ministry trip to India and Thailand. She basically tagged along on one of Cecily’s routine checks on the network that RESIST has established to rescue women from the sex trade. She told Melissa that watching her photograph the women was a gift.”

  Jim leaned forward. “I worried that the trip could be dangerous. But Melissa arrived home with thousands of photographs and a huge amount of respect for what Cecily did for those women.”

  Alexa shredded her English Muffin. “Yeah. I knew about India and Thailand. That’s pretty much all Melissa’s talked about since she came back. Isn’t her photo exhibit opening next week?”

  “Next Saturday.”

  “I’ve been too preoccupied with my own issues. I should have paid more attention to Melissa’s new cause.” Alexa felt a twinge of guilt for tuning out Melissa’s constant prattle about RESIST and the ministry trip.

  “Look, I know that you’ve been struggling ever since you shot Reverend Browne.” Jim punctuated each word with a rap on the wooden table as he continued. “It. Was. Self. Defense. Period. If you hadn’t pulled the trigger, he would have killed you. The man was a maniac.”

  “Intellectually, I understand that. But it’s more than the shooting. It’s my lack of judgment in getting involved with Caleb. It’s Emily Baxter dying in my place. It’s been hard, but I’ve been way too self-absorbed. Reese couldn’t take it anymore; I drove him away.” Alexa cringed that she still became so upset about all of this. Scout sensed Alexa’s distress and returned to the deck to rest his big head on her knee.

  “Reese thought it best to give you some space. When his friend, John Lucas, called with a job on the predator research project in Kenya, he leapt at it. That decision wasn’t just about you, Alexa. I could tell that the park ranger job bored him at times. Besides, the way he talked about Africa, you could just tell that his first stint there claimed a piece of his heart.”

  Jim had shared a house with his fellow forest ranger, Reese Michaels, so Alexa respected his insight into her ex-boyfriend’s point of view.

  “It was the right thing for Reese, and probably the right thing for me. We left things open. Maybe we’ll find our way back to each other. Maybe not. Neither of us made any promises. But, damn.” Alexa slammed her empty tea mug down onto the table. “Just when I’m finally getting my act together, it’s déjà vu all over again. Here I am, minding my own business, and I find someone else who has been murdered.”

  “The whole thing is pretty damn freaky. I’d like to see the statistical odds of someone coming across two dead bodies.” Jim winced. “Ruling out war zones, of course.”

  Jim’s eyes shifted to a point behind Alexa’s shoulder. He smiled and jumped up to greet his girlfriend.

  “It’s my sweet Melissa. How are you feeling?” he asked as he folded her into his arms.

  “Much better. Thanks to both of you. Is there more of that coffee somewhere?” Melissa wore sweats that Alexa had loaned her last night. The pants looked more like capris on her tall body. Against her auburn hair, still damp from the shower, Melissa’s wan face appeared paler than chalk.

  “Sure, let me get you a cup. Sugar, but no milk, right? How about some cereal or toast?” Alexa gave Melissa a quick hug and headed for the kitchen.

  “Toast would be good.”

  When Alexa brought Melissa breakfast, Jim asked, “What’s the time? I have a shift that starts at noon. I can try to get someone to cover if you need me, but I have to let them know.”

  Alexa glanced at her watch. “It’s almost ten-thirty. I expect to get a call from the state police soon. They want Melissa and me to come in and give a formal statement today.”

  “Do you think you can handle that, darlin’?” Jim asked Melissa with a frown.

  “Yes. I’m feeling much better.” Melissa bit her lip. “I lost it yesterday. First, spending a few hours in jail. Then, finding poor Cecily lying in a pool of blood. It was just too much. Those EMS guys gave me some potent stuff. Not only did I sleep like a log, but I feel like I can deal with Cecily’s death. The police interview. Whatever I can do to help.” Her voice became plaintive. “What kind of sick bastard would kill a woman whose only goal in life was to help others?”

  Alexa could see through Melissa’s struggle to put on a brave front. Clearly, she hadn’t fully recovered. But her BFF had to find her own way. Alexa knew from experience that recovering from violence was a personal journey. Still, a little encouragement couldn’t hurt.

  “Trooper Taylor will track the killer down. I have a lot of faith in him.” Alexa stood up. “You two can discuss Jim’s work schedule. I’ll call Graham to let him know what happened. Melissa, I’d feel better if he goes along to your police interview.” With Scout on her heels, Alexa headed inside the cabin to phone her brother. She knew that Graham, the managing partner in their family law firm, would agree to sit in on the interviews.

  On the way to police headquarters, Alexa swung by Melissa’s little stone cottage on the outskirts of town. She lounged on the front porch swing while her friend went inside to change into fresh clothes.

  Melissa emerged a short time later dressed in one of her trademark hippie dresses. It seemed like the redhead had recovered much of her equilibrium with the change of clothes. Although Alexa had upgraded her own outfit to a nice shirt and jeans, Melissa’s transformation left Alexa feeling a tad underdre
ssed.

  Graham met them at police headquarters. Alexa, glad to see her big brother, felt like the reinforcements had arrived.

  He leaned down to put an arm around Alexa’s shoulders in an awkward hug, a look of concern creasing his face. “Lexie, are you OK? I can’t believe you’re involved in something like this again. Melissa, I’m so sorry. I understand that Cecily Townes was a good friend. I didn’t know her well, but Kate and I have attended a number of RESIST fundraisers. With her energy and dedication, Cecily was a force of nature. It’s hard to believe she’s gone.”

  Trooper Taylor, dressed in his trademark sports jacket and khakis, ushered all three of them into a small conference room. “Thanks for coming in. I know that last night was rough. Probably the last thing you want to do is relive it. But it is important that we go through everything that happened once again. It’s possible that you have remembered something new—something that you forgot to mention in the stress of the moment. We’ll need to speak to each of you separately.”

  Trooper Cannon appeared in the doorway and said, “Ms. Lambert. We’d like to start with you. We’re hoping you can supply some additional background on the victim.”

  Alexa got the message and rose. “I’ll be out in the waiting area. Just call when you’re ready for me.”

  Sitting in the tiny waiting area, Alexa tried to keep busy by checking emails on her phone. She had trouble concentrating on anything but images of Cecily Townes’ body and that blood-soaked room.

  Graham sat in on Alexa’s interview as well. The troopers covered the same ground as the night before, often asking the same question in several ways. They kept honing in on the moment when Alexa found Cecily’s body.

  “You say that the blood looked like it was still running across the floor. Did you hear any sound of liquid dripping?” Trooper Taylor continued with the questions.

  “That’s an awful thought.” Alexa shivered. “No. The room was silent, except for the sounds coming from outside. The sound of thunder and flies. It had started to thunder just before we went inside the house. And the flies covered the outside of the windows. There were so many; I could almost feel the low hum of their buzzing.” Alexa twisted her hands.