Slumbered to Death

by Vanessa Gray Bartal

  “You’re quiet,” Luke whispered. He waited until Abby began to snore before he spoke. He had positioned the cot beside the couch. Sadie thought it was a sweet attempt to offer protection.

  “Just thinking, trying to puzzle things together.”

  “It’s okay to admit you’re afraid. Everyone is sometimes.”

  “I’m more angry than afraid,” she said.

  “Ah, Sadie,” he said, exasperated because he thought she was putting up a front. She wasn’t, though. She was genuinely irate. Tomorrow she vowed to find answers and put an end to the odd events. “Don’t do anything crazy.”

  “If figuring out the truth is crazy, then I plan to do something crazy,” she said.

  “Don’t do anything without thinking it through. Don’t do something because you’re angry. Be cautious.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “Promise.”

  “I promise.”

  “Pinky swear.”

  “Luke.”

  “You’re the one who said a pinky swear is an unbreakable bond with dire consequences.” His hand sought hers and twined their pinkies together.

  Sadie sighed, but he obviously wouldn’t let it go until she gave in. “I pinky swear that I will be careful.”

  “Good,” he said. He sounded sleepy. Their conjoined hands were still resting on her stomach.

  “You want your hand back?”

  “You can keep it.”

  “Good.” She rolled over, tucked his hand beneath her chin, and fell asleep.

  In the morning, she refused to be skittish when she went to her room to get ready. This was her home, and she wouldn’t let anyone rob her of her peace or security. Downstairs Abby seemed to be feeling the same as she angrily slammed around, making a list of security upgrades. Luke ate his breakfast in silence and watched the two women with a thoughtful expression. They were so alike, Abby and Sadie. Each determined not to be afraid. He was afraid; did that make him less of a man? Whoever was purposely trying to scare Sadie was scaring him instead.

  Someone had slipped into their house, had invaded her bedroom, and touched her clothes. How many other times had he been there? Had he watched her sleep? Luke pictured the anonymous someone stalking Sadie while she slept and felt nauseated. What was he to do about it? He could shoot; Gideon had taught him well. But keeping a loaded gun at the ready seemed like a recipe for disaster. He wasn’t much good in a fight, especially not with a trained soldier, if that was who it was. He felt helpless, and that helplessness made him depressed and cranky. For all intents and purposes, he was the man of the house. That meant something to him even if Sadie and Abby didn’t consider it. What was he to do? How was he supposed to protect his friends against an unseen enemy? And how was he supposed to protect them from themselves when each of them seemed determined to rush headlong into danger?

  “Maybe we should put barbed wire around the hedges,” Abby muttered as she made another pass through the house.

  “Where’s my pepper spray?” Sadie asked as she rifled the kitchen drawers. While he didn’t disagree that she should keep the pepper spray handy, Luke had a feeling she intended to use it proactively instead of as a defense mechanism.

  “What exactly are you going to do today?” he asked.

  “Ben and I are going to track down Roy Mueller and Vic Hutchens. And before you say anything, I printed out pictures of both of them for Ben to make sure they’re the same people we’re looking for before we find them. And, yes, I will find out which of them was in my room before I beat the living daylights out of him. And, yes, I’m being hyperbolic about the beating. I’ll only pummel him a little. And, yes, I will make sure Ben is with me at all times. And, yes, I do have my phone and it’s charged.”

  “I’m glad we could have this little talk,” Luke said. “How long do we have to know each other before I become obsolete in every discussion?”

  She checked her watch. “You have a few more years by my calculations. I still enjoy hearing your opinions on popular culture and literature.”

  “Thank goodness for books and movies,” he said. “Can I say once more and for the record that I don’t approve of anything you’re about to do today?”

  “Duly noted.”

  “What would it take for me to be able to influence your actions?”

  “A miracle?” she tried.

  “That’s what I thought.” He caught her arm and pulled her close for a crushing hug. “Be careful. I hate this.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured him, but she returned his hug with interest, squeezing so tight she pushed the air from his lungs.

  “I’ll have my phone on even when I’m in class. Update me.”

  She pressed his face between her palms. “You worry too much.”

  “I have a bad feeling.”

  “You always do.”

  “It’s different this time.”

  It wasn’t different this time, Sadie knew, because he thought every bad feeling spelled doom. He really was a worrier, but he wouldn’t be Luke if he optimistically headed into danger with good cheer and a smile. She patted his cheek and he gave her a little shove away. A condescending gesture was a sure way to chase away his gloom. “Have a good day,” she said.

  “Don’t die,” he replied so that she was laughing when she got into her car. Her laughter soon faded. Ben White was a gloomy as Luke.

