Nicole ran a hand down her face, the action accenting her puffy cheeks and darkly lined eyes.
Sara put her hand on Nicole’s head and kissed the side of her forehead. “I’m sorry. That was a stupid question.”
Nicole dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “You just care about me.”
“I always have.” That statement held absolute truth. Even though the years had separated them and taken them down different paths, Sara only wanted good things for Nicole.
“If you or Sean would like a coffee, please, go ahead and help yourselves.”
“Thank you.” Sara hoped Sean would recognize the plea in her eyes. She was pleased when he headed to the machine and started a coffee.
Sara took a seat beside her friend, reaching for her hand as she did so.
“Have you found out anything?” Nicole asked.
Sara studied her friend’s eyes. It was too early to voice their suspicions about Jerrod being involved in a criminal offense. Without proof they could easily be inflicting unnecessary pain. The matter of the yellow bag, however, did need to be discussed.
“When you were at the mall, you weren’t with Jerrod all the time were you.” Sara latched eyes with Nicole. The inquiry not so much a question but a statement.
Nicole shook her head. “He said he wanted to do some shopping on his own.”
“He was probably buying you a gift.” Sara stuck with another possible fact while continuing to omit her suspicions.
“Yes, I think so. It worked for me too. After all, part of the Christmas magic is the surprise and mystery…or maybe I’m wrong.” Nicole gave a subdued smile.
“You are very right about that.”
Sean placed a mug in front of Sara, and as the aroma hit her nose, she inhaled appreciatively before taking a long draw. The benefit to the K-cup method was the temperature was perfect for drinking from the end of brew.
“You’re not having one?” Nicole asked Sean, who had taken a seat across from them.
“I already had mine today.” He smiled.
Nicole turned to Sara. “One coffee? He has one a day? I’d never make it.”
“Me neither.” Sara laughed. The expression died quickly though, as Nicole’s sad energy soaked the air.
There was a pause, where silence hung for a few seconds. Sara and Sean made eye contact. He was willing to proceed if she felt it would be too much for her. She shook her head, just enough to let him know that she had this under control.
“Do you know where he might have bought something that went into a small yellow bag?”
Nicole’s brows pressed down and she played with the handle on the mug, running her manicured nails down and around it—from top to bottom, bottom to top. “You think a yellow bag had to do with his death?”
“We don’t know yet, but we have an eyewitness who said he had one when he was alive,” Sean said.
“Then the cops must have it. They collected everything, including his purchases.”
The doorbell rang. They strained to listen for clues as to who their visitor was.
While Sara watched Nicole put effort into hearing, she wondered how she was going to tell Nicole she never remembered seeing a yellow bag around Jerrod. Nicole would likely think her mad—after all, how could she knew that for certain. Besides Sean, most weren’t as accepting of her clear recollection.
Sara took a second to listen in, and then Mrs. Townsend came toward them, calling for Nicole. But the woman wasn’t alone. Officers Ramsey and Carr trailed behind with a bunch of packages—Jerrod’s purchases.
Sara had been saved by the bell. Nicole’s mind would easily be scattered all over the place. She wouldn’t think to have Sara pick up exactly where she left off. Sara wouldn’t have to explain how she just knew that a yellow bag was missing.
“Hello, Sara. Sean.” Officer Carr greeted them.
“Please, put all of this—here.” Mrs. Townsend let out a puff of air, as if the officers were an intrusion, and gestured for them to follow her to the dining room.
As the officers walked past, Sara didn’t see any yellow bag among the packages. It was possible that it was placed inside another bag, but Sara didn’t think it was.
About a minute later, with all the packages in the other room, Officer Ramsey and Carr came back into the kitchen.
Sara read their energy. They had more to deliver than a man’s belongings. Nicole must have sensed it too.
Nicole stood up and her legs buckled.
Sean rushed to keep her upright and guided to her the nearest chair.
“You are closing his case, aren’t you?” Nicole’s voice quaked as she spoke. Her one hand covered her mouth.
“Unfortunately, there hasn’t been sufficient evidence to conclude your husband’s death as a murder, Mrs. Hill,” Officer Carr said.
“So what you’re saying is you give up?” Mrs. Townsend crossed her arms, her glare intense enough to spark a fire.
“No. Please, ma’am, that’s not the way it is at all.”
“I assume there will be an autopsy conducted. He must have been drugged or something. He wouldn’t just jump.”
Sean got up and headed toward Mrs. Townsend, but stopped a couple of feet away when her glower leveled on him.
Carr straightened and latched his thumbs on the waist of his pants. “An autopsy showed no evidence of foul play, no syringe holes or anything.”
“Toxicology results take longer to come back,” Sean interjected.
Ramsey nodded with no elaboration, which meant the case was closed without it.
Sara knew the autopsy Officer Carr had referenced was probably just a preliminary look-over. The sad part was, she understood where the department was coming from. For all intents and purposes, they had a man fall to his death. He wasn’t described by anyone as acting like he was intoxicated or drugged. No one witnessed a struggle, and, sadly, budget constraints were an issue for PD. It wasn’t, however, for Sean and Sara.
