Cavanaugh Strong

by Marie Ferrarella

  Pocketing the cell phone, she turned toward the coroner and murmured, “Thanks,” then said the words she knew he was dying to hear, “we’ll get out of your hair now.”

  “Don’t rush out on my account,” Addams retorted sarcastically.

  “We could stay awhile,” Duncan deadpanned, turning to face Addams.

  A look of horror instantly came over the coroner’s face. The next second, he ordered them to leave in less-than-dulcet tones. “Get out.”

  “You really do need to work on your social skills,” Noelle told the man as she walked out of the room. “Someone might get the idea that you don’t like them. Not me, of course.” She deliberately grinned at him as she left.

  “I think the man must live at the morgue,” she said to Duncan as they walked down the long, dimly lit corridor.

  “Given the hour and the fact that we found Addams there, you’re probably right.” Reaching the one lone elevator, he pressed the up button. “Are you buying this niece story?”

  The elevator doors opened almost before he removed his finger from the button and they got on. Noelle jabbed at the button that would take them to the first floor. “Well, stranger things have happened and he was cleaned up, despite the marks he had from the accident. Shave, hair cut. Could be he reconnected with a long-estranged family member. Those clothes he had on looked as if they were relatively new. Maybe he did come into some luck. Too bad it didn’t last.”

  “Or maybe,” Duncan speculated as they got off, “that luck he came into was only supposed to last for a limited time.”

  Noelle watched him with interest. Right now, she was open to any theory. They needed something to tie all this together if they were going to make a case—and in her bones, she had a feeling that these deaths were connected.

  “Go on,” she urged.

  “Whoever got him cleaned up—this mysterious niece or maybe someone else—might have had an ulterior motive in mind,” he pointed out.

  They had one thing staring them in the face. “Like collecting on the life insurance?”

  His mouth curved as he nodded. She was having trouble keeping her mind on the subject at hand. His smile had instantly brought back memories of their night together.

  She needed to put a lid on that, she silently lectured herself.

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” Duncan was saying. He went back to something he’d suggested while they were driving to the morgue. “Why don’t we go back to the overpass and see if any of this guy’s buddies are still there and in the mood to talk.”

  “Absolutely,” she agreed. “But let’s stop at a fast-food place first.”

  He looked at her in surprise. “You’re hungry?” he asked.

  “Not particularly, but they probably are,” she told him as they headed back to his sedan. “Nothing loosens a tongue like a full belly.”

  “You’re more devious than I thought. This is definitely going down in the books as a night of revelations about you, O’Banyon,” he said.

  What else, she couldn’t help wondering, was he putting down in that “book”?

  * * *

  A homeless man who seemed far too overdressed for the weather and rocked slightly to and fro as they spoke to him was the first to be lured out from the cardboard shelter where he was sleeping. He stared now at the photo image on the cell phone being held up in front of him. Dirty, trembling fingers held tightly onto the half-finished double cheeseburger he’d been given.

  “Yeah, that’s Alfie. That’s him.” He shook his head, looking genuinely upset. “Man, just when he thought he had a shot at getting back on his feet, that happens. There’s no justice. No justice,” he lamented, taking another large bite of the burger. One last bite and the burger was history.

  “What kind of a shot?” Noelle asked, slipping another burger into his hand, trading it for the empty wrapper he held.

  Looking grateful, the man paused to take another large bite. This time he chewed before swallowing. “That lady who came by a couple of months ago, he told me she had a job for him, that if things went well, he’d be earning good money for his trouble.” Noelle thought she’d never seen such sadness when he told them, “Alfie said he’d come back for me. Guess he won’t, now.”

  “Did he happen to say her name?” Duncan pressed.

  “Was it Susan?” Noelle asked, remembering the name of the woman who Johnson had said befriended his neighbor.

  “No, it wasn’t Susan.” Hapless shoulders rose and fell. “It was some state name,” the man said. He looked as if he was literally straining his brain, trying to remember. “Georgia—no, that wasn’t it.”

  “Virginia?” Noelle asked. It was the only other state that came to mind.

  The dirty face seemed to almost light up with recognition. “Yeah, that was it, Virginia. Her name was Virginia. Pretty.”

  “Would you happen to know what kind of a job she was offering Alfie?” Duncan asked.

  The homeless man shook his head. “He never said. Just that it was easy.”

  Noelle scrolled through the pictures on her phone until she came to the sketch that had been drawn after Johnson had described the woman who had gotten his neighbor to buy a life insurance policy.

  “Did she look anything like this?” she asked, showing the homeless man the drawing.

  He squinted, staring, then took another bite before answering. “Maybe. I’m not sure. She was pretty,” he told them again. “But not young like you,” he added, watching her. “I think Alfie had a thing for her.”

  They were finally getting somewhere, Noelle thought, eagerly pressing for more. “Do you remember anything else? Was she tall, short, thin, fat—”

  “Tall, thin. She had blond hair, maybe light brown. I’m not sure,” he admitted. As he thought, he finished the second burger. “I was kinda out of it that night she came by. It was the anniversary of the day my wife ran out on me and I kinda wanted to dull the pain. Had a little too much to drink, I guess. Sorry,” he apologized, looking genuinely repentant in her opinion.