  “Sadie, are you okay?” He pulled her close and crushed her in a hug. The close contact felt odd after her earlier hug with Luke and she eased away as soon as she could without offending him.

  “I’m fine,” she said. She smiled to show him she meant it.

  “I don’t know you well enough to judge if you’re lying or crazy brave,” he said.

  “Maybe I’m both,” she teased. “Seriously though, Ben, I’m fine. I decided a long time ago not to let other people’s actions upset me. Nothing really happened beyond another silly note. Let’s not make more of it than it is. In fact, let’s focus on business.” She handed him the pictures she had printed of Roy Mueller and Vic Hutchins.

  He studied them intently before answering. “It’s been ten years, but I would say with a large amount of certainty that this is them.”

  Sadie’s stomach flipped. They were on to something big; she knew it. “Ready to get some answers?”

  “More than I thought humanly possible,” Ben said. He smiled at her and held the door. Unlike Luke, he didn’t mind that she drove. He sat in the passenger seat and peppered her with questions. Had she seen anything unusual the night before in her house? What had she heard? Did any cars drive by? When she answered no to all of the questions, she felt like a fool. Why wasn’t she more aware of her surroundings? Why wasn’t she more observant? She was a professional investigator now and yet someone had slipped through her defenses. Unbelievable, and also incredibly frustrating.

  “You’re scowling,” Ben said.

  Not only was she scowling, but she was hunched defensively over the steering wheel. She straightened and smoothed her expression. “I’m a little irritated.”

  “A little irritated,” Ben repeated. “Sadie, someone broke into your bedroom. You have to right to be irate and afraid.”

  “I’m not afraid,” she stubbornly insisted. What was it with the men of the world who needed her to be afraid? Just because she looked like a delicate flower didn’t mean she was one.

  Ben must have noticed the vehemence in her tone because he changed the subject. “Who are we visiting first?”

  “Roy Mueller. He has some indictments for petty crime.”

  “Seriously?” Ben said. “He was a straight shooter in the army, a stickler for the rules. He wanted to be the team leader so bad he could taste it.”

  “Maybe bitterness because he wasn’t left a bad taste in his mouth and turned him,” Sadie suggested. “Who knows why people do the things they do?”

  “Who indeed?” Ben said. They rolled to a stop in front of the address. Sadie knew it was the right hous
e because it was surrounded by patrol cars and yellow police tape.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mumbled.

  “Not again,” Ben agreed.

  “Maybe it has nothing to do with us,” she said. “Maybe he was picked up for something unrelated.” But when she stepped from the car and saw Detective Jenks, her hope sank. He caught an eyeful of her at the same time and his look turned thunderous.

  “Cooper, why do you keep arriving on my crime scenes?”

  “To be fair, I was first at the last one,” she said. “What happened?”

  “None of your business. Go away.”

  “What do you think are the chances that will work?” she said.

  “You’re a pushy kid,” he said.

  “Never turn your back on a cheerleader. So what happened?”

  “Someone popped the guy who lived here.”

  “He’s dead?”

  “Do you take my clever slang to mean anything else?” Jenks said. “Now suppose you tell me why I’ve seen your pretty face at two murder scenes.”

  Sadie looked at Ben. His expression was ambivalent. Either he was giving her permission to tell or he had no opinion. Either way, she thought it was time she informed law enforcement of the situation. “Can we go somewhere for a private chat?”

  “Step into my office.” He motioned to a black and white truck emblazoned with a crime investigation logo.

  “Atwood has a forensics truck?” Sadie said.

  “Of course not. What do you think this is, Las Vegas? This is on loan. We borrow it whenever there’s a murder, which is twice since I met you. Start talking.”

  “Mr. White came to me a few days ago because he’s had some insomnia, some nightmares.” She wouldn’t tell him about the blood until she knew more information. Ben was her client; no need to incriminate him before the facts were on the table. “We began to believe that his time in the army was somehow involved. Edmond Hankins was in the same unit. We wanted to talk to him and ask questions, but when we arrived, we found him dead.”

  “And you’re here today because…”

  “Roy Mueller was in the same unit.”

  The detective stared at her a few beats. She could tell he was weighing her story, sifting it for truth and lies. “Three men from the same army unity who live in the same community. Two of them are dead.” His eyes fastened on Ben. “Look who’s still alive.”

  “He’s not the only one,” Sadie said. Her protective instincts were driving her full steam ahead. She warned herself to take a step back and relax. “There’s someone else. He was on our list of people to visit today. We stopped here instead.”

  “Who is it?” Jenks asked.

  “If I tell you, you have to let us go with you to interview him,” Sadie said.

  “If you don’t tell me, I’ll arrest you for obstruction,” Jenks said.