She matched eyes with Sean. Although certain he wouldn’t be able to read all of her thoughts, minimum, he would pick up on her need to discuss this later.
“What about his—” Nicole hiccupped a sob and composed herself. “What about his wallet and clothing? His wedding band?”
Carr turned to Ramsey. Ramsey turned to Carr. Then Ramsey spoke, his eyes drifting to Mrs. Townsend as he did so. “You can pick up those items down at the station. We broke our regular protocol bringing this here.”
“I have to go down there?” A glare flashed in Nicole’s eyes, slicing through the resident grief.
“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Mrs. Townsend came to her daughter and wrapped her arms around her. Nicole melted into the embrace, the heaving sobs creating fractures through Sara’s heart.
The worst part of the job hadn’t been the crime scenes—even the grisly ones—the worst part was telling people that their loved ones were gone, and being powerless to do anything to bring them back.
The Tally
AFTER THEY CALMED NICOLE AND got her off to bed, Mrs. Townsend left them to do whatever they felt they needed to.
Sean and Sara headed straight to the Townsends’ dining room. It appeared like a retail hurricane had torn through, leaving gifts in its wake—sweaters, CDs, crystal glasses, and hand-sized electronics.
They spent a half hour rifling through all the packages that had been found at the scene, but there was no yellow bag.
Sara dropped onto a dining room chair.
Sean placed an arm around her shoulders and hunched beside her. “I’m sorry, darling, but there isn’t a yellow bag. Maybe the man imagined it.”
“No, he saw it. There was a reflection in his eyes that told me he held no doubt about it. There was a yellow bag.”
“All right, so if we run on that assumption—sorry, darling—but until we see it for ourselves.”
“I understand.” She waved a hand. “Continue.”
“I just had a thought.” He moved around in front of her. “In a
ll of this, we never found any receipts.”
Sara beheld the floor and the mess they had made—stuff strewn everywhere. “You’re right. Not one.”
“I think that Jerrod must have kept the receipts on him.”
“If we get ahold of those, then maybe we’ll have a better idea where the yellow bag came from.”
Sean shrugged. “At the very least it would narrow down the number of stores. From the sounds of it, his wallet and clothing are still downtown. When I mentioned a toxicology, did you notice Officer Ramsey’s reaction?” Sean asked.
“You mean the fact there wasn’t one and he knew it? There’s no way samples were taken for that. You and I know it. There are budget constraints. I don’t even think a full autopsy was conducted.”
“I know what you’re thinking.”
She took his hands in hers. “I think we should pay for this to take place.”
“If we’re not already too late.”
“There is one thing that just hit me. People were screaming when Jerrod went over, but I don’t remember anyone commenting on him screaming on the way down.” She was certain Sean’s paleness matched her own.
He didn’t freeze in place for long. He pulled out his cell and dialed. “Jimmy, we need your help, right now.”
Among The Dead
JIMMY WASN’T CERTAIN HOW HE was going to go about taking care of this. While it wasn’t unusual for the family to foot the bill for an autopsy on a loved one, ordering a toxicology panel was another thing. He wasn’t even curious to see the monetary toll involved, even though he knew the McKinleys had no worries in that regard.
The medical examiner, Albert Needham, was a gruff, older man who was steps away from retirement. The business of working with the dead never impacted him on a personal level—at least not to any degree that gave public testimony.
His hair was fully silver with tufts at the side, resembling a ruffled bird. His beak-like nose added to that illusion.
Jimmy peeked through the window in the morgue door and nothing was going on at the moment. He knew better than to interrupt the man.
Still, he wasn’t taking chances and that’s why Jimmy came armed with a brown bag in his right hand. It contained a sandwich—swiss on rye with alfalfa sprouts. It was Needham’s favorite. Jimmy almost believed the world might stop spinning if bribery ever ceased to work.
He found Needham in the back corner, hunched toward his monitor. The thick glasses perched on his nose obviously were not enough to make the screen readable.
“Sergeant.” Needham greeted him without breaking from his work. He possessed an uncanny ability to sense presence and identity. Jimmy refused to attribute that gift to his profession.
“I thought you might be hungry.”
Needham snatched the bag. “Swiss on rye?”
“Yep.”
“With mustard and alfalfa sprouts?”
“You got it.”
Needham unrumpled the bag and sniffed inside before reaching in for the sandwich wrapped in wax paper. “What do you need, Jimmy?”
“I’m here about Jerrod Hill.”
“Hasn’t the case already been ruled?”
“It has.” This was the part of the job Jimmy disliked—when conclusions were rushed for a better closure rate. Even in the position of sergeant, he was powerless to stop the powers that be, the powers that required progression to the next case as quickly as possible.
“Well then. Not sure what I can do for you.” Needham took a bite that saw a large corner of the sandwich disappear. He chewed and swallowed as his eyes traveled from Jimmy’s feet up to his face. “That all you came for?”
The examiner’s reaction was enough to convince Jimmy that things were just as the McKinleys had suspected. A full autopsy hadn’t even been conducted when the ruling was made, just a preliminary.
