by A M Ialacci
Will looked through the photos while Cleo donned the offered pair of gloves and flipped open the sketchbook. She let out a wolf whistle, and Will raised his head, curious.
“What?”
“Shelley mentioned that Nicholas struggled with what she thought was dyslexia.” Cleo looked into Will’s eyes.
“And?”
“These sketches are quite good. I think they are Nicholas’s story to tell.” Cleo turned the sketchbook around and showed Will a sketch of a man and a woman kissing. “Who do you think that is?”
“How would I know?”
“Look at it again, Will. Closer.”
Will studied the drawing. “Do you think that’s Travis Brenner?”
Cleo nodded. “And that’s not Shelley.”
Will turned his head and looked again. “No, I don’t think it is either. Do you think Nicholas saw this and recorded it, or do you think it was something he dreamed up?”
“No way for us to know, unless…”
Will shook his head. “Oh no. No, we’re not doing that.”
“Doing what?” Cleo asked.
“Questioning someone on the basis of a drawing we found by a person who is dead. That’s all kinds of wrong. This is not evidence.”
Cleo shrugged. “I think it’s worth considering. This is the voice of your victim, here.”
Will studied Cleo, then sighed. “Why don’t we get some pictures of those so we can look at them without destroying the chain of evidence?”
“My camera was stolen. Or have you forgotten?”
“You have a phone, don’t you?” Will asked.
Cleo sighed and opened the sketchbook on the floor, using her phone to capture the images. It just wasn’t the same. She turned when Will cleared his throat. “What did you find?”
“Looks like a note from Travis Brenner.”
“What?” Cleo stood and looked over Will’s shoulder.
The note did not name Nicholas specifically, but said, Stay away from her, or I’ll have to deal with you. The initials TB were on the bottom corner of the note.
“Wonder which ‘her’ he was talking about,” she said.
Will gave her a look. “You’re getting ahead of yourself again.”
“I see you made your own little leap there. That might not be from Travis Brenner.” She smiled.
“It is. I’ve seen notepads just like this in his bachelor belongings in his storage unit.” Will grinned.
“Okay, smarty-pants. Let me finish taking photos, and then are we done here?”
“Yes, I’ll bring his belongings to the station, just in case.”
She pulled the Mini into the station for the second time that day. “I think I need some honorary flashing lights or something, don’t you?”
Will chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do. You want to wait here? Won’t take me long.”
“Okay,” she said, plugging her phone into her car’s stereo system so she could listen to some Social Distortion while she waited. Will returned after a few tracks, and she asked, “Drop you at home, then?”
“Actually, I… uh… I don’t usually invite myself over to someone’s house, but I was thinking…”
“Out with it, man.” Cleo punched Will’s arm.
“Can we go to your house? At the end of the day, I like to review my notes and summarize what I’m working on, but you’ve been like a second pair of eyes, and I thought…”
“You thought we could hash through the case so far? An excellent idea. It’s almost like I’m your partner,” Cleo commented.
“Okay, not quite. And to think I was going to get you a dash light for your car.”
“What? You mean you’re not going to?” Cleo asked.
Will shook his head and laughed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Cleo held out a mug of coffee to Will and sat opposite him at the large oak dining table where her computer used to be.
“Have you decided what you’re going to order to replace your stuff?” Will took the mug and stretched his legs out under the table.
“No, I haven’t even really looked,” she said, trying to swallow away the lump in her throat.
Will raised his eyebrows but said, “Yeah, I can see where that might involve a little grief.”
She nodded and said nothing, fingering the handle of her mug.
“I think your work is outstanding, by the way,” he offered.
“My work?” she asked.
“You have a few shots in the hallway. I saw them when I… uh… dropped you off before.”
“Oh,” Cleo said and blushed. “I feel strangely exposed.”
“Well, I thought it was a bit odd to hang them in the hallway where virtually no one would see them. They should take more prominence.”
“Well.” Cleo gestured around her. “You can see I don’t really have anything where I like it, yet. It’s…not my home yet.”
“Jury’s still out on whether or not you’re staying, huh?” Will looked at the boxes in the corners and the bluebirds in every nook and cranny.
Cleo touched her nose and nodded. “I mean, you’re a nice guy and all, and I love my neighbors, but if it comes down to axe-wielding serial killers or finding a new place, that for sale sign can’t go up fast enough.”
“I hear you. Crimson Falls isn’t for everyone,” Will said, but his smile had faded, and he looked at the table as he said it. “What did we learn today, grasshopper?”
“We learned that I am a nice person, and you think you are, too.” She smiled.
He laughed at the memory, lifting the mug of coffee to his lips.
“I learned that there are things that are too important for my civilian ears, yet here you are talking to me about ‘your’ case.”
“Point taken. Still, I can’t show my hand, and you shouldn’t either,” he said, wagging his finger at her.
