VALENTINES AND MURDER

by Patti Benning

  It was late when Lenny finally said goodbye, and Moira and David went straight to bed afterward. She didn’t have a twelve hour shift the next day, but she did have to wake up early again for a morning shift. Darrin needs a raise, she thought as she settled against her pillow. I don’t know how he manages to wake up so early to go into work without complaining. I own the place, and I’m already getting tired of it on day two.

  She had promised to meet up with her two best friends later that day, so even though she was tired from staying up so late the night before, she headed over to Denise’s house after work. There, she and her friends relaxed in the living room with a platter of cookies and a couple of plates of finger sandwiches, plus a bottle of the Redwood Grill’s house wine. It had been a while since she had had the opportunity to completely relax with her friends, so she pushed all thoughts of the murder out of her mind as they chatted, the TV playing quietly in the background.

  “Your house is so nice,” Martha groaned. She reached for a cookie, changed her mind, and grabbed a cucumber sandwich instead. “I’m jealous, I’ll admit it.”

  Denise laughed. “Don’t be. I only have this place because I won it in the divorce. It’s not exactly something to be proud of. And I’ve been to your house, Martha. It’s just as nice.”

  “I’m just jealous of your kitchen,” Moira said. “I’d love to have a restaurant quality kitchen in my house. Not that I cook much at home. We eat way too much takeout. I need to make a resolution to cook more.”

  “Trust me, mine doesn’t get used as much as you’d think,” Denise said. “Logan usually orders delivery for dinner, and by the time I get home from a day at the Grill, it’s all I can do to grab a slice of pizza before heading to bed. Of course, I made the cookies this morning, which was nice. I so rarely get a day off. I’m glad I can trust Julian to keep things under control while I’m not there.”

  “Where is Logan?” Moira asked. “I don’t see much of him anymore.”

  “He’s at work right now,” Denise said. “He got a job at the auto shop — you know, that place that Edna used to run before she passed away.”

  “That’s good, I’m glad he found somewhere to work. I feel bad that I didn’t offer him a place at the deli, but after what happened…” She trailed off. Logan was Denise’s nephew, and had been arrested the year before after killing someone in what he thought had been self-defense. The case had been complicated, and Logan had spent months in prison before getting out after an appeal.

  “I understand,” Denise said. “Don’t worry, Moira. I know it’s hard to look at him the same way you did before. I mean, he’s my nephew, and I still have a hard time thinking about… what happened.” Her friend took a deep breath. “I haven’t talked about it with anyone, you know? Not even with him. Both of us just kind of pretended that it didn’t happen when he first got back, and now, after so long, it would be weird to bring it up. I just want him to be happy and be able to move on, but whenever I look at him, I can’t help but think of that man he killed.”

  “That man was stalking me,” Moira said. “And he was dangerous. I know, though, it’s hard. I’m sorry for bringing it up. We should talk about something happier. It sounds like things are going well with you and Julian.”

  “They are.” Denise smiled. “I forgot what it was like to spend time with a man who actually enjoys being around me. I guess I just kind of forgot what normal was, after all of my bad experiences with my ex-husband. I’m glad I met Julian. How are things with Damien, Martha?”

  “I think we’re done seeing each other,” their other friend said casually. She reached for the table again, and grabbed a cookie this time. Moira and Denise exchanged a look.

  “Why?” Denise said.

  “Honestly? The magic is just gone. Maybe I’m not meant to get married.” She shrugged.

  “Are you okay?” Moira asked. “There were, well, more tears at your last breakup.”

  “The thing is, it wasn’t even a breakup. Not with tears and screaming and all of that. We just got to seeing each other a lot less, and eventually I told him I wanted to put things on hold for a while, and he said okay, and that was it. Maybe I’m finally getting old enough that drama won’t be a part of dating anymore. You know, I actually ran into someone at the grocery store the other day that I liked a lot.” She grinned. “No ring, so I don’t think he’s married. He’s cute, even though he wears an eye patch.”

  The deli owner sat up straighter. “An eye patch? Are you talking about Wyatt?”

  “How do you know him?” Martha asked.

  “He bought the building next to the deli. He’s the one opening the doggy daycare.”

  “Tell me everything,” Martha said, shifting on the couch so she was facing her friend. “And I mean everything.”

  Laughing, Moira began to relate her visit to Perfect Paws to her friend. They talked about Wyatt until Denise cleared her throat and turned up the volume on the television.

  “Guys,” she said. “Check this out.”

  “I’m coming to you live from a scene of shocking violence,” the news reporter said, standing in front of a row of police cars. Behind her, Moira could see a vehicle that had run headfirst into a tree. “This is the second mystery shooting in two days. The perpetrator has not been caught, and once again, the victim has been declared dead at the scene. This time, however, we have a witness — a local private investigator who was following the victim when the incident occurred.”