Jimmy latched his hands behind his back and stayed standing, despite the appeal of the empty chair beside the medical examiner. “About him, a benefactor has stepped forth and will be paying for the procedure, full autopsy and toxicology screening.”
Needham took another large bite of the sandwich and spoke with a mouthful. “Including tox?”
“Yes.”
An audible swallow had a large lump going down. “They must really be convinced the man was murdered.”
“I’d also like to know what was taken from his body.”
“I assume you know exactly what you’re after, Sergeant? Please, I have a busy day. The dead wait for no man.” He smirked at his attempt at humor and took another mouthful of sandwich.
“I want to know if he had any receipts on him, in his pocket, in his wallet.”
“He did.”
“I need to see them.”
Needham turned back to the computer. He brought up a file that showed images of the different articles pulled from Jerrod Hill. “I will send this information to you now. As for the other, I will let you know.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Needham brushed him away with a wave of his hand and kept his attention on the screen.
Jimmy noticed that he didn’t even say thank you for the sandwich, not that he really expected one.
Narrowing It Down
THEY WERE BOTH IN THE main sitting room of their house when Sean’s phone chimed, notifying him of a new email. Before he could check it out, it rang. He caught the caller ID and answered. “Hey, Jimmy, you’re on speaker. Sara’s here too.”
“Hello, Sara.”
“Hey, were you able to find anything for us?”
“I’ve taken care of everything. The autopsy and toxicology will be started today. As you know, the tox results will—”
“Take about a week. It hasn’t been that long. I still remember.” Sean smiled. The delays inherent with the job weren’t something that he missed. In fact, the best parts he took with him. Being able to find true closure for a case was something that spoke to his soul.
“I was also able to get what else you asked for, and I just sent you over a list.”
“I believe I got it. Thanks, Jimmy.”
“Don’t mention it. Just keep me informed if you find something, would you?”
“Of course. Now remember—”
Sean was smiling. “No one dies today.”
“That’s right.” Jimmy clicked off without saying good-bye.
“That man really was the best part of the job.” Sara settled back into the couch and crossed her arms. “I’m happy that he’s still a part of our life.”
“That makes two of us, darling.” Sean kissed her forehead before going back to his phone and accessing the email. “There were eleven receipts in Jerrod Hill’s wallet.”
She smiled. “It could be worse. There could be more.”
“Always optimistic.” He felt warmth surge through him. He was truly blessed to have Sara by his side.
She got to her feet. “Darling, it seems to me it’s time to go shopping.”
Three receipts tied back to chain department stores, which they were able to cross off the list right away, having pre-existing knowledge of what their bags were like. That left them with eight more.
The stores were spread throughout the mall, and even Sara had to admit the shopping venture would have been an exhausting one. Right now though, it wasn’t the span the stores covered, it was the fact they were running out of time before closing.
The good news was, for most of the stores, people were usually coming out and it made it easy to mark them off.
Sara stopped outside of a poster store. “Let’s think this through a little more. Can I see the list again?”
“Of course.” Sean brought up the emailed list and handed his phone to Sara.
“So, we’ve crossed these off the list,” she spoke out loud as she mentally marked off another four. “This leaves us with four stores. The mall will be closing in a half an hour. We have to think about who would have the need for a small bag.” She glimpsed a nearby window display
. “Dee-Dee’s Diamonds. Sean, they would—”
Sean had his hands in his pockets and was swaying his upper torso. He avoided eye contact. The posture lent itself to her imagining he was about to whistle and made her think of the phrase the cat that ate the canary…
“You know it’s not them.” She smiled and waited for his gaze to reach her, which it did, within a second of calling him out.
“Maybe.” He dragged out the word, playfully.
Her eye shot to her wrist, which was adorned with a diamond bracelet. It had been a gift from him over in Europe. She thought of the gems in her ears—another gift overseas. She truly was getting spoiled, and a good portion of her didn’t mind at all. In fact, she soaked it in.
“Can I see what it is, darling?” she asked, certain to flutter her lashes.
“Yes. Christmas morning.”
“Christmas morning? It’s still a month away.”
“Come on, darling, I don’t make the rules.” He slipped his arms around her waist. She held up his phone between them. He leaned in for a kiss. She pulled back.
“Oh no, we have a murder to solve first.” She smirked. “Darling, time is running out, and you know, I don’t make the rules.”
He released her, but his eyes were full of playful mischievousness.
“This leaves three stores including—”
“Sara?”
“We should have started here. Mr. Ward described the bag as about twelve inches square. There’s a receipt from Groovin’ Beat.”
“Sounds like a music store.”
“That it does, and a small bag like that would be ideal for them.”
“People actually still buy CDs?”
Sara shook her head and pulled him in the direction of the store.
Movin’ To The Beat
“SEEMS WE’VE GOT THE RIGHT place.” Sean pointed at the yellow bag hanging from a woman’s arm as she came out of Groovin’ Beat.
Shopping is Murder (McKinley Mysteries Book 6) Page 5