  “Don’t be sorry,” Noelle told him. “You’ve been a great help.” She pressed a twenty into the man’s filthy hand. “That’s for more food,” she said. “Not for pain duller, understand?”

  The man bobbed his head up and down so hard, she thought for a moment that he might make himself dizzy. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Okay,” Noelle said, turning back to her partner. “Let’s see if anyone else can remember seeing Alfie’s benefactress.”

  “She was either that or one hell of a lethal con artist,” Duncan countered.

  “My money’s on con artist,” Noelle said.

  She and Duncan went back to the overpass to see if they could get any further details about this woman.

  Chapter 15

  Two hours of questioning the handful of homeless people staking out a tiny bit of space beneath the overpass yielded no further information for them to go on. None of the three men and one woman admitted even to seeing the woman who had singled Alfie out, apparently taking him under her wing and away from the impromptu encampment.

  “I don’t get it,” Noelle complained as they walked back to the white sedan. “How can—I’m assuming—a fairly well-dressed woman supposedly make her way around a homeless encampment without anyone seeing her?” she shook her head, frustrated.

  Duncan glanced over his shoulder at the people they’d just talked to. “Because all they want to do is to disappear. A lot of these people are either rabidly in denial of their situation, or so deep into finding ways to numb themselves to the pain of what they’ve gone through, are going through, that they shut out everything around them. It’s a mind-set. We’re lucky to have found that one guy to talk to us,” he said, referring to the first homeless man they had encountered.

  “You sound as
if you have firsthand information about that kind of life—or lack thereof.”

  “Secondhand,” he corrected.

  That still didn’t answer her question. “Care to elaborate?”

  “Brennan.”

  “Elaborate a little more,” she coaxed, banking down a wave of impatience.

  Now that his brother’s career had moved on, Duncan felt he was free to talk about it. “Brennan spent a lot of time undercover, part of that was as a homeless man, sleeping in doorways, hunting for food in Dumpsters behind restaurants. The stories he told would have sent shivers down your spine. They did for me,” he readily admitted.

  “I’ll take your word for it,” she said to Duncan. Her phone began to buzz, emitting a strange rhythmic noise. Rather than look surprised to be on the receiving end of a call so early in the morning, Noelle dug her cell out of her pocket and shut it off without bothering to glance at the small screen.

  “You’re not taking the call?” he asked.

  “That’s not a call, that’s my alarm,” she said. They’d spent more time out here than she’d thought. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to make a quick stop at the house.”

  “No problem,” he told her. “I was planning on bringing you back to your place so you could pick up your car. This way you won’t feel as if you have to wait for me if you want to check something out on your own.” Why did she have an alarm set for seven-thirty in the morning? he wondered. “Anything wrong?”

  “No,” she answered, then added, “Thanks for asking. I just like making contact with Melinda in the morning before she goes to school if I can.” They’d reached his vehicle, but she didn’t get in. “Gives her a sense of continuity.”

  Duncan read between the lines. “The kind you didn’t have.”

  The ship that protected that particular piece of her private life had already set sail, she thought, so there was no point in her denying his assumption.

  “Not until I went to live with Lucy,” she acknowledged. “Look, if you want to go directly to the precinct, I can call for a cab.”

  Cop or not, this was not the kind of place he felt she should be left by herself, waiting around for a cab to arrive.

  “I said I’d take you. Look, in case you missed this in Police Basics 101, I’m your partner. That means I have your back. In everything,” Duncan emphasized, then went on to offer, “I can have it stitched on a T-shirt if it’ll help you remember.”

  “You’re my partner, we have each other’s backs, yes, I got that,” she informed him, then hesitated for a moment before continuing. “It’s just that, well, after last night, I thought maybe you’d rather not have to spend that much time with me, at least for a while.”

  He stared at her over the hood of his car. “You didn’t happen to accidentally hit your head during all that energized activity last night, did you?” he asked.

  He actually looked serious when he put the question to her, so she answered, “No—”

  “Then where in the name of everything that makes sense did you get a dumb idea like that?” he demanded.

  She didn’t know whether to take offense at his tone, or rejoice at the meaning behind the question. She waffled somewhere in between. “I just didn’t want you to feel that I was being clingy.”

  Duncan got into his car and put his seat belt on, then waited for her to do the same before he put his question to her.

  “Are you?”

  Her eyes met his and she answered him with as much sincerity as she could. “No.”

  He put his key into the ignition and started up the engine. “Then we’re fine—as long as you stop saying stupid things.”

  Noelle pressed her lips together, looking straight ahead rather than at him. “I’ll work on it.”

  Duncan smiled to himself. His immediate future promised to be interesting, he couldn’t help thinking. “See that you do.”