“You better put that finger away or you might lose it,” she said.
He looked around and asked, “Where is the hellhound, anyway?”
Cleo pointed to the living room. “He’s over you. You’re yesterday’s news.”
Buttons chose that moment to jump into Will’s lap, and Cleo could hear him purring from across the table. “What the…?”
“What?” Will asked.
“Buttons hates everyone and everything. But he seems to be eating you up with a spoon.”
“What can I say? It’s my charming personality.” Will smirked.
“Yeah, that must be it,” Cleo said, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, we learned that Travis Brenner is a liar.”
“Kinda knew that anyway,” Will said.
“And that he has bruising on his neck he refused to explain.”
“Yeah…that.”
“That his crossbow just happens to be MIA.”
“Well, missing, anyway. We don’t know if it’s seeing any action.”
“Like it’s owner… Hey-O!” Cleo said.
Will laughed. “You are terrible. Just because Nicholas may have drawn someone that looks like Travis in a compromising position with someone who doesn’t look like Shelley does not mean anything, okay?”
“To you,” Cleo said, raising her eyebrows. “Must be a woman thing.”
“We also learned he may have threatened Nicholas with a note.”
“Yeah, that too. Did you bag that for evidence?”
“Of course,” he said.
“Did you know Maeve and Harriet are lovers?”
“Doesn’t surprise me. There have been rumors for years. Not that it’s anyone’s business.”
“It might be if it provides Maeve with a motive. Remember I saw and heard the argument and exchange of threats between Maeve and Nicholas.”
“Circumstantial evidence at best.”
“Enough for you to stop by her house to ask a few questions!” Cleo objected.
“Asking questions is a far cry from accusing someone of criminal activity.”
Remembering her encounter with Maeve,
Cleo clamped her mouth shut and said nothing.
“And let’s not forget the inimitable Jimmy Stubbs,” Will said.
“He thinks he’s slick, doesn’t he?” Cleo remarked.
“He does. His type are a dime a dozen. Think they are smarter than everyone else but are just as dumb as every other criminal who’s ever been caught.”
“Any idea what you guys will find in that safe-deposit box?”
“Something worth risking going to jail for, apparently. Possibly something worth killing for.”
“You do think it’s murder?” Cleo asked.
“No, I can’t go there yet,” Will said and stretched, dumping Buttons on the floor with an angry meow. “There has to be more conclusive evidence. It just hasn’t appeared yet.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Cleo let her head drop onto her folded hands on the table.
“Cleo, this is how it works. You can’t arrest people willy-nilly. The prosecutor won’t even try a case unless there is insurmountable evidence against a suspect.” Will stood and started to pace behind the dining table. “Right now, this is an accident, manslaughter maybe, with a couple extra counts of negligence and leaving the scene. And we don’t have any idea who could have shot him accidentally because we’ve been chasing down people who could have had a beef with him instead of talking to hunters, the most likely people to have shot him with a damned crossbow.”
Cleo was quiet a moment. “Feel better now?”
“Goddammit, woman, you are infuriating sometimes.” He ran his hand through his hair.
“So I’m told.” She sipped her coffee and looked up at him
“I’m going to head home.”
“Let me get my keys.” Cleo started to stand.
“No, I’ll walk.”
“Are you sure?” She sat back down.
“Yep. Need to think. Thanks, though.” Will picked up his hat and let himself out the front door.
“Well, okay, then,” Cleo said to the empty room as the latch clicked closed behind her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Cleo was startled awake by the phone ringing but disoriented by the lack of light in the room. What time was it?
“Hello?” she answered.
“We’ve got to go. A fisherman on the river found something.”
“Be there in five,” Cleo said and hung up. She yawned and stretched, finally getting a chance to see what time it was. Five AM. She couldn’t remember the last time she was up this early. Scrambling to get some fresh clothes on, at least. No time for coffee. Maybe Will would have some ready, but she doubted it.
She slipped her coat on and then slid into the Mini, curious about how different her neighborhood looked in the gray light before dawn. In the city, there would have been more than a handful of cyclists and joggers out at this hour, but here, everyone was still asleep. Maybe everything was slower here.
Will was waiting in the driveway, without coffee, she noted.
“No time for coffee,” he said as he sat in the passenger seat and closed the door. “We’ll have to pick something up later.”
“Where exactly am I headed?”
“Head back to where you parked the night we found Nicholas. I want to get there from the scene.”
“What did he find?”
“I’m not sure,” Will said. He was a terrible liar.
Cleo did as she was asked and followed Will into the underbrush after locking the car. With no dog to lead her, she had to trust that Will knew the way. Luckily, he was about as good at finding his way, and it was only a few minutes until they found the clearing where Nicholas had died.
“Okay, now we head back here toward the river.”