  “That wouldn’t benefit either of us, and the charge would never stick. Believe me--I used to date a guy who clerks for a Supreme Court judge. My way, we both win.”

  “How do I win by letting you tag along when I visit this guy?” Jenks asked.

  “Because then it will be over and you never have to see me again.”

  “Your way is sounding better and better,” Jenks agreed. “Let’s go.” He stood and led them to an unmarked police car.

  “We’ll meet you there,” Sadie said. “That way we can leave straight from his house without coming back here.”

  “What if I want you to come back here?” Jenks said. “What if I have more questions and want you to spend a long time answering them?”

  “Then too bad. You can’t hold us without our consent unless you arrest us, and you can’t arrest us because you have nothing to go on,” Sadie said.

  “I hate civilians who know the law,” Jenks muttered.

  Sadie smiled. She was starting to like Jenks. Maybe because he reminded her of Gideon without all the disappointment and years of baggage between them. She followed him to Vic Hutchens’ house. Unlike so many that she had seen lately, this house was nice. It was well-kept with a trim lawn and tasteful decorations.

  “Looks like Vic’s done okay for himself,” Ben commented. “Good for him.”

  “We should probably hold off on the adulation until we’re sure he’s not a psychotic murderer,” Sadie said.

  “Either way it’s a nice house,” Ben said.

  A woman in a robe met them at the door, her hand at her throat. “Is it Vic?”

  “Do you have reason to believe we’re here about your husband, Ma’am?” Jenks asked.

  “Yes, I called and reported him missing last night when he didn’t come home. They told me I would have to wait a few days to make sure he’s really gone. But he’s never gone missing like this before. Are you here to make a report?”

  “May we come in?” Jenks asked.

  The grip on her throat became tighter. Her eyes widened with fear. “Oh, what is it? Is he dead? Please just tell me.”

  “He’s not dead,” Sadie said. Jenks shot her a look filled with a mix of rage and indignation. “I’m not a cop, and I don’t have to play the cop game. The poor woman thinks we’re here to do a death notice. Put her out of her misery.” She turned back to the woman. “We have no idea where your husband is. We would like to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course,” she said. She led them inside. “I should change.”

  “You’re fine,” Sadie said. “We don’t mind at all. Do we, guys?”

  Jenks rolled his eyes, but Ben hopped on board. “No, you’re fine. It’s early, so of course you’re not dressed yet. Who would be?”

  The question was ridiculous because seventy five percent of people in the room were dressed, but she looked at Ben with something akin to mesmerization. There was a soothing, hypnotic tone to his voice. The realization made Sadie feel better about her own reaction to the man.

  “Can we sit?” Jenks asked, breaking the spell that Ben had cast.

  “Of course,” she said, snapping to attention with a flush. “Please, have a seat.”

  They shared the settee across from her. Sadie could tell it took effort for Jenks to stifle his grumbling when she sandwiched herself between him and Ben. If one of them wanted to raise an arm, they would have to do it together, marionette style.

  “When is the last time you saw your husband?” Jenks asked. He tried to reach in his pocket, presumably for his notebook, but Sadie’s arm felt like it was sewn to his. He gave up with a huff and crossed his hands instead.

  “Yesterday morning before work.”

  “How was his manner? Did he seem at all unusual to you?”

  “He was running a little late, which wasn’t like him. Otherwise no.”

  “Did he make it to work?”

  “Yes. He worked a full day, but then never came home.” Tears flooded her eyes. She pressed her fingers to the sockets. “Sorry.”

  “Take your time,” Jenks said in a gentle voice Sadie wouldn’t have believed possible. She quirked an eyebrow at him. He elbowed her, but they were so close together it might have been an accident. “Did you try his cell phone?”

  “Yes. It rang and rang and went to voicemail every time.”

  “Had you been having any marital difficulties lately?”

  “Nothing out of the ordinary. Like most couples, we bicker. But nothing serious. I would say we’re happy. Vic can be a little distant at times, but otherwise…” she trailed off and pressed her hand to her eyes again. “Do you think he’s left me? Is that what this is about?”

  “We’re simply trying to get more information about your husband. Can you tell me what he was wearing yesterday?”

  “I…I don’t remember. I know that seems horrible, but a lot of his clothes look the same. I could check his closet to see what’s missing.”

  “Could you?” Jenks asked. Mrs. Hutchins left the room and Jenks turned to Sadie. “I’m not getting anything from her. This house looks like the Cleavers live here.
You really expect me to believe the husband is a cold-blooded army commando killer?”

  “Yes,” Sadie said.

  “Give me one good reason,” Jenks commanded.

  She worked her arm free and pointed to an item across the room. “Because that’s my music box.”