  * * *

  “You’re just in time to kiss her goodbye,” Lucy announced when Noelle hurried into the house. There was an almost undetectable note of relief in the older woman’s voice. “We’re going to be late for school.”

  Melinda happily leaned into her mother as Noelle embraced her and kissed the top of her head.

  “I told Lucy we couldn’t go until you came to kiss me goodbye,” Melinda told her mother. Then, turning toward Duncan, she included him in this family ritual by saying, “Momma always kisses me goodbye before I go to school.”

  Duncan nodded at the information. “So your mom was telling me. A goodbye kiss is very important,” he agreed. “Guaranteed to start your day off right,” he added with a degree of solemnity that instantly registered with the little girl.

  Her eyes dancing, Melinda looked at her mother. “I like him, Mama. He’s funny.”

  Holding Melinda to her one extra second, Noelle nodded. “I said the same thing myself.”

  “What, that you like me?” Duncan asked, his face devoid of expression and giving nothing away.

  She was not about to admit anything, especially not in front of her grandmother and her daughter. “No, that you’re funny. Okay, Babycakes, go with Lucy and don’t forget to learn something today,” she called after the little girl.

  “I will, Momma,” Melinda promised with a happy squeal.

  Lucy was not quite so gleeful. “Are you getting anywhere on the case?” she asked as she ushered her great-granddaughter out.

  Noelle was not about to lie to the woman who’d raised her. Lucy deserved better than that. So she shook her head in response. “Maybe Henry’s autopsy will tell us something.”

  Ever optimistic in the face of adversity, Lucy held her crossed fingers high above her head as she left with Melinda.

  * * *

  Later that morning, Henry’s exhumation papers had been signed and filed with the proper authorities and the exhumation was being carried out even now. In addition, Noelle was aware that Duncan had gotten his uncle Sean to bump up the actual autopsy. The preliminary paper would be forthcoming some time today, although she knew that the tox screen would require more time.

  But some information was better than none, Noelle reasoned.

  Duncan picked up the thread that had been begun by his partner and Lucy. “Let’s see if the M.E. has something yet.”

  “I think we need to check in to the squad room first so the lieutenant knows that there’s been another body to add to the ever-expanding case,” Noelle suggested, referring to Alfie, the homeless hit-and-run victim that Duncan’s cousin had alerted him to.

  Duncan nodded. “Jamieson probably already knows, but it wouldn’t hurt to check in, just in case,” he agreed.

  * * *

  But the second they walked into the lieutenant’s small office, Jamieson informed them, “The chief of d’s wants to see you two.”

  It was beginning to feel as if they were playing some sort of game of virtual tag, Duncan thought. “About the case?” he asked.

  “That would be my guess,” Jamieson responded. “By the way, anything new?” he asked as the two began to vacate his office.

  “Just that there’s been another victim,” Duncan answered.

  “Homeless guy?” Jamieson asked.

  “Yes,” Noelle answered. The speed with which news traveled was unbelievable, not to mention overwhelming.

  “Already heard,” Jamieson was looking back at the files that were spread out of his desk like so many sprawling pages.

  “So much for catching Jamieson off guard,” Noelle commented. Stepping into the elevator, she looked at Duncan. “What do you think your uncle wants to talk to us about?” she asked.

  “The case,” Duncan answered.

  She suppressed a surge of annoyance. Of course it was going to be about the case. The chief of d’s didn’t socialize during work hours. “I
meant specifically,” she said.

  Duncan shoved his hands into his pockets and shook his head. “Haven’t a clue.”

  She found that somewhat hard to believe. “But he’s your uncle.”

  “Not while we’re on the job,” Duncan pointed out. “Then he’s the chief of detectives and our boss.” And while he might not have liked that, Duncan added silently, he could respect it.

  Noelle frowned as they got off the elevator again. “If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it’s not working.”

  Was she afraid of getting chewed out because they hadn’t made the kind of progress that TV procedural episodes are made of? “He’s got a reputation for being reasonable, that’s all I can say.”

  “Hope you’re right,” she told her partner just before they entered Brian’s outer office.

  The tall, lanky administrative assistant told them that the chief was waiting for them. Noelle crossed her fingers behind her back just before she walked into Brian’s office.

  Brian glanced up from his work and then rose from his desk when he saw them. Crossing to the door, he closed it behind Noelle.

  “Sit, please,” he instructed, then came back around his own desk and did the same. Moving his chair in closer, he steepled his fingers before him and looked at the two detectives in front of his desk. The pause seemed inordinately long before he said, “I was told you had a body exhumed.”

  “We had permission,” Noelle quickly volunteered.

  Brian dropped his hands to his desk and folded them. The look on his face was patient and kind.

  “Never crossed my mind that you didn’t,” he replied. “I was also told that you were the one who first made a connection between a number of senior citizens dying within six to eighteen months after they took out life insurance policies.”

  Noelle sat up a little straighter, feeling somewhat nervous as well as energized. “I thought it was kind of unusual,” she admitted, still not knowing whether she was going to be commended or read the riot act for overstepping her authority.