  Moira tensed, expecting to see David on the television, but instead the person that the camera panned over to was Lenny. The reporter asked him, “Could you tell us what you saw?”

  “Um, a dark car — maybe black or dark blue — came around the corner.” He licked his lips nervously, and seemed unable to decide whether to look at the camera or the reporter while he was speaking. Instead, he looked back and forth between the two. “It was coming from the other direction, and drove right past the… the victim. I saw someone stick a gun out the window and I heard two loud bangs. Then the victim’s car swerved into the guard rail, and I stopped and called the police.” There was a long pause. “That’s it,” he added.

  The camera refocused on the reporter. “So, there we have it. Keep your eyes peeled for someone with a gun in a dark blue or black car. If you see anything suspicious, please call the number at the bottom of the screen. Do not — and I repeat — do not approach this person. They are armed and should be considered very dangerous.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  * * *

  “I want you to stop working on this case,” Moira said.

  It was evening, and David had just gotten home after another long day of speaking to the police. He was alone this time, which was good because the conversation that she wanted to have with him was one that they couldn’t have in front of Lenny.

  “What case?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he reached for a coat hanger.

  “The one that involves the people who keep getting shot.”

  “They’re different cases, Moira.” He hung his coat up and shut the closet door, shaking his head as he turned back toward her. “Two completely different cases.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, blinking. She had been certain that this most recent murder must have had something to do with Rick Greene’s death.

  “This last person that died, Michael Bronn, he was part of a completely different case than the one we had taken on for Rick. Michael’s wife hired us to tail him because she thought he was having an affair. As far as I know, the two men didn’t know each other at all.”

  “But… the dark colored car. There has to be a connection.”

  “Let’s sit down and talk about this,” he said. “It’s been a long day. I need some coffee.”

  She followed him into the kitchen where she sat at the table while he poured himself a cup of coffee. He joined her after a moment. “I agree that there must be some sort of connection, but I can assure you that the connection has nothing to do with me
. I know you’re worried, but I’m trying to train Lenny. I can’t just stop taking cases until the shooter is caught.”

  “But David, what if they target you next? This person has a gun. He isn’t playing around. If he drives up behind you and — well, look at what happened today.”

  “I know.” He covered her hand with his. “Moira, I’ll be careful. But I honestly think the fact that both of these people had ties to one of my cases is a coincidence. I don’t want you to worry. I wasn’t even there either time. Lenny was the one that found them.”

  Moira inhaled sharply. Lenny. David was right; both murders had occurred when Lenny had been following the victims.

  “What color car does he drive?” she asked.

  “Lenny? It’s black.”

  She stared at him. “David, the first victim said he was being followed by a someone driving a dark car.”

  David shook his head. “Moira, Lenny witnessed the second murder, remember? I know what you’re thinking, but it isn’t him. I drive a black car too. A lot of people do.”

  “Does he have a gun?”

  Her husband shifted, not meeting her gaze.

  “Does he?”

  He sighed. “He does. And yes, he has a license to carry it concealed. I suggested that he keep it on him while working cases, just in case.”

  Moira stood up, her chair scraping across the tiles. She began to pace back and forth in the kitchen. “So, he has a black car and carries a gun, and he was at the scene of both murders, and you don’t think that’s even a little bit suspicious?”

  David sighed. “I can see why it would look that way. Look, he didn’t even get to Rick’s house until after the police had been called. The police themselves confirmed that. And he was tailing Michael when he was shot. If he wanted to lie about that, he would have said that the shooter’s car came from behind them. The police will be able to trace the trajectory of the bullets, and he knows that. If he shot Michael while he was following him, the bullets would have a different trajectory than they would if he had been shot from the side or front.”

  “So, he was lying about following the guy,” she said. “Are there any witnesses that saw him tailing Michael?”

  David frowned. “No. Not that I know of.”

  She fell silent, but stared at him. She knew that he had to be making the same connections that she was. Her husband was the one that made a living out of solving mysteries, after all.

  “I just… I don’t think he’s the type,” he said after a minute. “His background check was clean. His references check out. He’s not in debt, he doesn’t have any sort of history that might indicate a violent past. Why would he want to kill these people? He didn’t even choose these cases. I gave them to him. I can imagine what it looks like, if you’re looking at it from the outside. But without a motive, there’s no case. If he wasn’t involved at all and I was the one who had been at the scene both times, would you think it was me?”

  “No. Of course not. But I know you so much better than you know him. Just…” She sighed. “Be careful okay? Be careful around him. I love you, and if something happened to you, I don’t know how I could live with it.”