“I’ll trust you know where you’re going.”
“I do,” he said.
It was actually a short hike to the area of the woods lining river, and though they saw a few broken branches here and there that could indicate that someone passed that way, it was just as likely caused by an animal as it was their killer a few days ago. There was no discernible path, and it would have taken a large team to comb the woods to find one.
They came out of the tree line and traversed down a bit of a muddy slope to some large stones along the water. Cleo had seen the river wind its way through the town but had never considered its actual path. This spot was quite beautiful, especially with the early-morning sun illuminating the bright reds and oranges of the leaves in the trees.
Even with the riotous color of the foliage, it was easy to see the fluorescent orange of a sportsman’s clothing about seventy yards southeast of their location. With a glance at each other, they began the precarious trek toward the large man flagging them down, stepping on slick rocks carefully so as not to fall into the chilly water rushing by them. Once they were within hearing distance, the man began to yell to them, something about finding something in the rocks as he was setting up to fish. Will held up a finger to ask the man to wait until they were face-to-face.
Finally, the large rocks gave way to an area of smaller rocks with surer footing, and they were able to close the remaining distance more quickly.
“Ronnie,” Will said and shook the man’s hand.
“Ronald Perez.” The large man held out his hand to Cleo. “USMC, retired.”
She shook it and nodded.
“The dispatcher said you’d found something this morning?” Will asked.
Ronald pointed to a bright orange piece of clothing wedged between two of the large boulders where he was standing. “I was setting up my gear about an hour ago and saw it. I figured someone else had left it, but then I looked closer.”
Will took a rubber glove from his back pocket and put it on his left hand, then yanked an orange hunting vest from the wedge. Laying it on one of the boulders, he smoothed it out and then glanced back at Cleo. It wasn’t necessary to point out the bloody hole on the lower left panel. From that hole, a ragged slit was cut to the zipper.
Cleo looked Will in the eye, a slow smile spreading.
Will shook his head. “Unnecessary,” he cautioned.
Cleo nodded without saying a word. She had been right. This was now officially a murder.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Cleo watched Will and Chief Chapman talking through the windows of Chapman’s office. She caught herself hoping that they were too busy to assign more officers to the case now that it was a murder. More officers meant that one of them could drive Will around, which meant she was superfluous. But she wasn’t done with this case, even if it was done with her. She was midway through a mental plan to bug Will’s desk when she realized he was standing in front of her.
“You all right, Cleo?” He looked worried.
“Yeah…why?”
“I said your name like three times.”
“You did? Well, uh, how’d it go in there?”
Will furrowed his brow. “Fine. We’re officially treating it as a homicide now, but manpower is a little thin, because, well, the whole ‘curse’ thing. Plus, I’m the most senior officer, so…”
“So?”
“So you and I can keep doing what we’re doing. If more officers are freed up, he may add them to the team, but for right now, you and I are it.”
“Well, it’s really just you. I’m just the chauffeur-slash-scribe.”
“Well, that goes without saying.” Will flashed her a smile.
“Funny. What’s next, then?”
“Well, scribe, of all the people we’ve spoken to, which one do you think is the most likely?”
Cleo thought. “I guess I’d have to say Travis Brenner. I don’t believe his alibi because Shelley lied about it—”
“What makes you say that?”
“She looked at the floor when she said he was with her that night.”
Will nodded. “I didn’t catch that. What else?”
“Says he owns a bow, but it wasn’t where he said it was. Where’s his freakin’ bow, Will?”
Will chuckled.
; “And then there’s the whole thing about the bruises on his neck. I think he got into it with Nicholas. Which would give him a motive for revenge,” Cleo said.
“Whoa. Did you hear yourself say ‘I think’ in there? Not a fact but conjecture. Be careful with that. Let’s go see him and hear what he has to say.”
She nodded, grabbed her keys and coat, and beat Will to the door.
Cleo shut the door to the Mini and stretched, unused to driving an hour straight with no stops, but Will had insisted. CommCorp Industries, Inc. occupied the entire third floor of a four-story cement building in a not-so-nice area of Riverside. When the elevator deposited Will and Cleo onto the low-pile carpet, they took in the maze of wall-to-wall cubicles. After checking in with the receptionist, they saw Travis’s head pop up like a whack-a-mole and then head in their direction. He was still wearing his headset.
“When you said you were in sales, I thought…” Cleo started and then bit her tongue at Will’s look.
“It is sales. It just happens to take place over the phone,” Travis said, shooting his cuffs and giving her a look of distaste. “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing for them to lead the way toward the only available door that wasn’t the elevator. They stepped through and realized it was the dingy stairwell. “No one will overhear us here,” Travis assured his guests.
“Good. Well,” Will said. “I wanted to clarify some of the things we discussed the other evening, if I may.”
“Of course.”