  “Hey,” he said. He stood up and pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay. I love you too, and I’ll be careful. I promise. What are you doing tomorrow morning?”

  “Working.” She made a face, even though she knew he couldn’t see it. Rising before the sun was not her strong suit. “But I’m free in the afternoon. Why?”

  “Let’s take the dogs and go on a nice walk somewhere. It’s supposed to be a bit warmer, and I think we could both use the chance to get outside. I already told Lenny to take the day off, and Karissa will be at the brewery, so it will just be the two of us and the dogs, with no worries.”

  “Okay,” she said. “That sounds like a good plan. I’ll stop home after work and we can drive out to the trails together.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  * * *

  David had been right; it was a warm day, with temperatures in the forties — the perfect sort of day to hit the trails after being cooped up from months of bitterly cold temperatures. Maple Creek was in northern Michigan, and was surrounded by forests on all sides. That day, she and David simply drove until they found a small roadside park with trail access. They pulled in and parked alongside two other vehicles; a white minivan, and a dark green sedan with a white paw print decal on the rear window that she thought looked familiar. Moira opened the rear hatch and grabbed the dogs’ leashes as they jumped out, both of them wriggling with excitement.

  “Do you want Maverick or Keeva?” she asked.

  “You choose,” he said.

  She handed him Maverick’s leash and set off down the trail, pausing only to hit the button on her keychain to lock her SUV. Just because Maple Creek was a small town didn’t mean that there wasn’t a criminal element around — a fact which had been highlighted by the recent shootings. Taking a deep breath, she pushed down the twinge of unease she felt as she thought about the two deaths. She had made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t focus on that, not today. The more she thought about it, the more she worried about her husband, and worrying wouldn’t do either of them any good.

  “Which way?” she asked when they reached the first fork.

  “It looks like Maverick’s choosing for us,” David said, laughing as the German shepherd pulled him down the trail. Moira grinned and followed with Keeva. It felt wonderful to be doing something active, and she was glad that David had had the idea.

  Once they had gotten about ten minutes into their hike, David reached down and unclipped Maverick’s leash. The German shepherd was used to romping through the five acres of woods that she and David owned, and was pretty good about sticking around.

  “Just keep an eye out for other hikers,” she warned her husband. “Remember, there were two other vehicles parked in the lot. I don’t want him to bother anyone.”

  “He’ll be fine,” David said, reaching down to ruffle the dog’s ears. “Go on, boy. Have fun.”

  Maverick took off, dashing a few yards ahead before stopping to snuffle at a half-melted pile of snow. Keeva tugged at her leash and whined. Moira reached down to pat the dog. The Irish wolfhound wasn’t as reliable off leash, and even though she felt bad for her, she didn’t want to chance the dog running away.

  “Sorry, sweetie,” she said. “Maybe one day.”

  “So,” David said as they started walking again. “Our trip. Where do you want to go?”

  Moira paused. She hadn’t thought about their planned Valentine’s Day trip at all. With everything else that had happened, it had slipped her mind. She didn’t want to let David know, though; he had seemed excited for it. She was too, but worry for her husband had made everything else seem unimportant.

  “Let’s go to Chicago,” she said, going with the first thing that came to mind. She relaxed into her idea as she realized it was a good one. “We can go to the aquarium, see some museums, go to some nice restaurants, and stay in whatever hotel has the best room service.”

  He grinned. “If we can have five-star meals delivered to our door, I think we might never leave the room. I think it sounds like a good idea, though. I haven’t been to Chicago in years.”

  “Me either,” she said. “It’s close enough that we can drive down in a day, so we won’t have to set aside too much time for travel or try to schedule a flight and rent a car on such short notice. Plus, we can visit Candice on our way back home.”

  “Let’s look at hotel reservations when we get home,” he said. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Me too.” She reached over with her free hand and took his. She really was looking forward to their weekend away together. In just a week and a half, she would be lounging in a luxurious suite with her husband by her side and not a single care in the world.

  Except the murders. Her face fell. What if the culprit wasn’t caught by then? What if David left his private investigating business in Len
ny’s hands while they were gone, and he committed another crime? Somehow, she didn’t think that the killer would stop at two murders. Someone who killed so easily and so quickly must have had practice. The only question was, who would be next on his list?

  Maverick barked, jolting her out of her thoughts. She called the dog back automatically. When he ignored her, she tried again, this time with a sharper tone.

  “Maverick, come here.”

  The German shepherd gave a low grumble and trotted back to her. She grabbed his collar while David clipped the leash on. She could hear the jingling now; someone else was approaching along the trail, and it sounded like they had a dog with them.